Description

Tales from a Dugout

87 pages 

There were seven of them composing the crew of Gun No. 2, of the ——th Brigade Machine
Gun Company. Their gun was the Vickers, light, .303, watercooled.
They were nicknamed as follows:
Curly, a Scotchman. Dubbed Curly on account of a cute little Delia Fox curl. He gave more
attention to this curl than to his rifle. Many girls wrote to him, and he wrote to many girls.
Happy, a Londoner. He earned his title from his happy disposition. He helped Curly with his
correspondence.
Hungry. His nickname needs no explanation. He was. Once Mr. Hoover dined with him,
hence his food conservation idea. Hungry hailed from London.
Ikey. He was. Came from the East Side, London. Brave as a lion, and to our discomfort,
musically inclined.
Dick. Irish, from Dublin. Always ready. Greatly admired the Kaiser because he started such
a glorious scrap.
Sailor Bill. A Welshman. He had had a “cruise” in the Navy, and wanted everybody to know
it. They did. He was detailed with the gun’s crew to carry “ammo” (ammunition).
Yank. Got his handle because he was American. He hailed from the “Big Town” behind the
Statue of Liberty, and was proud of it, too. Committed a “technical error” and got mixed up
in the Great Fight.
They were soldiers of the King, and their further personal history does not matter. It will
suffice to say that they were fighting in the British Army for Justice, Democracy and Liberty.
Scene of action: “Somewhere in France.”
Time: A few months after the sinking of the Lusitania.
After “stand down” had been passed along the fire trench, they would repair to their two-
by-four dugout, and it was their custom to while away the time by taking turns at story-
telling. Some of these were personal experiences, while others were told to them by their
mates, the majority of whom, by this time, have either “gone West,” or reached that heaven
of the British soldier—”Blighty.”