Page:History of the 305th field artillery (IA historyof305thfi01camp).pdf/255

Rh Time after time our gas guard bad wound his klaxon, and time after time we had struggled into respirators, and the switchboard operators had lcarned how difficult it was to talk intelligibly through a mask. But we had suspected nothing worse than mustard gas. While we sat impatiently there an officer of the 16th stumbled down the cellar steps and tbrough the curtain. He scemed to be in a hurry, and his face was white. From a corner a quiet voice spoke:

"There's phosgine in this ccllar."

The penetrating, sickly odor, was apparent to everyonc. Masks went on with a rush. The newcomer, however, didn't disturb his. He waved his hand deprecatingly. It trembled a trifle.

"Don't bother. I think I've brought it in on my clothes. Those shells are all over the hillside. Good Lord! I tell you one of them fell at my feet. Don't know why the rotten thing didn't hit me. When are we getting out, Major?"

The major shook his head. Nobody knew. It was B that held us up, and we tried them again. This time there was no answer to our call. We tried them through A and C. They were out of touch with the world.

Over there on the edge of Death Valley the B signal men worked frantically with a coil of twisted pair that had been snarled Half a mile from the new battery position. We established runners from that point to the battery so that the relief could be reported and communication of a sort maintained until daylight when the battalion detail ran a new line in.

At midnight, then, the 16th was through, and it went out of Les Près Farm, leaving us our own masters.

We gazed upon our new kingdom. In the stilling cellars such men as were not on duty tried to sleep. They lay sprawled on the dirt floor, endeavoring in their reat-