Wells High School - Crimson and Gray Yearbook (Southbridge, MA)

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THE CRIMSON AND GRAY of his water and set out. Slower and slower over the shining sands the weary- camel plodded. Towards dawn with a sigh the wornout beast sank to its knees, to rise no more. When the sun had once more sunk be- yond the desert ' s edge the Lone One plodded through the clinging sands. With- out wa ' ter, without food, the old man stag- gered up and down the drifting sands, hampered by the long cloak and clinging, shifting sands. Gathering new strength to climb each diT e v ith the thought that over the top of this one he would find relief. Up and down, on and on he staggered, growing even weaker. Darkness was giving way to the grey light preceding dawn when at last the weary old man reached a dune higher than all others. Surely beyond this there would be aid and his seamed face bright- ened at the thought. Up and up he dragged himself until he reached the top. Beyond lay — not an oasis — a towering dune still higher than that on which he stood. With a groan of despair and disappointment the helpless old man raised his arms to the eastern sky and then — he fell with a cry, sliding, roll- ing to the bottom of the dune. In the little oasis of M all was confusion and content as the inhabitants hastened to make the best of the cool morning hours. A white man, presumably English, emerged from a tent, gazed spec- ulatively about the little village, and slowly sauntered toward the oasis ' edge. Climbing the towering dune which mark- ed the edge of the oasis he purposed to watch the sun rise. Above the desert ' s rim the sun rose in a blaze of color. Its early beams revealed the man standing on the dune above the village, revealed also the body lying at the foot of the sand hill. With an exclamation the Englishman half ran, half slid, down the mound to the recumbent figure. Gently he grasped the body and turned it over. One glance at the aged face and the empty canteen tightly grasped in the stiffened hand told the story. Softly the Englishman rose and with bared head murmured So near to the precious water which you lacked. How in- explicable is the way of the desert. Dorothy M. Lanphear, ' 31 THE FIGHT The rat-tat-tat-a-tat-tat of a machine gun broke upon the still night; an answering machine gun opened farther down the line and then the staccato barks of rifles opened. The noise swelled in volume; a whistling scream from overhead, then a thunderous roar broke out all up and down the line — the cannons had started in — it would be a night of fight. Division 5 — was ordered out to reconnoit- er for a counter-attack. Captain O ' Neil or- dered Sergeant Duffy to take five picked men and go in front as scouts. The sergeant took John Hadjet, Fred Brown, Jack Dil- Tngs, Tom Kingley and George Fleming. John Hadjet, the first man chosen, was taken because of his great bravery. Although admitted that he was brave, nobody liked him because of his conceit and his boasting, for he was always boasting and was so con- ceited that he thought that he was a better man than General Pershing himself. It would not be so bad in his boasting but HE was always the hero; to hear him talk one would th ' nk that he had won all the wars that had ever been fought all by himself. The men went forward on their dangeronw errand. Every now and then a flare would go up and they would drop to the ground as if they had been shot through the heart. All of a sudden they stumbled upon a large machine gun nest, most likely the one that had opened up hostilities that night. There were three machine guns in it with three men to a gun and another man, pre- sumably, an officer, in charge of it all. One man saw Hadjet and with a shout, turned his machine gun on him, another grabbed a rifle. The first hail of bullets got Dillings and Fleming, wounded Sergeant Duffy; then the man with a rifle got King- ley. That was when Hadjet and Brown went to work. Hadjet jerked the safety pin from a hand-grenade and with a curse threw it at

