The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1929-08-30

me, another. I wipe the goggles OF
my mask clear of the moist breath
1t is Kat, Kropp and someone else,
Ali four of us lie there in heavy
watchful suspense and breathe as
lightly as possible.
These first minutes with the mask
decide between life and death: is Il
tightly woven? I remember the aW-
full sights in the hospital; the gas
patients who in day-long suffocatior
cough their burnt lungs up In
clots.
Cautiously, the mouth applied tc
the valve, I breathe. The gas still
creeps over the ground and sinks
into all hollows. Like a big, soft
jellyfsh it floats into our shell-hole
and Tolls there obScenely.
I nudge Kat. 1t is better to crawl
out and lie on top than to stay here
where the gas collects most. But we
don't get as far as that; a second
bombardment begins. 1t is nc
longer as though the shells roared;
it is the earth itself raging.
With a crash something black
bears down on us. 1t lands close
beside us; coffin thrown up.
I see Kat move and I crawl across
The coffin has hit the fourth man
in our hole on his outstretched
arm. He tries to tear off his gas
mask with the other hand. Kropp
seizes- him just in time, twists the
hand sharply behind his back and
holds it fast.
Kat and I proceed to free the
wounded arm. The coffin lid is loose
and bursts open, we toss the corpse
out, it slides down to the bottom of
the shell-hole, then we try to loosen
the under part.
Fortunately the man swoons and
Kropp is able to help us. We no
longer have to be careful, but work
away till the coffin gives with a
sigh for the spade that we have
dug in under it.
1t has grown lighter. Kat takes a
piece of the lid, places it under the
shattered arm, and we wrap all our
bandageS round it. For the mo-
ment we can do no more.
Inside the gas mask my head
boomS and roars-it is nigh BURST
ing. My lungs are tight, they breathe
always the same hot, used-up air,
the veins on my temple are swollen,
I feel 7 am suffocating.
A gray light filters through to us.
I climb out over the edge of the
shell hole In the dirty twilight lies
leg torn clean off, the boot is
quite whole. I take that all in at
a glance.
Now some one stands up a few
yard distant. I polish the windows,
IN my excitement they are imme-
diately dimmed again. peer
through them, the man no longer
wears his mask.
I wait some Seconds--he has not
collapsed-he looks around and
makes a few paces-rattling in my
throat I tear my mask off, too, and
fall down, the air streams into me
like cold water, my eyes are burst
ing, the wave sweeps over me and
eXtinguisheS me.
The Smelling has ceased. I drag
myself to the crater and tell the
others. They take off their masks.
We lift up the wounded man, one
taking his Splintered arm. And so
We stumble off hastily.
The graveyard is a mass of wreck
age. Collins and corpses lie strewn
about. They have been killed once
again; but each of them that was
flung up saved one of us.
The hedge is destroyed, the rails
of the light railway are torn up and
rise stiffly in the air in great arches.
Some one lies in front of us. We
stop; Kropp goes on alone with the
wounded man.
The man on the ground is re-
cruit. His hip is covered with blood;
he is so exhausted that I feel for
my water bottle, where I have rum
and tea. Kat restraints my hand
and stoops over him.
where's it got you, comrade?"
His eyes move. He is too weak
to answer.
We cut off his trousers carefully.