Snow Trenches by Dan Steele

Author:Dan Steele [Steele, Dan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Nonfiction, History, Military, World War I, Germany, British
ISBN: 9781839742019
Google: XXRJngEACAAJ
Publisher: BARAJIMA Books
Published: 2020-01-09T05:00:00+00:00

XI — Retreat

JEEZ, I’M TIRED! I was never so tired in my life!” said Coon Dog Evans.

“Boy, you ain’t the only one.” returned Cook. “Gimme a cigarette!”

“Are you out of ‘em, or just too damn lazy to dig one out?”

“I got some in my pack, but I’m too tired to unroll it.”

“How are you goin’ to get your blankets out?”

“I ain’t goin’ to get ‘em out. I don’t need blankets to sleep this time, brother. Besides, we may have to leave here in a hell of a hurry. Don’t be so damn technical! Gimme a cigarette; I’ll pay ya back.”

Coon Dog lay on the floor next the stove, his head propped up on his pack, his rifle slanted in the crook of his arm, and his steel helmet pulled down so that it rested on the tip of his nose. His cigarette puffed red and gray at the rim of his helmet.

Cook methodically loosened the straps of his pack and pulled out his two blankets. He spread them carefully on the floor close to Coon Dog, and started to roll into them. Coon Dog opened his eyes.

“Lemme lay on part o’ them blankets, will ya?” he said.

“You’re too lazy to move while I spread ‘em.”

“Lazy, hell! I may be bushed, but I ain’t lazy...Never mind, keep ‘em all yourself.”

“Oh, all right, come on.”

The wrapped and muffled bodies of men jammed the floor so that not one more could find sleeping space there. The confined air was heavy with unhealthy odors. It was not even warm. But outside it was forty below zero, so the men did not complain. They merely huddled closer together and burrowed deeper under coats and blankets. They did not even mind the foul staleness of the much-breathed air of the place. Fatigue, lack of sleep, and exposure had drugged them. They lay in a heavy stupor, with great, blasting shells and visions of pursuit still crowding the backgrounds of their minds. Men aroused for sentry duty sat up with automatic abruptness, without actually awakening. When they opened their eyes, they groaned and their senses reeled. Chilled and shaking, numb, unseeing and unthinking, they stumbled out and braced their feet again in the road facing south.

Lieutenant Burns had laid down on a bench near the door of the room occupied by his men. His drawn and haggard face showed how badly he needed a few hours’ rest. But there was little relief in the disturbed nap he could snatch while some other officer commanded the guard. There would be little rest until they were safe in Shenkursk. The thrill of their stealthy withdrawal under the eyes and ears of the surrounding Red battalions had revived him somewhat, but the cold and the painful drudgery of the march had borne him under.

It had been four A.M. when they entered Shalosha. Now it was nine o’clock of the same morning.

A single sentry stood in the middle of the road. He stood as fixedly as the charred pine tree stumps all around him.

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