American library books Β» Humor Β» "Same old Bill, eh Mable!" by Edward Streeter (different ereaders txt) πŸ“•

Read book online Β«"Same old Bill, eh Mable!" by Edward Streeter (different ereaders txt) πŸ“•Β».   Author   -   Edward Streeter



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Im gettin so I can drop quicker than a war stock. When that thing lit we was all standin round watchin the Lootenant. When it started distributin itself around there wasnt nobody in sight. A couple of others came right after it closer still.

After a while I heard the Lootenant say "Its so comfortable in here I hate to get out." Like he was takin a hot bath or something. Only he didnt fool nobody that way. When it looked like the Hungry Awstrians had quit everybody began poppin out of the ground agen. As soon as we was all up shh-bang. Angus cut his eye on a rock in the bottom of a shell hole. Hell be able to give pointers to Annie Kellerman when he gets home. If he ever gets wounded Ill bet itll be in the sole of the foot.

After that the Lootenant decided he wouldnt keep us out any longer. He was afraid wed miss our mess. The war is changin some people.

Well Mable Ill rite you agen in a few days if I dont get put on detached service with the Angels.

until then yours exclusively
Bill

Dere Mable:

I suppose you thought I was dead for the last two weeks. You was so near to right a couple of times I wanted to get something definite on it before I rote you. I been havin newmonya now in the hospittle for ten days. I havnt been so sore since I had the mumps Crismus vacashun. After duckin half the shells the Croup people ever turned out I had to get hit with a cold in the head. I bet I get the chicken pox on my honeymoon.

An now here I am holdin down an irun cot that creeks when you turn over, missin all the fun an not even goin to get a wound stripe. The worst of it they tell me I got as much chance of gettin back to my battery as I havin of catchin the Croun Prince. They say like as not Ill land in some Steva Dora regiment in the SOS or in the M.P.s. They dont seem to have nothin to do in this army but take you from where you want to be an put you where you dont.

But I aint goin to complain, Mable. I told em that after Id been here four days. All I say is if they dont let me out of this hole toot sweet Im goin to get up an beat it an die on the road. Then perhaps theyll wish they had.

Theres not a blessed thing to do but wait for mess an lissen to the fello lie in the next bed. He can make Annie Nias look like Martha Washington before hes been talkin five minites. He says that when he got hit the shells was fallin around him so fast that the only way he saved his life was by deflectin them off with a bayonet. Two of them came at him at once an he got mixed up. I ast him why he didnt catch one on the back of his neck like the fello does the cannon balls in the vawdeville show. The nurse told me yesterday he got his foot run over by a truck. Everybody spends there time tellin how they used to shake dice with death every mornin before breakfast. It works out all right cause nobody believes anybody else an it gives them good practice for when they go home.

Its a funny thing about the fello in the next bed. I came in two days after he did. Four days after he got here he came down with newmonya. I got it two days later. He died last night. But of course that dont necesarily mean nothin. Cheerful an bright to the last gasp. Thats me all over, Mable. Of course I dont want you to worry cause that would make me worry an theres no tellin what that would bring on.

Well, Mable, I got a big surprise for you. I guess itll take a load offen your mind. You know all that stuff we been readin in the war stories about hospittles an the like. It all goes the same. "The next thing the fello knew he was lyin between snowy white sheets an a butiful vizun was bendin over him. She had vilet eyes an was full of tears like shed been cryin or something. An she smooths out his pillo an says 'Your better now.'" That smoothin out the pillo always seems to cure em. Well, Mable, Im sorry to say thats all bunkβ€”every word of it.

When I first heard they were goin to send me to a hospittle behind the lines I didnt care a bit. I wanted to have a look at a vilet eyed nurse. Accordin to the books they usuly turn out to be Dutcheses or somebody. I was plannin to look up in her eyes an say "This must be heven. Do you happen to have any lemonade?" Or something mushy like that. Then shed cry some more an like as not put a stick in the lemonade.

"'DO YOU HAPPEN TO HAVE ANY LEMONADE?'"

Of course I wouldnt have married her or nothin. In the first place all the churches over here is knocked down an besides I got other plans if I ever get a chance between wars.

The thing started off all wrong by my not bein unconshus when they brought me in. I didnt even ride in on a stretcher. I was a sittin case. They walk. Before I could get into the place at all I had to report to a sargent. He ast me so many questions I thought I must have struck some recruitin stashun an might be enlistin agen. I pretty near had heart failure for a minit. The sargent told me report to Ward 19. You never go anywhere in the army. You report. Theyd have a fello in his coffin report to his grave if they could.

