Adventure Magazine Cover, June 20, 1925 — page 25: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

A Sergeant of Cavalry 7 ~ “Look at ’em, they don’t mind them shells a mite! Ain’t them gunners got no eyes at all?” “They don’t seem to hit within a mile of ’em, do they?” “Shut up the bellerin’,” called the driver of the truck over his shoulder. ‘Them is our planes, and: the jerries are tryin’ to down ’em.” “That so?” said the men in the truck. “Well, we might a known that our gunners wouldn’t be so far off the target.” “You tell ’em,” said the truck driver. “If you want to see some fine shootin’ all over the lot, you want to watch some o’ them cosmoline anti-aircraft outfits. There’s only one thing worse, an’ that’s the field artillery in this man’s Army. Half the time they’re shellin’ their own roads. Well, I ain’t no man to discourage yuh.” The driver slowed to a stop as an officer came out to the road and held up his hand. ‘Are those replacements for the Thirty- first?” called the officer. “Yessir.” “Well, you might as well drop them here, it will save them quite a walk back. How many in there?’’ It appeared that there were twenty. The Fourth Company had been composed of a hundred and forty men, which would fur- nish the replacements for a battalion. The truck that held Nell Colburn was emptied, and another like it, and the officer, after conferring with one of the company offi- cers, who had been on the second truck, formed the men up and marched them into the woods. Here they were divided and Nell’s truckload, with some twenty others, taken to a great block of a building on the edge of the forest. ~ “This here is G Company,” said the man who had brought them over. ‘The top will be out in a minute.” A guide led Colburn around the corner of the building to a small room that had the appearance of having been a cow shed at some time or other. “Hey, corporal!”’ called the guide, ‘‘here’s a friend for yuh.” A red-haired man in his undershirt ap- peared and Colburn was pointed out to him. Then the guide passed on with his other charges. “My name’s Mead,” said the corporal, looking keenly at Nell. ‘You ever soldiered before?”’ “Well,” began Nell, but the corporal in- terrupted. ag His eye had noted the neatly fitting blouse, the old Army breeches and the scar of the chevrons on the sleeve. “Never mind,” he said quickly. “I don’t care, ’tain’t nothin’ to me. C’m in and I'll see about a bunk.” Within the shed were six men, one of whom wrote a letter, another wrapped and unwrapped a new pair of puttees in an ef- fort to make them look somewhat present- able, a third placidly cleaned his rifle and the other two were engaged in a game of pinochle. . “You can sling your pack down in the ha anywheres,”’ said the corporal. ‘You won’t need to make up a bunk because we’re movin’ outta here at dark. It’s about time or the coots would eat us alive. The place is lousy with ’em.”’ The men, after one look at Nell, went.on with their occupations. They were very si- lent, probably because of the newcomer, and also because of the heat. They all had glaringly new underwear on, most of them had new breeches and some had new shoes. “Didn’t they give you a new rifle?” a man asked suddenly, pointing to the En- field that Nell had stood against the wall. “Nope,” said Nell, ‘that’s the only one Pve got. I see you fellers got the old Springfield. Maybe I can buscar one.” “They’ll issue you one out, maybe,” said the corporal. ‘You wouldn’t want to lug that one very far.”’ : “Tt’ll do to kill one or two squareheads with,” said Nell, smiling. ) “Huh!” cried two or three at once. ‘You won’t kill no squareheads for some time!”’ “How come?” gasped the ex-cavalryman. “Isn’t this the front?” “Sure it’s the front, but we ain’t on it,” said the corporal. ‘‘We come outta the lines three days ago and we’re startin’ for rest billets tonight. We won’t do no more fightin’ this summer.” Nell said never a word. He sat on the floor, his back against a stall, and looked at a German ammunition pouch that had been souvenired by one of the men. It was made of leather, with three oblong pockets, and had wire hooks to hang to the knapsack straps. Nell would never get one. No more fighting this summer! | “Would they mind a guy taking a little pasear around here?” asked Nell. COMIGDIOOKSEEO