many corners you could get around better in a canoo. They got
sidewalks in most of the trenches they call duck boards. A duck board
is a lot of little slats nailed across a couple of wooden rails. The
way there laid it looks as tho somebody had walked along the top of
the trench an dropped the seckshuns in. Some is upside down, some lap
over each other, some is leanin agenst the sides of the trench an in
the deep places some isnt there at all. Joe Mink says it keeps a fello
on his toes.
Every four or five feet they leave out half a dozen slats. If you dont
break your neck in one of these places they get the corners banked the
wrong way so youll slide off an get drownd. If they miss you on the
straitaway theyll get you on the turns.
The Lootenant sleeps with a couple of doboy oficers in a sekshun of
engine boiler set in the side of the trench. I sleep down in a place
that looks like an old mine. About the only way you could get a shell
into the thing would be to lower it down with a rope. Its the best
billet Ive struck up here tho. Theres no windos for fresh air feends
to be monkeyin with all the time, an of course there aint no light to
shine in your face when your tryin to sleep. The only trouble is
theres seven fellos sleepin there an only five bunks so we got to take
turns sleepin. The floor is to muddy.
That is to say, Mable, seven fellos an two hundred rats. I never used
to take much stock in those rat stories but I certinly take off my hat
to them now. Thats about all you can take off unless you want to get
eaten. These fellos will eat anything from the hobnails out of your
shoes to a bag of Bull. They make a goat look like a dispeptik. You
dont notice them while the candles are lit an your movin around. As
soon as you blow out the light an lie still, tho, you can hear them
comin out all over to have dinner off your equipment.
They have what they call a runners bench outside the tin house where
the Lootenant sleeps. Joe an I is supposed to take turns sittin there.
Its something like the bell hops bench in a hotel only this is an
active front. You wont get that for a minit, Mable. All you can here
when your sittin out there a fello inside saying "Hello. Pancake. Get
off the wire Peggy. I want Pancake. Pancake busy? Give me Pauline. Is
that you Purgatory? This is Pineapple speakin."
After Id lissened to that for about half an hour I felt like the gate
gard of a bug house. I got hold of the Lootenant in a friendly way an
told him Id go halves on my bunk with him cause I didnt think it was
safe to sleep with that fello. He might think he was a crum some night
an try to choke somebody. The Lootenant said that was just a way they
had of telefonin up here. He said you never could tell when a German
might be lyin up on the roof or under a bunk lissenin to you. On
account of that nobody called anybody else by there right name. For
instance he said they called the General Pancake an the Colonel Peggy
an this place was called Pineapple.
The more I thought about it the more it sounded like a good sensible
idear to me. I went in an told the Lootenant that unless he had
something better I thought Id call him Prune juice from then on. He
said Id guessed wrong unless I wanted to act as a stone crusher on a
road gang. The trouble with most of these fellos is there to stuck up
to play the game. Its all right to call a General Pancake or a Colonel
Peggy but you want to watch out what you call a 2nd Lootenant.
Well Mable, if what they say is true the doboys will be goin over
pretty soon. The Lootenant says were goin with em. Its about as good
a chance to pick up a few first hand soovenirs as a fello could want.
In case anything happens like my gettin killed or such dont bother
about goin into mornin or buyin a lot of new letter paper. Just give
them that pictur of me standin in front of the American flag. An when
the reporters call for details remember the skies the limit.
yours until the Fritzes get me
_Bill_
_Dere Mable:_
Its nobodies fault but the Fritzes that you aint gettin an
extinguished service medal insted of this letter. A couple of mornins
after I rote you last Joe woke me up an said they were puttin on a
battle upstairs. From the way they were shootin things up he thought
they ought to be down in the dug-out in a little while. Joes the kind
of a fello that gets you up an hour before theres any need for it. I
told him to call me when he heard them at the top of the stairs.
Practical. Thats me all over, Mable. Then I turned over to get some
sleep.
Then the Lootenant came runnin down cussin an swearin because the fone
was busted. He told us wed have to go back to the battery an tell em
to snap out of it an show the Fritzes that it took two to make an
argument. From where we was the Fritzes seemed to be puttin up a
pretty good argument all alone an most of it seemed to be goin in the
direckshun of the battery. But Joe says Sailor Gare so we started off
down the road. There was plenty of noise out there. It was awful foggy
but you could see the red flashes once in a while when one of them lit
in a field near the road.
