I__
ALONG THE FIGHTING FRONT
FROM SOISSONS TO THE MARNI
(The following stories of the batth
front in France are taken from th<
Stars and Stripes, the official publi
cation of the American Expeditionary
Forces. The paper is written am
printed by soldiers for soldiers and was
Sent to us by our son, Julius. Th(
stories will .prove interesting reading
—Editor.)
In its first drive an American pla
toon, after advancing (several kilo
meters, came into possession of a
building which had been a Germar
regimental headquarters. Persona1
effects scattered about, a half cookec
meal, maps and documents on tables
and in lacks told of the precipitate
departure of the commander and his
staff.
In the room which nad been the
office of the commandant was a dead
dog. Attached to his collar was a
metal tube. In the tube was a mes
sage calling far assistance from a
German machine gun nest which, at
the time of reading, had long since
fallen into American hands.
The dog, trained as a message bear
er, had been dispatched with the call
for help, had been struck by a shell
fragment, as was evidenced by a
wound in his side, and had struggled
on to the headquarters, only to find
it abandoned. He will be remembered
and respected by the American platoon
as one servant of the Kaiser who
nobly did his duty and died.
A private of the buck species was
watching a plane duel in the skies.
“Quite a sight,” Said a voice beside
hini, and his head nearly dropped off
when he saw that it belonged to the
general commanding the division.
There is a story in that same divis
ion, about the same general, which de
scribes how he was seen one day re
cently walking along and chatting
with a top sergeant. This shows that
a use has at last been found for top
sergeants.
That division did its share, and paid
its price for the doing, when it helped
to drive the Hun back across the
Marne.. That night someone softly
opened the general’s door, and then
as softly closed it. And the word
went around that he sat with his face
buried in his hands, and his frame
quivering with sobs.
A long line of German prisoners,
four abreast, in which were some Ger
/mans who admitted riding frontward
not many weeks ago in trains bearing
the placard, “Nach Paris,” marched
southward along a dusty French road
in charge of a detachment of Ameri
cans from the unit which had captured
them. The population of each suc
ceeding village turned out to see the
procession, watching it for the most
part in silence, but always with a
smile for the American guards.
There was one diminutive French
soldier who stood exuberently at a
corner where the line turned.
“Tout droit a Paris,” he exclaimed,
“troit droit”—which is the French
road ridection for straight ahead.
But the Germans couldn’t see the
joke.
Burly, dirty, whiskered, all in, but
enthusiastic, a sergeant recounted the
^vxploits of his platoon to his colonel.
His was a tale of the Boche infantry
met and beaten, of machine gun nests
cleaned up at the point of the bayonot,
of Germans killed and Germans cap
tured.
“Makes a fellow feel prety good,
doesn’t it?” observed the colonel.
“Yes, and it makes a fellow feel
pretty good that he’s on this side, too,
sir,” said the sergeant.
An M. P. was standing in the door
way of the hotel ville. It had been
a quiet day, as days go a little way
behind the lines. And just then the
quietness came to an abrupt end, for
a shell landed outside the hotel de ville
and the force of it knocked the M. P.
down.
The M. P. got up and sniffed. He
smelled gas
l jni rr*T gas alarm was the bell in the
vjllage church. The M. P. ran to the
church. While he was running an
other shell landed close enough to send
him sprawling again.
Once more he got up, and this time
made the church without any further
Charlie Chaplin incidents, and he be
gan to ring the bell like all getout.
He hadn’t been ringing it long before
a shell hit the belfry, put the bell out
of business and blew the M. P. all the
way back to the alter.
He got up, ran out of the church,
stumbled on a man who had beer
stunned and took him into a dugout.
I .It was all in the day’s work. And
^ prove how very workaday it all was
/he M. P’s name happens to have beer
/Smith—Private Smith.
All kinds of things happen to hel
f! mets, and almost as many kinds ol
things happen to canteens. A calvary
man who was relaying mesages had i
j piece of shrapnel relayed to him thai
flattened his canteen like a pancake
I *■ He was wearing his canteen on hi:
hip at the time, so he didn’t mind th<
water's running down all over his
I pants.
“And then I ran into some gas,” he
! said. “We got through it all right,
1 both of us. Of course it didn’t bother
the horse, because he’s got more room
for it in his lungs.”
Easy come, easy go.
One of the German regiments oppo
site the Americans, the members of
which are, by this time, probably list
ed as “missing, believed prisoner,”
had just been paid when the curtain
went down on their activity in la
guerre.
Exactly 48 hours after the Germans
marched before their paymaster and
got their pay, they marched before
an American officer, who relieved
them of the modest collection of marks
pfennings, ahd other things they had
received.
American regulations for the hand
ling of prisoners provide that all
money shall be taken from them and
placed in a fund which is devoted to
the comon needs of prisoners.
Rules specify that no P. G. shall
be deprived of his personal effects—
Iron Croses and the like—but almost
any captured German is willing to
sacrifice anything he has for real to
bacco.
