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Show SOLDIERS MAKE UP REVENGEJXPEDITION British Fighters Beg to Be Put on Force for Raid Against Germans. BOMB DEATH AVENGED Call Themselves "Black Hand Gang," but Preserve Pre-serve Grim Order. "LONDO'X, March 10. A young British officer writing from the front "somewhere in France" tells an interesting- story of the revenge planned and carried out by a number of soldiers following the death of a comrade. He says: Doddy Morgan had been killed by a promiscuous bomb thrown by a Bosche during a raid. The Bo-.-he may have acted ui the cool innocence of impersonal warfare. Had he known the consequences of his act he would probably have eaten that bomb before be-fore he threw it. As It was, Doddy Morgan's five best pals formed themselves them-selves into a Blark Hand gang and swore a particular and very personal blood feud against the Boche. Dan Wheeler was the lance-corporal and leader of the gang. Toung Ninnis was his trusty lieutenant. Their articles of association were to kill Boches, to kill more Bodies, and to kill still more Boches. Mind yon, they were all lads under 21 Rhondda colliers, very illiterate and full of strange oaths, but they brought to bear on their self-imposed mission an earnestness and zeal, that might have sat well on a Tristan or a Galahad. They did not make overmuch noise; but each one set to work, thoroughly and methodical.', to become an expert in the use of the Mills bomb which today Is possibly the most devastating devastat-ing individual engine of war. Begged to Be in Raid. When I took over the platoon I was told that the Black Hand gang were a rough lot, difficult to handle. I did not find them so. To me they seemed fellows who. while absolutely fixed In their determination to exact -the prire of their comrade's life, were somewhat sheepishly ashamed of that determination; like children who, caught at a. game of make -believe, will hang their heads and become dumb, albeit the game is very real to them. In the fullnes3 of time there came j an order that I should take a raiding patty ovor the top. Less than a quarter of an hour afterword ..the Blaclc Hand gang had volunteered as one man or perhaps volunteered is hardly the right word: they besgrd, prayed and beseeched that they should go over. Apart from anything else, they were now the best bombers in the company, so my consent was no unwilling one. On the night of the raid the five wr1 the merriest and most satisfied j soldiers on the western front. Their bombing waistcoats wer bulging, i their pockets were full, and they had i inspanned two or three of their own j particular cronfes to be well tip he-1 he-1 hind with reserves of bombs. At first T split them up. for. as I have said, they were our best bombers, and thpre was a queer emplacement to investi-ga investi-ga te. Night Is Momentous. One investigates most Boche works with a bomb thrown on as a visiting visit-ing card. Wheeler and Ninnis found out all there was to be known of that emplacement in two minutes by the clock, a nd at a total expend! turn of I one bomb, for they had seen no Boche : and bombs were not lightly to ho wasted. Then they joined the other Blak Handers. I Much happened that night of which, perhaps, I sliall write again; but this story has to do only with the primary pri-mary a ve n gl ng of D od d y M o rga n . j There was a very pandemonium of nolfe, and the flares and shell flashes were making the place as light as day. For a quarter of an hour I had too much to do to attend to minor enterprises. en-terprises. Then I walked along the trench. It was a typical trench. A little way along was a big dugout with three entrances. At one Ninnis and a.nother Black Hander were bombing down Ifke furies, using language that would have turned half a hemisphere blue If the roar of the guns had not lulled it at birth. At the next entrance en-trance was another of the gang, very cool and collected, tossing his bombs down as one throws balls at cocoanuts at the village fair. Watch for Enemies. At the third entrance, on each 6ide, stood Wheeler and the fifth member of the pang with bayonets at the guard, ready to deal with any Ill-advised Ill-advised Huns who should try to make a dash for safety. They mood there like statues of eternal vengeance. One forgot they were only boys. Their fa res bore a look that would have struck terror to the stone heart of a gargoyle. Wheeler was a 19-year-old collier lad with a cream-and-roses complexion. It was time to get out and back to our lines. It took me some time to get those five away. The frenzv of killing had them In stern grip. There were no more than twentv Germans ( in that dugout, and they had thrown sufficient bombs to kill two hundred. All the reserve had been used up. Perhaps that helped to persuade them that it was time to trek. We. got back across No Man's Land under a hail of shrapnel, jumped into our trenches, reported the success of our raid, had a lot of rum, and so to bed. Next morning, in reserve, I came across Ninnis peeling potatoes. "Have a good time last night?" I asked him in passing. "Not so bad, sir." he answered, with a sheepish grin, and went on peeling his potatoes. |