Every time one busted Joe would duck into a ditch. He had me doin it
pretty soon. The more we ducked the more we couldnt help it till we
was goin down the road like a couple of Rushin dancers. Then we broke
all the rules of the runners union an ran.
We didnt have no trouble findin the Captin cause we knew just where to
look. Just as we started to go down in his dug-out we heard a big one
comin and both landed together at the bottom. After a fellos face gets
broken in to goin down stairs that way its the easiest way. The Captin
was awful sore. He wanted to know what the this an that we meant by
comin in without knockin. That fello would want you to salute if you
had both arms shot off. I didnt say nothin. Just gave him the
Lootenants message.
That seemed to make him madder still. He pushed the papers around on
his desk an said didnt that one thing an another Lootenant know he
couldnt get fire without orders from regimental headquarters. An didnt
he know that regimental headquarters couldnt give any order till they
was asked for it by doboy headquarters. An why the this an that didnt
we go to the doboys if we wanted some fire.
Id like to have told him where to go to get some fire. I just saluted
tho, an said "Yes sir." Spirited. Thats me all over, Mable. Then we
went back to pass the buck to the Lootenant. The doboy oficers was all
sittin around tellin him how good the Inglish artilery was. A couple
of hours later when Joe an I was havin breakfast we heard the battery
fire about twenty shots. The doboys said it was lucky we didnt fire
any more cause they was probably all shorts anyway. That dont mean
that they were a different size or anything, Mable. A short is a shell
that hasnt got the ambishun.
I went up to an artilery observashun post with the Lootenant the other
day. Only it isnt a post but a round tin house like a ticket office
set in the trenches on top of a hill. Theres a slit cut in the front
to look thru. The Lootenant showed me where Nobodies land was. I could
see the Fritz trenches runnin in front of a piece of woods about half
a mile away. They must have all been away on a furlo or something
cause there wasnt as much as a fly sittin over there.
This is a great place for soovenirs. I got a lot of buttons, a piece
of shell, a couple of bones I found stickin out of the trench an a
Fritz hand grenade. As soon as I can find a box Im goin to send you
the whole bunch. I wouldnt monkey with the hand grenade much. It
doesnt look as if it had ever exploded. Give it to Archie Wainwright
an tell him its a trench warmer. Maybe hell stick it in the fire.
[Illustration: "IT DOESNT LOOK AS IF IT HAD EVER EXPLODED"]
In the afternoon when things is quiet an everybodies asleep we go out
an throw hand grenades at the rats. Thats good sport cause you got to
be quick or youll get your self insted of a rat. Joe Mink had to spoil
it of course by blowin in dug outs. Hed have been all right if hed
picked old dug outs but he wasnt satisfied till hed found one with a
fello comin up the stairs. I dont see yet tho why there was such a
holler raised. The old thing didnt go off. It just caught the fello in
the stummick an knocked some wind out. He blacked Joes eyes an then
went to the Major. Joes back in the eschelon now groomin horses. Angus
MacKenzie has come up in his place so Im just as satisfied.
I guess were goin across pretty soon now. Then Ill be able to get a
helmet an a looger pistel an a pair of feel glasses. I guess the
Fritzes are gettin scared. I hope there not as scared as I am.
yours indefinitely
_Bill_
_Dere Mable:_
Since I rote you last I been over the top with the doboys, taken a
woods that I cant see why anybody wanted, an collected enuff soovenirs
to equip a South American army. Im ritin this from a Fritz dug-out in
the middle of the woods on Fritz oficers paper. If Id telefoned ahed
he couldnt have had things fixed up better for me. There was a lunch
out on the table an blankets an even clean underclose (if youll excuse
my menshuning them). They used to have electric lights here but
somebody soovenired the dinamo so they wont work.
The nite before we went over four more artilery runners came up. I ast
the Lootenant if they was plannin to send any doboys over to help us
in the attack. He said there had to be a lot of runners sos that when
two went back with a message an got killed he could send two more.
Always cheery an bright, the Lootenant.
The nite before the attack we went up to a tunnel thats dug right
under a hill an has got rooms in it an everything. Those fellos didnt
seem to care how many shovels they wore out. We got into it down a
long flight of steps in the pitch dark where I like to have broke my
neck. Then down a long passage feelin your way along the road. Every
four or five feet somebody would run into you an cuss you.
