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machine: gunner,mng in erance—
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<£)l‘JI7 BY
AKTHiJRli/unPfY
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SYNOPSIS.
CHAPTEn I—Fired by the news of the
sinking of the Lusitania bv a German
submarine, Arthur Guy Empev, an Ameri
can, leaves ills office in Jersey City and
goes to England where he enlists In the
prltish army.
■CHAPTER II—After a period of train
ing, Empey volunteers for immediate serv
ice and soon finds himself in rest billets
••somewhere in France,” where he first
makes the acquaintance of the ever-pres
ent "cooties.”
CHAPTER 111—Empey attends his first
church services at the front while a Ger
man Fokker circles over the congregation.
CHAPTER IV—Empey's command goes
into the front-line trenches and is under
fire for the first time.
CHAPTER V—Empey learns to adopt
the motto of the Hrtish Tommy, "If you
are going to get it, you’ll get it, so never
worrv ”
CHAPTER VI. •; jZi
—
“Back of the Line."
Our tour In the front-line trench
lasted four days, and then we were
relieved by the- brigade.
lining down the communication
trench we were in u merry mood, al
though we were cold and wet, and
every hone In our bodies ached. It
ure “gotnf? in" or "going out.”
At the end of the communication
trench, limiters were waiting on the
roud for us. I thought we were going
to ride back to rest billets, but soon
found out that the only time, an in
fantryman rides Is when he is
wounded and is bound for the base or
Mighty. These limbers carried our
reserve ammunition and rations. Our
march to rest billets was thoroughly
enjoyed by me. It seemed as if I
were on furlough, and was leaving be
hind everything that was disagree
able and horrible. Every recruit feels
this way after being relieved from tiie
trenches.
We marched eight kilos and then
halted in front of a French estaminet.
The captain gave the order to turn
out on each side of the road and wait
his return. Pretty soon he came back
♦:ftf toid B company to occupy billets
117, 118 and 119. Billot 117 was an
old stable which hud previously been
occupied by cows. .At>out four feel in
front of the entrance was a huge ma
nure pile, and the odor from It was
anything but pleasant. I'sing nn
flashlight 1 stumbled through the door.
Just before .entering I observed a
white sign reading: "Sitting 50, lying
20,” hut, at the time, its signitiennce
did not strike me. Next morning I
asked the sergeant major wlint it
meant. He nonchalantly answered :
“That’s some of the work of the It.
A. M. C. (Hoyal Army Medical corps).
It simply means that In case of an nt
tnck, this billet will accommodate
fifty wounded who are able to sit up
and take notice, or twenty stretcher
cases.”
It was not long after this that I was
one of the "20 lying.”
I soon hit the hay and was fast
asleep, even my friends the “cooties"
failed to disturb me.
The next morning at about six
o’clock I was awakened by the lance
corporal of our section, informing me
that I had been (^tailed as mess or
derly, and to report to the cook and
give him a hand. I helped him make
the fire, curry water from an old well,
and fry the bacon. Lids of dixies are
used to cook the bacon in. After
breakfast was cooked, I carried a dixie
of hot lea and the lid full of bacon to
our section, and told the corporal that
breakfast was ready. He looked at me
in contempt, and then shouted, "Break
fast up, come and get it!” I immedi
ately got wise to the trench parlance,
UUU Ul'VtT IU1UI1UCU »**“«■
.fast was served.”
i It didn’t tuke long for the Tommies
to answer tills cull. Half dressed,
they lined up with their canteens and
I dished out the tea. Each Tommy
carried in his hand a thick slice o<
bread which had been Issued with tin
rations the night before. Then 1 had
the pleasure of seeing them dig lntc
the bacon with their dirty lingers. ’1 lie
allowance was one slice per man. '1 he
late ones received very small slices
As each Tommy got his share lie im
mediately disappeared into the billet
Pretty soon about fifteen of them made
a rush to the cookhouse, each carry l w
a huge slice of bread. These slices
they dipped into the bacon grease
which was stewing over the fire. Tin
Inst man invariably lost out. I win
the last man.
