The Martian, journal publié par les soldats américains de l'Hôpital de Mars-sur-Allier , item 8
Transcription
Transcription history
-
THE MARTIAN
Hommes - 36-40
Chevaux - 8
Vol. 1 - No. 134 Sunday, November 24, 1918 Price: 30 centimes
----
RUMORS
Cartoon showing one soldier whispering something to another with other soldiers looking on from around a corner. Thought bubbles show first saying "Bz-z-z-z-z!" and a question mark coming from the second.
"Now 'Forty Eight'
Will evacuate
On .......!
At least we hope.
And 'Thirty Five'
As you're alive
Leave .........!
Sure, it's inside dope.
'Fourteen' they say
Will be on their way
By ...........!
A friend was there and heard
But the 'Q.M.' crowd,
Sh! not so loud,
Vamoose by .........!
Get me? Mums the word!
* * *
We'll agree
That you can see
How rumors come and go,
So pass the laugh
Come ask the Staff,
We're sure that we don't know!
----
FOOTBALL
----
Base Hospital Forty Eight and Convalescent Camp will meet for the determining game at Skinner Field Thanks giving Day 2.30 P.M.
Column Two
HOW IT MIGHT BE
----
The Medical Corps man sleeps always in anticipation. It is natural for him to do so. Hanging about his two story couch are the gloomy festoons which make up the sum and total of his clothing. It is cold and chilling; a damp vapor is in the air. Gurgles and snores punctuate the darkness.
It is 4 A.M. Dreams of home and love glide into the subconscious minds of the recumbent forms. Perhaps it is a picture of the old farm, of the orange groves of California or the sweeping plains of Nebraska.
Suddenly the shrill, piercing blast of a bugle tears the shrouded night. Again and again it calls. Heavily armed guards thump on doors. The sleepers are aroused.
The gloom becomes heavier than before. The rude hand of the Top Kick discovers many a shrinking, modest form, beneath a score of blankets. Snores are changed to expletives; dreams of home vanish before the reality of mud and fog in France.
"Train's in!" is the magic phrase which startles the sleeper into action. There is a race to see who gets to the door first. Ye of little faith, get up early yourselves and see whether this is true or not. With a joyful cry the victor springs through the door which willing hands open for him. Of course, just as often as not, his first step outside lands him in a squashy puddle of mud into which he sits with almost utmost informality.
Every man in the barracks is heart and soul in the general spirit of the occasion including the official jokester. Even his feeblest attempts go "big," as they say in vaudeville. Encore after encore resounds. It is usually the thud of field shoes on the adjacent floor.
On through the gloom, push the hardy litter bearers. They arrive at the Receiving Ward. Manfully and eagerly they seize their pet litters. Each man has long 'ere this given an endearing name to this friend of his early hours. Fond hands smooth the blankets and pillows. With a long, soldierly stride, the men are off. The Detachment Commander stands proudly in the road and watches his men go forward, each form alert and vibrating with supreme purpose. Oh yes!
Slowly the train draws into the center. It is greeted with a shout of joy. The dark night, the ghostly figures of the medical men, the sharp swift commands of the officers, and the train bathed in blue light, impress themselves forcibly in every mind. The folks back home will have a picture of it in the next letter.
The train stops. The wheels turn a little again, and then the clanging of chains announces that the unloading is about to begin. It is the moment for which every man has been waiting.
Three hundred men, suffering from every disease from catarrh to bunions, alight from the cars and march to the Hospital. The work is done.
----
The Height of Hope : Turning the faucet on the Headquarters water pipe.
Column Three
TOPSIDE THEATRE
----
Work has progressed to considerable extent on the new Topside Theatre which promises to afford the camp a place of amusement suitable to accomodating much larger crowds tahn has heretofore been possible.
The design and construction is in the very capable hands of Lt. De Young and the general supervision of the work is being well taken care of by Sgt. De Jonge. Sgt. James Savery will have charge of the interior and stage direction.
It is planned to open the new theatre with a large entertainment, the details of which are to be announced later. In the meantime, plans are being formulated whereby the best of the Camp talent may be utilized in contributing another unique feature to the activities of this center.
----
A Fighter at Sixteen
----
An extraordinary supply of patriotism and a white lie a year and a half ago made John Moberly a member of an Alabama Machine Gun Company, at the age of slightly less than sixteen. He has been in active service ever since, and participated in the Chateau-Thierry drive of world-wide fame and in the terrific fighting at Belleau Woods.
