Jasper County Democrat, Volume 20, Number 82, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 12 January 1918 — JUST PART OF DAY’S WORK [ARTICLE]

JUST PART OF DAY’S WORK

British Aviators Awaiting a Call Reminded American Newspaper Correspondent of Bellhops. We strolled, as we talked, into a long shed, with a board table along Its center, a telephone desk in the corner and many maps on the plain board walls—the regulation appearance of a headquarters. A bench ran down one side of the room, and on it sat seven ofLeight lean, blond, clean cut British youths in khaki. It was the watch, waiting on call against emergencies of the air. Phil Simms, being an American and therefore of witty imagination, smiled. waiting for a call to Z 26,” he whispered. The row of aviators, being Britons and shy, shifted their legs and looked embarrassed. But one rose from the bench and approached the captain, saluting. He was breathing heavily and his eyes were bloodshot. “Oh—-you’ve just landed !” said the captain easily. “Had a fight, didn’t you?” i “Yes, sir,” said the boy all in a breath. “Squad of four German planes attacked me and Brown-Jones. (This name, of course, is disguised.) My gun jammed after three shots, and I had to hurry back. ferown-Jones brought ope down, I think. At least he appeared to be out of control when he dropped into the cloud below.” “Oh—cr —Brown-Jones back?” “No, sir. But I saw him crossing our lines behind me.” “Engine trouble, I suppose. Doubtless we’ll hear from him later. What about the other three Huns?” “They showed evidences of extreme terror, sir!” “Very well.” The boy settled back onto the bench, where he nonchalantly borrowed a cigarette from his neighbor. Just let your imagination play on this, as mine did. Back from a fight fifteen thousand, eighteen thousand, feet in the air, a thing merely dreamed of three years ago, realized only a year ago—an adventure beyond precedent. And here it was treated as part of the day’s work ! —Will Irwin in the Saturday Evening Post.

Why Soldiers Wear Wrist Watches. Replying to a question from his audience, a British officer lecturing in Chicago explained why all officers wear wrist watches. He described an advance from the trenches as an illustration, telling how every move was made on a prearranged schedule, the artillery throwing a curtain of fire for a certain number of seconds, while the infantry advanced 20 yards farther ahead, while the infantry made another advance, and so on. “All this shell fire,” he said, “Is being done by artillery far behind. The artillery officer depends most of all upon his watch. He sits with a telephone glued to his ear and field glasses in his hands. He has no time to be fumbling for his watch. A minute’s error in changing the range would mean that the shells would be falling into his own advancing troops. Nor has the officer leading his men across No Man’s Land any time to be fumbling for his watch.”