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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..e75e62c --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #52142 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/52142) diff --git a/old/52142-0.txt b/old/52142-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 2ea345e..0000000 --- a/old/52142-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,9146 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of The War Stories of Private Thomas Atkins, by -Thomas Atkins - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: The War Stories of Private Thomas Atkins - -Author: Thomas Atkins - -Release Date: May 23, 2016 [EBook #52142] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WAR STORIES *** - - - - -Produced by Brian Coe, Paul Clark and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries) - - - - - - - - - - _THE DAILY CHRONICLE WAR LIBRARY_ - - - THE WAR - STORIES - OF PRIVATE - THOMAS ATKINS - - A SELECTION OF THE BEST - THINGS IN HIS PERSONAL - LETTERS FROM THE FRONT & - SO A STIRRING TALE OF GREAT - DEEDS DONE FOR A GREAT - CAUSE IN A SPIRIT OF SIMPLE - DUTY AND GALLANT GAIETY - - - PUBLISHED FOR THE DAILY CHRONICLE - BY GEORGE NEWNES LIMITED OF - SOUTHAMPTON ST., STRAND, LONDON, AT - ONE SHILLING NET - - - - - _No one with a sense of Humour - should miss reading_ - - “SMITHY” - - Not to Mention - - NOBBY CLARK - AND - SPUD MURPHY - - By EDGAR WALLACE - - - The most entertaining Stories ever written - of “Tommy Atkins” and his little ways - - - _NOW ON SALE_ - - _at all Booksellers and Railway Bookstalls, 1/- - or Post free 1/2, from the Publishers,_ Net - - -GEORGE NEWNES LTD. - -8-11 Southampton Street, Strand, London, W.C. - - - - - THE WAR - STORIES - OF PRIVATE - THOMAS ATKINS - - - “_Are we downhearted?_” “_No-o-o!_” - - THE WAR CRY OF PRIVATE ATKINS. - - _It’s a long way to Tipperary - It’s a long way to go, - It’s a long way to Tipperary, - To the sweetest girl I know! - Good-bye, Piccadilly! - Farewell, Leicester Square! - It’s a long, long way to Tipperary, - But my heart’s right there._ - - THE MARCHING SONG OF PRIVATE ATKINS. - - - PUBLISHED FOR THE DAILY CHRONICLE - BY GEORGE NEWNES LIMITED OF - SOUTHAMPTON ST., STRAND, LONDON - - - - - PRINTED AT - THE BALLANTYNE PRESS - LONDON - - - - -CONTENTS - - - Page - - “BLOW! BUGLES, BLOW!” 5 - - I MARCHING TO WAR 9 - - II THINGS BY THE WAY 14 - - III THE FRIENDLY FRENCH 20 - - IV THE ENEMY GERMAN 26 - - V CAMPAIGNING IN GENERAL 32 - - VI BATTLES IN BEING 41 - - VII WHAT THE SOLDIER SEES 56 - - VIII HOW IT FEELS UNDER FIRE 67 - - IX CORNERS IN THE FIGHT 78 - - X HIT AND MISSED 92 - - XI ADVANCE AND RETREAT 103 - - XII IN THE TRENCHES 115 - - XIII GALLANT DEEDS 125 - - XIV TALES OF TRAGEDY 134 - - XV ANECDOTES OF HUMOUR 142 - - XVI STORIES OF SACRIFICE 150 - - XVII THE MAN AMID WAR 159 - - XVIII THE COMMON TASK 169 - - XIX MATTERS IN GENERAL 179 - - XX SUMMING IT UP 186 - - - - - _Now all the youth of England are on fire, - And silken dalliance in the wardrobe lies; - Now thrive the armourers, and honour’s thought - Reigns solely in the breast of every man._ - - WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE. - - - - -“BLOW! BUGLES, BLOW!” - - _Boot, saddle, to horse, away! - Rescue my castle before the hot day - Brightens to blue from its silvery grey. - Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!_ - - ROBERT BROWNING. - - -You like song, dear Private Atkins, its lilt and its sentiment, and you -have been singing your way through battle, on the hills of France and -the plains of Belgium. You are really a poet, as well as a first-rate -fighting man, though the very idea will make your camp-fire rock with -laughter. Well, in your letters from the war to the old folk and the -young folk at home, you have written things worthy to be bound in cloth -of gold. - -You have, in particular, being a natural fellow, written yourself to -them, and you are just splendid, singly and collectively. You look out -from your epistles with a smile on your lips, humour in one eye and a -touch of the devil in the other, and you cry, “Are we downhearted?” -“No!” gladly answer we, who have been listening to the news of battle -ringing down the street, and for a moment, perhaps, forgetting you and -your writing on the wall with the bayonet point. - -You do get the red, living phrases, don’t you, Private Atkins? “The -hottest thing in South Africa was frost-bitten compared with what’s -going on here.” “The Boer War was a mothers’ meeting beside this -affair.” “Another shell dropped at me and I went like Tod Sloan.” “Did -you see that German man’s face when I told him about our victories? -Poor devil! He opened his mouth like a letter-box.” No, Thomas, you may -not be a scribe, but you “get there,” especially when the order comes, -“All rifles loaded and handy by your side!” - -“It’s hard, but it’s good,” is how you sum up your campaigning, -and there goes a bottom truth. “You can’t,” as you say, “expect a -six-course dinner on active service,” but you would break your heart to -be out of it all. “When I am in the thick of the fire a strange feeling -comes over me. I feel and see no danger--I think it is the fighting -blood of my forefathers.” Yes, and when you receive a rifle bullet -through the arm or leg it feels “a bit of a sting,” nothing more, -“like a sharp needle going into me, but shrapnel hurts--hurts pretty -badly.” You are not, however, going to let mother, wife, or sweetheart -know this, because it would worry them. - -You dread to tell them that “when the bullet went in my leg the main -artery was severed, and they are going to take part of it off and leave -me a cripple for life.” Still harder is it to write: “I am wounded, -and do not hope to live; I am going and so cannot come home as I -hoped; I send all my love.” And then there is an echo of infinity and -immortality in the thought, “When a fellow gets shot you never think -he is gone, but that he will come back.” Someone softly starts singing -“Nearer, my God, to Thee,” and it runs sweetly along the ranks, the -muffled prayer of inextinguishable hearts for a soul in flight. - -But “Black Marias” and “Jack Johnsons” and “coal-boxes,” as you call -the enemy’s howitzer shells, are driving along, and you accept them -with your usual Atkins philosophy. The gun you know as “Aunt Sally” -is flopping her big shells at you; “Calamity Jane” salutes you in -odd volumes from miles away, and “Belching Billy” chimes in now and -then. “Whistling Rufus,” whose shells are smaller, is also in the -turmoil, but, being without fear of the big brethren, you merely have -a contempt for him. Still, the whole roar keeps you from the hour’s -sleep you are entitled to snatch, and therefore you gently swear at the -Kaiser as “William the Weed,” nickname Von Kluck “Old Von o’Clock,” -and grimly subscribe to the Uhlans as “Ewe-lambs.” Always you remain -the good sportsman, saying, “Put me a shilling on Gravelotte for the -Cesarewitch, if this letter is in time”; or, “Fancy Robins drawing the -Palace 1--1. Cheers!” - -What was it you said when the doctor was bandaging your shattered knee? -That you wouldn’t be able to play for Maidstone United at Christmas! -You had forgotten the remark. Possibly you had also forgotten that four -of you, and rather “bad cases,” enjoyed “nap” on the top of a Red Cross -motor-lorry, all the way to the hospital. One of you contained six -bullets, and he said on the operating-table, “There will be enough to -make the missus a pair of earrings.” Another of you, a big Highlander, -had pleaded not to be taken from the firing line because “I have still -some shots left and I can do something with them.” “Keep smiling” is -your motto; “there’s only one winner in this game--roll on, England.” - -Your gay bravery, your simple tenderness, and your fine humour make -an epic, Thomas Atkins, and it is you yourself who write it, all -unknowingly. “Tell mother I’m all Sir Garnet, Al.” “How is little Dick? -Give him a kiss. He must be a great man in this long while. Love to the -old lady and write soon”; and then, “I am wading in blood!” “Irene’s -prayer-book is always with me, although it upsets me to think of her -saying her little prayers for me. I have got some French slippers for -the children, which I hope to be able to bring to England. They are -very quaint--_Bon jour!_” “I parted with my badge to a little Belgian -girl who, with her mother, was giving our boys milk to drink. She was -just like Dora, and was wildly delighted to get such a souvenir.” “If -you have not sold Nigger I should like to have a photo of him and the -two boys, or Jack and the dog, to show some of my chums.” Thinking -tenderly of home! - -With tenderness, Private Atkins, you have chivalry; or, as you would -put it yourself, you “know how to behave towards a woman.” “The Red -Cross girleens, with their purty faces and their sweet ways, are as -good men as most of us, and better than some of us. They are not -supposed to venture into the firing line, but they get there all the -same, and devil the one of us durst turn them away.” Of course not, -my Irish soldier, and maybe it was you who plucked the grapes that a -French maiden couldn’t reach, and had the surprise and confusion of -your life when, in thanks, she kissed you on both cheeks. She knew, -with the woman’s instinct, that she could fire your chivalry and still -trust it. “_Très correct_” is the universal tribute you get in France, -and it is a tribute to wear under your medals, next to your heart--a -Legion of Honour for the gentleman you are. - -You have given your French friends another true taste of yourself in -your high spirits, your jollity, your manifestation that the merry -heart goes all the day. You have the gift of wonder, which means -imagination, and occasions for exercising it, as when the concussion of -a shell flung you up into a tree, and your sergeant, missing you and -looking around, asked in military language where you had gone! You came -down to tell him and couldn’t, and thereupon the wonder of the thing -seized him also. That incident was of the drawbridge order which links -tragedy and humour, for they march together even in the battlefield -with you. Serious, nay, grave things may be framing you about, but your -eye never misses the rift of humour, and that is good. - -There was a shell which lighted on a field kitchen while the master -cook was stirring the dinner. It was a near shave for him, but, -as he did escape, you mostly recall his rueful appearance as he -gathered himself out of the scattered soup. Another of our vignettes -is of some cows getting into the battle arena, and of half a dozen -infantrymen calmly milking them. “Early doors this way; early doors, -ninepence!” you once cried for slogan in a hard charge. When the German -searchlights fell on you for the first time, your comment was, “Why, -Bill, it’s just like a play and us in the limelight.” It was the Irish -element in you which shouted, “Look at thim divils retraitin’ with -their backs facin’ us,” adding, about a lucky shamrock supposed to have -been given to the Kaiser by somebody, “Sure, Hinissey, and there’ll be -a leaf apiece for us when we get to Berlin.” - -Your philosophy, Private