Blazer’s Scouts at Kabletown

A tribute to the brave

By C.C. Gaylord

The following is an account of a battle fought between Capt. Richard Blazer’s Independent Union Scouts and a detachment of Col. J. S. Mosby’s Partisan Rangers.

Half a league, half a league,
Half a league through,
All in the Valley of Death
Rode Sixty-two.
“Forward, my noble scouts!
Charge for the Rebs!” he shouts.
Into the Valley of Death
Rode Sixty-two.

“Forward, my noble scouts!”
Is there a man who doubts?
Not though the soldier knew
They were out-numbered.
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die.
Boldly rode Sixty-two
Against three hundred.

Rebel to right of them,
Rebel to left of them,
Rebel in front of them
Their pistols drew;
Stormed at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode, and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of hell
Rode Sixty-two.

Flashed all their sabres bare,
Flashed as they turned in air
Sabring the Rebels there,
Charging an army
With such a few.
Plunged in the rifle smoke
Right through the Rebs they broke;
Confed and Ranger
Reeled from the sabre-stroke
Battered and blue.
Then they rode back, but not,
Not Sixty-two.

Rebel to right of them,
Rebel to left of them,
Rebel behind them
Volleyed and slew;
Stormed at with shot and shell,
While horse and hero fell,
They that had fought so well
Came back through the jaws of Death,
Back from the mouth of hell,
All that was left of them,
Of Sixty-two.

When can their glory fade?
Oh, the wild charge they made!
All the world wondered.
Honour that noble crew!
Honour the Sixty-two
Against three hundred.

The Destruction of Von Richthofen

By C.C. Gaylord

Baron Manfred Von Richthofen, otherwise known as the Red Baron, was killed April 21st, 1918 in a dogfight over Sailly-le-Sec, near Corbie. He was attempting to shoot down an Australian pilot, Lieutenant May, when Canadian pilot Roy Brown attacked him from the rear. He was killed instantly from a bullet in the chest and came down in no-man’s-land in front of the trenches of the 33rd Australian Field Battery of the 5th Division. This poem commemorates his last flight.

Richthofen came down like the wolf on the fold,
And his triplane was gleaming in scarlet and gold,
And the sheen of his shells was like burning debris
Where the U-boat lurks nightly beneath the North Sea.

Like the leaves of the forest when summer appears,
So thick fell his shots `round Lieutenant May’s ears;
Like the leaves when before the mad tempest they fly,
So the son of Australia was swept from the sky.

For the Angel of Death seemed to be on his tail
And the Maxim guns pelted his biplane like hail;
And the heart of the victim waxed deadly and chill,
And Richthofen prepared for his 81st kill.

Then upon him falls Brown, to the aid of his friend,
And upon the Red Baron his bullets descend,
And the red Fokker falters, and slowly glides down
To land, unopposed, on the shell-battered ground.

And there sat the pilot, distorted and dead,
With the dew on his brow and his chest full of lead,
And the engine was silent, the Spandaus were still,
And the hand on the joystick bereft of its skill.

And the Huns from their lines are forced back like a tide,
And the Kaiser has run into Holland to hide,
And the long-boasted might of the Teutonic horde
Has melted like snow in the glance of the Lord.

Lusitania: I.

Lusitania

By C.C. Gaylord

A True Story

Chapter I.

The Beginning of the Voyage

NOTICE!
TRAVELLERS intending to embark on the Atlantic voyage are reminded that a state of war exists between Germany and her allies and Great Britain and her allies; that the zone of war includes the waters adjacent to the British Isles; that, in accordance with formal notice given by the Imperial German Government, vessels flying the flag of Great Britain, or any of her allies, are liable to destruction in those waters and that travellers sailing in the war zone on ships of Great Britain or her allies do so at their own risk.
IMPERIAL GERMAN EMBASSY,
WASHINGTON, D.C., APRIL 22, 1915

“What do you think of that notice in the New York Times this morning?”
Colonel House was spending a pleasant morning with his friend Sir Edward Grey, Foreign Secretary in the botanical gardens.
“I don’t know exactly what to think of it,” replied Sir Edward. “I wonder why the Germans should post it now and not at the start of the war.”
“Well, you know that they have been sinking a great many of our merchant ships. Do you suppose they intend to sink a passenger liner?”
“Oh no, I think not. You must remember, Colonel, that this is not the Zulu War; Germany is a civilised nation like ourselves. Most likely it is intended for a friendly warning.”
“But supposing they should sink a passenger ship?”
“It is possible, but I do not think the Germans are foolish enough to attempt any such thing. They know they would never profit from such an act of inhumanity. The whole world would be up in arms against them.”
“You mean, I presume, that the United States would enter the war on the side of the Allies?”
“Perhaps I give the Americans too much credit, but I think that they would.”
“Well, I hope we shall not have cause to find out. I must take leave of you now. I lunch at Buckingham Palace today.”
“Good day, then. Give my respects to his Majesty.”

