. The American Legion Weekly [Volume 1, No. 10 (September 5, 1919)]. together to rivaled concrete. Barley and cab-bage soup, with a few thin threads ofmeat, black acorn coffee and the heftybrot was Jerrys festive gamut. Igot my first whittling of black bread atthe town of Catillon. There was anadvanced dressing station there and Iwas brought back from the front linealong with a number of wounded Ger-mans. The place was already crowded withwounded Jerries when we arrived, andthey were nipping off little hunks ofbread with a knife. When I had beenduly deposited on the floor among thefollo
. The American Legion Weekly [Volume 1, No. 10 (September 5, 1919)]. together to rivaled concrete. Barley and cab-bage soup, with a few thin threads ofmeat, black acorn coffee and the heftybrot was Jerrys festive gamut. Igot my first whittling of black bread atthe town of Catillon. There was anadvanced dressing station there and Iwas brought back from the front linealong with a number of wounded Ger-mans. The place was already crowded withwounded Jerries when we arrived, andthey were nipping off little hunks ofbread with a knife. When I had beenduly deposited on the floor among thefollowers of the blood and iron policy,a greaseball sauntered my way, un-bosomed himself to a Jerry kamerad witha series of questions about my national-ity, place of capture, etc., and then gaveme a piece of the punk and some blackliquid. But he was a corporal—only theJerry non-coms were intrusted with theimportant mission of guardian of the staffof life. I took out my pocket knife and whittledoff pieces as the Jerries were doing,soaked them up in the liquid and then. Life in the block, at Dulmen, was amonotonous affair After dining out with Jerry as aprisoner of war, Mr. Level con-tinuing his reminiscences in histhird article of the series, Cap-tured by Jerry, pays his respectsto the makers of A. E. F. chow. washed them down, for the sake of goodmanners, following the example of theothers. If this had been a Yank dressingstation, I might have ventured a quizzas, When do we eat? but here I didntthink it advisable. From Catillon we were taken toAvesnes, about twenty miles away. Thejourney occupied two days. We made itin a little German transport wagon drawnby two ponies. At the hospital in AvesnesI was assigned to a ward in charge ofseveral Tommies who had been prison-ers for a couple of years. They were sur-prised to see a Yank and one of themeagerly asked me where I was from, say-ing he wanted the address of the firstdoughboy he had seen. Presently a German offered me a largeslic
Size: 2353px × 1062px
Photo credit: © The Reading Room / Alamy / Afripics
License: Licensed
Model Released: No
Keywords: ., bookauthoramerican, bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, bookyear1919