Moberly, now approaching eighteen, is still a mere lad. Although he was "gassed" under circumstances that would try the spirit of a mature man, this boy is still glad of the step he took on the day when he joined a little band that called itself "Dixie Volunteers," down in Alabama, and marched away in khaki to battle against his country's enemies. He has not yet recovered from the effects of the gas and is a patient in "48."
He is said to be youngest soldier in his division. In spite of his youth he was old enough to know that a battle depends often very largely on personal deeds, so when many of his comrades operating their machine guns in Belleau woods where so many other brave lads laid down their lives, were killed or wounded, he poured fire into the enemy until he succumbed to the gas. He was rescued, and in the hospital, his captain visited him and complimented him highly.
The lad has always been an adventurous spirit in the true sense of the word, with all the implication it contains in Southern minds. At the age of 12, he ran away from home for some minor reason, and up to the time of his enlistment he worked on farm and plantation, in shop and factory. Then when the war broke, the first fervor caught him, and he could not resist the temptation of adding a few years to his age when he went into the recruiting office.
----
OUR SHEEP
----
Nancy's brother, so they say
Was raised in the Nevers gutter
They call him Oleomargerine, -
He's such a dog-gone butter!
-
THE MARTIAN
Hommes - 36-40
Chevaux - 8
Vol. 1 - No. 134 Sunday, November 24, 1918 Price: 30 centimes
----
RUMORS
Cartoon showing one soldier whispering something to another with other soldiers looking on from around a corner. Thought bubbles show first saying "Bz-z-z-z-z!" and a question mark coming from the second.
"Now 'Forty Eight'
Will evacuate
On .......!
At least we hope.
And 'Thirty Five'
As you're alive
Leave .........!
Sure, it's inside dope.
'Fourteen' they say
Will be on their way
By ...........!
A friend was there and heard
But the 'Q.M.' crowd,
Sh! not so loud,
Vamoose by .........!
Get me? Mums the word!
* * *
We'll agree
That you can see
How rumors come and go,
So pass the laugh
Come ask the Staff,
We're sure that we don't know!
----
FOOTBALL
----
Base Hospital Forty Eight and Convalescent Camp will meet for the determining game at Skinner Field Thanks giving Day 2.30 P.M.
Column Two
HOW IT MIGHT BE
----
The Medical Corps man sleeps always in anticipation. It is natural for him to do so. Hanging about his two story couch are the gloomy festoons which make up the sum and total of his clothing. It is cold and chilling; a damp vapor is in the air. Gurgles and snores punctuate the darkness.
It is 4 A.M. Dreams of home and love glide into the subconscious minds of the recumbent forms. Perhaps it is a picture of the old farm, of the orange groves of California or the sweeping plains of Nebraska.
Suddenly the shrill, piercing blast of a bugle tears the shrouded night. Again and again it calls. Heavily armed guards thump on doors. The sleepers are aroused.
The gloom becomes heavier than before. The rude hand of the Top Kick discovers many a shrinking, modest form, beneath a score of blankets. Snores are changed to expletives; dreams of home vanish before the reality of mud and fog in France.
"Train's in!" is the magic phrase which startles the sleeper into action. There is a race to see who gets to the door first. Ye of little faith, get up early yourselves and see whether this is true or not. With a joyful cry the victor springs through the door which willing hands open for him. Of course, just as often as not, his first step outside lands him in a squashy puddle of mud into which he sits with almost utmost informality.
Every man in the barracks is heart and soul in the general spirit of the occasion including the official jokester. Even his feeblest attempts go "big," as they say in vaudeville. Encore after encore resounds. It is usually the thud of field shoes on the adjacent floor.
On through the gloom, push the hardy litter bearers. They arrive at the Receiving Ward. Manfully and eagerly they seize their pet litters. Each man has long 'ere this given an endearing name to this friend of his early hours. Fond hands smooth the blankets and pillows. With a long, soldierly stride, the men are off. The Detachment Commander stands proudly in the road and watches his men go forward, each form alert and vibrating with supreme purpose. Oh yes!
Slowly the train draws into the center. It is greeted with a shout of joy. The dark night, the ghostly figures of the medical men, the sharp swift commands of the officers, and the train bathed in blue light, impress themselves forcibly in every mind. The folks back home will have a picture of it in the next letter.
The train stops. The wheels turn a little again, and then the clanging of chains announces that the unloading is about to begin. It is the moment for which every man has been waiting.
Three hundred men, suffering from every disease from catarrh to bunions, alight from the cars and march to the Hospital. The work is done.
----
The Height of Hope : Turning the faucet on the Headquarters water pipe.