Atkins, cannot be upset even when a shrapnel -bullet knocks a few inches out of your arm. No; your lament is that it -carries away a tattooed butterfly of which you were very proud. You -date your letters from the “Hotel de la Openaires, Rue de Grassies, bed -most comfortable and all arrangements up-to-date.” You have your little -joke all the time, and so when you meet the Foot Guards on a Sunday -you ask them which band is playing in the Park? Now and then the joke -is against you, but you only enjoy it all the more, which is the final -testimony that you are a true humorist. - -Perhaps if the joke singles out overmuch you go “all the colours of the -rainbow,” a lovable thing, because it reveals your modesty. Otherwise -you always are in your element, be the field tented white or stricken -red. You are the complete knight in khaki, self-respecting, proud of -your regiment, a lion-rampant of bravery and resolution, tender-hearted -for all suffering; and we shall not forget your simple request, “Think -kind of a soldier!” How could we when we know that you have a greater -song than “Tipperary,” although you only sing it silently to yourselves -in the dark watches of the night: - - “_A little I’m hurt, but not yet slain; - I’ll but lie down and bleed awhile - And then I’ll rise and fight again._” - - JAMES MILNE - - - - -THE WAR STORIES OF PRIVATE THOMAS ATKINS - - - - -I. MARCHING TO WAR - - _Fair stood the wind for France - When we our sails advance._ - - MICHAEL DRAYTON. - - _Sound, sound the clarion, fill the fife, - To all the sensual world proclaim, - One crowded hour of glorious life - Is worth an age without a name._ - - SIR WALTER SCOTT. - - -One pretty French girl had learned only one English phrase, “Kiss me -quick.” I don’t know who taught her, but when she walked up the lines -repeating it she soon found out its significance: _Truthful Thomas -Atkins_. - - -Keepsakes - -The French girls are going mad on getting our cap-badges and the -numerals on our shoulders. We have been served with jack-knives, and -they want to buy them of us, but we will not part with them: _A Private -of the Worcesters_. - - -Want Nothing - -France is a lovely country, but the sun has been very hot and -trying--almost as bad as India. The roads are lined with apple and pear -trees, which are now laden with fruit, and the troops are not in want -of anything in that line: _Quartermaster-Sergeant R. Hodge_. - - -“Cheer, Boys, Cheer” - -It’s enough to give you fits to hear the Frenchmen trying to pick up -the words of “Cheer, Boys, Cheer,” which we sing with a great go on -the march. They haven’t any notion of what the words mean, but they can -tell from our manner that they mean we’re in great heart, and that’s -infectious here: _Sergt. W. Holmes, Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders_. - - -Couldn’t Understand! - -We never see a paper here; only a French one, and you should see the -sport when our fellows try to read one. Everyone has his own way of -reading it. The French people are very nice, also very generous. The -only drawback is we can’t understand them--only just a few words now -and again: _Sergt. D. O’Donnell, 2nd Royal Irish_. - - -Those Highlanders - -The French people could not do enough for us when we landed at -Boulogne. They were principally struck with the Highlanders. They had -been told we were the most daring of the British forces, and one woman -shouted out in admiration as we marched past, “There go the women from -hell.” She thought that was the biggest compliment she could pay us: _A -Seaforth Highlander_. - - -Her “Soldat” - -The French people run out with bread and wine and fruit, and press -them on the soldiers as they march through the villages. To-day we -are camped by a field of lucerne, which is fortunate, as no hay is -available. The tinned meat is very good, and we get French bread at -times, which is excellent. Yesterday, passing through a village early, -I went into a small buvette, and got coffee and some chocolate. The -good woman refused all payment, saying she had a son who was “soldat,” -and I could not get her to take any money at all: _Anonymous_. - - -Delightfully Hungry - -I have never felt so well in my life, and, my word, I can eat--any time -and all times. We get plenty of real good food, and tea or coffee. You -will be rather surprised to hear we are served with roast beef, lamb, -boiled beef, bully beef, cheese, bacon, jam, marmalade, large and small -biscuits, onions, carrots, spuds, celery; in fact, we are living like -lords. But we can’t get any London shag (that is the worst rub), nor -any fag-papers, at least not with gum on them: _Pte. C. A. Porter, Army -Service Corps_. - - -Dandy Lads - -It rained a bit the first day we landed in France, but after that there -were sunny days, and grand country to march through, the roads being -particularly good. We did our thirty and thirty-five miles a day, and -finished up fresh, bar a number who had bad feet and had to be left at -the base.... These are the men, I said to myself, who have made Old -England the real stuff which never allows confidence to flag in a great -national trouble such as that through which we are now passing: _A -Private of the Royal Scots Fusiliers_. - - -Flowers and Favours - -The British troops met with an overwhelming reception immediately -they landed on French soil. People went mad almost, so overjoyed were -they to see us, and they begged us to give them pieces of biscuit and -small articles as souvenirs. We never wanted for food or anything else -among the French. The girls threw us flowers and people gave us wine, -and anything, in fact, we wanted. They all wanted to shake hands with -us, and we had great difficulty in marching, so surrounded were we -with them. When we met the French soldiers--well, that did it. They -commenced shouting and singing, and were properly excited at seeing us: -_A Private of the Royal Sussex Regiment_. - - -Tramp, Tramp, Tramp! - -It would do your heart good to see our fellows leaving for the front. -Regiment after regiment, thousands of men, march past here every -night: Tramp, tramp, tramp! All splendidly fit; sometimes with a band, -sometimes singing. A great favourite is “Here we are, here we are, here -we are again,” also “Tipperary.” As I am writing a train is leaving, -packed, and the Tommies are singing, “Hold your hand out, naughty boy,” -all happy. There is nothing on earth to touch our chaps for spirits: -_Sapper C. R. J. Green, Royal Engineers_. - - -Pat’s Mishap - -I was unlucky. I fell from a train at full speed. I was picked up for -dead. French soldiers came and carried me away for burial. There were -some women about. It was, I think, a woman who came up and looked at -me and noticed something which made her think I was not a corpse--not -yet. It’ll take a lot to kill me! So I was resurrected. I’m a good bit -broken--something in my back, something in my head. Oh, yes; it’s a bad -pain when I move. But that’ll be all right soon. I don’t look bad, do -I? _An Irish Private_. - - -A Comparison - -As regards France in general, they are a long way behind England in so -far as trams, buses, etc., are concerned, but the country is simply -handsome. There is not a bit of idle land anywhere, for all you can -see for miles is nothing but wheat and fruit trees. The houses and -villages, I should think, were built years ago. They put you in mind of -the old-fashioned pictures of villages you see at home. The people are -the most cordial I have seen, and at the present moment they would give -you their hearts if they could: _Pte. Talbot, Army Service Corps_. - - -Church Bells - -Just got into a big town. Resting here for a few hours, so snatched the -opportunity to scribble this. Can hear all the church bells ringing. -This is a very nice country indeed. Every bit of land is cultivated -and there are tons of fruit of all kinds everywhere. The people here -are about the cleanest I have seen. They are all wild with joy to -think we are here helping them, and every single one tries to give us -something. We get more food, drinks, tobacco, smokes, and fruit than we -hardly know what to do with. It seems a bit funny to see the boys going -fighting with cigars on, but it’s a fact. Have a pocketful myself at -present: _Corpl. Tupper, 4th Hussars_. - - -Invited Out! - -I put on a clean shirt, washed, shaved, and regular brush-up. We -arrived at the house, or rather mansion, and were quite out of place, -as we thought, walking on polished tiles in the passage with our big, -heavy boots. It was a perfect slide. We took a seat by a big, round -table, had wine, cakes, tea, cigars and cigarettes. To our surprise, -this lady’s father was mayor of ----. The lady, whose husband was -with his regiment about eleven miles away, sang us two songs in -English--“The Holy City” and “Killarney.” It was a perfect treat to -have one’s legs under a table and drink from cups and saucers. Next day -we thought it was a dream: _Pte. Pakeman, Army Service Corps_. - - -Triumphant - -Since we landed here our march has been a triumphal one. Everywhere the -people received us with demonstrations of joy. When off duty we are -taken possession of by the townspeople and the French soldiers, and -fêted as though we had been lifelong friends. It is not uncommon to -see British and French soldiers walking about the streets arm-in-arm, -and the shopkeepers refuse to take money from our men. We are free to -take what we want in the way of fruit or wine, and some of the traders -are indignant even if you hint at payment. “Pay us in German coin when -you come back from Berlin,” is a favourite injunction. We have no -difficulty in making ourselves understood, for a surprising number of -the people know enough English to go on with, and men of the French -army are always ready to act as interpreters for us. The French troops -are delighted at the prospect of having British “comrades-in-arms.” I -was surprised to find that the average French “Tommy” is familiar with -the names of most of our regiments and our officers: _Lance-Corporal T. -Kelly_. - - -Thinking of Home - -You needn’t worry about us. We are more concerned about you at home, -and only hope that you are being well looked after in our absence. If -we find that our loved ones are not being cared for, we will never -forgive those responsible. That’s my little “grouse,” done with now, -and I can tell of the happy times we’re having here: _Anonymous_. - - - - -II. THINGS BY THE WAY - - _Hark! I hear the tramp of thousands, - And of armèd men the hum! - Lo! a nation’s hosts have gathered - Round the quick alarming drum, - Saying, “Come, - Freemen, come! - Ere your heritage be wasted,” said the quick alarming drum._ - - BRET HARTE. - - -The French people were like mothers to us, giving us food, money, and -wine. It is a pity to see them leaving their homes and having nowhere -to go: _Pte. W. Irwan, 1st East Lancashires_. - - -Safe! - -The refugees used to follow our troops, as they knew they would be -safe. The French people were very kind to us. They would have given -us their shirt if they thought we wanted it. They gave us plenty of -bread and cheese and wine and water: _Pte. W. Pallett, 2nd Royal Sussex -Regiment_. - - -Perfectly Happy - -I am