When one Boche arrived before the
examining officer and was told to
empty his pockets, he laid out five
partly filled sacks of American mak
in’s and not much else. For it he had
traded off an Iron Cross, his helmet,
a trench knife, and all the buttons
he could spare.
A certain American private wasn’t
satisfied, however, with any modest
vest pocket souvenirs of the battle.
Nothing would do for him, he explain
ed, but a German machine gun.
After his unit was relieved he went
to a salvage pile, selected a weapon
in good order, and carried it, in ad
dition to his full pack and rifle, all the
long, weary kilometers back to repos.
It was not until after he had ar
rived that he discovered it was a
French and not a German gun he had
seized. We won’t repeat his remarks
when he made the discovery.
The composition of the perfect M.
P. is as follows: Suspicion, 90 per
cent; more suspicion, 10 per cent;
total, 100 per cent and then some.
All men, acording to the M. P. at the
front, are created equally suspicious
characters. Rank, or the lack of it,
mean absolutely nothing.
If you have any doubts, you can
ask a certain French lieutenant col
onel who is attached to & Certain
American division. He was going
along a road toward the front when
an M. P. stopped him. Most people do
get stopped.
The colonel tried to explain, but the
M. P. simply couldn’t see him, and the
colonel was at the end of his wits and
his language. As a last resort he sent
for his orderly, who hapened to be a
little Irishman of the combative var
iety common to the A. E. F.
The little Irishman came flying over
the roads, via motor, and cleared his
superior in short order. But if it
hadn’t been for the little Irishman,
there is no telling where the French
colonel would be now.
All of which goes to prove that no
officer is a hero to his dcg-rober.
A calvaryman who was doing Faul
Revere work between a headquarters
and the line tied his horse to a tree
and proceeded on foot to his desti
nation, where things were rather hot.
While he was gone things began to
grow rather hot around that tree, too.
He has pretty good evidnee that they
did, anyway. For when he returned
there was a gaping hole in the earth
where the horse had stood. A bit of
rope was dangling from the tree.
Be he a private or a general, “writ
ing home” usually occupies the first
leisure minutes of a soldier just out
of action.
Parked near the headquarters of a
unit back from the lines was an im
pressive limousine, and in it sat a
major general, pounding the keys of
a small portable typewriter held on his
lap. He had sought the privacy of his
automobile to write home.
The Q. M. Corps has fallen down on
the job. It is rather tough to have to
admit this, but it is proved by the
fact that the mahogany Louis Quat
orze writing desks ordered for indi
vidual soldiers with brass studded
legs—the desks of course—have never
shown up.
So everybody uses the next best
thing—a 20-gallon gasoline can, pre
ferably empty. It sometimes rolls
off your knees when you are trying to
write on it, but otherwise it’s O. K.
When he reached the gas hospital
he was in a state of extraordinarily
good humor.
“What are you so happy about?”
they asked him.
“That’s easy,” he replied between
smiles. “I’m going to get some clean
, underwear.”
How much stuff does a Yank take
; into the line? It all depends on the
: Yank.
In one squad you will see a mar
carrying a full pack, including extra
shoes and overcoat, and wearing a
whole string of corned Willie cans
much as a Fiji Islander wears a loin
cloth. Another man in the same
squad will go up minus his blouse, and
carrying only a blanket, gas mask and
helmet.
GALLEY 5/
Nothing makes an American soldier
prouder of his organization than be
ing in action with it. Any man up
front will tell you that his platoon is
the best in the company, that his com
pany is the best in the regiment, and
his regiment the best in the Army—
that the artillery of his division is
infallible and the officers are unbeat
able. The colonel always comes in
for praise.
“Our eolonel,” said one doughboy,
may be stout and and not much for
height, but you ought to soldier under
him. He’s a regular (fellow. Why
he’s the kind of a guy that if he was
in the ranks would make a good
private!”
Which is about the highest tribute
a private can pay his colonel.
A French officer stood on a hilltop
south of the Marne and trained his
glasses on the field where Yank and
Boche were having it out
As he looked he smiled. For
through the smoke he could see
doubled Yankee fists finding their
target on the tips of Hun noses and
the points of Hun jaws.
He belonged to that five per cent
slice of the army that doesn’t smoke.
(Continued on page six)
1HOO - A ere Coinbintul
Stock and Grain Ranch
At Auction.
Tuesday, September 17, 1918
At 2 o’clock P. M. on the Premises
The land is located in Sections 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, and 10,
township 32, range 12, Holt county, 3 miles south
and 4 miles west of Whiting bridge.
Bids will be received in parcels and in whole.
Good terms. Good tenant on the place with plenty
of help under the draft age, desirous of leasing for
term pf years for cash, or possession can be had
March 1, 1919
About 400 acres all in one body now in corn; bal
ance hay meadow and creek pasture with plenty of
water and plenty of timber.
For further particulars phone or address
CARL W. GRANT, Owner.
Col. Alfred E. Smalley, Auctioneer.