Column Three
TOPSIDE THEATRE
----
Work has progressed to considerable extent on the new Topside Theatre which promises to afford the camp a place of amusement suitable to accomodating much larger crowds tahn has heretofore been possible.
The design and construction is in the very capable hands of Lt. De Young and the general supervision of the work is being well taken care of by Sgt. De Jonge. Sgt. James Savery will have charge of the interior and stage direction.
It is planned to open the new theatre with a large entertainment, the details of which are to be announced later. In the meantime, plans are being formulated whereby the best of the Camp talent may be utilized in contributing another unique feature to the activities of this center.
----
A Fighter at Sixteen
----
An extraordinary supply of patriotism and a white lie a year and a half ago made John Moberly a member of an Alabama Machine Gun Company, at the age of slightly less than sixteen. He has been in active service ever since, and participated in the Chateau-Thierry drive of world-wide fame and in the terrific fighting at Belleau Woods.
Moberly, now approaching eighteen, is still a mere lad. Although he was "gassed" under circumstances that would try the spirit of a mature man, this boy is still glad of the step he took on the day when he joined a little band that called itself "Dixie Volunteers," down in Alabama, and marched away in khaki to battle against his country's enemies. He has not yet recovered from the effects of the gas and is a patient in "48."
He is said to be youngest soldier in his division. In spite of his youth he was old enough to know that a battle depends often very largely on personal deeds, so when many of his comrades operating their machine guns in Belleau woods where so many other brave lads laid down their lives, were killed or wounded, he poured fire into the enemy until he succumbed to the gas. He was rescued, and in the hospital, his captain visited him and complimented him highly.
The lad has always been an adventurous spirit in the true sense of the word, with all the implication it contains in Southern minds. At the age of 12, he ran away from home for some minor reason, and up to the time of his enlistment he worked on farm and plantation, in shop and factory. Then when the war broke, the first fervor caught him, and he could not resist the temptation of adding a few years to his age when he went into the recruiting office.
----
OUR SHEEP
----
Nancy's brother, so they say
Was raised in the Nevers gutter
They call him Oleomargerine, -
He's such a dog-gone butter!
-
THE MARTIAN
Hommes - 36-40
Chevaux - 8
Vol. 1 - No. 134 Sunday, November 24, 1918 Price: 30 centimes
----
RUMORS
Cartoon showing one soldier whispering something to another with other soldiers looking on from around a corner. Thought bubbles show first saying "Bz-z-z-z-z!" and a question mark coming from the second.
"Now 'Forty Eight'
Will evacuate
On .......!
At least we hope.
And 'Thirty Five'
As you're alive
Leave .........!
Sure, it's inside dope.
'Fourteen' they say
Will be on their way
By ...........!
A friend was there and heard
But the 'Q.M.' crowd,
Sh! not so loud,
Vamoose by .........!
Get me? Mums the word!
* * *
We'll agree
That you can see
How rumors come and go,
So pass the laugh
Come ask the Staff,
We're sure that we don't know!
----
FOOTBALL
----
Base Hospital Forty Eight and Convalescent Camp will meet for the determining game at Skinner Field Thanks giving Day 2.30 P.M.
Column Two
HOW IT MIGHT BE
----
The Medical Corps man sleeps always in anticipation. It is natural for him to do so. Hanging about his two story couch are the gloomy festoons which make up the sum and total of his clothing. It is cold and chilling; a damp vapor is in the air. Gurgles and snores punctuate the darkness.
It is 4 A.M. Dreams of home and love glide into the subconscious minds of the recumbent forms. Perhaps it is a picture of the old farm, of the orange groves of California or the sweeping plains of Nebraska.
Suddenly the shrill, piercing blast of a bugle tears the shrouded night. Again and again it calls. Heavily armed guards thump on doors. The sleepers are aroused.
The gloom becomes heavier than before. The rude hand of the Top Kick discovers many a shrinking, modest form, beneath a score of blankets. Snores are changed to expletives; dreams of home vanish before the reality of mud and fog in France.
"Train's in!" is the magic phrase which startles the sleeper into action. There is a race to see who gets to the door first. Ye of little faith, get up early yourselves and see whether this is true or not. With a joyful cry the victor springs through the door which willing hands open for him. Of course, just as often as not, his first step outside lands him in a squashy puddle of mud into which he sits with almost utmost informality.
Every man in the barracks is heart and soul in the general spirit of the occasion including the official jokester. Even his feeblest attempts go "big," as they say in vaudeville. Encore after encore resounds. It is usually the thud of field shoes on the adjacent floor.
