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Page 18 text:
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T H E W I T A N wore a lively lot of chaps and 1 had a time holding thein quiet and ready. A long wait besides, not like what wc were used to. 1 managed to keep pretty close attention on a little hill to our right, however. It was from here that ilag and whistle signals were go- ing to be given to our clean-up wave. “About thirty minutes before the time to rise and shine, the concen- trated heavy batteries opened up sud- denly from the woods and hills we'd left the night before. We couldn’t see any Hashes from them but we settled down under the parapet, looked down a gap where a communi- cation trench entered, and watched the clouds, blast them, reflect the inter- mittent glow. The men didn't even bother to watch the effect on the enemy lines, it was an old story to them. More interesting to talk about Sijuee Jee’s accident! With about five minutes to go, however, the field bat- teries started the old faithful barrage from a ravine directly back of us and from a hill on the left Hank. The enemy weren't having beer and pretzels either, and were certainly helping to make the graying dawm all fired noisy. Men down the trench a way got a bad one and a whole squad went out of commission. My men were rather pale and tight lipped, waiting grimly, when suddenly “A shrill whistle piped and a red and white diagonal broke out from about half-way up the back side of the hill I’d been watching. 1 turned in time to see the first line advance leap out on its way. This was some- thing like. The crashing confusion of deafening explosions arose from all sides, broken only by the chattering of the Vickers and the rolling rifle fire. A thick haze of smoke and dust drifted skyward as the sun finally broke over the horizon. It had begun. “A second flag was displayed and special code semaphore gave my com- pany the job of backing a rush on an enemy nest about a quarter of a mile straight forward. Orders were checked, 0. K.’d, and we went over. The squads separated and deployed in skirmish order while we made it on the double. I had been noticing the trouble we were having with this certain nest on the top of a little knoll ahead and urns wishing for some tank support, but there wasn't any. So, I ordered a Hanking movement which was rather easy with very little stray resist- ance on either side. Bombing didn’t have a very marked effect and even when completely surrounded, the blame knoll was a good position, and those two machine guns they had there were letting us know about it. There wasn't much cover and we'd already lost about a third. A runner reported a ravine on the far side how- ever, so I crawled around there and organized a squad of fellows on whom I could depend. We armed wnth as many grenades as we could carry safely, and started up. “The cover was pretty good until the last twenty or thirty yards from the top were reached. This was ab- solutely bare except for the wire, which was bad. We cleared quite a stretch with the grenades, then at an agreed signal, all of us spread out and charged right in the face of one of the machine guns. One of my men dropped dead at the very start of the race and another, a big burly Marine weighing at least two himdr d pounds, fell wounded right in front of me. Of course it meant that I had to carry him back. Imagine me carrying a two hundred pounder! Well, he turned his face up at me and had the nerve to grin. Boy, I was mad! As I knelt to pick him up, I could feel the blame pellets just grazing my hel- met; then they stopped and I knew that my squad, or what was left of it, had won thru. All I could think of tho was why I had to carry this lummox. The lucky dog! Why couldn’t they have picked me out for a target instead of him. He might be bigger but I was an officer. Thus I last carried a man out. “Anyway, it all happened during one of the annual military maneuvers near London, England, and we got a big write-up in the paper.” (Pass the cheese!) G. Lyroat, ’28. 14
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Page 17 text:
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T H E W I T A N JUST IN BETWEEN (Continued from the Spring number) “It was a cry such as one would utter with a hot potato in one’s mouth—very indistinct, but clearly a sign of distress. I hurried forward as quickly as I could with practically no light and greatly hampered by the treacherous footing. The driver of the battery had ceased his ready flow of invective and apparently halted the difficult progress. There was a great running about and confusion of per- plexed calls. All this my ears told me as I hurried to bring my eyes within range. A short flash from a lighted match gave me my bearings and helped me momentarily. It was followed by an even deeper, more oppressive dark- ness than before but this didn’t last long, as the gunners managed to get a lantern going. In the pale yellow light a strange sight was revealed. “The two teams of the battery stood in half shadow steaming and dripping with sweat, sides blowing, and mouths wide with heavy breath- ing. The gun was tipped high in the air, muzzle up, with its trail on the edge of the path, while the limber was half in the ditch where one wheel had slid. Bad stuff, that mud, especially in the dark. Well, anyway, the gun squad was huddled around the off wheel of the limber and it was from somewhere among them that these muffled cries seemed