When they built Ward 19 they took all the joy out of it by makin it look like a barracks. Insted of a vilet eyed nurse there was a bleary eyed Captin sittin in a little room in front. He didnt look as if hed been to bed since the war started. I says "Sir, Private Smith reports to be sick in Ward 19." Nobody cried or looked at me with tears in there eyes. The Captin just says "What the this an that is the matter with those fellos up there do they think this is the only hospittle in France? Lets see your card."

He called an orderly who showed me an empty bed where I was to be sick. Then he says "If you want anything to eat you better get your close off." Just like a fello couldnt eat right with his close on. An he says "You dont have to set your dirty shoes on the blankets nether."

After Id got into bed the nurse came along to take my temperment. I aint goin to say nothin agenst that nurse tho. She was all right an it wasnt her falt she didnt have vilet eyes. As for cryin, Mable, she was too busy to have shed a tear if you shoved a peck of onyuns under her nose. I never saw anybody work so hard. Shed make a good wife for the Top sargent. It would make him happy to sit around an watch her.

Well, Mable, if you dont get another letter from me youll probably get one from the local congressman explainin why. If the worst come to worst tell your father I didnt bear no grudge agenst him. I was thinkin yesterday about a little motto or something for my toomstone. I sort of like this one. I showed it to the nurse. She said she never saw anything like it on anybodies toomstone so I guess itll be all right.

Here lies the body of Bill Smith, dead
For the good of the service, with a cold in his head
Tho hed felt (without duckin) the bullets breeze
He was called aloft by an ordinary sneeze.


yours hopefully
Bill

Dere Mable:

All kinds of things has happened since I rote you last. In the first place I didnt die of newmonya like I said I was goin to but I bet I had the government worried about my insurance a couple of times. One day they put a bunch of us in an ambulance an drove off. Nobody knew where we was goin except that it was toward the front. It seemed good almost to hear those old guns bangin away just like Id never been gone. An then the first person I saw when they let me out was the Top sargent. Itll give you an idear how glad I was to get back to the outfit when I say I could have kised him, whissel an all.

Im riting this way down in a Dutch dug-out. Upstairs there shellin all the time. War certinly has changed since I went to the hospittle. You take more chances goin to mess up here than you did goin over the top when this all started. In half an hour, I got to go on gas gard. That means I stand in front of the dug out an when I smell something I blow a klaxon. If any old Ford ever sneaks up behind me when I get home an blows a klaxon theyll probably see me clap my derby over my face an dive into a coal hole.

Theyve thrown so much gas at us lately that its gettin on the mens nerves as well as there close. Most of the fellos would yell gas if you threw a pot of geraniums into the dugout. Somebody stepped on Anguses hand while he was asleep yesterday an he put some iodine on it. He woke up in the middle of the night an smelt it. He had us wearin our gas masks pretty near the rest of the night. But weβ€”

Ive forgot what I was goin to say there. I bet Ive got gray hairs since I rote that last line. Just as I got to the "we" I heard the old klaxon squawk. When I felt around my chest for my gas mask it wasnt there. It was worse than findin yourself on the street car without a nickel on the way to your own weddin. I sat there wonderin how long I could hold my breth till I almost busted a lung. Then I remembered it was on my knee under the letter where Id been usin it for a ritin desk. Theyd have sent me back to the States as gas instructor if they could have seem me put on that mask. Chained lightenin. Thats me all over, Mable.

All we do nowdays is move. Back in the States it used to take us 24 hours to get ready for a hike. Now were lucky if we get 24 minits. We expect anything an we havnt been disappointed so far. Like the other nite when we were on our way to this place. It was rainin as usual. Wed pitched pup tents in the woods an had just gotten to sleep. Angus an I was bunkin together on some hay that hed pulled of a forage wagon that was caught in a jam. We was lissenin to the rain an sayin how lucky we was not to be out in it. That is nothin but our feet an there always wet so they dont count. Its funny how different rain sounds beatin on the sides of a pup tent an on a tin derby.

I went to sleep an dreamed I was on a train just pullin into Philopolis. I looked out the windo an saw your father on the platform with a whissel in his mouth. He was blowin it an dancin around like a mad monkey. Then I woke up an the Top was standin outside blowin on his whissel like he was tryin to blow the pea out of it an sayin "Fall in. Harness an hitch."

Well, Mable, to say that bunch was sore was like callin Niagra Falls pretty. I dont supose you ever tried to make a blanket roll in the pitch dark an six inches of mud. It comes out like a jelly roll only mud insted of jelly.

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