Newspaper Page Text
Dec. 19,1917.
Rifle Queers Jim On Guard
BY OUR OWN RING W. LARDNER
/7\ well al i of ben in the middul of a buntch of
/</ \\ eggzitement witch vary few peepul has a chants
[ '- > \ only wunce in a wile to get mixed into becaus i guest
_/ p . j as Aggie ced their is allways sumthing doing wear-
C ever J’ ou are y° u know me al. most of this eg-
X. f gzitement has ben on a/c of my bean on gard duty
( \ } Cy T) J part of it is due to the riffle ime lerning to handul so
\ vL x• v If tkat Germ man armie will be fewer & father between
> r when i get to frantz.
• V\. they is a no. of things that can happin to you
• A wen your on S ard al & ’ gnest ive had most of them
’ 7tV\ /in A happin to me sents iof ben a soldger such as fall
' / I I V asleep.
(? ft u this time 1 was put onto dut y as a g ar( l their
was .nothink you cood see by sutch as a moon or a
Hlo* streat Ute or nothing sutch as the cops have in the
AT lHh cit J’ witch is a job a good deyull like bean on gard
1 AX-a~~~~K7~5 h only a gard dont have no lam posts to lean agenst &
111 | his revolver is a riffle & not no pistall.
I well a ' th is gard of mine was on a rode wear
| '/a no 1 ever travels on so i thot went i took it to gard.
JIM’ W eve rythink was fine their was nothink to do but set
1 ' u “ and smoak & 1 was just getting ready to get up & go
back & tell the commanding offiser wot is the ust of
garding a rode like that nothing is ever a round wen i herd a masheen
coming, it was coming so fast i ced to myself wot is the ust of monking
with a masheen going that fast it wood only muss you up and ennyweighy
mebbee their not frends but ennymies. i ced nothink wen the masheen
cam up to wear i was setting only held my sigarett behin my back so they
coodent see me. beleev me ala gard cant taik no chants us. if these
garni mans ever catch a gard so they say their is no moar chants of his
getting a weigh than their is a chants of my getting a weigh to see Aggie
every nite in the weak witch is sum chants hay al.
well this masheen was drilling a long that rode like 1 of these hear
brittish tanx witch their is so mutch in the papers about & i was glad that
I had decide it not to chalendge them but was sitting quitely a long the
rode with my sigarett behin my back so as to not attrack no attpnshun.
you cud see the lites of the masheen grining at you out of the nite like two
eats eyes and she i mene the masheen al not the cat was snortink a weigh
and she wa spownding & maiking other noyses witch a masheen can maik.
beleev me i was geting gladder & gladder i was setting tite as that thing
cairn out of the dark and blackness, i laid back with my gun laying their
beside me & if it hadent ben for that riffle all mite of ben well and 1 &
the masheen wood of ben the best of freinds. but you cant never trust no
riffle al no moar than theshear come ediens say you cant trust no woomen
all tho wat they say i§ bunk hay al after me noing Aggie.
as i was laying their with that gunn besied me i was as inoscent as
enny babby ever was befoar it growed up into mannhood & yet sum
thing happint al that shood never have happint. just as the masheen
got up to within a cuppel of ft. of wear i was laying i shift it a round some
weigh or another and their was a sound broke out on the nite heir witch
never shbod of broke out it was the sound of a gunn xploading al & the
worse of it was that it was my gunn. the vary riffle witch had been laying
their with me. well al it is hard to tell wat happint folowing after the
riffle went off.
the masheen stopt going and the lites went out somewear & their was
some langwitch i cant rite to you for fear sum 1 mite get this not ust to
sutch talk, their was a lot of hollering & yelling & finely i dish covered
they was hollering for me but wat had i done hay al. so i just laid their
& after a wile i stretcht my arms & pretend it i had just wot up from
sleeping & ced well i guest its time for that other guy to cum hear and
gard sort of as tho their was no 1 to here me but i was talking to myself,
i guest the stiffs in the masheen must of ben scarit for they sed nothin for
a cuppel of minints & at last sum 1 ced who goes their & i replide back thats
not your line i say that who goes their yourself, then a fella cairn up with
1 of these hand electrick lites & he had a unniform on witch i found out
was an offlsers unniform. wen he seen me said are you the garde i ced
thats not for you to ask i demand to know who are you & do you know
the pastword, well he ced you have got a (deleted by censor) of a nurruv
talking to an offiser this way we was coming a long in the masheen wen a
riffle goes off was it your i ced it was untill it made that bull and exploded
now i will have nothin moar to do with it i have thrown it down four
good, i was having a fine time laying their on the ground smoaking untill
that gunn goes off now my fun is spoilt and yrs to as your masheen wood
of went buy without no trubbel. now i guest it is my duty to put you
under a rest you are my prisoner cum with me. i start it to grab him by
the overcoat tale but he ced by gordge this gink has got enough nurruv to
be a jenrill their will be no questchun but wat he will clean up the Germ
mans alright, so they goes off and leeves me al but this a. m. i was told
to cum up & see the madger & ime riteing you befoar i go.
he will probly say you have got some nurruv & mebbe want to maik
me a corprall or sumthing.
your freind PRIVATE JIM.
