"Same old Bill, eh Mable!", Edward Streeter [freda ebook reader .TXT] 📗
- Author: Edward Streeter
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After wed scoured the horses till they must have been sorer than we were they gave us some monkey meat an let us turn in. Back to the hay barns agen. That Bilitin oficer ought to make good on some board of health when we get home. He can pick out all the worst places in a town ten minites after he gets there.
Sleepin in the daytime is a kind of a joke anyway in the army. Every time you get to sleep the horses has to be fed. And when your not feedin them you got to get up an feed yourself. In the army a fellos hungry when they tell him to eat an no other time.
After theyd blown a horn at me about eight different times I figgered I might as well stay up an rite you a letter. Now that were gettin up near the front Im goin to rite just as much as I can. Thats partly sos you wont worry an partly so that if I get knocked off you will have something to amuse you in case you go into a convent.
I had to leave all those sweters an caps an everything that you nitted me last winter. You dont need to feel bad about that tho cause they wouldnt let us wear them anyway. If everybody wore all the stuff thats been nitted for them since the war started this would look more like an ice carnival than an army. Its sentiment that counts, tho, not wool.
In the meantime still
Bill
Dere Mable:
After travelin for three nites we dont seem to be any nearer the front than we ever was. Ether the Fritzes are retreatin in trucks or were goin the wrong way. The only reason were not marchin tonite is because when we got into this town the Captin found a chatto for his P.C. P.C. is military, Mable. It means a place for the Captin. Mike Whozis, the Captins orderly, says hes got one of those limosine beds with a roof an sides on it. Its so big it dont make any difference how you lie on it. If all he says about it is true we may stick around for the rest of the war.
Well, never mind. Sailor Gare as the French say. Thats some old pirate they blame everything on over here.
A bunch of prisoners came in last nite. They must have surrounded half the German army cause it looked like a decorashun day parade when the M.P. brought them in. If they make another hawl like that well have about as much to fire at up at the front as we did back on the range. Id never seen any Fritzes so Angus an I went down to the pen this afternoon to see if they were breakin the child labor law or had any wimmin with machine guns tied to them like you read about.
The pen is just a bunch of barracks not much better than the place where we sleep. They got a lot of barb wire an an M.P. around it. The Fritzes didnt look very wild to me. More like a bunch of stashun porters out of a job. We tried to argu the M.P. into lettin a few of them go at a time sos we could catch them agen but he took the war awful serious.
I got in wrong with the Captin agen today. This army is something like gamblin. Whichever way you decide your bound to lose sooner or later. Youd think that the only reason a fello would give you food was because he expected you to eat it. Thats because you dont know the army. The other day they ishued each fello what they called Irun Rashuns. That means a can of petrified crackers an a can of gold fish. Its not a bad name for the crackers. Your supposed to tote around your Irun Rashuns with you wherever you go. The only thing is that you mustnt eat them.
When they handed them out the Captin said we wasnt ever to eat them unless we absolutely had to. As if anybody in his right mind would. Im all for obeyin orders tho when it dont conflict with my duty. Joe Balderose ate his half an hour after breakfast and then wanted me to split with him on mine. I says "No. Not till I absolutely have to. An then Ill be so far gone that you wont have a look in." I waited till hap past ten tho I was gettin awful weak the last half hour. Youd ought to have heard the Captin when he saw me. Youd have thought I was eatin some of his old harness.
As far as I can see, Mable, its just another of his ways of passin the buck. If General Perishing should happen to find one of us starved to death some mornin he wants to be able to show him we had plenty of food on us when we slipped away. Hes smart all right, that fello.
You cant tell what may happen before I have a chance to rite agen but we wont cross any bridges before we leap as the poets say.
Yours to the last crum
Bill
Dere Mable:
Were on the front at last in what they call a quiet sector. Most of the soldiers round this place is French. I understand there pretty sore at the Americans cause some of them came up here and began shootin up the Germans. Of course you cant have a decent war if nobodies goin to pay any atenshun to the rules.
The worst part of the war is gettin to it. I been rained on so much the last week I feel like an old sponge. Every nite weve been marchin along thru the pitch dark with trucks an guns an everything else that rattles poundin along on each side.
