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I In the Ba?ic L?ie. ,i),li.A…

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I In the Ba?ic L?ie. ,i),li.A lott. L.¡.,u..c.1(; ..s.L.'iw- A THE MENACE FROM THE AIR. [By Sapper LIew Bassett, Llanelly.] Back to BilietS., We return to billets in the afternoon, and if all goes well I shall take my box respirator off my chest, and my other harness, throw them in the "bivie," and go in myself, my fellow occupants doing the same. Our domicile is only a few courses of sandbags each side, with a pole stretching from end to end holding the "sheet" that is doing its best to keep the rain out. Not a very pleasant place to make one's abode, and as for cover from Fritz's bombs; we cannot stop the wet coming through, let alone bombs. Someone shouts "dinner up," and we take our mess tins to the cook-house. Our mess tins are not required, as it is only "Bully" and pork and beans, and no "duff." Not a very appetising meal, but we take it back to the "bivie" and hungrily bolt it down. One of my com- rades said: "There are things that a. good soldier never refuses, and that is a good bed and a good square meal." Another chimed in "We are not doing so bad on four on a loaf for a day and Bully." "That is the worst of it," another said, "we take so many prisoners. We have to feed them, and our rations are cut down.' After dinner we have odd jobs to do, such as scrape the mud off our boots and clothes, put on a dry pair of socks. We try our patience lighting a fire, the smoke bringing tears to our eyes. Tea is up, and we satisfy our hunger eating some bread and jam. Tea over, and now it is our leisure time. We cannot go any- where, there is nothing to see here, only observation balloons and aeroplanes fly- ing about. The roads are thick with mud, and our camp itself is a quagmire. There is nothing for us but to remain in the "bivie." I The Night and the Coths. It is dusk outside, and we illuminate our "bivouac" with one candle power. It is cold, and the fire is dying out, so we draw the canvas over the door to stop the draught. The long weary night ha.s come. I peep outside. It is a calm starry night with no moon. My fellow occupants are busy. One is writing a letter to his best girl in Blighty. Another has his shirt off scrutinizing it minutely with his eyes, by candle light, searching for and counter attacking the little H'uns, or in other words, "chatting" his shirt. Another is trying to gulp a biscuit with some jam on down his throat. Your humble is in meditation; visions of Sospan Faeh ap- pear to him. Suddenly three blasts of the whistle go. The Goths are hum- ming in the air. All lights must be ex- tinguished. The camp policeman comes round to see that all lights are put out. You can picture the commotion it causes in the "bivies" with the occupants. One may be half through a letter, or someone had spotted a 'chat' on his shirt when the lights had to be..put out. All is quiet, but for the noise of the "night raiders" in the air. Our guns are silenced, the Goths have cast a spell of calmness over them. The gunners dare not fire now. The red flashes of their guns would reveal their positions if they fired to the Goths. Nearer they came to our camp, humming their deadly note on the winds of night. The irregular th rob of the Goth engines in the air could be plainly heard. As I lay in my camp, full of anxiety, one seemed to pass on the right, then-1 would hear the engines of one on the left. Then it seem- ed that a Goth was hovering direct above our camp. Unable to stay the anxiety and anticipation of an unseen hand drop- ping bombs on my camp, I go outside to watch the heavens. lour Cuns and Searchlights. The searchlights scan the heavens from innumerable points. The grey beams rapidly skim the sky, seeking the Goths. ?,- k ing the Goths. One has eluded the searchlights and guns It has dropped its shower of bombs and is sailing home to its "bur." The searchlight has discovered a Goth, and our anti-aircraft guns are ploughing away at it. The numerous searchlights turn their beams on the Goth, making a circle of the grey beams in the sky. The guns boom in a crescendo of gunfire, and the shells burst in the grey lights like 'fairy lights.' A wonderful sight to be sure. There is the Goth hovering and throb- bing like a silver star in the beams of heaven with projectiles bursting all round it. Mi chin* gun bullets could be seen for a, distance in their flight towards the Goth. It was a perilous time for the Hun pilot, He stopped bis 0nÔne. now he Tl(', Iliq, now ,?p rise again, but still the searchlights had him in Gniduol'v bo working liir, Tniohino for home: he had succeeded 1 1 ■ eluded the searchlights, and was making for the hangar, dropping his bombs be- fore reaching his roost. Other Goths are in the air, bombs are dropped in places, but whenever one is caught in the search- lights, it. has a hot receptioil from our anti-aircraft guns. There is no peace at night for the weary soldiers. It is only when the elements are bad that we are left in peace at night by the Goths. A bomb was dropped in our camp, but for- tunately it was a dud, and did not ex- plode. All it did was to make one of the men jump out of bed, with the shock. Casualties must be where death dealing bombs drop from the sky, but with all the night raids the Goths make on their bomb dropping excursions, they have caused very little material damage, and whenever they do come over, our planes are over the German lines giving Fritz more bombs than the German air-men give Tommy Atkins.

_._- - -.- -Husband and Wife.

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Rural Council & the L.G.B.

IN MEMORIAM.

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- -[!'r. Education Committee.

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