MIKE GARNEY, BOMBER

Dominion, Volume 10, Issue 3143, 23 July 1917, Page 9

MIKE GARNEY, BOMBER

STORY OF AN ATTACK

(By I'atrick Macgill.)

Uho following story bv Patrick Macgill is published by the authority of the- British War Office, per medium of the Itoval Colonial'lnstitute.]

three minutes more!" said the vouugolhcer, looking at his wrist watch, and addressimr his remark to Rifleman Mike Garney, "then we're over the top." "Yes, sor," said Mike, fining- his pipe and lighting it. "I suppose tho Tanks aionear t: ' l6 Gorman trench be now." The officer nodded his head, and fingered his whistle. The thousand (runs, snug in their secret emplacements, -were still thundering; the shells were smashing the German trenches to smithereens. "It's tho dovil's own shindy!" said Mike. He was a. broad-shouldered man of medium height, and with a queer puckered little face, high cheek bones, and a small black clay pipe, which he always carried about with him, inside his cap on parade and in his haversack on the march. That was of course when he' was not smoking, and he smoked .at every opportunity, tho pipe in ono side of his mouth and the bowl turned down. Mike was a! bomber, fond of the work, and a man of merit in the execution of his duties. Over! The young officer climbed up on the parapet, took a last look at his watch and blew tho whistle. The soldiers swarmed over the parapet, Mike Garney ono of the first, but in the open his first feeling was one of disappointment, to start with, the charge was as dull as a church parade. Garney, although orders were given to the contrary, expected a wild, .whooping, forward rush, but tho men stepped out soberly, with Tegulated precision. "They're having a slow march on the parade ground," said Garney. ' In front a multitude of German ga6 shells had exploded, and a curtain of smoky fumes lay over No Man's Land. The Tanks could not be seen, the enemy trenches were invisible, the. air was alive with bullots. Garney and his mates went forward. A littlo V-shaped valley, formed by the caprice of the breeze, opened in the fumes, and at its far end tho enemy's wiro entanglements could lie seen. Garney walked along the valley for some twenty yards, then he glanced to hisleft and found that there was not a con> raxle in sight. "There, Murtagh. we've lost connection," he shouted, turning to .his right, but his words were -wasted on smoko and air. Murtagh had disappeared. Garnoy was all alone, in his littlo glen, and in-, visible birds wcro flicking angry wings close to his ears. His first inclination was to I urn back, not through fear, but with a. desiro to make inquiries, "Well, I can't take a' German trench an my own," ho muttered, standing still and puffing his pipe meditatively. "But it doesn't, matter «i <J— —. I'll go forward." He felt fear in a certain measure now, bint he was attracted towards that, which engendered tho fear, as an urchin attracted towards a. wasp's nest longs to poke the hive and annoy tho occupants. "Suppose I get killed now afore I. see anything," he said to himself. "I don't want: to get killed, without a bit o' devilment.". First Blood. Ho leached tho enomy's wires, tho few that remained, tripped and fell headlong. Getting lo his feet, he took stock of the locality in front. There was the Gorman trench sure enough, with its rows of dirty sandbags, a machine-gun emplacement, and a machine-gun peeping I'twtively through a loophole. A. big bearded German was adjusting the range of tho weapon. He at Garney, Garney looked at him, and tightened the grip on his rifle. "No! mo laddie buck!" said Mike gripping a bomb and throwing his arm back i'or the swing. "Have this for yer breakfast." He nun? the bomb, but did not soo it burst. Something hit him on the head at tho moment, and. he dropped out of tho world of conscious things. Ho lay on the 'ground for ten minutes lost to everything. Then he came to himself and his first sensation was of blood running down his nose. Ho got to his feet and looked awkwardly round. Nothing to be seon save the trench in front, the shell ripped sand-bags, and tho machine-gun emplacements, and a'khaki clad soldier who was looking over tho parapet smoking a cigarette. "Mother of God, they've taken the trenches and I've missed all the fun," said Gnrney. "Well, I'll have a smoke." Ho looked on tho ground for his pipo and found it there, smashed to pieces. "There's no fun in this business," he muttered. "No fightin' and no sniokin'. Hi there!" ho called to the soldier in tho trench. "Cheero!" came the reply. "Is tho fightin' all done?" asked Mike. "No, indeed!" was tho answer. "Over i in tho right, in a graveyard there's big ructions." Donnybrook in a Churchyard. "I'm for that arm o' the glen," Mike I replied. Ho rushed off towards tho churchyard. Ho accomplished many deeds not without merit in the churchyard, and in the afternoon he got wounded again. When he was carried in at night, he recounted somo of his adventures to the M.O. at i the dressing station. '"Twas Donnybrook all over iisin," he said. ""There was me .lithjat me pipe and tho blood running all over me face. I got into the graveyard and 'twas like a wasp's nest with machine-guns. They wor iverywhej^—in the graves, even among the dead people's bones, and behind tho tombstones. There was wan gun 'that was goin' Pit! Pit! all the time, and 1 marked it out for meself. I could see the place it was, behind a tombstone, a purty 3tone too, with two angels on it, and them kneeling in front of the 'Sacred Heart.' I've often rnd many a time seen tho same stone on the graves in mo own country. Well, along l crawls, up to near the place, and then I gets me bomb ready. I draws tho pin, stretches out me arm, riseß op, trows the bomb,'and, God forgive me! I biew them two innocent angels off tho tombstone. "And the German macbine-guuiißis:" asked the M.O. "Begors! They went with the angels," said Mike Garney,