Nobody could strike a light durin the whole trip. Then when we get to this place the Frenchmen that we were goin to relieve came out in the road with lanterns to see who we were. Its a wonder the Captin didnt make us crawl up on our hands an knees.
We finally got the guns in posishun. How we found the place in the dark is more than I can tell. Were in the middle of a ruined village. It looks like those picturs of old Greek office buildins that hangs in the high school hall. Its funny, Mable, but the first real rest Ive had since I got in the army is since Ive got to the front. The only livin thing we see is rats an airyplanes. The archies shoot all day at the planes but it dont seem to bother them much. They just sail along like a limosine with a lot of little dogs tryin to bite off the tires. I guess if they ever hit one the shock would kill the gun crew as quick as it would the pilot.
Our guns is pointed at a hill right in front of us. Every mornin we fire a few shots at this an then spend the rest of the day cleanin the guns. If they used these guns as much as they clean them the war would have been over long ago. Toward evenin the Fritzes return the complement. Everybody comes out to see where they land but they must fire them up in the air cause nobodies ever been able to find out yet. When your not cleanin the gun or on gard you have to stay down in your dugout sos the airyplanes wont see you. Theyve got to be awful quick if they want to get a sight of me. Ive got the deepest dugout except for the Captin. When the Top sargent wants a detail you can bet hes not goin to clime down fifty steps after one Buck private.
Ive found the first real use for my tin derby. The fello that invented these dugouts couldnt seem to decide wether to put in stairs or a ladder so he split the difference. Right across the top of the entrance he put a nice sharp beam. Its fixed so that it gets you in the chin goin down an on the top of the head comin up. Hed have split more than the difference long ago if it hadnt been for that tin derby of mine.
Marv Motel, whats gunner on my piece, is busy all day fixin things up. He says if were goin to be here the rest of our lives we mights well have things homelike. He dug up an old rug an a lace curtin somewhere that the Germans had missed. The rug hes got in the gun pit an the curtin over the trail of the gun to set the barrage shell on. They keep a shell ready all the time in case somebody starts a battle without the usual weeks notice. Marvs got it shined up like a young doctors door plate. Every nite he raps it up an put an old one in its place. Angus says when he gets time hes goin to carve the names of the gun crew on the side sos we can take it back an give it to some museum.
Well, Mable, you might as well take down your service flag. I guess the only action Ill ever see is when I get home an meet Archie Wainwright.
Yours till theres something doin
Bill
Dere Mable:
Well, you can take your service flag out of moth balls agen. An if the Fritzes try any more monkey bisiness like they did this mornin you can buy a can of radiator paint for the star.
Angus an I was standin outside the dugout finishin our mornin goldfish an plannin a few correkshuns for the army when a boiler exploshun happened right behind us. After things had quieted down a bit I looked out from behind a piece of old stone wall where I seemed to be lyin, to see if there was anything left for identificashun. I saw a foot layin outside the dugout. I knew it belonged to Angus cause hes the only man in the army with one like it. I was just goin to pick it up thinkin his family might like it to remember him by when another foot came out. Then the whole of him. Hed crawled under an old pawlin that had been spread out to dry. This war certinly has proved that fish aint a brain food. Outside of bein a little mussed up from a mud pubdle hed found under the pawlin he seemed all right. When I ast him if he was lookin for anything, tho, he got all worked up. The Skotch is awful emoshunal.
While we was standin there wonderin wether somebodied been smokin in bed in the amunishun dug out another boiler blew up right in front of us. At least I think it was in front as near as I could tell from the bottom of the dug out stairs. Angus saved my life that time cause we both happened to go down the stairs together an I went down on top of Angus.
Marv Motel was asleep down in the dug out. He got awful sore an wanted to know how a fello was ever goin to get any rest with a bunch of this an that fools rough housin around all day. Then came two more black hand awtrocities. Angus swears the second one rocked the dug out so his mess kit slid right offen the table. Things quieted down after that so we went out finally to see if we could pick up any soovenirs out of the wreck.
Well, Mable, Id have bet anybodies money
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