Shoshone journal. [volume] (Shoshone, Idaho) 1884-1931, 1919-01-24
yet cawn't understand 'em, but Will

Curly Wallace, placing his hand o
the speakers knee, softly said:
"Righto, mate, we know you ca
see far beyond us, but tell US of 'Aun
ed Jerry and the pome e wrote tn
. day before e clicked it at the lon
tree"
Jerry's brother nodded in a compre
bending way, and reaching into tn
pocket of his tunic drew out crease,
and muddy piece of paper, which h
opened out upon his knee, and then. il
an unnatural, singsong voice, which
sent shivers through us, recited tn
following poem:
Between the lines. in No Man'r Land,
With foliage gone. and trL.6 that
A lonely sentry takes his stand.
Silently watching from morn to morn
On starlit nights, when moon is bright.
And spreads its rays of ghostIik'
| beams
Against the sky, that tree of blight
A CHASTITY hangman's gibbet seems.
When night is black. and winds faint
sigh
Through its shelltorn branches means
A call to men, ITO die, to diel"
They answer it with groans and groans
But obey the call, for more and more. 4"
And Death sits by and grins and grins.
And watches the fast-growing score,
The harvest of his sentry's whins.
There they lie huddled, friend and foe,
CHASTITY heaps, English, Hun and
French
And still those piles forever grow,
They are fed by the Men of the
Trench"
No tombstone theirs: no carven rocks,
Just the Lone Tree with its grim call,
Which forever mocks and mocks.
When Jerry's brother had finished,
dead silence ensued. / nervously
lighted a flag, and out of the corner
of my eye noticed that Sailor Bill was
uneasily squirming on the firestep.
Letting out sigh, which seemed to
whistle between his teeth, our "gLcst"
carried on:
Jerry weren't much at cheerful
writing. because e lad a calling.
Even back 'ome in Blighty, e weren't
much for lights nor fun. 'E took af-
ter our mother. The neighbors called
FER 'aunted, too, but she weren't. She
could see things, like Jerry.
'"This ERE lone tree sentinel Jerry
writes about was an old tree in No
Mans land, about 'undred yards from
our front-line trench. 1t was pretty |
we'll knocked about by bullets and |
shell fragments. 1t made q pretty good |
guide post, stickin' sort o. lonely like !
up gainst the skyline at night. Re |
patrols and bombing par
ties used it to show 'em the wye
back to their trenches, because,
y know, out there in the blackness
it's easy to lose your wye, unless
you ave spirits. -a.gutdin' you.
lots of times English and German
patrols would meet near the lone
rec, and many a 'and-to-fand fight
would tyke place around its roots.
AT that part. o. the line. it were
pretty 'ot, What with the rifle and ma
hine-gun' firing The only time there
gould be'a aulFin. the-.firfng was When /:
tlto- PelLSot WAS .OlA Ia
ront, and then, as you know, you {
olifdhit fire for fear of a lifting your !
wn blokes. All around the lone tree
'ere scattered many bodies, mostly )
'Dglish and German. Some of 'em
ia been a-lyin' there for weeks, and.1
hen the wi1d- were. a::Dlowin' from the n
erman lines towards us it were sort b
unpleasant in our front line. ;,
''Every time the captain would ,.all b
IT soldiers for a accommodating pa c
oil, 'Aunted Jerry, as you call lin, 4
ways put is bloomin' nyme on the I
st. 1t got so that after a while 'e 4
ever asked if e wanted to go; the
ptain would just naturally put lis -
me down as agoin'. 81
I'm our dugout, Jerry would tell me al
" many dead were around the tree. p'
W e could count 'em in the dark, 1 u
MT know, but e could see could IN
G. 70
Sometimes in the daytime e would "a
, up periscope ON is own, and sit ~
the irestep for hours alookin' out -