Wakefield High School - Oracle Yearbook (Wakefield, MA)

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VICTORY DAY From Class Room — Over the Top- And Back Again Over the trenches black with mud, Over the barb-wired fieldss aflood, Over the battlements broken and torn, Showed the first white streaks of Victory Morn. Into the darkness of No Man ' s Land, Down to the farthest outposts stand, A cautiously whispered word was sent The message of Peace and all it meant. Peace! while the German guns breathed fire! Peace! standing two feet deep in mire! Peace! the men silently shook their heads — The only peace there was among the dead. But somewhere a gleam of hope flamed up — And somewhere a Yankee cheer went up — And somewhere the guns began to cease — And the word went round, it was really peace. Back o ' er the ocean, miles away — Where the old New England cities lay Wrapped in the darkness and silence of night, A wireless message winged its flight. Into the darkness a whistle blew Louder and louder the shrieking grew, Bells, horns, trumpet and blast Rang out in succession quick and fast. Up in the darkness before the dawn Up in the silence before the morn A nation awoke — exuberant, gay! And rejoiced in the message of Victory Day. But back in the trenches black with mud Under the barb-wired fields aflood, Remember the boys who have paid the price And bought this peace with their sacrifice. And never let us be satisfied, But live for the ideal for which they died. That Victory Day in years to come — May be their work, and yours, and mine, well done! — Ida M. Low, 19. While a student in the Wakefield High School, I answered the call of our Presi- dent for troops with Company A , 6th Massachusetts Infantry on March 27, 1917. My first four months were spent at Fort Revere, Hull, Mass., doing g-uard duty and while here I was promoted to a sergeant. About the middle of July our regiment was mobilized at Framingham, Mass., only to be broken up in August. Fifty, including myself, were transferred to Company A , 104th Infantry then stationed at Westfield, Mass. Here we had the usual camp routine until October 1, 1917 when we received or- ders to prepare for oversea ' s duty. On October 4th, 1917, we left Westfield for Montreal, Canada, where we boarded boat, and after a beautiful ride down the St. Lawrence River anchored inside of Hali- fax Harbor. We stayed here a week await- ing ships from New York to complete our convoy, and in two more weeks we were in Liverpool, England. An all day ride south brought us to Southampton from where, three days later, we boarded ship once more for a fast trip across the English Channel arriving at Havre, France. In France Here we received our first introduction to the soldiers ' Pullman — freight cars — and the little town of Sartes that was to be our home for three months. This beautiful village was situated in the foot-hills of the Alps; and here we under- went a strenuous training period with a veteran French regiment. It was while here that I visited the birthplace of Joan of Arc some twelve miles away. On February 1, 1918 we completed our training and made preparations for our first trip to the front line. We had all been looking forward to it, were well trained, and were glad that at last we were going to face the Huns. On February 5, 1918, our regiment (104th) went int o the front in the Chemin- des-Dames, my company in reserve; on the 16th we took the front. This very evening we received our baptism of fire when the Germans laid down a barrage on our front line and came over on the company on our left. Our boys stood the test and the Ger- mans received a severe beating. The next night I was granted the privilege of going out on my first patrol with Lieut. Robart. Our mission was to inspect the barb-wire-

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HART ' S HILL AT SUNSET THE MUSIC OF THE SKY Up in the tower upon the hill I sat above the town, In the sunset ' s glow and the twilight ' s hush As the winds stirred the pines and then with a rush Swept over the shimmering lake. Around and afar spread the dark evergreens And the lighter shades of the elm and the oak And the whisper of trees with their var- ious greens Rolled down to the valleys and rose with hills. Curving and winding its snake-like trail The railroad ran to the north, — And a light flashed up — as down the track came the night express That swept along past the lake and was lost in the woods. Then silence followed, and off to the south The lights of Boston twinkled and danced And a bluish column of smoke rose high And faded again in the hues of the sky. Another glance at the lake below, — With its two little islands, silent, still, — With the green on the shcfl-e and the rose in the sky, And again to the north, like a silver mirror. Another lake flashed in the cool twilight Then to the east there were hills and hills All green crowned and cool and dark; And the town itself from where I stood Seemed quiet too, and here and there A light flashed up or died down. Breathless, silent, wonderful, was evening above the town. The sunset, the trees, the lakes, and the breeze And who was there? — Only Nature and I. An auto horn shrieked — then ' twas quiet again, Then a sleepy bird cooed from its nest. The sunset died, and cool night came — And over the town a silence reigned And the stars looked down and the bright moon rose And I watched from the tower on the hill. —I. M. L. ' 19. The stars of heav ' n the choir make. The moon their leader is; In the calm of night When all is still The chorus they begin; They lift the burden from earth ' s arm And by their melodies Keep earth in sleep. — Geeta Palmer ' 22. A SOLILOQUY I ' ve missed a lot of things this year Because of this old flu, Parties, meets, and things like that That any girl you ever knew Would like to see. At first I couldn ' t go about For fear folks with it would be out But then the tables turned, And, to my great surprise I learned I had the flu. But when this horrid thing is done And influenza ' s had its run, I ' m going to have a poster made In colors bright that will not fade And framed and put up on the wall Right in the face and eyes of all: — Beware the Flu! — Ruth Woodbury, ' 20. In an effort to arouse the spirit of poetry, and to locate any possible talent in that line, Miss Elizabeth F. Ingram offered a prize to the winner of the best poem sub- mitted in a contest open to the three up- per classes. There were many verses submitted, which showed an unexpected interest in writing of this sort. The final decisions were made by Mr. Charles H. Howe, then principal. Miss Emily Boody, ' 20, won first prize and honorable mention was given Miss Ida Low, ' 19. Both poems may be found in the Poets ' Corner. They are To the Colors, and Victory Day.