At last we came round a bend an there was all the doboys sittin in the
mud eatin supper an smokin. The only lights they had was pieces of
candle stuck up on there equipment. It looked like the whole army was
in that tunnel an all smokin at the same time. The Lootenant told us
to make ourselves comfortable then he disappeared into one of the
rooms off to the side.
About ten o'clock all the doboys got up an went out. Then we sat in
the mud and waited for three hours. Angus found some duck boards and
went to sleep.
Some time after midnite a lot of oficers came out of the room. We
walked thru the tunnel so far that I figgered that we must be comin
out somewhere behind the German lines. At last we climed a flight of
stairs an there we were right out doors. Id expected thered be an
awful battle goin on by that time but everything was as quiet as
church except for a few big ones that would sail over every once in a
while. The stars were all out just like it was an ordinary nite. We
walked along a lot of paths an fell over a lot of old barb wire, then
dropped into a trench. It struck me that was the time to go across
while things were quiet. But I heard the doboy Major say that there
was only four more hours to wait. These fellos are worse than your
family for gettin to places on time.
Everything was quiet for a long time. Then all of a sudden all the
guns in the world began bangin away at the same minit. Over the top of
the hill behind us an as far as you could see ether way it was just
one big flash. Then the shells began racin over, squealin an whisselin
an rumblin along like they was racin each other to see who was goin
to get first crack at the Fritzes.
Every one of them seemed to have its own speshul whissel tied onto it.
Some of them rumbled along like a fast train hittin a down grade. Some
would just sing an hum to themselves sort of quiet an happy while
others would go yellin an screamin across like the fire department on
an exhibishun run. There was one bunch that squealed like a trolly
goin round a turn on dry rails. You sort of felt as if someone ought
to grease it.
Besides all these noises over our heads there was the poundin an
hammerin behind us from the guns themselves. The big fellos just boom
boomed away like a bunch of base drums. Up nearer tho it was like a
mountin of giant fire crackers goin off together. Then thered be a let
up for a second like a fello thats awful mad but runs out of words.
After that theyd go at it agen harder than ever.
The best part of it was that most of them was our own shells. The
Fritzes didnt seem to get into the spirit of the thing at all. Every
few minutes theyd sail over a big one right near the tunnel where we
came out. That was about as safe a place as he could have put em cause
there wasnt anybody there.
At first the noise an everything gave a fello something to think
about. After a while tho you got used to it just like you do to
Niagra Falls or a steam radiator. Then there wasnt anything to do but
get cold an ask about the time. A couple of doboys got tellin each
other what kind of a dinner theyd order if they was some place where
they wasnt. Whenever you get uncomfortable enuff a couple of fellos
like that always show up. I slid down in the bottom of the trench
where it was a little warmer an tried to smoke a cigaret under my
hand. I must have dropped off to sleep cause the next thing I knew I
was all doubled up in the bottom of the trench an half froze. I heard
somebody say "Fifteen minites more." The guns was goin it harder than
ever. If we hadnt won that scrap wed have had to knock off the war for
a couple of months till they got some more amunishun.
Goin over wasnt much. Id read so many things about how you felt just
before an just when an just after that I tried to figger just how I
did feel. I was so cold I couldnt feel anything tho. I was thinkin
about this when somebody says "Snap out of it ahead there. There
goin." An there was the Lootenant boostin the Major out of the trench
an a lot of doboys with their rifles in there hands hurryin along the
top an disappearin in the fog.
[Illustration: "THERE WAS THE LOOTENANT BOOSTIN THE MAJOR OUT OF THE
TRENCH"]
Just as we got out of the trench the worst noise started I ever heard.
It made all the shootin that went before sound like a fello drummin on
the table with a couple of knives. Even the machine guns was in it
this time. They sounded like a rivitin competishun in a ship yard. I
heard somebody say "There goes our machine gun barrage. I hope they
get it over our heads." He struck me as a pretty sensible fello.
Somebody had marked the place up with tape like a tennis court. We
followed along one of these till we came to another tape runnin the
same way as the trenches. There was a lot of doboys lyin down there an
a lot of others comin up thru the fog, half runnin, half walkin an all
of them stooped over like they was carryin something heavy.
