THE SECOND OFFICERS' TRAINING CAMP
���WITH YOUR FOOT IN ANOTHER GUY'S EAR
��was inevitable. Michigan-Wisconsin had a practically easy day, except for the rain. No tired backs — no blistered hands — no poorly drained ditches to stand in. They were waiting for darkness to make their attack. Illinois was waiting to meet them.
The trenches on the Somme the dugouts so vividly pictured by Bairns- father — had their duplicate that night at Fort Sheridan. As ditch diggers, some of the rookies were better comedians than plumbers. For in their zeal to dig faster than the next company, some forgot that w^ater ran down hill.
If you were there, you will remember the first night in the trenches at Fort Sheridan. It had all the horrors except bursting shells. The bottom of the trenches soon became sluiceways of mud. The rain, cold and clinging, came dow^n in floods. Patrols climbing over the top could neither be seen nor heard a few^ feet distant. Guards stood looking over the parapets and wondering w^hen morning w^ould come.
Who could describe the dugouts on that first rainy night? There was one in which the company had taken particular pride during the day. A group of men afterwards notable in the service helped to build it and they were proud. They only forgot one thing that was important water runs down hill.
In the early evening it was fine. A happy group at the end of a hard
day, whispered their experiences, imitating real warfare. They had built a dirt seat for comfort around the dugout, and a cozy sheet-iron stove in the center. Then the rain began to operate. Down the trenches it came until it
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