On through the gloom, push the hardy litter bearers. They arrive at the Receiving Ward. Manfully and eagerly they seize their pet litters. Each man has long 'ere this given an endearing name to this friend of his early hours. Fond hands smooth the blankets and pillows. With a long, soldierly stride, the men are off. The Detachment Commander stands proudly in the road and watches his men go forward, each form alert and vibrating with supreme purpose. Oh yes!
Slowly the train draws into the center. It is greeted with a shout of joy. The dark night, the ghostly figures of the medical men, the sharp swift commands of the officers, and the train bathed in blue light, impress themselves forcibly in every mind. The folks back home will have a picture of it in the next letter.
The train stops. The wheels turn a little again, and then the clanging of chains announces that the unloading is about to begin. It is the moment for which every man has been waiting.
Three hundred men, suffering from every disease from catarrh to bunions, alight from the cars and march to the Hospital. The work is done.
----
The Height of Hope : Turning the faucet on the Headquarters water pipe.
Column Three
TOPSIDE THEATRE
----
Work has progressed to considerable extent on the new Topside Theatre which promises to afford the camp a place of amusement suitable to accomodating much larger crowds tahn has heretofore been possible.
The design and construction is in the very capable hands of Lt. De Young and the general supervision of the work is being well taken care of by Sgt. De Jonge. Sgt. James Savery will have charge of the interior and stage direction.
It is planned to open the new theatre with a large entertainment, the details of which are to be announced later. In the meantime, plans are being formulated whereby the best of the Camp talent may be utilized in contributing another unique feature to the activities of this center.
----
A Fighter at Sixteen
----
An extraordinary supply of patriotism and a white lie a year and a half ago made John Moberly a member of an Alabama Machine Gun Company, at the age of slightly less than sixteen. He has been in active service ever since, and participated in the Chateau-Thierry drive of world-wide fame and in the terrific fighting at Belleau Woods.
Moberly, now approaching eighteen, is still a mere lad. Although he was "gassed" under
-
THE MARTIAN
Hommes - 36-40
Chevaux - 8
Vol. 1 - No. 134 Sunday, November 24, 1918 Price: 30 centimes
----
RUMORS
Cartoon showing one soldier whispering something to another with other soldiers looking on from around a corner. Thought bubbles show first saying "Bz-z-z-z-z!" and a question mark coming from the second.
"Now 'Forty Eight'
Will evacuate
On .......!
At least we hope.
And 'Thirty Five'
As you're alive
Leave .........!
Sure, it's inside dope.
'Fourteen' they say
Will be on their way
By ...........!
A friend was there and heard
But the 'Q.M.' crowd,
Sh! not so loud,
Vamoose by .........!
Get me? Mums the word!
* * *
We'll agree
That you can see
How rumors come and go,
So pass the laugh
Come ask the Staff,
We're sure that we don't know!
----
FOOTBALL
----
Base Hospital Forty Eight and Convalescent Camp will meet for the determining game at Skinner Field Thanks giving Day 2.30 P.M.
Column Two
HOW IT MIGHT BE
----
The Medical Corps man sleeps always in anticipation. It is natural for him to do so. Hanging about his two story couch are the gloomy festoons which make up the sum and total of his clothing. It is cold and chilling; a damp vapor is in the air. Gurgles and snores punctuate the darkness.
It is 4 A.M. Dreams of home and love glide into the subconscious minds of the recumbent forms. Perhaps it is a picture of the old farm, of the orange groves of California or the sweeping plains of Nebraska.
Suddenly the shrill, piercing blast of a bugle tears the shrouded night. Again and again it calls. Heavily armed guards thump on doors. The sleepers are aroused.
The gloom becomes heavier than before. The rude hand of the Top Kick discovers many a shrinking, modest form, beneath a score of blankets. Snores are changed to expletives; dreams of home vanish before the reality of mud and fog in France.
"Train's in!" is the magic phrase which startles the sleeper into action. There is a race to see who gets to the door first. Ye of little faith, get up early yourselves and see whether this is true or not. With a joyful cry the victor springs through the door which willing hands open for him. Of course, just as often as not, his first step outside lands him in a squashy puddle of mud into which he sits with almost utmost informality.
Description
Save description- 46.85599792463026||3.0879743000000417||||1
Mars-sur-Allier
Location(s)
Story location Mars-sur-Allier
- ID
- 13708 / 140107
- Contributor
- Médiathèque municipale Jean Jaurès de Nevers
November 24, 1918
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