In front it was just fog. We could see red flashes runnin thru it like
bubbles in boilin water where the shells from our barrage was bustin.
The fog didnt go very high cause you could make out a little blue sky
once in a while. Then right thru the top of it came tearin out a
regular fourth of July celebrashun of Fritz fireworks. They were just
like the rockets at Weewillo Park that spit out long snakes of gold
fire like a broom when they bust. The nearer that barrage came to the
Fritz trenches the faster they went up all along the line.
We lay there a few minites till everybody came up. The thing that
struck me now was that I wasnt scared. Id been more afraid of bein
scared than anything else. Then the Major got up an started on with
everybody else taggin along with him. It was to foggy to see what was
happenin on each side. We went down a hill. It got swampy an we struck
some duck boards. Somebody must have been over before us an put them
down. If they could get around as easy as that it beat me what they
were makin all this fuss for.
All around us was big shell holes filled with water. They gave the
Americans a second hand battle field to begin on. The French had used
it lots of times before. Once I lost sight of the Lootenant an stepped
off the duck boards to pass some doboys. It was like steppin into a
well. There didnt seem to be any bottom to it. I grabbed hold of a
doboy that was goin by but he pushed me back agen an says "Who the
this an that do you think your mawlin around here?" Then somebody gave
me a hand. What I needed more than a tin derby was a pair of water
wings. I didnt feel cold any more tho.
Something happened to the duckboards an we was wadin in mud to our
knees. Every once in a while Id slip into a shell hole an then Id have
to run to catch up agen. That Major must have been brought up in
Indiana the way he got thru the mud. My rapped leggins began to shrink
an the cavs of my legs hurt something awful. But we kept goin an goin
without ever gettin to the Fritz trenches.
After a while we came to a little creek about ten foot wide with
bushes along each side. The Major an a couple of the oficers just
jumped right in an waded across. It wasnt much over there waste but it
looked awful cold an black slippin along thru the fog. The doboys
stood for a minit on the bank shivering like a dog when you throw a
stick he wants in a pond he knows is cold.
I wish you could have heard the Major cuss. He had a line that would
have driven a team of mules without reins or a whip. Naturally havin
gotten all wet he couldnt see callin the battle off there. Pretty soon
some doboy jumped in right where hed gone over. Then it seemed like
the whole army was fightin to get across in that one place. Of course
they had the whole creek to pick from but somehow nobody thought of
that till everything was all over.
All this time I kept thinkin how we was most across Nobodies land an I
wasnt scared yet. I got so cocky about it I stopped to light a cigaret
just to show the doboys that a battle or so didnt make no difference
to me one way or the other. But we were thru the swamp now an my legs
hurt agen. We came to a road runnin right down the middle of Nobodies
Land. The Major stopped here an sent out fellos to see where the rest
of the outfit was. The fog was still so thick you couldnt see nothin
an you couldnt hear nothin of course on acount of the racket.
All of a sudden a flock of machine guns got under way at the same
time. There was a noise all around like a bunch of fellos whisselin
thru there teeth. Everyone dropped down in the grass. I lay so close
to the ground I bet I was a foot wider than usual. Then I knew the
reason I hadnt been scared before was because nobodied been firin at
us till now. Fightin is good fun, Mable, as long as the bullets are
all goin the same way as you are. I dropped my cigaret when I flopped
down. Now I could smell it burnin a hole thru my coat. I wouldnt have
raised up enuff to pull it out tho if it had burned a hole right thru
me.
As soon as the whisselin let up a little the Major jumped up an says
how he didnt know where the rest of the army was but we wasnt goin to
lie there an rot. I didnt feel as if I was goin to rot for quite a
while but I didnt like to get left behind so I tagged along. We passed
two or three of our fellos that was done in. Then a bunch of barb wire
with a couple of doboys workin like hell with wire clippers. Our
shells had busted it up pretty good but there was an awful lot to
bust.
Just as we got thru the wire somebody says "Look out." A Fritz was
runnin toward us thru the fog. His hands was floppin over his head
kind of loose an he was makin the queerest noises I ever heard. The
way I imagine a sheep would if youd kicked it.
His helmet was so big it looked more like a tin sunbonnet. He was
just a kid an the scardest one I ever seen. We didnt have time to
soovenir him. Somebody just planted him an awful kick that sent him
across the barb wire an out of sight thru the fog in the direcshun of
our lines.