to come. I hollered for the looey in charge, meanwhile managing to get some of the stupid fools out of the way. The looey stepped up as I stared at a vague heap in the ditch, and reported that they’d had no light, the limber'd lost the path, slipped into the ditch, and here was the result. “I should say it was! The squad was so fagged that 1 had to tell thpm twice before they lifted the off side of the limber while I and the looey dragged that heap on to its feet. Yes, it had feet, darn clumsy ones too! I held the lantern up and looked into the face of one of the dumbest fools 1 knew, Gifford. His uniform was all wet and mud covered and his helmet was all drawn and pinched on the top. It looked just as tho he’d put a French helmet on sideways. The limber’d ev- idently slipped down off the path and the wheel had landed right square on the tup of his helmet. He, drunk and tired, had probably fallen into the ditch on the way down after mess, and gone to sleep. And I reckon it’s no joke to wake up suddenly with your war hat all pinched up on top of your head, your chin strap so tight you can’t speak, and held down by a blame gun limber. No wonder he tried to holler! Well, we cut his hel- met off and sent him up to the doctor for general overhaul. The fellow we sent with him said he never saw a man so scared before. At any rate, the camp got a big laugh and Gifford a nickname—‘Squee Jee’. (Pass the pickles!) “Well, tempus fidgets, and it wasn’t long before camps were coming down and most of the regiment on the road. We were moving in. “Nothing much of importance hap- pened on the way. The men were kidding each other about what was going to happen in the morning and about looking pretty because there’d be a big crowd out watching. Some of the light infantry passed thru; they were coming from farther back and stepping right along. Only men about fivp feet, six inches can join this branch because they have a regula- tion pace of thirty-six inches. That’s a mighty hard job for a big fellow, especially at better than five miles an hour for a whole day’s march. Try it sometime! “We made it into the trenches with about an hour to spare. Kight on schedule with communication set and support organized sometime before, but extending a long distance back! I usually went over with the second wave in a big attack like this, sort of a clean-up gang, and so was detailed in charge of a four squad company of marines in the second line. They 13
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Page 19 text:
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T Ii E WIT A N A REVIEW 1 am a librarian. Each day I see before me manjr people, and each a type. These people’s characters are mirrored by their words and actions. I believe it would be an interesting, yes a very interesting experiment to line these people up and to guess their character, then allow them to go un- molested to say the library, and watch them. What a revelation there would be! For example: A woman drives up to the curb be- fore the library in a long sleek car, gathers an armful of books and mag- azines, and comes to the door. To see her there one would think she was a very nice lady, polite in all her actions and gracious in manner. But, wait, this very lady enters, and strews her armful of books over the desk and hurries on into the library. I scratch my head (figuratively) and wonder what her name is, and if I am lucky I remember it, if not, 1 slip all the books and look up the names by the numbers on the book slip. Then I search through the files and probably find no cards. Then I make out a special slip, compute the fines on the magazines (which are two days overdue). After all this, I tell the fair lady that she can’t take books without her card. She comes to the desk and asks if her sister-in-law’s card is in. I ask the name and look for the card; and nine chances to ten, it isn't in. I, then, tactfully mention the fines, and seeing a questioning look clouding her face, I hasten to explain that the books were due Mon- day and here it is Wednesday with two cents per day for two days makes four cents due on each maga- zine of which there are nine, making in all a fine of thirty-six cents. She remonstrates, and informs me that I should tell her when she has seven-day books. I reply that all periodicals may be taken for only seven days, and take the money which she reluctantly offers me. Again I tell her that she is unable to draw the books she wishes without her card, and upon receiving her change she pouts out. I heave a sigh and mentally sum her up as a slave driver and a nickel nurser. People like this make nice statues. Irving G. Hanford. STUBBY One night about two years ago my father told me he had a present for me in his overcoat pocket. 1 put my hand in the pocket and pulled out a funny ball of a kitten. It was totally black. It was the cutest thing, all the girls said so. One day curiosity got the better of him and he put his tail in a trap and lost it. That is why we called him Stubby. He was always into something. One day we found him with his head in a bottle of jam. He was a likeable little thing and only had one enemy. This was the dog next door. I have always heard that cats have nine lives, but I don’t believe Stubby had that many. One day the dog chased him up the electric light pole. Somehow he got in the wires and was quite shocked. Poor Stubby found this a killing experience. B. Kirby. 15
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