1 After breakfast our section earriec
their equipment into a field adjoining
the billet and got busy removing tin
trench mud therefrom, because at 8:4.’
a. m„ they had to full in for lnspectioi
and parade, and woe betide the nun
who was unshaven, or hud mud on his
juniform. Cleanliness is next to godli
ness in the British army, and Old Pep
per must have been personally uc
iquninted with St. Peter.
| Our drill consisted of close-ordei
|formation, which lasted until noon
[During this time we had two ten uiiy
ute breaks for rest, and no sooner the i
word, “Full out for ten minutes,” was I
given than each Tommy got out a fag
and lighted it.
Fa&s are Issued every Sunday morn
ing, and you generally get between
twenty and forty. The brand gen
erally issued is the “Woodbine." Some
times we are lucky and get -“Gold
flakes,” “Players” 'or “Red Hussars.’
Occasionally an issue of “Life Rays”;
comes along. Then the older Tommies
Immediately get busy on the recruits
and trade these for “Woodbines” 01
"Goldflakes." A recruit only has tc
be stuck once in Ibis manner, and tlier
he ceases to be a recruit. There is s
reason. Tommy is a great cigarette
smoker. He smokes under alt condi
tious, except when unconscious oi
when he is reconnoitering iu No Mau’i
^Land at night. Then, for obvious rea
sons, lie does not care to have a light- j
ed cigarette in hi-; mouth.
Stretcher bearers carry fags for |
wounded Tommies. When a stretcher
bearer arrives alongside of a Tomm.v
who has been hit the following conver
sation usually takes place: Stretcher
hearer—“Want a fag? Where are you
hit?” Tommy looks up and answers, j
“Yes. In the leg.”
I After dismissal from parade, we re
turned to our billets and 1 had to get j
I butty immediately with the dinner is
j sue. Dinner consisted of stew made
from fresh beef, a couple of spuds,
Dully beef, Muconochie rations and wa
| ter—plenty of water. There is great
i competition annwig the men to spear
I with their forks the two lonely pota- ,
! toes.
After dinner I tried to wash out
j the dixie with cold water and a rag,
| and learned another maxim of the
| trenches—“It can't be done.” I slyly
j watched one of the older men from
; another section, and was horrified to
i see him throw into his dixie four or
live double handfuls of mud. Then he
poured in some water, and with ills
hnnds scoured the dixie inside and out.
I thought he wits taking an awful risk,
j Supposing the cook should have seen
' him 1 After half an hour of unsuc
cessful efforts I returned my dixie to
I the cook shack, being careful to put on
! Hie cover, and returned to tlie billet.
Resting Back of the Lines.
I’retty soon the cook poked his hen<l
in the door nud shouted: “Hey, Yank,
come out here and clean your dixie!”
I protested that I had wasted a half
hour on it already, and had used up
in; only remaining shirt in the at
tempt. With a look of disdain he ex
claimed: “Plow me, your shirt I Why
i in -didn't you use mud?”
Without n word in reply I got busy
with the mud, and soon my dixie was
bright and shining.
Most of tlie afternoon was spent by
the men writing letters horn** I used
my spare time to chop wood for the
cook and go with the quartermaster to
draw coal. I got back just in time to
issue our third meal, which consisted
of hot ten. I rinsed out my dixie and
returned It to the cookhouse, and went
hack to the billet with an exhilarated
feeling that my day’s labor was done.
I had fallen asleep on the straw when
once again the cook appeared In the
door of the billet with : “Ulime me, you
Yanks are lazy. Who in-a-goin’ to
draw the water for the mornin’ tea?
Do you think I’m n-goln’ to? Well,
I'm not,” ann he left. I filled the dixie
with water final an old squeaking well,
and once again lay down in the straw.
CHAPTER VII.
Rations.
Just dozing off; Mr. Lance Corporal
bntted in.
In Tommy’s eyes a lance corporal Is
■ one degree below a private. In the
corporal's eyes he Is one degree above
a general.
He ordered nie to go with him gud
help him draw the next day's rations,
also told me to take my waterproof.