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entang ' kments about seventy yards in front of our trench. A little after dusk we junnped up over our parapet, and what a wonderful sensation came over me, as I started on my first sti ' oll in No Man ' s Land ! It soon wore away, however and finding the wire 0. K. we returned after being out three quarters of an hour. We remained in this sector until April 1, 1918, when we once more boarded our Pullman and a two-day rid e found us in the Toul Sector. Here again our mission was to hold the line and although the Boche tried re- peatedly to smash holes in it, we downed them for a loss each time. A great deal of patrolling was done in this sector and together with air raids, local raids, gas at- tacks, food difficulties, trench fever, cooties, and mud, we found each and every day full of excitement. It was for work in this sec- tor that our regimental colors were deco- rated by the French Government, and we were rushed to the Marne to take part in the large counter-attacks at Chateau Thier- ry. My company, relieved the 6th Marines in Bellau Woods on the night of July 4th, 1918 and we spent our hardest eight day hitch here. Just outside the wood our first dead were buried, twelve boys from my company, and some one hundred and fif- ty more were wounded. On July 26, 1918, I received orders to pro- ceed to Army Candidates School from where, two months later, I graduated a 2nd Lieutenant in the United States Army. I was ordered to join Company A , 126th Infantry, then at Verdun, and reported two days later. On the evening of October 8, 1918, orders came up for attack by my regi- ment at eight o ' clock next morning. My Last Day On The Battlefield We launched the attack promptly at eight o ' clock and fought the Germans back un- til twelve, capturing hundreds of prisoners. They had fallen back on a well fortified po- sition and it looked as though they were intent to hold there. About two hundred and fifty yards separated the lines and my company was laying low in shell holes, awaiting order from Lieut. Millen, the com- pany commander. We were being shelled severely and Lieut. Millen was seriously wounded. He was carried back to the dress- ing station, leaving me in command of the company. Conferring with the Lieut, in command of the company on my right, we made plans for a frontal attack. At four o ' clock I shot up two green flares, our signal for ad- vance and started over with the first wave. We were forced through a heavy barrage besides facing the terrific machine gun fire from their line. The boys were cool and because of their faith in one another, never wavered. I got within fifty yards of two machine gun nests and could see four Boche with each gun. Six of us rushed the guns, our one thought to get the Hun before he got any more of our boys who were now dropping all along the line. I felt a burning streak in my left hand and knew I was wounded, but things were too excit- ing to bother about that then. I started my sprint on the last lap but the start was all I ever got for hardly had I taken five strides when I was wounded quite severely through the left hip, leaving me lying on the field. Four of the six boys captured both guns and speedily avenged the death of the fifth lad and the wounds of the sixth (myself). My company took the line and captured a great many prisoners. By this time I bandaged myself up and aided by two slightly wounded lads start- ed on a five-mile hike back to the dress- ing station. It was just thirty-eight hours from the time I was wounded until I was operated on and the bullet, which had be- come lodged in my back, removed. I was forced to remain in bed, but after a month I started walking about with the aid of a cane. On Friday, December 13, 1918, I left the hospital, although still convalescing, on the first stage of my journey back to the Best Town. Christmas Day I boarded boat at Bordeaux and twelve days later set foot on American soil once more at Newport News, Virginia after being away fifteen months. From here I proceeded to Camp Devens, Mass., from where I was discharged January 18, 1919. While I was convalescing my mind so of- ten turned to my High School days and my class, and how I wished I might get back with them! Considering the matter, and chancing to my usual luck I figured if I could get back to the United States in Jan- uary, 1919, I might complete my course with them, and was fortunate enough to return at that time. Through the kind- ness of the School Committee I am once more a 1919 student; and thanks to the High School faculty for their M-illingness to aid me in my studies, I shall graduate with my class in June. From the time I answered the Call, 10