Your Flag And My Flag
Your flag and my flag,
And how it flies to-day
In your land and my land
And half a world away!
Rose-red and blood-red
The stripes forever gleam;
Snow-white and soul-white—
The good forefathers’ dream;
Sky-blue and true-blue, with stars to gleam aright—
The gloried guidon of the day, a shelter through the night.
Your flag and my flag!
And, oh, how much it holds—
Your land and my land—
Secure within its folds!
Your heart and my heart
Beat quicker at the sight;
Sun-kissed and wind-tossed—
Red and blue and white
The one flag—the great flag—the flag for me and you—
Glorified all else beside—the red and white and blue!
By Wilbur D. Nesbit, in Watchman Examiner.
ASK THEM TO KEEP IT
Let the folks back home know
what is doing in your camp. Send
Trench and Camp to them and ask
them to keep a complete set of the
copies for you to read after the War
ci 1317.
TRENCH AND CAMr
NO “OFFICIAL” SERVICE FLAG
No company or individual has ob
tained official sanction from the War-
Department for any particular service
flag, Secretary of War Baker has an
nounced, and no service flag can be
sold legitimately on the claim that it
is the "official” flag.
LAUGHS AT LOSS OF BOTH
LEGS; STILL EAGER TO SERVE
BY HOWARD KAHN
A port in France (By Mail)
When the transport sails
from this harbor in a few days, it
will carry the happiest boy in the
world. That is the way he charac
terizes himself. I would call him the
nerviest boy in the world.
His name is Aubrey McLeod. He
is a farmer student at Purdue Uni
versity, a resident of Boston, and he
served in an Indiana battery on the
Mexican border last year.
Ail of which has nothing to do
with why he is the happiest and the
nerviest boy in the world.
When histories of the present war
are written, Aubrey McLeod’s name
will go down as the first American
casualty. The air raid on Base Hos
pital No. , which resulted in the
death of Lieut. Fitzsimmons of the
medical corps and three privates
early in July, injured McLeod so seri
ously that his two legs had to be am
putated six inches above the knees.
This much has been briefly mention
ed in official newspaper dispatches.
But nothing has been said about Mc-
Leod himself or his hopes for the fu
ture.
I met a hospital sergeant on a
train bound for this port the other
day. “We’re taking Aubrey McLeod
home,’’ he said. “Would you like to
see him?”
I was not sure. I had seen a lot
of French and German “mutilds” dur
ing four months at the French front,
and the memory of some of them
was still with me. I did not know
whether I wanted to see a pale-faced,
drawn and suffering American. I had
known some of McLeod’s friends on
the Mexican border last summer,
however, and I thought some news of
them might cheer him a lot.
I entered his compartment. Two
soldiers were there. Both were
hearty, red-cheeked, fresh-looking
Americans, neither of whom appeared
to have known what a day’s illness
meant. "Where’s McLeod?” I asked.
His First Glimpse of McLeod
"My name is McLeod,” replied one
of them smiling.
Then I noticed that, the lower part
of his body was govered with a rug.
If the American wounded and the
American people accept their misfor
tunes like Aubrey McLeod has ac
cepted his, the receipt of the long
casualty lists which are sure to come
will cause no alarm as to American
morale.
“Looking for a sick man?” laughed
McLeod, reading my thoughts.
“There’s nobody sick around here. I
may get a little seasick in a few days,
but there won’t be anything serious
about it.”
“Just what happened?”
“A fleet of Boche planes. They
dropped six bombs. One of ’em got
me. Now I’m minus two legs.”
McLeod said all this with a smile
on his face.
“I had been on guard. Somebody
relieved me, and I lay down for some
sleep. I heard a commotion and
jumped to my feet. Two bombs went
off and I knew it was an air raid.
Then a third exploded very near to
me. Another man in my unit began
yelling, ‘help me,’ and I saw that h_e
was wounded. Then I looked down
and saw that my right leg was al
most cut in two. I didn’t feel a
bit of pain, but I began yelling too
just like the other fellow was doing.
I remember the colonel ran in and
looked at me and held me up until
two men came with a stretcher.”