Every evening, from eryh platoon or
machine-gun section, a lance corporal
and private go to the quartermaster
sergeant at the company stores and
draw rations for the following day.
The “quarter,” as the quartermaster
sergeant is called, receives daily from
the orderly room (captain’s office) a
dip showing the number of men en
titled to rations, so there Is no chance
of putting anything over on him. Many
arguments take place between the
“quarter” and the platoon noncorn, hut
the former always wins out. Tommy
says the “quarter” got his job because
he was a burglar in civil life.
Then I spread the waterproof sheet
on the ground, while the quartermas
ter's batman dumped the rations on it.
The corporal was smoking a fag. 1
carried the rations back to the billet.
The corporal was still smoking a fag.
I low 1 envied him. But when the issue
commenced my envy died, and 1 real
ized that the first requisite of a non
commissioned officer on active service
is diplomacy. There were 10 men in
our section, and they soon formed a
semicircle around us after the corporal
had called out. “Rations up.”
The quartermaster sergeant had
given a slip to the corporal on which
was written a list of the rations. Sit
ting on the floor, using a wooden box
as a table, the issue commenced. On
the left of the corporal the rations
lowing:
Six loaves of fresh bread, each loaf
of a different size, perhaps one out of
the six being as flat as a pancake, the
result of an army service corps man
placing a box of bully beef ou it dur
ing transportation.
Tnree tins of jam, one uppie and the
other two plum.
Seventeen Bermuda onions, ull dif
ferent sizes.
A piece of cheese in the shape of a
wedge.
Two one-pound tins of butter.
A handful of raisins.
A tin of biscuits, or as Tommy calls
them “jaw breakers.”
A bottle of mustard pickles.
The “bully beef,” spuds, condensed
milk, fresh meat, bacon and “Maeono
eliie rations” (a can filled with meat,
vegetables and greasy water), had heen
turned over to the company cook to
make a stew for next day’s dinner. He
also received the tea, sugar, salt, pep
per and flour.
Scratching his head, the corporal
studied the slip issued to him by the
quarter. Then in a slow, mystified
voice lie read out, “No. 1 section, 10
men. Bread, loaves, six.” lie looked
puzzled and soliloquized in a musing
voice:
“Six loaves, nineteen men. Let's see.
that’s three in a loaf for fifteen men—
well, to make It even, four of you'll
have to muck in on one loaf.”
The four that got stuck made n howl,
hut to no avail. The bread was dished
out. Pretty soon from a far corner of
the billet, three Indignant Tommies ac
costed the corporal with:
“What do you call this, a loaf of
bread? Looks more like a sniping
plate.”
Tlie corporal answered:
“Well, don’t blame me, I didn't hake
it; somebody's got to get It, so shut
tip until I dish out these blinkin’ ra
tions.”
Then the corporal started on the
jam.
“Jam, three tins—apple one, plum
two. Nineteen men, three tins. Six
in a tin makes twelve men for two tins,
seven in the remaining tin.”
lie passed around the jam, and
there was another riot. Some didn't
like apple, while others who received
plum were partial to apple. After a
while differences were adjusted and
the issue went on.
“Bermuda onions, seventeen."
The corporal avoided a row by say
ing that he did not want an onion, and
1 said they make your breath smell, so
I guessed I would do without one too.
The corporal looked his gratitude.
“Cheese, pounds, two.”
The corporal borrowed a jackknife
(corporals are always borrowing), and
sliced the cheese—each slicing bring
ing forth a port remark from the on
lookers as to the corporal’s eyesight.
“IJaisins, ounces, eight.”
Hy this time the corporal’s nerves
hail gone west, ami iu despair he said
that the raisins were to be turned over
to the cook for "dull” (plum pudding).
This decision elicited a little “grous
ing.” hut quiet was finally restored.
“Biscuits, tins, one.”
With his borrowed jackknife, the
corporal opened the tin of biscuits, and
told everyone to help themselves—no
body responded to this invitation.
Tommy is “fed tip” with biscuits.
“Butter, tins, two.”
“Nine in one. ti n in the other.”
Another ruiupus.
“Pickles, mustard, bottles, one.”