[Illustration: "HIS HELMET LOOKED LIKE A TIN SUNBONNET"]
Something else moved up ahead. We yelled at it but it didnt say nothin
so a couple of doboys dropped down an fired. We passed him a minit
later. He was layin on his back with one arm still floppin a little
like a fello thats restless in his sleep.
We were right in the Fritz trenches now. They were the ones Id seen a
few days before from the observashun post. Everybody seemed to have
cleared out except a few that was beyond clearin. There machine guns
was layin around still hot. The doboys just distributed a few bums
into the dug-outs like salvashun army tracks. Then we climed out an
went on.
The woods werent more than half a minit from the trenches. We ran
right into them before we knew it. Everybody just busted into the
bushes but I tell you Mable, it was worse than takin a cold bath in
winter. I expected to fall into a machine gun nest any minit. Nobody
tried to stop us tho. It looked as tho theyd all beat it. Pretty soon
I came to a road all made out of boards. Id lost the Lootenant and the
Major by this time but there was a lot of doboys around an it looked
as tho the show was all over anyway. Just as we stepped out on the
road about a dozen Fritzes came runnin down with there hands floppin
over there heads an blattin like the first one had. Some doboy made a
pass at one of them with a bayonet just for fun. He started to whine
like a kid. No matter how scared I ever get Mable Ill never be as
scared as these Fritzes an thats sayin a goodeel.
Things seemed pretty well over so I stopped to help the doboys
soovenir this bunch. I just took a few buttons an a helmet offen one.
He had red hair. Most of them wanted us to take everything they had.
Then I started up the road to see if I could find the Lootenant an the
Major an a looger pistel. There was a bunch of us all together. I dont
know just how it happened but I guess there must have been a machine
gun planted at a bend in the road just ahead of us. It cut loose as
soon as the last prisoner had started for the rear. I could hear those
old pills whisselin thru there teeth at me as they went past. A couple
of the doboys dropped without lettin out a sound an I made a move that
would have deceived the quickest eye. I never saw a road cleared so
quick in my life. An there I lay beside the board road, Mable,
lissenin to the machine gun bullets playin she loves me she loves me
not with the daisies over my head.
I hated to lose that helmet havin taken it off the Fritz myself an he
havin red hair an the like. So I slipped it into an openin under the
road. Then I noticed everybody else crawlin away thru the bushes so I
crawled after them havin nothin else to do.
After Id crawled till it seemed like I must be pretty near out of the
woods an the knees of my trousers I stood up. When I looked around for
the doboys there wasnt any. All I could hear was rivitin machines an
shells bustin all around me. An the bullets was criss-crossin thru the
bushes like a bunch of draggin flies. It seemed like a useless place
for an artilery fello to be in.
Well, Mable, Im goin to quit now cause one of the doboy runners is
goin back an I want to give him this letter. I am enclosin some mud I
picked up in Nobodies Land. It may help to give you some idear of the
country.
Yours to the last Fritz
_Bill_
_Dere Mable:_
I never thought Id be ritin such long letters that Id have to be
gettin them off my chest on the instalment plan. Ive sharpened my
pencil so ofen there aint hardly enuff left to hang onto. There
shellin the woods today. Every time one lands anywhere near the dug
out something seems to break the point.
Well, Mable, in my last letter I left myself standin all alone in the
middle of the woods lissenin to a lot of things flyin round my head
that arent in no bird book. I was beginnin to think wether, havin lost
the Lootenant an the Major, I hadnt ought to go back to my battery.
Duty before plesure. Thats me all over, Mable. Just then I heard
someone comin thru the woods.
That was the worst minit of my life except once when I had to make a
speech in High School. I decided if it was goin to be my last Id spend
it as private as I could so I stepped behind a bush. Whoever was comin
seemed to have the spring halt. Hed come a little way. Then hed stop.
Then hed come a little. I couldnt figger where I had any call to act
as a Fritz recepshun comittee so I started to crawl away. Just as I
stuck my head around the bush I saw something that made me lie down
agen so hard I bet the ground is still stamped with the eagels on my
buttons. It was only the end of a shoe passin thru the brush about
fifteen feet away. There are times tho when an old shoe can look worse
than your granfathers gost sittin on the end of your bed makin faces
at you.
[Illustration: "I STUCK MY HEAD AROUND THE BUSH"]