in a little French village, halted for the day, and with a few -chums have found a house that has been left in a hurry all complete -with cooking-pots. I am preparing the supper, which smells all right, -but you should see the ingredients. I am perfectly happy, as this seems -the proper country for me, and I never felt better in my life. I am -picking up French all right, but I have not started eating frogs yet: -_Pte. T. Green, 5th Lancers_. - - -“Du Pain!” - -My chum and I came into a village one day, and we wanted to get some -bread and tobacco. We met a peasant woman in the village, and I said, -“Du pain.” She took me by the arm and led me into a house. She opened -a door and shoved me into a dark room. I couldn’t see where I was, and -thought it might be a dodge, so I waved for my chum, and he came in as -well. Then we noticed some food and a bottle of wine on the table: -_Pte. Hannah, Scottish Borderers_. - - -A Song of a Shirt - -I shall be a handy man soon. Yesterday I washed my only shirt. We were -allowed only one with us and one at the base. I have washed it twice a -month and used all my soap. Washing is a luxury, but I have managed a -couple of good swims. The worst part of yesterday’s washing was that -just as I had finished wringing it out orders came to move off, and I -have been all night shirtless, and it looks as though I shall be a day -or two without, because I have no opportunity of hanging it out to dry: -_A Private, of Bridlington_. - - -Like Rob Roy - -We are quartered in large caves alongside a château three hundred years -old. We occupy three caves, and a large fire is lighted in the middle -of each to purify the air and keep us warm at night. The nights are -bitterly cold and very damp. Incidentally it is fine to-day, but we -have had days of pouring rain--not that it affected our spirits in the -least. You should see us all clustered round our fires in the evening, -the flames lighting up at times the oval ceiling of the caverns and our -faces; we must look like bandits or Rob Roy’s boys: _A Lance-Corporal -of the London Scottish_. - - -On and Off - -We took turns on outpost duty--twenty-four hours on and twenty-four -off. We slept in the open with equipment and rifle, and had to stand to -arms an hour before dawn, about two o’clock. The reconnoitring patrols -got a feed at nearly every farm or house they passed. We didn’t see a -sign of Germans all the time, although the Uhlans were only a few miles -away. We had a decent time, and the people are the best I have met. -They think no one is as good as an Englishman, especially an English -soldier: _A Private of the Royal Marine Light Infantry_. - - -A Baby Bunting - -I heard a cry from an empty house, and when I went in I found a baby, -about eleven months old, lying crying in its nightgown. I brought the -youngster out. It was raining in torrents at the time, and I carried -it about five and a half miles. It was crying all the way, and I tried -to conceal it from our sergeant, but eventually he said I should be -obliged to put it down as we were going into action, so I laid it in -a hedge and covered it with some straw, hoping that someone would -soon find it and take care of it. It made me think of my own children: -_Bombdr. Stoddard, Royal Artillery_. - - -Early Piety - -What struck me most was the number of Boy Scouts smoking clay pipes! -They were only about six or seven years old, and they came up to us and -asked us if we’d like a chew of tobacco. They seemed to enjoy it too. -We were absolutely covered with flowers. All the horses were decorated -up. There were some lovely crops of wheat destroyed. You could tell all -the men were at the war. The women were in the fields bringing in the -harvest. Children seemed pleased to see us, and they would walk along -and hold our hands: _Sapper Magridge_. - - -Quiet and Restful - -We are having a very quiet, restful time in an old semi-fortified -farmhouse. The enemy has a very strong position directly ahead, and -until they are turned out we cannot move. Four motor-cyclists are -quartered in an old hen-house, the floor of which is covered with -straw; the perches come in very useful as clothes-racks. We are just -going to have dinner, consisting of mutton chops (killed last night), -potatoes, fried cheese, and bread and jam. We can occasionally get -eggs, but otherwise we live on bread and jam and stew made of tinned -meat and vegetables: _Dispatch-Rider Schofield, 5th Cavalry Brigade_. - - -On the Quiet! - -I can tell you it is a pucker rough life, for you have to get up as -soon as it begins to get light, and it is about one o’clock before -we can get down to it. You had better tell dad to volunteer for the -war, for it’s pucker exciting, and over here there is plenty of wine, -for every village we go through the people give us bottles of wine to -drink, and our regiment has been very jammy, for all the Germans do -when they see you is to shell you or run away, and when the shells -begin to hum it is time to gallop. Well, mum, I cannot tell you where -I am, as we are on the move every day, and if we did know, it must all -be kept secret, for we came out here on the quiet: _Pte. Clapinson, 3rd -Hussars_. - - -Sweetness--and Rain! - -This is a sweet place when it rains; you can’t get less than two -days’ rain at a time. I am now doing mounted orderly duty to and from -headquarters, four miles away. It’s a rotten ride back at night, -through pitch-black country, on your own. I can’t say I dislike this -country at all. The people treated us well on our way here. They -brought out baskets of fruit, bottles of wine, cakes, etc., to give -us, all shouting out, “Vive l’Angleterre!” and all the little children -walking along the street get hold of your hands and stroke them, as if -you were a prize dog or something: _Lance-Corpl. H. E. Forward, Army -Service Corps_. - - -Comfortable! - -We have had a good deal of marching--twenty to twenty-five miles per -day--on very little sleep; in bed by midnight and up by a quarter to -two. Last Saturday I think was the nearest to purgatory that I have -ever been. We marched about fifteen miles, and when we got to ---- we -were kept standing for four hours in a perfect deluge; some of us lay -down in the road in about a foot of mud. When the order came to march -on again we marched about another mile into a ploughed field and were -told to make ourselves “comfortable.” It was better in the road: _Pte. -R. Williams, Royal Army Medical Corps_. - - -Sucking Eggs! - -The French and Belgians have been extremely hospitable, and wherever -we go we have been received most generously--eggs, milk, wine, bread -and butter, jam, handkerchiefs, apples, pears, plums, coffee, etc., are -among the many gifts showered upon us as we ride through the various -towns. Picture us riding along, the great unwashed, and often unshaven, -being cheered by crowds of townspeople. I can best compare it to the -crowds of long ago when a circus procession came through Wakefield. I -have got quite expert at cracking eggs on the front of my saddle and -sucking them: _Sergt. Seed, 3rd King’s Hussars_. - - -To his Mother - -Well, Ma, I am, above all places, at Paris, and having a real good -time, and the reason I am here is that the general had an accident four -or five days ago through his horse stumbling and throwing him, and he -was sent to a hospital, and naturally I had to follow on with the car -to be ready to take him back to the front. Ye gods! it is good to be -amongst civilized people again, and be able to have a decent bath, for -I might tell you I was getting in a filthy state, having to go without -a wash or a shave for sometimes three days on end: you can bet that I -made up for it to-day. This morning I had an ordinary hot bath, and -this afternoon, to make doubly sure that all the uninvited visitors -were dead, I went to the English hospital and had a sulphur bath; -after that a visit to the barber, and I felt a new man: _A Private, of -Bristol_. - - -A Far Journey - -We entrained (our destination unknown) in cattle trucks, forty men in -each truck, penned in like sheep, and the only seats were the bottom -of the truck. It was awful, to say the least of it, but it turned -out rather a pleasant journey, as at every station we came to there -were people, both gentle and simple, waiting to give us a cheer, also -eatables, such as sandwiches and fruit of every description. It was -remarkable to see small banners of the Union Jack in almost every -hand, and shouting “Vive English,” while the troops replied with “Let -the sons of France march to glory,” which they seemed to know the -meaning of, as they joined in their own language. It was amusing to -see rather handsome girls giving kisses to us in exchange for a badge, -buttons, etc. They could not converse with us, but they conveyed their -meanings by signs, and a common one was curling their moustache and -drawing their hand across their throats, which meant we were to kill -the Kaiser, to which we answered by showing our jack-knives. It was the -same right through the five days’ journey; big and small stations alike -they fed us, and it was well they did, for we received no rations; we -were treated like gentlemen. I got a rosette of the French colours -from a lady, which I will treasure. The kindness of these people I -will never forget; they looked rather astonished at our accommodation -and surprised at our good spirits under the circumstances: _Pte. P. J. -Grace, 1st Northumberland Fusiliers_. - - -A River of Joy - -The trip we have just made was tremendously exciting. Although it was -night-time when we went up the river, this did not detract in the least -from the reception our men got. All the villagers turned out, fired -off crackers, and hung Chinese lanterns on the trees on the sides of -the hills. This had a very charming effect. Towards midnight, however, -a thick fog set in, and we were obliged to anchor till morning. The -fog cleared away about 6 A.M., and we found ourselves lying opposite -a small village which seemed to be deep in slumber. Not for long, -though. Our men began to sing “It’s a long, long way to Tipperary,” -“Rule, Britannia,” and “The girl I left behind me.” Window blinds went -up, windows were thrown open, and people came out on to the verandahs -in their “nighties” waving British flags, laughing and cheering and -singing. By Jove, it sounded fine. Just imagine, if you can, high -wooded slopes on each side, and this little village nestling amongst -the trees; the morning mist quickly rising to reveal a bright sunny -day, and you have it. One party of girls came down to the river-bank -and started singing in return in French, much to everyone’s amusement, -as it was easy to see they had just tumbled out of bed. The quayside -was very busy that day, as a large number of ships were all discharging -horses, men, guns, and all the munitions of war. The whole of the -population turned out, and as our men rode away in a never-ending line -one’s heart thrilled with pride, so businesslike and smart did they -look in their khaki, their bronzed faces giving them the appearance -of first-rate old campaigners, and inspiring everyone who saw them -with the greatest confidence. I have seen many soldiers of many -nationalities, but never soldiers who were a patch on those we are -sending across to fight our battles. Good fortune be with them, and God -bless them, is all I can say: _An Anonymous Sergeant_. - - - - -III. THE FRIENDLY FRENCH - - _And, having France thy friend, thou shalt not dread - The scatter’d foe that hopes to rise again...._ - - SHAKESPEARE. - - _We few, we happy few, we band of brothers; - For he to-day that sheds his blood with me - Shall be my brother...._ - - SHAKESPEARE. - - -I think I owe all my luck to a mascot I carry in my knapsack. It is a -beautiful crucifix, given to me by a Frenchwoman for helping her out of -danger. It is silver, enamel, and marble, and she made me take it: _A -Driver of the Royal Field Artillery_. - - -“A Sport” - -When waiting for action we smoked cigarettes and ate apples and pears -from the French orchard in which we were situated, while the good old -owner--he was a sport--brought us out some coffee at four o’clock in -the morning: _A Private, of Cricklewood_. - - -“Coo Naht” - -I am making progress with my French, and I am not often at fault. Every -time we go out people say “Good-night,” even if it is in the daytime, -as that is all the English they seem to know. Little children say “Coo -Naht”--that is the nearest they can get to the right pronunciation: -_Corpl. Fourneaux, Royal Engineers_. - - -So Hospitable! - -I was sent out one day with two chaps to search a wood and some houses -to see if any Germans were hiding. As soon as we approached, the people -(who had been hiding in cellars and other places), when they found -we were Britishers, simply hugged us. They brought out eggs, bread -and butter, and if we had stopped a bit longer it would have required -a horse and cart to carry the things away: _Pte. Gibson, Scottish -Fusiliers_. - - -The “Entente” - -I have never seen such enthusiasm. Old men, women, and children fight -in the streets to get close enough to shake hands with us, or beg -a piece of cloth or a button from our uniforms as mementoes of the -“Entente,” as they call it. At one village the women clamoured for -locks of hair from us, and they had to get them. Even the sick are -brought to the doors to see us pass: _A Private Soldier_. - - -Praise Indeed - -The French cavalry are wonderful, though we never will admit that -they are superior to ours. They never seem to tire. They will keep -in the saddle for days without trouble, and are used to foraging for -themselves wherever they go. In battle their bearing is magnificent. I -have seen a mere handful of them charge twenty times their own number -of Germans: _Pte. H. Hill, 4th (Royal Irish) Dragoon Guards_. - - -“A Blooming Nuisance” - -The French girls are awfully keen about our men, and you should see -them when we arrive in any of the towns. They come and link arms with -us until they are a blooming nuisance. It’s just goodness of heart, and -we don’t like to be chivying them off, so they usually get buttons, -badges, or anything they can beg off us just for a keepsake. We -couldn’t be better thought of: _Trooper W. Green_. - - -Brave Women - -The French people are very kind. They gave us everything before leaving -any one place. They told us to drink as much beer and wine as we wanted -and then to turn on the taps so that the Germans could not get any -when they came. I think the French women are braver than the men. They -brought us fruit into the firing line regardless of the shells and -bullets that were flying about: _Pte. T. Lacey, Lancashire Fusiliers_. - - -Only Water Left - -I feel sorry for the poor French. Be thankful you are living in -England! We passed through village after village on the march, and -there was not a living soul in the houses; doors and windows were -smashed open, and everything broken. We passed one house to which the -two women that lived in it had just returned after the Germans had -passed. As we passed they gave us a drink of water--that was the only -thing the Germans had left them: _Pte. Crombie, Argyll and Sutherland -Highlanders_. - - -“Good Sports” - -The French make a lot of us in camp, and when we pass each other in the -field, no matter how busy the Frenchmen may be, they give us hearty -cheers to encourage us on our way. There’s plenty of friendly rivalry -between us when there’s hard fighting to be done, and when we do get -there before the French they don’t grudge us our luck. They’re good -sports right through to the core, and the British soldier asks nothing -better from allies in the field: _Lance-Corporal E. Hood_. - - -“Give You Anything” - -The French are so good-natured they would give anything, even to the -last bit of bread in the house, to our people. To us invalids on -our way through Paris they gave a good reception, bringing grapes, -bananas, peaches, cigarettes, tobacco, and bouquets of flowers. They -are thundering good-natured. To our mounted men the poorer classes -would also bring out buckets of milk and of water, and the women would -come with their aprons full of fruit. They would give you anything: _A -British Gunner_. - - -Bearded like Pards - -What strikes you most in this country is the enthusiasm of the people -for their army. They have flocked to the colours by the thousand, and -I fancy the biggest problem here is what to do with the men when you -get them. Our own army looks small beside the French, but it is fit in -every way, and we hear its praises sung in strange places. Some of our -chaps look queer now that they have taken to letting their beards grow, -and you would not know them: _Private G. Busby_. - - -“Fag” Making - -We are always in the thick of it, and we are doing grand work. The -whistle of the shells is not exactly Tango music, but still the troops -are very cheerful. Most of the time we have had good weather, but just -now the rain is a bit troublesome. The behaviour of the French people -in the fighting area is wonderful. They are just splendid. It is very -difficult to get a smoke here, and when anyone strikes a match it is -amusing to see the rush. The British Tommies are getting quite expert -at “fag” making: _Pte. Kay, Northumberland Fusiliers_. - - -The Little Children - -The French “kiddies” all love the British Tommy, and would do anything -to have a ride on one of our shoulders or hold our hands, and they -stand on their heads with delight to receive a cap badge or something -as a souvenir. Their bacca, which they call “tabac,” is cruel, and -it costs more than English bacca in the long run, as it smokes so -quickly and you have to smoke all day to get a smoke, whereas our -bacca satisfies us in a minute or two. Their matches are horrible. -“Allumettes” they call them, and they are a hundred a penny, and you -have to wait half a minute for them to light and get asphyxiated in the -bargain: _A Private, from Mons_. - - -In Hospital - -All the other English wounded were sent to Havre, but somehow I got -in with the French, and am here with them now. It is rather awkward, -as I only know a few French words, but a French officer who has spent -a lot of time in England comes and talks to me, and one of the nurses -in another department knows our language and visits me whenever she -can. The officer before-mentioned calls me “his Englishman,” and feels -how strange it must be; he brings me English books and cigarettes, -and looks after me like a father. These buildings are Roman Catholic -schools and chapels, and stand in very nice grounds: _Lance-Corporal -Eccles_. - - -Well Pleased - -I have just had mother’s favourite potatoes and butter, French wine, -fish, and rum and coffee, and apples and eggs to take home. I must say -they are very nice people. They will do anything for you. It’s just -like being in England. The only difference is the language. We can’t -understand them, and they can’t us, but still we have done fine up -to the present. You can get plenty of beer, but I would not disgrace -myself with that, especially being on active service. I am very pleased -with the way the French have treated us. They are good-hearted people. -Don’t matter whom you see out, they all salute you, and the ladies bow -to you. What more could you wish for? _Pte. A. Rogers, Royal West Kent -Regiment_. - - -“Bonnie Fighters” - -One thing, we are safely on the road to victory, without a doubt, and -the gallant French army are doing great deeds. The town we are near -is properly deserted, for during the day the enemy are shelling the -surrounding country, and the villagers go up the hill into caves at -daybreak, and go back to town at night. The French folk treat us very -kindly, letting us use their wells and buckets to water our horses -with, and letting us have anything we want, but the one outstanding -difficulty is understanding what they say. Each regiment has an -interpreter, and when we want anything in town we have to go to him and -he puts us on the right road: _Corpl. Cadwell, Royal Engineers_. - - -“No Germany!” - -They are a fine lot of people, the French. They will give the British -troops anything. When we march through the streets men, women, and -children run to the doors and wave their hands, throw kisses, and all -that sort of thing. They are always pleased to see us, and in all cases -they have aprons and baskets of fruit of all kinds, which they give us -gratis. But the sight that touches the heart is to see the burning home -of some poor old peasant, who can ill afford to lose a copper coin. -But, believe me, the time is not far distant when there will be no -Germany, and all I can say is, “God send it soon and sudden”: _Pte. J. -R. Coates, Royal Fusiliers (City of London Regiment)_. - - -No Singing Birds - -A curious feature about this place is the almost complete absence of -birds. One never hears birds singing as in England. The result is that -the earth teems with spiders, etc., on which birds are accustomed to -feed. I was on guard at ---- during the past twenty-four hours, and -it was intensely interesting to chat with French Tommies who gathered -round our fire. They are frightfully “bucked” when they meet anyone -English with whom they can talk. A large number of the H.A.C. speak -French. For this reason, if for nothing else, the people here pay us a -good deal of attention. They are deadly keen on getting souvenirs. If -it is discovered that we have parted with our grenade or our shoulder -letters, our leave is stopped. At the place where we landed 5 francs -were offered for the letters “H.A.C.”: _A Member of the Honourable -Artillery Company_. - - -Quite Royal! - -The nearest approach to our reception in France is like what the King -got when he came to Notts. There are hundreds of chaps in England who -would give twenty years of their lives to get such a reception as we -get wherever we go. I should advise any chaps coming to France to bring -a corkscrew with them, because they will get loads of wine given them -by the French peasants--they can’t do enough for us. And the girls! -By Jove, there are some beauties--it’s Nottingham beauty over again. -Our greatest needs at the present time are English cigs., blankets, -and soap. I have only got thirty cigarettes left, and the chaps here -will give anything from 1d. to 6d. for a cigarette. They are far more -valuable than money. Another