Nineteen names were put in a steel
helmet, the last one out winning the
pickles. On the neat issue there were
only IS names, as the winner is elimi
nated until every man in the section
lias won a bottle.
The rattle is closely watched, because
Tommy is suspicious when it comes to
gambling with his rations.
When the issue is finished the cor
poral sits down and writes a letter
home, asking them if they cannot get
some M. 1*. (member of parliament) to
have him transferred to the Koyal Fly
ing corps where he won't have to Issue
rations.
At the different French est ami nets
In tile village and at the canteens Tom
my buys fresh eggs, milk, bread and
pastry. Occasionally when lie Is flush,
he Invests In a tin of pears or uprt
eots. His pay Is only a shilling a day,
■J1 cents, or a cent an hour. Just Imag
ine, a cent an hour for being under
Averages 25/Ailes
Gallon,, QaSGlina
The Lowesf Priced
Elecirxcallq Equipped Automobile
in ihe World
THE
VALVE-IN-HEAD
MOTOR
in the Chevrolet explodes its
gasoline in the piston cham
ber—and explodes it com
pletely. It develops all the
gas power in the fuel as
there are no po'.hets to hold burned gases that
weaken the mixture.
In this motoc, the explosion occurs right over the
piston head -and all the power drives straight
against the piston. None is lost in turning a
corner from a separate explosion chamber.
The Valve-in-head motor is used by the Govern
ment on airplanes and wherever unusual power
and reliability are demanded.
For getting about over the farm, running In to
town or over to a neighbor’s, and for the pleasure
of all the family the light, strong-built Chevrolet
with this extra powerful, reliable and economical
engine, is the car of all cars.
Chevrolet Motor Co. of St. Louis
DISTRIBUTOR
R. D. WILLIAMS,
. Magnolia, Ark.
New Chevrolet Model Now on Dupluy '
Itii.i i iaui
imoamooMiT
BiiaiisiimaHi4ii((i)iii!siipiiiii«iiviiiiiiMSjifl!irj
in mm
lire—not much chance of got t int: rich
out there.
When ho goes Into the fire trench
(front lino), Tommy’s menu takes a
tumble. He curries in his haversack
what the government calls emergency
or iron rations. Jl'hey are not supposed
to he opened until Tommy dies of star
vation. They consist of one tin of
bully beef, four biscuits, a little tin
which contains tea, ■ sugar and <t\o
cubes (concentrated beef tablets).
These are only to be used when the
enemy establishes it curtain of shell
lire on the communication trenches,
thus preventing the “carrying in" of
rations, or when in an attack a body
of troops has been cut off from its base
of supplies.
The rations are brought up at night
by the company transport. This is a
section of the company in charge ot
the quartermaster sergeant, composer
of men, mules and limbers (two
wheeled wagons), which supplies Tom
mv’s wants while in the front line
They are constantly under shell fire
The rations are unloaded at the en
trance to the communication trenche:
and a re “carried in” by men de tidier
for that purpose. The quartermastei
sergeant never goes into the front-Ilnr
trench. He doesn’t Wive to, and I him
never heard of one volunteering tc
do so.
The company sergeant major sorts
the rations amt sends them in.
Tommy's trench rations consist of all
the bully beef he can eat, biscuits,
cheese, tinned butter (sometimes 17
men to a tin), jam or marmalade, and
occasionally fresli bread (ten to a
loaf). When it is possible he gets tea
and stew.
When things are quiet, and Fritz is
behaving like a gentleman, which sel
nom happens, Tommy has the opportu
nity of making dessert. This is
‘trench pudding'.” it is made from
oroken biscuits, condensed milk, jam—
a little water adcl^d, slightly flavored
With mud—put into a canteen and
cooked over a little spirit stove known
as “Tommy's cooker.”
(A firm in Blighty widely advertises
these cookers as a necessity for the
men In the trenches. Gullible people
buy them—ship them to the Tommies,
who, immediately upon receipt of same
throw them over the parapet. Some
times a Tommy falls for the ad, and
uses the cooker in a dugout to the dis
gust and discomfort of the other oc
cupants.)