'“Next thing I knew was when I
woke up the following day! I re
membered about my right leg dang
ling as if ready to drop off. I reached
down and found that it was gone.
Then I reached for my left leg. It
was gone too.”
Please remember that McLeod was
not telling this with tragedy in his
voice. There were no sighs, no self
pity. There was merely an air of sat
isfaction—satisfaction at having
done his duty. He did not show the
least indication that he considered
that he had done more.
Tells of Loss of Both Legs
“I called for my nurse,” he con
tinued, “and I remember that I had
a long argument with her before I
sank off to sleep again. I told her
that she had promised they
wouldn’t amputate my leg, and here
they had amputated both of them. I
told her that I thought it was not
fair to be lied to like that. But there
was no heart-breaking realization
that I'was a cripple for life. I was
too full of morphine for that. And
by the time the morphine had worn
off I suppose I had- quit worrying
about the future.”
“And now?”
“Well, I’m going home. I want to
hear ’em speak English like Ameri
cans. I want the kind of food my
mother'knows how to cook. When
they got me pretty well patched up
I’m going to try to find something
else I can do for the government. I
don’t know what it will be, but I’ve
got two good arms, and I know some
thing will turn up. I’m far from be
ing ready for the junk pile.”
And Aubrey McLeod smiled again
—a smile that brought confidence to
the other Americans who had crowd
ed into his compartment during his
recital. For they regarded McLeod
as a typical American soldier, and if
a typical American soldier has this
philosophy of life, what is there to
fear?
McLeod will start for home amply
supplied with everything to make
him comfortable for the long trip.
The government is taking the best of
care of him, and the American Y. M.
C. A. has seen to it that he has books,
candy, and everything else a traveler
could want. The boy attributes his
happy state of mind to the fact that
Americans, particularly Y. M. C. A.
secretaries, have watched out for him
so carefully.
“I’m not nearly so unlucky as I
would have been had I been born a
Frenchman, an Englishman—or a
German,” he com'-tded.
MAIL CENSORSHIP RULES
SHOULD BE PRESERVED
BY SOLDIERS IN CAMPS
It is suggested that every reader
of Trench and Camp who is likely
to be a member of an expeditionary
force save the following reprints of
official correspondence. While both
letters are dated from Hoboken, N.
J., it is fair to assume that the reg
ulations regarding mail and mail cen
sorship have been standardized for
all embarkation ports.
Hqrs. Port of Embarkation,
Hoboken, N. J.
Memorandum: Subject: Instruc
tions reference mail.
Notice to Men Sailing: It is sug
gested that you write postals to your
parents, stating that, you have arrived
safely abroad. These postals you
must put in the mail bag on the ship
before sailing and they will be held
at these headquarters until your ship
has arrived safely abroad and then
mailed. Your safe arrival will,
therefore, be announced to your rela
tives two weeks earlier than you can
advise them by writing from the
other side.
By command of Major General
Shanks:
D. A. WATT, Adjutant General.
Hqrs. Port of Embarkation,
Hoboken, N. 'J.
Memorandum: Subject—Censor
ship of Mail.
To Troops Abroad:
1. A mail bag is placed at the
office of the quartermaster or purser
where all mail must be deposited. All
sealed mail will be held until your
arrival abroad. All unsealed mail
will be censored at once, then sealed
and forwarded to destination.
2. The object of the censorship is
to prevent any information reaching
the enemy, which would endanger
your lives while en route, and there
fore nothing should be said as to
are sailing from, or when,
or whef'e to. Say nothing as to the
boat you are leaving on, whether
transport or commercial liner, nor
whether boats, transports, or war
ships are leaving at the same time.
Remember particularly that postal
cards pass through a number of
hands, and protect your own life by
being careful to give no news to the
enemy.
3. You can write your loved ones
as fully and freely on personal mat
ters as if your mail was sealed. The
censor has to read as many as 1,000
letters a day. He pays no attention
to names or addresses, but simply
runs through a letter to cut out any
prohibited matter as mentioned
above. The letter is then sealed at
once by him and is ready for the post
office.
4. On the way over you will be
able to write and tell about your trip,
but remember again that your mail
must go through the censor over
there, so again avoid trouble by not
mentioning names of boats, organi
zations, convoys, etc., and remember
all the time that the object of the
censorship is to protect your country,
your comrades and yourself.
By command of Brigadier General
Shanks:
T. EDWARD HAMBLETON,
Major, A.G., Asst. Adjutant.
THE QUESTION
Missionary—A little contribution
for the heathen, sir.
Gotrox—How are you going to
get it into Germany?
Page 9
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