thing which is valuable is water. Water is -more scarce than petrol. We have to walk about half a mile for water, -and then it’s not very good. We’re not afraid of washing after one -another in the same water. I’ve seen about a dozen wash in one bucket -of water.... The French soldiers do look funny in red trousers and blue -coats, compared with our khaki suits. Half our chaps are minus badges -and buttons, which the French girls have taken as souvenirs--I got a -little doll off one girl when we were at Rouen. I might mention that -hardly any of the chaps have any money--I’ve got the large sum of 2½d.: -_Pte. F. Smith, Army Service Corps_. - - - - -IV. THE ENEMY GERMAN - - _Smite, England, to the tramp of marching men-- - The rhythmic heart-heat of a world in pain-- - Smite, hip and thigh, with flashing steel, and then - Unfurl thy peaceful banners once again._ - - HORACE ANNESLEY VACHELL. - - _Oh, Polly love, oh, Polly, the rout has now begun, - And we must march along by the beating of the drum; - Go dress yourself in your best and come along with me: - I’ll take you to the war that’s in High Germany._ - - OLD ENGLISH SONG. - - -I have spoken to several prisoners who could speak English, and with no -exception they all thought or were told that the British troops were no -good at fighting--that it was only niggers we could face. They have got -a different view by now: _Sergt. Dickson, Coldstream Guards_. - - -“Mister Bull!” - -The Germans seem to have gone mad entirely, and are running about like -bulls in a china-shop, playing havoc with everything that comes their -way. Our business is to wait around until Mister Bull gets properly -tired, and then we will lead him off by the nose in proper style: -_Lance-Corporal E. Twomey_. - - -Not Suited to It - -The Germans aren’t really cut out for this sort of work. They are -proper bullies, who get on finely when everybody’s lying bleeding at -their feet, but they can’t manage at all when they have to stand up -to men who can give them more than they bargain for: _Corporal J. -Hammersley_. - - -Christian - -Not all Germans are cruel. On the Aisne I was lying for hours wounded. -A German came along and bound up my wound under heavy fire. When he had -made me ship-shape he was going to clear off, but a stray bullet caught -him, and he fell dead close beside me: _A Private of the Black Watch_. - - -A Doubting Doctor - -A big German surgeon came to me and said, “You don’t like to fight -against us, do you?” I replied we did not care whom we fought so long -as it was for the good of our country. “But you would rather not fight -with us?” he said. “No fear,” I replied, and then he left me saying -“Bravo”: _A Captured Corporal_. - - -X-Rayed - -The Germans are bad fighters. They rely on their big guns to do their -work. They won’t come out to fight you with their rifles.... I have -seen three big battles, and got hit in the fourth one. Hard lines, -isn’t it? I have the bullet in my foot yet, but I must wait for my -turn, as there are a lot waiting to be X-rayed: _Lance-Corporal G. -Percy_. - - -Took the “Bully” - -We got caught in a wood, where I was wounded. When the fire stopped the -Germans came to us and pinched everything we had. We drew five francs -the day before, the only pay-day we had had out here, and the beggars -stole the lot. They even sat down in front of us and tucked into the -“bully” they had done us down for: _Pte. Blissenden, Grenadier Guards_. - - -“Roll on, London!” - -One German prisoner says, “I don’t want to fight. Roll on, London.” I -suppose he was a waiter in some of the London hotels. Some of them look -pitiful sights. They are starved, and when they come here they are all -well looked after. They say they are glad it is the British who have -taken them. They know the French would not give them much. They have -good reason too: _An Aberdeen Reservist of the Royal Field Artillery_. - - -Captured Uhlans - -The Uhlan prisoners created some amusement as they were being marched -along, for, as they are not used to marching, and were wearing great -jack-boots, it nearly kills them, but they were pushed along by the -infantry. While the Uhlans were thus being urged along the Frenchwomen -tried to get at them and shouted to the soldiers to cut their throats. -Fortunately for the prisoners, they were strongly guarded: _A Gunner of -the Royal Field Artillery_. - - -Grave-digging - -We were told off to bury German dead, but we couldn’t get through, -there were so many, and we sent into their lines under a flag of truce -to ask if they would come out and help. They sent a lot of men out, -and they were quite friendly. They were well supplied with cigars, -which they most likely looted from some French houses, and they offered -us some, which we were glad of: _Pte. Brady, Irish Rifles_. - - -A Barber in Lambeth - -I went to a village by motor with an officer to dress some German -wounded, about forty all told. I was doing two German brothers, and -they spoke very good English. One said, “Where are your good people -going to send us?” I replied that I thought they would be sent to -England, and he said, “That’s good. I hope it will be somewhere near -Lambeth Walk, for I have a barber’s shop there, and then my wife can -come and see me”: _Pte. Flaxman, Army Medical Corps_. - - -Berlin “Nuts” - -I am writing this on a lady’s glove-box. I picked it up here, but how -it got here God only knows. These German officers are awful “nuts,” and -carry as many beautifiers as an actress on tour. They use their gloves -for another purpose. They put a bullet or stone in the finger of a -loose glove and flick the ears of their men. We found a wounded German -who had been a clerk in London. His ears were extra large and were both -swollen and skinned by the flicks he had got from his officers: _Pte. -F. Burton, of the Bedfords_. - - -“Collies?” - -It’s my opinion that you couldn’t find greater collies between the -seven seas of the world than these Germans, not if you were to walk -about for a month of Sundays, with all their bragging and bantering -and bullying of the plucky little Belgians, and any Christian might -be ashamed to use our wounded the way these sausage-faced German pigs -used them. The “parley-voos” treated us right decently from the first -day that ever we set foot in their country: _A Private of the Connaught -Rangers_. - - -The Track of the Huns - -One of the worst features of the war has been to witness the plight of -the refugees in the stricken countries. I have seen many a strong man -in our ranks with tears in his eyes when we have passed poor women and -children flying from their homes, their only food being that which our -soldiers gave them. Every village through which the Germans had passed -in their retirement was practically blown to pieces. It is also tragic -to see thousands of acres of corn and vines rotting, with no one to -gather them in: _Sergt. Walker, King’s Liverpool Regiment_. - - -Got the Guns - -The Germans seem to think that you can catch Irish soldiers with -fly-papers, for they just stepped up the other day and called on us to -surrender as bold as you like, and bolder. We didn’t waste any words in -telling them to go about their business, but we just grabbed hold of -our bayonets and signed to them to come on if they wanted anything, but -they didn’t seem in a hurry to meet us. After a bit they opened fire -on us with a couple of Maxims, but we just fixed bayonets and went for -the guns with a rush. They appear to be delicate boys indeed, and can’t -stand very much rough usage with the bayonet. We got their guns: _Pte. -E. Ryan, Royal Munster Fusiliers_. - - -“Made in Germany” - -The first thing we saw was what looked like a big black screen rolling -up and blotting out the countryside. It turned out that the screen -was the German motor-cars. I must tell you that they never marched -until they got near to the firing line. They filled the cars with men, -as thick as they could stick. Then another batch would sit on the -shoulders of the others, and a third lot on theirs. Straight, it struck -me as so funny the first time I saw it. I was reminded of a troupe of -acrobats on the halls: _A Private of the Middlesex Regiment_. - - -“Over the Shoulder” - -They don’t like steel, those Germans. I threw three of them -consecutively over my shoulder on the point of the bayonet, and the -very next moment a shrapnel shell burst right on my rifle. How I -escaped with what I’ve got I don’t know. All the shell did was to blow -my rifle to smithereens and the tips of my trigger and next two fingers -off. The doctor says it’s only the tips gone. That’s good, as I shall -have enough to pull the trigger with again, and if that fails there’s -the “over-the-shoulder touch,” which is more than enough for the -Germans: _A Scots Guardsman, at Mons_. - - -No Chocolates - -It is pitiful to see the innocent women and little children driven from -their humble homes to trek to different parts of France, literally -starving on the road. And when they return they will find that their -only shelters have been burned to the ground. I see in the papers that -English people have been giving chocolate and cigarettes to the German -prisoners, and, I daresay, every comfort they require. Yet a few weeks -ago the same men were robbing, looting, and causing grief and anxiety -in this country! Instead of giving them cigarettes and chocolates, -English people should distribute the money amongst the wives and -families whose husbands and fathers will never return: _Gunner E. -Tyler, of Bristol_. - - -Kill or Wound? - -One of the German soldiers captured by the Lancashires observed, “You -shoot to kill; we fire from the hip, and only want to wound.” On a -German officer who was made prisoner a diary was found in which was -entered the advice: “Do not face the British troops when entrenched; -their fire is murderous. First sweep the trenches with artillery fire.” -One of the German methods of finding the range with their big guns is -to heap up the corpses of their fallen men, and thus, when the Allied -troops advance, their distance from the batteries can accurately be -gauged: _A Private in the Coldstreams_. - - -A Lucky Escape - -The devils came into the village and said the poor people were hiding -English soldiers. They then set the houses on fire, and I could see the -flames coming my way. I managed to get out before the stack took fire, -only to run into the arms of three of the Germans. They were as drunk -as they could be, and I soon got out of their grips. If two of them are -alive their mothers will not know them. But I was caught a little later -by two more of them. I thought it was all over with me, when one of -them was shot dead by one of our chaps who was hiding. I didn’t know he -was there, and you may imagine my feelings when he came running to me. -We got away, but we should have been riddled if they had been sober: _A -Trooper of the 11th Hussars_. - - -False Bugle-calls - -We found the Germans continually sounding our bugle-calls for the -purpose of deceiving our men, and one of our worst fights took place at -a place I can’t tell you the name of, because the Germans sounded the -retreat for one of our advanced battalions, and then it was attacked in -murderous fashion as it deployed across the open in the belief that it -was being ordered to fall back. For a time that threw the whole line -into confusion, but we soon got right again, and drove the Germans off -in fine style with the bayonet. After that bugle-calls were dispensed -with, but the Germans soon “tumbled” to that and took to picking off -the dispatch-riders who were sent with orders. In that way it happened -that bodies of men never got their orders to retreat or advance, and -that’s why some of our regiments got cut up here and there: _A Private -of the 18th Royal Irish Regiment_. - - -A Tell-tale Diary - -I found this diary on a German officer we had captured: - -July 20: At last the day! To have lived to see it! We are ready. Let -him come who may. The world race is destined to be German. - -August 11: And now for the English, used to fighting farmers. To-night -William the Greater has given us beautiful advice. You think each -day of your Emperor. Do not forget God. His Majesty should remember -that in thinking of him we think of God, for is he not the Almighty’s -instrument in this glorious fight for right? - -August 20: The conceited English have ranged themselves up against us -at absurd odds, our airmen say. - -August 25: An English shell burst on a Red Cross wagon to-day. Full -of English. Ha! ha! serve the swine right. Still, they fight well. I -salute the officer who kept on swearing at Germany and her Emperor in -his agony. And then to ask calmly for a bath. These English! We have -hardly time to bury our own dead, so they are being weighted in the -river: _Pte. Crow, 2nd Seaforth Highlanders_. - - - - -V. CAMPAIGNING IN GENERAL - - _What of the faith and fire within us - Men who march away - Ere the barn-cocks say - Night is growing grey, - To hazards whence no tears can win us; - What of the faith and fire within us - Men who march away?_ - - THOMAS HARDY. - - -It is a rough life, getting food the best way you can, and cooking it -all ways. One morning we were cooking some rabbits and the Germans -surprised us, so we had to leave quick: _Corpl. Prickard, 11th Hussars_. - - -Wanted a Hat! - -I have lost another horse. A piece of shell caught it, and another took -my hat off, so I have a big French sun-hat now for headgear until I can -find one lying about somewhere: _A Trooper of the 15th Hussars_. - - -A Day in Bed - -There is one thing I would appreciate as much as anything just at -present, and that is a day’s sleep in bed. We have not undressed for a -month, and a little straw under some cover is considered a luxury: _A -Private of M Section, B Signal Company_. - - -Lost! - -If we lay down on the road we fell asleep at once, but if Germans got -wind of us they were on top of us before we could get to sleep. We -just lived on pears and apples, and eventually fell in with a party of -French cavalry, who shared their bread with us: _A Sergeant in an Irish -Regiment_. - - -Looked After - -I am in the best of health and am getting plenty of food. We get bacon -for breakfast, corned-beef stew for dinner, cheese and jam for tea and -supper, plenty of tea and sugar, and at four o’clock every morning -a half-quartern of rum, so you see they look after us all right: -_Lance-Corpl. Feeley, 1st Dorsetshire Regiment_. - - -“Have You a Light?” - -We keep a fire or candle going all day and night specially for lighting -“fags” and pipes. If on the move we keep a lantern on the go, so if you -could send me a good substantial pipe-lighter (I don’t care how much it -costs) it will be the best turn you have ever done to the army, and I -shall be in great demand: _Sergt. Horwell, Royal Artillery_. - - -Don’t Know! - -It’s fighting and marching every day. There was a majority of us that -thought it would be over by this time, but I am afraid that it will -last a lot longer than what one thought. We get no news here at all, -and we don’t even know where we are stationed; they won’t tell us -anything: _Pte. E. Lawrence, Bedfordshire Regiment_. - - -The Cannon’s Roar - -Townsmen who are used to the noise and roar of streets can stand it -better than the countrymen, and I think you will find that by far the -fittest men are those of regiments mainly recruited in the big cities. -A London lad near me says it’s no worse than the roar of motor-buses -and other traffic in the City on a busy day: _Sergeant-Major McDermott_. - - -Hard Lines - -We had been two days and nights in the rain and were soaking to the -skin. My section was told off to hold a farm till we got the order to -retire, but to burn it before we retired. I was in a hay-loft setting -fire to it when the floor gave way and I was sent flying through to the -ground below, and I could not get up. It was hard lines: _Private R. -McBride_. - - -Roughing It! - -I am laid on my stomach on a barn floor writing this with the light of -a candle I am lucky enough to get hold of. As I write this I can hear -our big guns firing; in fact, they fairly shake the place I am in. We -are just going to turn into some nice dry straw, and have a well-earned -sleep. Talk about roughing it: a man that gets through this can get -through anything at all: _Trooper Stephenson, 18th Hussars_. - - -A Sing-song - -Every night round the camp-fire we have our photos out--that is, if -we have any--then we have a song. The favourites are “Never Mind” and -“The Last Boat is Leaving for Home.” The French people gave us a great -welcome when we came here, and they have kept it up in every town and -village we have come through: _A Private of the 2nd Royal Scots_. - - -One Blessing - -We are a rough lot out here, and washing and shaving are things of the -past. The roof we sleep under is large--the sky--and the rain comes -through very often. Our shirts we change when they wear out. You must -not worry too much if there are very long lapses between the letters, -as we can’t always write. It’s a game of dodging shells here. There is -one blessing: we get plenty of food, and they are looking after us the -best they can: _Sergt. Prout, South Wales Borderers_. - - -Not Worrying - -I’m doing and going as I’m told, not worrying, but taking things as -they come. I’ve slept in barns, wool stores, cinemas, casinos, dock -sheds, and for a bit had the stars as a counterpane. The fighting has -been very fierce and close; as one pal said, “Oh! ain’t it ’ot?” We -have been outnumbered, sometimes 10,000 to 2000, but our boys stick to -them, and have played havoc with their “mass formations.” The Maxims -have cut them down like corn, and when we charge with fixed bayonets -see ’em run like rats. They will get no quarter from our “mob”: _Pte. -Bromfield, Royal Engineers_. - - -Scrap Iron - -We were kept on the go for a week, day and night, with hardly a wink of -sleep. What we did get was just lying down and dozing off, sometimes -in the road, and sometimes in a ditch. We raided a convoy. Bacon, -biscuits, sugar, and jam all came to us. The wagons were simply packed -up. I think we had about 150 lb. of bacon between four of us. We -marched all that night, and in the morning we collected a few sticks -and started to make tea and fry a few rashers, when they opened fire on -us, and 15 lb. of scrap iron interrupted our meal: _Gunner J. Talboys, -Royal Field Artillery_. - - -Not Swept Away Yet - -The other day we were off in pursuit of a body of infantry, and when we -overtook them they simply flung themselves down on the ground and let -us ride over them. Then, when we came back, they surrendered. Some of -them were so dead beat that they could not run away, not even if they -had wanted to, and that seems to be true of their men everywhere. Some -of them have had their fill of fighting and marching by this time, and -I do not blame them, for they got it hot in the fighting with us since -the third week of August, when they came along to sweep us into the -sea: _A Trooper of the 3rd Hussars_. - - -From the Hip - -The Germans have a funny way in fighting. Their infantry when advancing -fire from the hip and come on in masses, splendid targets for our guns. -As soon as one lot gets mowed down the gaps are filled up with fresh -men. They are in terrible numbers--about ten to one in some places. -Nearly all the men’s wounds are shrapnel, and heal wonderfully. Men -almost cripples a day or two ago are going on splendidly since being -treated here. My worst wound is on the right arm, a piece of flesh torn -away, but with good dressing it should heal up well: _Bombardier A. E. -Smith_. - - -A Cupboard Skeleton - -Two Royal Irish Fusiliers picked me up and took me to a farm, where -there were other three wounded. That night we heard somebody prowling -round the farm, and thinking they might be the enemy, the Irish -Fusiliers hid in a large cupboard, where they would be able to make -a good attack. We hadn’t long to wait, and a small party of German -infantry came in--on a looting expedition, likely. The men in the -cupboard accounted for three, and the others yelled and ran. The farmer -and his wife got scared, and they disappeared: _Pte. Cunningham, 8th -Northumberland Fusiliers_. - - -Food for Powder - -The impression we got was that the Germans have so many men available -at the point where they deliver an attack that, as soon as one body -gets tired out or shows signs of losing its nerve under fire, it is -recalled to the rear and replaced by fresh men, who are brought up in -motors and all sorts of vehicles. The used-up men are then taken away, -and very likely they come on again after a rest. That’s an altogether -new way of fighting, but I fancy the Germans go on the principle that -“enough’s as good as a feast” in what they get from our rifle fire: _A -Private of the Manchester Regiment_. - - -Not Good Shots - -You have read about their famous Uhlans. They are worth nothing. When -we have come close to them they have always turned round. We are just -wanting to get them to charge. They are very hard to tell from a -distance because they are very much like ourselves. I am just getting -settled down to it now. If the Germans were good shots I would not be -writing to you now, but I must say their artillery fire is very hot. It -is that which has found most of our fellows. The people here can’t do -enough for us. They simply go mad when they see us: _A Trooper of the -9th Lancers_. - - -Adam without an Eden - -I got made prisoner along with Sergeant-Major H---- of ours. We did -not think we should ever see England again, as they made us strip -every mortal stitch off our bodies so that we could not escape. At the -time they were being hardly pressed by our troops. But in the middle -of the night we made a cut for it. We got away, and after wandering -about absolutely naked, not even a fig-leaf (a lifetime it seemed, but -really about a couple of hours), we fell in amongst a French division -of infantry, and they clothed and fed us in no time and put us on the -right way: _A Trooper of the Dragoon Guards_. - - -The Enviable “Terriers” - -I read in one of the papers that some of the “Terriers” in England -have to put up with the inconvenience of sleeping three in one bed. I -feel sorry for them. Some of us would be glad to get a bundle of straw -sometimes. There is one thing, up to the present, we have been having -plenty of grub and a tot of rum nearly every night, which no doubt you -will guess we refuse. We get tobacco issued to us, but are very short -of fag-papers. A couple of packets would come in very handy: _Gunner -Richards, Royal Artillery_. - - -Pea-shooters - -At one place we had a surprise attack. We were just getting ready for -some food, when all of a sudden shells started bursting around us. I -can tell you it was a case of being up and doing. Dixies and tea-cans -were flung on one side, our tea spilt, fires put out, and the order -given to stand to our guns and horses, everyone to prepare for action. -Still, we were not to be caught napping. Our boys only close one eye -when we get a chance of a sleep, so you can tell we were wide-awake by -the fact that it was a case of do or die. Our gallant boys, the Guards, -held them at bay until our death-dealing pea-shooters put them to -flight: _Driver Clark, Royal Artillery_. - - -Had “To Nip” - -Two Germans had a pop at me one day when I was crossing a ploughed -field, but they might as well have tried to shoot the moon. I have had -some narrow escapes from shells--they were German shells, or I should -not be writing this now. We laugh at them sometimes. The Germans don’t -like steel--although we have not done much in that line. We play on a -different line to that. We like to catch ’em napping, and we have done -it, too, but, of course, they have had our fellows the same. It would -make you laugh to see how we dodge the shells and nip under cover for -all we are worth. We had to scatter one night just when I was making -some tea. I was just going to put the tea and sugar into the boiling -water when bang they came just overhead, and I had to nip: _Corpl. -Newman, Somerset Light Infantry_. - - -“Fairly Well” - -While I am writing this letter I am cooking the dinner, boiling a piece -of bacon we managed to get and potatoes. I have been elected cook on -our car. I expect you will say it is just like me to be among the grub. -Anyway, we are getting plenty of it now. We get our day’s rations every -morning--one rasher of bacon, one tin of bully beef, one pot of jam -(between five), a piece of cheese, so much tea and sugar, and so much -bread, when we can get it; if we have not bread we get biscuits. We get -plenty of potatoes out of the fields, and sometimes make what we call -bully-beef stew. It is very nice, and consists of bully beef, potatoes, -carrots, and onions--all boiled together. Sometimes we get fresh meat, -so you see we are living fairly well: _Pte. Calvert, Army Service -Corps_. - - -Rained on - -We struck our tents this afternoon and then the rain came down. It -is eight o’clock now and the rain is still steadily driving down. I -suppose you imagine that you can picture the discomfort, but I bet -you can’t. As a help, however, I will give you a few details. We -have had to erect the tent in the pouring rain, which means that the -floor-boards are soaked, and each one has to find a little dry oasis -for himself, and there aren’t many dry places left when nine fellows -have to be crowded in. Now the tent-cloth is soaked through and little -streams of water are trickling across the floor, while miniature -cascades are dancing merrily down the walls: _Lance-Corpl. J. W. James, -Royal Fusiliers_. - - -Quagmires and “Mug Racks” - -A German device that is new to me is the making of quagmires in front -of the trenches, usually by digging extra trenches a few hundred feet -from the real ones, throwing in the loose clay, and then flooding -them so that you get a ditch of liquid mud. One day a French infantry -detachment was advancing finely against the German position until they -stumbled into one of these bogs, and just as they were stuck fast they -were treated to a hail of fire. Barbed-wire entanglements are ten times -worse than what we found in South Africa. Usually they are hidden away -in the long grass, and you don’t see them until they catch you in the -legs and bring you down. However, we’re getting up to the dodge. Now we -call the wires “mug racks,” because it’s only the “mugs” who get caught -in them: _A Private of a Scots Regiment_. - - -Cave-dwellers - -We are like brigands at large in a cave, but one thing spoils it--that -is, these blooming shells. The guns are only from six to eighteen -hundred yards off, but we cannot see them on account of their being -like ours, so cleverly concealed, and our aeroplanes cannot find them, -although if they go over it is ten to one they are heavily fired at, -but with them being so high it is impossible to see anything. We, -the machine gunners, are rather lucky, as we draw our rations from -the cooker where they are at present in the village, and then take -them to our house that we have, and where the corporal in charge of -the limber stays. He acts as cook, and we have bully stews, marrows, -walnuts, turnips, and different things, and plenty of potatoes: _Pte. -H. Tesseyman, Coldstream Guards_. - - -Contour Maps - -It is my opinion, although, of course, I have no authority for it, -that the German artillery have been supplied with contour maps of the -route to Paris, with the ranges marked from hill to hill. Directly they -reached an incline and faced us on another they let fly right on top -of us straight away. They certainly had not time to find the range by -the ordinary methods. I was wounded by a bullet from a shrapnel. It is -very poor stuff, and very ineffective. The bullet that hit me ought -ordinarily to have gone right through my hand. I lay for about an hour -and a half on some corn, with the shrapnel bursting over me all the -time. The bullets were absolutely spent, and when they dropped on my -clothes they only singed them; others I stopped with my hands as they -fell: _Quartermaster-Sergt. Hinton, 17th Batt. Royal Field Artillery_. - - -A Disturbed Dinner - -Two days ago, our troop, consisting of twenty-eight men, was billeted -in a farmyard. We were trying our best to make up a bit of a dinner -by collecting potatoes, carrots, etc., when a shell struck the roof -of the building and set it on fire. Fortunately the only casualty was -a wounded horse, although several of the men got shaken up a bit. The -only thing that worried us was that we lost our dinners, because I can -tell you we had to get out of it quickly--it was a bit too warm for -Tommy Atkins. The country here is thick with woods, which makes it -very dangerous for cavalrymen. We are fighting side by side with the -French troops and we get on very well together. Lots of them speak good -English: _Pte. Martin, 16th Lancers_. - - -Petrol Power - -The war is a petrol war. Every thing is done by machinery, and victory -is to the man who has the most petrol. One is much impressed by this. -The aeroplanes have by now rendered ordinary scouts obsolete. They go -ahead of us and find out everything about the Germans. One hears the -hum of their engines daily. It was quite exciting at one place when -three of our planes chased a very fast German one. One of our fellows -put a bullet through his petrol tank, forced him to come down, and made -him prisoner. We make war in a most extraordinary way nowadays. The -other day ---- and I met at headquarters and had a cup of tea together -during an hour I had off. He said he felt mischievous and would love to -have a go at some Uhlan patrols who were only about a dozen miles off. -So he jumped into his car and drove off. A few hours later he returned -to have a first-class dinner at an hotel near headquarters, having -killed a Uhlan and nearly taken two more prisoners: _A Dispatch-Rider_. - - -“Crackers!” - -I expect the Germans thought they had a snip. Their army is very -poorly looked after. You can’t help feeling sorry for some of the poor -beggars--they are almost starved to death, and give themselves up in -scores. This war is nothing but an artillery duel, and the country for -miles is very wooded, which makes it harder for us, because we cannot -see them till we are almost on top of them, and then they have first -plonk at us. The Kaiser’s crack regiment, the Prussian Guards, went -crackers before we were out a fortnight. There was a pretty dust-up. We -caught them coming across an open field. We let them come within 200 -yards of us, and then we let go. We almost wiped them clean out. It -was an awful sight when we finished. Those who weren’t killed ran for -their lives. I expect they are in Berlin by now: _Private R. Homewood_. - - -A Near Shave - -I was out with the Austin car convoying three motor-lorries with -supplies for a cavalry brigade, when we were pounced upon by a bunch of -German cavalry, who took us prisoners, and took everything I had except -the clothes I was wearing. All our men, twenty in number, including an -officer, were put back to a wall and kept there with an armed guard. I -was made to turn the motor round. They put eight Germans in the car, -and I had an officer with a revolver pointing at my head standing on -the step. They then made me reconnoitre the villages for two hours, -looking for the positions of the British troops, which they did not -find, but they went mighty close at one time. Upon returning to the -same spot we were put in the middle of a line of German cavalry, about -6000 strong, and taken up a steep hill to a plateau on top. As soon as -it became daylight they were spotted by our cavalry and artillery, who -made short work of them; but they kept us right in their fighting line -to the very last, when they bolted and left us: _Private H. L. Simmons, -of Addlestone_. - - -“Poor Old Bones!” - -I look an awful picture. My clothing is torn to shreds. I have lost all -my buttons, and it is dreadful cold at nights, but I cuddle up against -the horses for warmth. Our horses are terrified, mad, but my two seem a -bit at ease when I lie down beside them at night. If I leave them for -a minute there is no pacifying them. You would die of laughing if you -saw me now. I am writing this across the horse’s belly. He is too tired -to rise, but he gives me such knowing looks at times. He is a proper -chum. He is a grey, and you should see the mess I have made trying to -discolour him. He has tar mixed with moss rubbed over him. Every kind -of dust and dirt I could get has been rubbed on him. I have to laugh -when I look at him, and the officer this morning nearly had a fit. Of -course, there is a humorous side to everything. We would never live if -there wasn’t. The noise is deafening. You can’t hear your mate speak -unless he shouts in your ear. The bursting of the shells is appalling, -but poor old “bones” lies here as if he was in the stable at home. He -is dead beat, and so am I, but there is no actual rest here; it is only -a lull: _A Private of the Scots Greys_. - - - - -VI. BATTLES IN BEING - - _And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves, - Dewy with Nature’s tear-drops as they pass, - Grieving, if aught inanimate e’er grieves, - Over the unreturning brave,--alas! - Ere evening to be trodden like the grass...._ - - BYRON’S: “Childe Harold.” - - _For the Colonel rides before, - The Major’s on the flank, - The Captains and the Adjutant - Are in the foremost rank. - But when it’s “Action front!” - And fighting’s to be done, - Come one, come