This mess is stirred up in a tin and
allowed to simmer over the flames
from tlie cooker until Tommy decides
that it has reached sufficient (gluelike)
consistency. He takes his bayonet and
by means of the handle carries the
mess up in the front trench to cool.
After it has cooled off he tries to eat it.
Generally one or two Tommies in a
section have cast-iron stomachs and
the tir is soon emptied. Once I tnsted
trench pudding, hut only once.
In addition to the regular ration is
sue Tommy uses another channel to
enlarge liis menu.
In the English papers a “Lonely
Soldier” column is run. This is for
the soldiers at the front who are sup
posed to be without friends or rela
tives. They write to the papers and
rheir names are published, (lirls and
women in England answer them, and
send out parcels of foodstuffs, ciga
rettes, candy, etc. I have known a
“lonely” soldier to receive ns many ns
live parcels and eleven letters In one
week.
CHAPTER VIII.
The Little Wooden Cross.
After remaining in rest billets for
eight days, we received the unwelcome
; tidings that the next morning we would
! “go In” to “take oyer.” At six in the
morning our march started and, after
a long march down the dusty road, w<
again arrived at reserve billets,
i I was No. 1 In the leading 4et of
fours. The man on my left was named
“l’ete Walling,” a cheery sort of fel
low. Tie laughed and joked all the
way on the march, buoying up my
drooping spirits. I could not figure out
anything attractive In again occupying
tin* front line, but Pete did not seem to
mind, said it was all in a lifetime. Mj
left heel was blistered from the rub
bing of my heavy marching boot. Pete
noticed that I was limping and offered
| to carry my rifle, but by this time T had
! learned the ethics of the march in the
British army and courteously refused
his offer.
We had gotten half-way through the
communication trench, Pete In my im
mediate renr. lie had his hand on my
shoulder, as men in a communication
trench have to do to keep in touch with
each other. We had just climbed over
a bashed-in part of the trench when
in our renr a mnn tripped over a loose
signal wire, and let out an oath. As
usual, Pete rushed to his help. To
reach the fallen man he had to cross
this bashed-in part. A bullet cracked
■ in the air and I ducked. Then a ninar
• from the rear. My heart stood still
I went back and Pete was lying on the
’ ground. By the aid of my flashlight
i I saw that he had his hand pressed to
his right breast. The fingers wore cov
ered with blood. I flashed the light
on his face and In its glow a grayish
lilmt nnlnr wow Gfnolirur iwnr liia omin.
tenanee. Pete looked up at me and
said: “Well. Yank, they’ve done me In.
I enn feel myself going West.” His
voice wns getting fainter nnd T had to
kneel down to get his words. Then he
prove me n inessiipe to write home to
his mother and his sweetheart, and I.
like a great hlg hooh, cried like a baby.
I wns losing my first friend of the
trenches.
Word was passed to the rear for a
stretcher. He died before it arrived.
Two of us put the body on the
stretcher nnd carried if to the nearest
tirst-nid post, where the doctor took
an official record of Pete’s name, num
ber, rank nnd regiment from his iden
tity disk, this to be used in the cas
ualty lists and notification to ids
family.
We left Pete there, but It broke our
hearts to do so. The doctor informed
us that we could bury him the next
morning. That afternoon live of the
boys of our section, myself included,
wont to the little ruined village in the
rear and from the deserted gardens of
the French chateaux gathered grass
and flowers. From these we made a
wreath. t
While (lie hoys were making this
wreath. 1 sat under a shot-scarred
apple tree and carved out the follow
ing verses on a little wooden shield
which wo nailed on Pete’s cross.
True to his God; true to Britain,
Doing his duty to the last,
Just one more name to be written
On the Roll of I tonin' of livriws passed—
Passed to their God, enshrined in glory.
Kntering life of eternal rest.
One more chapter In England's story
Of her sons doing tlieir best.
Rest, you soldier, mate so true.
Never forgotten by us below;
Know that we are thinking of you.
Ere to our rest we are bidden to go.
Next morning tlio whole section wort
over to say good-by to Pete, and la'd
him away to rest.