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THE CILMSON AND GRAY only those which are deemed worthy of the paper are put into it; nevertheless, we would like as many contributions as poss- ible in order that we may have a greater choice of the best. M. L. Clemence, ' 30. THE WAY OF THE DESERT In the cool, grey hours of early dawn, a long caravan wound slowly among the desert sand dunes. It belonged to a desert tribe who were searching for new camp- ing grounds. All that night, and for many nights, they had marched on without finding an oasis which fitted their needs. Although their quest had thus far been fruitless, they had been exceedingly fortunate, for they had encountered no warring tribes nor had they been troubled by sand storms. The sky was streaked with red and yel- low, giving promise of a hot, clear day, so the the leader stated. Slowly they con- tinued across the sands now gleaming crimson in the sun ' s early rays. Over the desert ' s rim the sun peeped, a living ball of fire. A hush fell over the Arabs who had halted for their morning prayer. The bronzed and bearded face of the old sheik gleamed in the bright sunshine as with sonorous voice he bade the clan prepare to camp until nightfall. The hush was broken by the babel of many clans- men as they hastened to dismount their beasts. Above the babel of voices rose another sound, wailing, roaring sound which stay- ed them in their places. Along the horizon there extended — to the north and south — a long, low, golden wall, a wall which bore down upon the little tribe and with a wail of wind a blinding shower of sand dashed upon the clan. Too late to erect tents, too late to do anything but strive to keep together and to breathe. The caravan slowly proceeded to get under way as the voice of the sheik rose above the soughing of the wind. The sun was obscured, yet the heat was sterrific. The tiny bits of dust clung to the cloaks of the clansmen, blinded them, stifled them in spite of cloaks under which they huddled. The swirling sand made it more and more difficult for the camels. Slower and slower the beasts wended their way and at last they sank to their knees, unable to further battle with the ever blowing sands. The sand continued t-to drift about the motionless figures. Im- possible to exist much longer the old sheik thought, when with a parting blast and wail the desert storm passed and the sun shone once more on the partly hidden figures. As the atmosphere cleared the old sheik — tried to rise. Having succeeded in shaking off the sand, which partly cover- ed him, he turned to aid his clan. Soon all was confusion as tents were set up and food prepared. All was well now and they could rejoice that all were present once more after the fearful storm. No, not all were present, the stranger who had joined several days ago, the stranger who because of his strange plight they had named the ' ' Lone One, had disappeared. Beyond the dunes in the wake of the tribe a lone camel and rider plodded thru the golden sand. The rider dozed in the saddle as the beast swayed to and fro. Above the sun rose higher and hotter in the sky. The tired camel sank to its knees in the shadow of a dune, but the rider slept on. The sun had set when the Lone One, awoke, for it was he, and gazed about him. He roused the camel, drank some of his precious supply of water, and set out to E ' .earch for the clan from which he had be- come separated in the sorm. Alone in the relentless desert with only a tiny canteen of water and with a weary, thirsty camel for a companion. The Lone One pondered on his plight. Guided by the stars and the Arab instinct for direc- tion he set out in the probable direction of the tribe and the oasis to which they were bound. All night he traveled and when dawn came without success he crouched by his weary camel and slept. With the coming of another night he drank the remainder

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10 THE CRIMSON AND GRAY the Huns, then he and Brown charged them. The grenade had disabled two guns and killed three soldiers but the remaining ma- chine gun killed Brown instantly and Hadjet felt a hot, searing pain in his arm and another in his shoulder. He shot a man with his rifle and stabbed another with his bayonet and then came to grips with a huge man. He struck wildly out with his closed fist, and he felt a solid thud which told him he had connected somewhere on the big man, then jerking his revolver fi-om his belt, he fired at two Huns and killed them. He felt a pain in his back and turning, hit a man with the barrel of his gun, breaking his jaw. He fired at a man and clowned him. The remaining men crying, Kamerad Kamerad! and thinking that the devil in- carnate was after them, threw down their arms. Hadjet forcing them ahead of him made them carry Sergeant Duffy back to the trenches. Imagine the surprise of Captain O ' Neil, who had given them up for dead, when he saw Hadjet with five Germans in front of him and the Germans carrying Sergeant Duffy. He ordered some soldiers to take the pri- soners away and then said, Private Had- jet, you have , but just then Hadjet dropped to the ground and the Captain cried, Why, he is hurt ! Take him to the hospital quickly! A man picked up Had jet ' s gun which had fallen to the ground and was looking at it, when of a sudden he cried, This gun is empty. Hadjet had marched his prisoners back at the point of an EMPTY gun. When Hadjet had recovered from his ill- ness, he learned that he had been wounded in seven places some of them being serious ones, and he also leai ' ned that the men who would have shouted with joy if he had been killed before, had been coming to the hospi- tal every day and inquiring how he was while one man had threatened to shoot the surgeon if Hadjet died and in so doing had expressed the opinion of the whole regiment. One day the surgeon said that he had a visitor and General Pershing came in. He f-poke a few words of praise and then pinned the War Cross on his chest and left. The day he left the hospital to join the regiment he was agreeably surprised. He walked out of the door and there in front of him was the whole regiment and they burst out cheering when they saw him, but they could not get him to make a speech or talk about his brave act. SIR NOLBODY HOLMES While I was visiting Sir Roger at his es- tate he introduced me to a most unusual character. This man was a country squire like Sir Roger but was very eccentric. He in- vited us to visit him in the next county on the next day. That night I asked Sir Roger about this man whom I saw was a most un- usual make, because among the many troubles the poor man had, he was cross- eyed, bow-legged and spoke in a high pitched voice that showed he had been an excitable character. Sir Roger said Sir Nolbody Holmes was supposed by most of the country folks to be a half-wit and they all made fun of him behind his back. He said that the towns-people near Sir Nolbody ' s estate taught their dogs to jump between their legs until the dogs got so that whenever anyone fixed their legs so that the dogs could jump through, they did so without being told. This, said Sir Roger, was very disconcerting to Sir Nolbody, who could not help but have his legs in such a position and whenever he went to town he always had the dogs jumping through his legs, which he did not in the least favor. When we arrived at his estate the next day, I at once noticed the thoroughness with which everything was done. The gardens were among the finest that I ever saw, the stables were clean and the horses were all thoroughbreds. I at once saw that Sir Nol- body Holmes was not a half-wit, but was, as are many men, very eccentric. As time passed on, I began to appreciate more and more his struggle with nature against the handicap with which he had Been born. On the way back to Sir Roger ' s that night, after a very enjoyable day, I thought to my- self, as Sir Roger prattled meaninglessly,