Judge, 1928-05-19 · page 18 of 36
Judge — May 19, 1928 — page 18: what you’re looking at
What you’re looking at
This is the opening of a fictional WWI narrative by Sergeant Chuttleworth, illustrated by James Trembath. It depicts five soldiers huddled in a shell crater in No Man's Land during a nighttime battle, with French and German artillery roaring nearby. The narrator describes the psychological tension of combat: soldiers' faces "ghastly white" with fear during illuminating flare bursts. The dramatic climax involves a young English soldier ("Tommy") gambling their survival on a single rifle shot at an unseen German target—a desperate moment of courage (or recklessness) under fire. The "dice" metaphor suggests warfare as chance; the soldier "rolled a seven," implying success. This appears to be a patriotic, dramatic war story emphasizing British soldier bravery, likely published during or shortly after WWI to appeal to American readers through Judge magazine's entertainment offerings.
📄 Transcribed text from this page (OCR, searchable)
Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.
NO MANS LAND A Vivid Tale of the World War ICTURE a bitterly coldnightof inky ness, with t distant rumblings of great French 75's mingling with the roar of a thousand German batteries. There were five of us; five weary and numb figures crouched on the frozen mud of a shell hole in No Man's Land. ‘Twenty paces away were the German front line trenches, and high overhead a Very light turned the y : , 4 a night into day and stamped on my mind 4 GY ples Kafe Uf an indelible picture of the faces of erie ano SIE? | my comrades— aces showing — ghastl, Illustration by . | white, faces dripping with the perspira me | tion of suspense. Blackness again, and James ‘Trembath | \ 1 leaned forward, ery nerve tingling | with excitement. Above the interminable din a faint were cut short by the blinding flash of another flare— | | q] click rewarded my straining ears. It came from the “Now,” I sereamed, “shoot, for God's sake shoot!” | i! i mnan at my tnglish Tommy searcely more Instantly the plucky young Englishman rose on one 1] | than a boy and on his first reconnoitering party. knee and again I heard that sharp clicking sound. { Reaching out I touched him on the shoulder. “Don't Spellbound we watched his arm fly back and jerk for- shoot,” I whispered. until the next flare. “It's ward... . It was all over; we'd lost, lost every- my last chance,” he sobbed, “and I'm o win, thing on the wild gamble of an English kid, for there | | going to win. IT can feel it in my bon Steady, on the frozen ground at our feet lay the dice. The old man,” I whispered. ke it easy"—My words darn Limey had shot and rolled a seven, comicbooks.com