After each one had it look at the face
of the dead, it corporal of the It. A.
M. <\ sewed up the remains in a blan
ket. Then placing two heavy ropes
across the stretcher (to he used in low
ering the hotly into the grave), we lift
ed Pete onto <he stretcher, and rev
erently covered him with it large union
jack, the flag he had tiled for.
The chaplain led the way, then came
the officers of the section, followed by
two of the men carrying a wreath. Im
mediately after came poor Pete on the
flag-draped stretcher, carried tty four
soldiers. 1 was one of the four. Be
hind the stretcher, in column of fours,
came the remainder of the section.
To get to the cemetery, we hail to
pass through the little shell-destroyed
village, where troops were hurrying
i to and fro.
| As the funeral procession passed
those troops came to the ’’attention"
and smartly saluted the dead.
Poor Pete was receiving the only sa
lute a private is entitled to “some
where In France.”
Now and ngnln a shell from the Ger
man lines would go whistling over the
village to hurst in our artillery lines
in the rear.
When we reached the cemetery we
halted In front of an open grave, and
laid the stretcher beside It. Forming
a hollow square around the opening of
the grave, the chaplain read the burial
service.
German machine-gun bullets were
"cracking” In the air above us. hut
Pete didn't mind, and neither did we.
When the body was lowered Into the
grave the flag having been removed,
we clicked our heels together and
| came to the salute.
I left before the grave was filled in.
I could not bear to see the dirt thrown
on the blanket-covered fnee of my com
rade. On the western front there are
no coffins, and yon tire lucky to get a
blanket to protect you from the wet
and the worms. Several of the see
tlon stayed and decorated the grave
with white stones.
That night, in the light of a lonely
candle in the machine gunner’s dugont
of the front-line trench I wrote two
tetters. One to Pete’s mother, the
other to his sweetheart. While doing
this I cursed the Prussian war god
with all my heart, and 1 think that St.
Peter noted same.
The machine gunners In the dugnut
were laughing and Joking. To them
Pete was unknown. Pretty soon, tn the
warmth of their mr r,;T?cs
disappeared. One soon forgets on \Xi*
western front
(continued Next Week.)
SMALL PAVING BLOCKS USED
They Are Proving Popular In .Rural
Region* in Europe—Rr*t Laftt
in New York Stat*.
For a number of years country roads
In parts ot Germany, Austria and oth
er European countries have been paved
with small cubes of stone but It is not
so generally known that small-block
pavements have been laid In the Tutt
ed States. They are believed to have
been introduced first by J. Y. McClin
tock, county superintendent of Monroe
county, N. Y. After an experience of
ten years or so, he recommends the
use of blocks of vitrified clay, meas
uring 2*4 inches on each side. These
are laid on a base of gravel, macadam,
concrete or broken slag, which is usu
ally made wider than the pavement
in order to support the gravel or brok
en stone laid beside the cubes to form
hard shoulders to enrry vehicles that
Laying Vitrified Block*.
are forced to turn out of tlie main
roadway. During the last year about:
six miles of such pavement were put
down in the county.
air. M' Clintoek holds that this type
of construction is desirable where a
substantial base Is already in place, as
in the case of an old gravel or uih
cadain road which is not worn out, or
a base can be constructed at low cost.
The vitrified blocks are often laid by
unskilled labor, properly supervised,
with entirely satisfactory results.
Another type of small-block pave
ment was recently laid on the Morris
town turnpike In New Jersey, which
carries a heavy traffic. There Is a sanc
tion of this road about 1.200 feet long
I having a 7 per cent grade, where" il
, was decided to try small granite
blocks In the hope that their numerous
joints would reduce the tendency to
slip and skid on this rather Steep
-bote. The blocks are 3 to 4-inch «tbes
and were laid on a thin foimdtjjjpn.
They were not laid in rows hut
In curved lines, forming a mosaic pat
tern, and the Joints were filled wlih
fine stone and a grout of cement aVl
sand.
Utilizing Mop Vines.
A Herman agriculturist has devel
oped a method of extracting the fi
brous inner bark of bop vines for use
In the manufacture of cordage.
i