Avis watched the lines of people going down the gangplanks. It was a foggy and chilly morning in New York City, for spring had not quite come in earnest yet. A light rain had just begun to drizzle down and black umbrellas popped up here and there like mushrooms. The porters on the dock hurried to put the last pieces of luggage onto the elevator for loading onto the ship, for in a few more minutes the great steamer would set out on its trans-Atlantic voyage to Liverpool.

And Avis was sailing aboard it. She had been on a steamer before when she had come with her family to Canada, but now she was making the return voyage to go to school in England and this time she was going alone. It seemed a very great ways to one who was only twelve years old. She felt like a piece of driftwood afloat on the wide sea with no idea where she would end up.
At last the gangplanks were pulled up, the whistle shrieked and the ship began slowly to steam out of the bay. Sailing was fun at first, but Avis soon grew tired of it and began to watch the other passengers. Two little girls were skipping rope on the shelter deck. They were far younger than Avis, but she wondered if they might want to be friends anyhow.
“Hello,” she said. “Would you like me to turn the rope for you?”
“Go ‘long!” said the older of the two. “We don’t want you!”
Avis turned and walked away trying to look as if it made no difference to her what such a little girl thought or said.

“Look here,” cried the sailor who had been turning the rope for the little miscreant, “didn’t you never learn any manners?” And muttering “Catch me turning rope for you again!” he climbed the stairs to the top deck.
Avis walked the length of the long deck, feeling more lost than ever.
“There you are, at last! I’ve had your things put in our stateroom,” said Hilda, bustling up. Avis’s mother had hired Hilda to look after Avis on the journey. “You’d better come with me so you can see which room is ours. They’re easy to get confused, they all look so alike.”
Avis followed her into a corridor lined with doors with numbers pasted on them. She liked her cabin at once. The beds were soft and there were taps for washing right in their room. Her bunk was just above Hilda’s and had a heavy curtain that could be pulled across the front. Exploring the neat little room cheered her up a good deal. After all, it may have been only second-class, but it was as good as first-class on any other ship. Avis found her lifebelt with the ship’s name, LUSITANIA printed on it above her bunk. Although she didn’t expect to use it she was glad to know it was handy anyway.
“Would you like to come for a walk on the deck, Avis?” asked Hilda after they had arranged their luggage.
“No, thank you,” said Avis. She did not much care to go back out on the crowded deck.
“Well, amuse yourself in here, then. Sarah and I are going.” Sarah was the other girl who was supposed to help Hilda look after her.
“I shall be all right,” said Avis.
The two girls went out, but Avis could here them talking as they went down the hall.
“It’s just as well,” said Hilda. “I don’t want to waste the whole voyage looking after her. There’s lots of more interesting things to do.”
Avis sat in her bunk and read a book. She could still hear as from far away the bustle of people moving about the ship. Someone in the stateroom next to her’s was arranging things noisily. Down near the rear of the ship she could hear the great engines throbbing and a low washing sound which she thought might be the sea. It was all very exciting but rather frightening at the same time. She thought of all the stairs between her and the first open deck of the liner and wondered how she would ever get out if the ship caught fire or were sunk. It was no use trying to read anymore so Avis laid her book aside and went out again. She had no idea where Sarah and Hilda were, but it didn’t matter. She rather hoped she wouldn’t meet them, for they would only think her a hindrance anyway.
She climbed up to the very top deck of the ship where there were less people. It was called the boat deck and it was so high up that it made her dizzy to see the water so far below.
A young sailor was at work lashing a lifeboat to the deck. He was the same sailor who had been turning the rope for the little girls. He saw Avis and nodded in a friendly manner.
“Like it, eh?” he asked after a minute. “You should see the swells what come aboard here. Think it’s a jolly cruise ship. They’ll stand about and gawk at the knots I tie like I was a ‘jolly tar’ and what not. I do a bit of fancy knots just to please ‘em. I didn’t get such a green lot when I shipped on merchants.”
Avis sneezed.
“Wet, isn’t it? Looks as though it might clear up when we get out to sea. It’ll be a nice trip, I’d say. Just as well, as it’ll be my last. I’m enlisting as soon as we touch Liverpool. Don’t mean to miss the whole war. Been to England before?”
Avis was surprised by the sudden question.
“Oh—yes,” she said as soon as she had collected her wits. “I was born there.”
“Oh, I thought you were a Yankee.”
“Oh no. I’m Canadian.”
“Are you? Well I was born in Lyme myself. This your second voyage, then, is it?”
“Yes.”
“This is my first on a liner. Me and my brother John work aboard merchant ships mostly. The problem with them is that they can be a long time away from home port. I haven’t seen my father for more than a year.”
He was silent for a minute, working over a difficult knot.
“Neither have I,” said Avis, so quietly that the sailor did not hear her.
The rain began to fall more steadily and Avis realised that she was wet and cold. She found the staircase and went down to the promenade deck.Suddenly the gongs began sounding for tea and with one accord, passengers began flocking to the dining rooms. Avis squeezed up against the wall so she would not be swept along with the crowd. Suddenly she heard her name called and turning, she saw Hilda and Sarah fighting their way towards her. “Do hurry, Avis!” cried Sarah. “We must be some of the first people to the dining room or else we’ll have to wait for the second seating!” And catching hold of Avis’s hand she pulled her along through the press.