S. J. Weekes, F. W. Woods and H. A. Olerich, Clerks.
r. —-~~jjr
Vaai Brunt
One Horse Drills
This drill was constructed especially for use
in seeding between corn rows or in limited
space. It has all the good features of the
regular large size Van Brunt Drills and does
the same high grade work. It is not made
small in order to give a cheap price drill, as it
is not a cheaply constructed affair, but is just
as durable as any. If you have only a small
piece of ground you will want to be sure that
every bit of it is seeded. The Van Brunt One
Horse Drill insures this. It plants all kinds of
seed accurately.
I Special Features. jj
The Van Brunt One-Horse Drill does perfect
work because it has the necessary parts to do
it. It has the famous Van Brunt adjustable |||
gate force feed which compels an even flow of II
seed from hopper; furrow openers that always ;
give a furrow of even depth in any soil that
can be seeded; closed delivery which always jj|f*
protects seeds until they reach bottom of fur
row so that seed is planted at even depth and ^
threfore grain is all up and ready for harvest
at the same time.
What It Will Do. j|
1. Give an even flow of seed from hopper all
the time. _
2. Make a furrow of uniform depth in any
soil that can be seeded. ilj:
3. Plant the seed at the bottom of this
furrow. ;
4. Plant in rows 6, 7, or 8 inches apart.
5. Plant all the ground. When discs come in J
contact with corn hills they spring in, Ijp
dodge them and return to their places.
We have a few Dain Hay Tools left.
Wearier (%L Sorvs. Ill
_ a ■ ■■ _ . . ■ -
| PUBLIC SALE! j
As my son is in Class 1 and expects to be called to
service soon I will sell at Public Auction at my place,
15 miles north of the OT^eill Fair Grounds, or 10 miles
south and 1 mile east of Whiting Bridge, or 1 mile
south of the Meek Post Office, the following described
property, commencing at 10:30 A. M. on
Tuesday, September 17th
36-HEAD OF CATTLE-36
Fifteen head of Milch cows; 3 3-year old heifers, with
calf; 4 2-year-old heifers; 7 steers; 7 spring calves; 1
Grade Jlareford Bull.
10—HEAD HORSES & MULES—10
One span of Black Mules, 8 and 9 years old, weight
2300; 1 span of dark bay mules, coming 9 years old,
weight 2,000; 1 brown mule, 12 years old, weight 1150;
1 gray horse 6 years old, weight 1100; 1 single driver;
1 saddle pony; 2 coming 2-year-old colts.
15-HEAD OF HOGS-15
Six brhod sows and 9 spring shotes.
FARM MACHINERY, ETC.
SEE ! .
Two riding listers; 2 riding cultivators; 1 disc; 1
John Deere 2-row eli, nearly new; 2 McCormick mow
ers; 1 hay rake; 1 hay sweep; 1 Great Western manure gH§
spreader; 1 top buggy, 114 inch tire; Bain wagon with
rack; 1 Webber wagon; 3 sets of harness; 1 single
buggy harness; 1 Economy King cream separator, new
last spring; 1 dining room table; 1 Mailable range HH
and many other articles too numerous to mention.
| FREE LUNCH AT 12 O’CLOCK |
TERMS—One year’s time will be given on all sums
of $10 and over, with approved security and 10 per
cent interest; sums under $10 cash. All property to
be settled for before removal.
MRS. JENNIE MADISON, Owner.
Col. Janies Moore, Auct. J. F. O’Donnell, Clerk.
SMIliiliilllllllllllllllMllllllllllllllllllI
Packers' Profits 1
Are Regulated j
The public should understand that
the profits of the packers have been >.
limited by the Food Administration ■
since November 1, 1917. For this pur- :
pose, the business of Swift & Company V
is now divided into three classes: !t $
Class 1 includes such products as beef, j;
pork, mutton, oleomargarine and ID
others that are essentially animal iflfl
products. Profits are limited to 9
per cent of the capital employed in
these departments, (including sur
plus and borrowed money), or not ‘!‘t
to exceed two and a half cents on h
each dollar of sales.
I Class 2 includes the soap, glue, , '
fertilizer, and other departments J: ||ff|
more or less associated with the !
meat business. Many of these de- * ; "t
partments are in competition with *
outside businesses whose profits |
are not limited. Profits in this class \
are restricted to 15 per cent of the
capital employed. 1 |
Class 3 inclu es outside investments,
such as those in stock yards, and •' ||
the operation of packing plants In .1
foreign countries. Profits in this j%
class are not limited. ||j||
I Total profits for all departments , 4
together in 1918 will probably be '
between three and four per cent on
an increased volume of sales. ||
The restrictions absolutely guar
antee a reasonable relation between ]
live stock prices and wholesale meat "C*
prices, because the packer’s profit can- 4
not possibly average more than a | j||
fraction of a cent per pound of product.
Since the profits on meat (Class 1)
are running only about 2 cents on each 4]
dollar of sales, we have to depend on . jjj
the profits from soap, glue, fertilizer 1
(Class 2, also limited) and other depart- ! j
ments, (Class 3) to obtain reasonable ">,*
earnings on capital. ,4
Swift & Company is conducting ! '\i
its business so as to come within these ’
limitations. “J
I Swift & Company, U. S A. II