Ellsworth American. [volume] (Ellsworth, Me.) 1855-current, 1921-08-10
SHE did HER Bit
Soldiers Tribute to Faithful
Dumb Buddy.
Will Appeal to Others Besides Those
Who in France Made Their
Deeds Immortal.

When / first saw Joan in 1915,
writes Major F. N. Lund In the Lon
don Times Magazine, she was already
an old soldier, standing in a muddy,
bleak field near the ruined village of
Elverdinghe. She was only typical
English shire cart horse that had
come through the retreat" with sew
eral other horses in our string.
l remember seeing little of her dur
ing those first strange weeks In our
forward billet; but when we moved
column of steaming horses Joan and
her team mate. Darby. That summer
we lost horses. We moved slowly
forward and sometimes backward, day
and night in action, with the horses
never far away in open fields.
With the autumn came rain, mud
and cracked heels, and In the village
Of Souastre Darby had to be led away
with open gashes on both hind feet.
Joan worked badly that day and
ate scarcely anything. The next day
she stayed in and fed out Of my hand.
The following day she seemed we'll
again; but Darby's place had been
hard to fill. Through that winter
and a summer of defensive warfare
rations were seldom late, though they
were often delivered under fire. Joan
maintained her old gait, apparently
caring little about the going or wheth-
er she drew more than her share Of
the load.
The winter OF 1918 found us at
Potijze, and the horses in ruin at
Ypres. There was lot Of hard work,
but no action. One day Joan's mate
and her driver were struck down by
her side at feeding time, and Joan
was the only one left OF our old
horses.
Then the tide turned, and we began
to advance-Arras to Cambria in
week. When we pulled out Of Cam
brai the Huns were in full retreat !;
and we were told to keep up with
the advance" At dusk, footsore, tired
and hungry, we pulled our few re-
naming carts into small field near
the ruined chateau Of Escaudoeuvres
We unlocked tied our famished
horses. unrolled our blankets and fell
into ditches-but for once the rations
were not up.
And there was no sleep that night.
A battery of SOS had pulled into the
chateau drive in front, an airplane
had seen their flashes and had spotted
the transport on the road. All night
long we were carrying and tying up
wounded. At last daylight came, but
no rntions; where were they-and
Joan?
Finally the Smelling stopped, and
out of the mass of transport on the
road came battered wagon, piled
high with food, drawn by a solitary
horse bleeding from the hind leg and
nostrils-merely staggering along
with the driver wearing red band
where his helmet should have been
A great cry went up from the weary
hungry men.
But at once saw the wagon stop
inside the field and great horse
sway for an instant sink to her knees
topple over and lie still.
{"
They say that in some devastated
parts of France women at night have
seen ghosts of their loved ones rise
and walk with them. If this is so.
then some of my lost men may march
with me once more. And in a peaceful
meadow that | know of, near a re-
built chateau, l may one night hear
the creaking of wagon and the
sound of wheels, and ! shall see
horse that l once knew, driven where
there should be two; and she shall be
covered with foam and bleeding at the
nostrls and lame. And | shall hear
well-known voice shout, "Rations
up" and ghosts Of weary fighting
men shall echo, THANK God !"-and
as I stumble away I shall murmur,
land JOAN"