Bourne High School - Canal Currents Yearbook (Bourne, MA)

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CANAL CURRENTS. 15 A ROOKIE IN THE WORLD WAR It was the night before the grand drive of the Germans and Dick Jackson was trying hard to get some sleep. He had just finished a letter to the girl that he was going to marry and also one to his folks. His closest friend, George Chase, had also written to his folks and he and Dick had exchanged letters, hoping that one would live through the battle that was to take place at dawn. The one that did live would be able to send the messages. Dick’s companions were grouped around in the small muddy dug-outs, — some playing cards, some talking in low tones and most all were smoking to calm their nerves. Others were trying to get some sleep as was Dick; but this was almost impossible. Everyone was wondering if he would ever live to get back to the good old U. S. A. Because of the enemy trenches being so close, loud talk- ing was forbidden and matches could not be used unless they were lit under cover. This was carried out because of the possibility of giving away the location of the troops in the trenches. Occasionally flares and rockets would light up the sky to expose scouting parties from both sides. The calm which often comes before a storm existed. At last Dick dozed off and awoke to hear the first of the German artillery get- ting into action. Wheeeeee - - craaaaaash! Wheeeeee - - currrrump! The shells were coming thicker and faster. Most of the men were awake by now and were getting ready for what was to come. The shelling always came first to clear a way for the infantry. Some shells were filled with gas and along the line came the command to put on gas masks. It was now 5:20. Cartridges were put in place for quick fir- ing, bayonets were fixed, and here and there could be seen men preparing their hand grenades for a quick toss. These round missiles played an important part in breaking up an attack of the enemy. They were small bombs filled with powder and pieces of iron and other scraps, so that when they went off the pieces would fly in all directions. Most of the shells landed before or behind the trenches, so few men were hurt. Suddenly all was still; the shelling had stopped and it was 5:30.

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14 CANAL CURRENTS SNOW “Charlie, you might, instead of reading a magazine, go out and shovel the sidewalk before the melting snov freezes and makes the walk icy!” “I suppose I might; but this is a good story — ” “Just suppose I said that every time you — 1” “All right. All right. Don’t get so excited. I suppose it will do me some good to get out!” The man of the house put on an old felt hat, a heavy coat, and a pair of gloves in preparation for the job ahead. Then the silence was broken. “Charlie, how about rubbers?” “It would be much easier to stay in and read my maga- zine,” was the answer. “Go ahead, and get a cold, but don’t ask me to give you some drops, or something to rub on your throat — except soap!” An hour later there was stamping and puffing in the back hall, and then the man enters with visions of reading in peace. Fifteen minutes of peace ensued. Again the silence was broken by a sound beginning low and ending in high C. “Charlie!” “What is wrong, now?” “Now? Why you didn’t finish the first job!” “What do you mean?” “Take a good look at that sidewalk, and tell me whether or not anyone could walk there or the car come into the driveway.” He dropped his magazine, and with a groan arose to look out the window. “Oh! that darn snow-plow has been by!” The door closed wth a bang and again the walk was shoveled, with much less vigor. Well, it was all cleared now, and with the exception of his back, he felt fine. “I’m going to read my magazine, now, even if all the snow from the North Pole slides over that sidewalk!” Again, he settled himself comfortably and took up his magazine. Hns eyes focussed on the spot where he had left off reading. — “The beautiful snow glistened — ”! Wham! he book slammed on the floor. “I’m going to bed!” Robert Poland, ’36.

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16 CANAL CURRENTS “Here they come,” was the cry along the line; and as Dick looked over the rampart he saw gray blurry figures mov- ing slowly toward him. Machine guns opened up and, com- bined with the rifle fire, the noise was deafening. As Dick worked his rifile bolt he fumbled and dropped cartridges. He was so nervous his first few shots had no ef- fect on the gray mass. But now he became calmer and care- fully took aim at a gray object and fired. It stumbled and fell. Then another and another — until his rifle barrel was too hot to hold in his hands. Now the Germans were at the trench edge and as Dick rushed to meet a giant form he saw that George was at his side. No time for shooting now — the German was upon him. Before the gray figure could swing his well-aimed bayonet at Dick’s head, Dick thrust aside the enemy’s rifle and lunged at his opponent’s stomach with all his strength. But this had to be done again, for another man filled the place of his companion and was about to run George through when Dick swung his bayoneted rifle. The enemy fell without a cry. Upon looking around a bayonet point came sliding through the space between Dick’s arm and body and the impact of the blow sent him over backwards. This time the German tried to make up for the last miss by a well directed stab to Dick’s throat. This time George went to the rescue and when the blade was half-way upon its victim he fired. He was too late, for as the man fell dead his bayonet pierced Dick’s shoulder, and a bayonet found its way into George’s back from behind. But aid had come from the second line trenches and with a yell the reenforcements bore down on the Germans. With this help, the enemy was driven back and the wounded were taken care of. George and Dick awoke from unconsciousness in a hos- pital to find that the war was over. With a feeble yet happy exclamation, they both whispered, “Hurrah!” C. Grant Ellis, ’37.