all, you stand or fall - By the man who holds the gun._ - - SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE. - - -I got a biscuit from Tibby Tennant, and was eating it when I got shot. -M‘Phail was beside me, and dressed my wounds as well as he could: _Pte. -Clark, Highland Light Infantry_. - - -Unexpected - -I will tell you of a cute trick of our gunners. They got a lot of empty -wagons and put them in a wood. The Germans, seeing them, thought they -were our guns put out of action. They rushed out for them, and our -artillery did not half scatter them, killing about four hundred: _Pte. -Brown, Loyal North Lancashire Regiment_. - - -Turpinite - -I saw some of the effects of turpinite, the wonderful French explosive, -used in this war for the first time. I saw a trench full of dead -Germans killed by it. They were standing right up in the trenches -looking as though they were still alive: _Pte. Thompson, 2nd Dragoon -Guards_. - - -Took Off the Roof! - -I was standing within 50 yards of a house one day when a shell came -and took the roof clean off; you could see the cups on the table quite -plain; a clean sweep. I counted about thirty shells drop around us the -same day in half an hour; we had only two horses and a man shot: _Tpr. -C. McCarthy, 4th Hussars_. - - -Lancashire! - -Fellows were being knocked out all round, and wounded were crying -for help. Frequently one would say to his neighbour, “Bill, how’s ta -gettin’ on?” but Bill, who had been as cheery as a cricket just before, -was found to be picked off. Our ranks were so thinned that by the time -we got within charging distance of the enemy’s trenches we had not -sufficient men left for the charge: _Pte. Harvey, North Lancashire -Regiment_. - - -Up Aloft! - -All our troops blamed the German aeroplanes for the heavy loss which -we sustained. It did not matter where we went to try and get an hour’s -sleep, there would be an aeroplane over us. The Germans dropped a -little disc--a sort of long tape--from their aeroplanes, about twenty -yards in front of our trenches, and shortly after the Germans would -start shelling us. I think it is mostly the aeroplanes which enable -them to get our range so accurately as they do: _A Private of the -Manchester Regiment_. - - -His Own Back - -We were only 300 yards from a battery of German “death screechers,” -which naturally opened fire into us, doing great damage. We soon -silenced them, though. Worked round their flank and picked off the -gunners. Please don’t think I am boasting, but I picked off eight. I -had a splendid position. I was firing three hours before they hit me -seriously. When I was hit I didn’t care; my rifle was smashed to atoms -by a shell, but I was gloriously happy, having got my own back before -being put out of action: _A Private of the Sussex Regiment_. - - -Sleep Through Anything - -The Germans keep firing away by night as well as day, and that gives -them a big pull over us, because the men in our lines find it hard to -sleep with the continual shelling. Firing from your own lines doesn’t -affect you in the same way, so that it doesn’t keep the Germans awake -unless we bombard them. Men without sleep are not nearly so fit for -fighting the next day. Not all of our chaps are kept awake. There are -some who could sleep through anything: _Gunner Dyson, Royal Artillery_. - - -“Lucky, Considering” - -My company was advancing on a wood from which the Germans were picking -off our men. We were lying down firing, when from the wood was shouted, -“Stop it, you are firing on your own men.” Someone said, “Cease fire,” -and we did. Then a very hot fire came at us from the wood. My left-hand -man was shot through the stomach, and then my right-hand man was -shot through the head. It was a German who had shouted to us. Then a -shell, a 96-pounder, burst over us, and a piece of it took away from -me a large piece of my left side. I am lucky, considering: _Pte. J. -Sullivan, South Lancashires_. - - -Nothing Wasted - -We killed a tremendous number of them, and owing to their massed -formation they were practically standing up dead in front of us. It -just suited us to be plugging at them. They came on as if they thought -they had nothing to do but take the lot of us, but they were surprised -to find that they could not do so. The Germans shoot promiscuously, -believing that their shots must hit someone. They had not the same -chance of hitting us, and rarely attempted to pick out their man before -they shot. I should think that in three days I fired between five -hundred and six hundred rounds of ammunition, and we did not waste any; -every shot was meant for someone: _Private P. Case_. - - -Those Uhlans - -We were attacked by a brigade of German cavalry--Uhlans. We got out of -the trenches and prepared to receive their attack. I caught the first -horse with my bayonet, causing it to swerve so suddenly to the right -that the Uhlan was pitched on his head, breaking his neck, I fancy, but -not before I heard a sword whizz past my head. I did not feel at all -comfortable. I also caught the second horse, but he got his hoof on -my left foot, and I felt something on my chest throwing me on to the -ground. What happened afterwards I don’t know, as I was unconscious for -the next thirty-six hours: _Sergt. Gibson, Sussex Regiment_. - - -Stonewalling! - -The fighting was hard at times, but only really terrible when you were -groping about in the dark exposed to heavy rifle or artillery fire -without the least suspicion of where it was coming from at the moment -or likely to come from next. Later, when we had settled down to the -work and could see what we were up against, it was child’s play, so to -speak, and all you had to do was to lie in the trenches and pick the -Germans off as you saw them coming on to the attack. And to pick them -off is just like taking shots at a stone-finished wall. You can’t help -hitting something, and every time you hit you are taking chips off the -wall: _A Private of the Loyal North Lancashire Regiment_. - - -The Way of It - -The shrapnel shells of the Germans were bursting over the trenches -where we were lying, and I was struck in the foot with a piece of -shell, which took the sole of my boot clean off. Five minutes later, -when I was trying to help a fellow near me who had been hit in the -shoulder, I was struck in the right thigh by a pellet from a shrapnel -shell. I fired one more shot after that. I aimed for the driver of a -German machine gun and hit him. This was my first experience of actual -fighting, and I can tell you it is a funny sensation at first to see -the shells bursting near and around you, to hear the bullets whistling -by you, but you soon get used to it all. It tries your nerves a bit at -first, but you soon get in the way of it: _Private C. D. Moore_. - - -Like an Exodus - -We of the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders took up a position facing a -wood where the Germans were in strong force. As they emerged our boys -met them with a raking rifle fire, which mowed them down. On they came -again, and again with the same devastating result. Their bullets came -whistling round us, but we were indifferent, the marksmanship being -very poor. The German infantry carry their rifles under their arms, -the butts resting on their hips, and they fire as they march. As the -enemy poured out _en masse_ into the open it was like the exodus from -the Celtic and Rangers Scottish Cup final! Man, if they were only three -to one we could go through them easily, but when it comes to ten to -one, strategy as well as bravery has to be considered: _An Argyll and -Sutherland Highlander_. - - -A Long, Long Day - -I rolled a cigarette, thinking the engagement finished for the time, -and was making my way up the ridge ahead of my company to see how far -the Germans had retired. I had gone some considerable distance when -thousands of Germans reappeared on the sky-line, and of course I had -to dash back to my company. Every second I expected a bullet through -my back, but I was lucky and was bowled over by one which fractured -my right elbow, and I broke my forearm as I fell. The Germans advanced -right over me, but after taking all my grub out of my haversack they -left me to my fate. I lay there until dark and it was the longest day -I remember. The bullets and shells flew over my head incessantly, some -only falling a few yards away from where I lay. As soon as darkness -fell and the firing ceased the stretcher-bearers came out and got me -away. Once or twice I sat up to see what chance I had of getting away, -but the dirty devils kept on sniping at me, and I had to lie down -again. I could see, however, that the ground was covered with dead -Germans: _Pte. Priest, Coldstream Guards_. - - -Every House a Fort - -We were standing close to an orchard, and some of us were killing -time and quenching thirst by picking apples from the overhanging -trees, when the enemy opened fire with their guns and their rifles. -We were quickly formed into positions allotted to us, and advanced to -the attack supported by the Irish Rifles, who were moving slowly, as -their job was to cover our rushes with rifle fire. Our own artillery -opened out, adding to the frightful din, and making us think we had -been transported to the infernal regions. Soon we reached the village -and found the Germans occupying the houses in strong force. Every -house was a little fort, and the infantry were firing from the windows -furiously, picking us off as we came along. In some houses they had -machine guns mounted at the windows with which to sweep our line of -advance. On another house a big gun was placed in position, and some of -our sharpshooters were told off to pick off the men working it. This -they did in a short time, and it was silenced. Seeing that, the Germans -attempted to send up a new gun’s crew, but they had to pass under fire -when they came out on the roof, so that our men lay there picking them -off as fast as they showed their heads. That went on for over an hour, -but they didn’t get their gun manned, for every man who tried it was -shot down. After that they gave it up: _A Wounded Corporal_. - - -A Gallant Sky Pilot - -We had no trenches, all that was available being head “cover,” and -in some parts there was very little of that. The noise was terrible, -while all the time the shells were bursting around. Occasionally when -they exploded near us the shrapnel even tore our clothes. The shells, -however, which did the most damage were those which burst in the -air. While the action was going on we could see quite a number of the -German aeroplanes operating above us. Their object was to discover -our position, and when they had accomplished this they dropped some -kind of powder which burst into flames as it descended and showed -their artillery at what places to direct their shell fire. There was a -most exciting and peculiar incident in the course of the engagement. -An aeroplane hovered above our lines and then darted towards the -Germans. Our artillery fired at it, and when the enemy saw it their -artillery also attempted to bring it down. The machine came back in our -direction, still under a heavy fire, and you can imagine our surprise -when it descended amongst us and a young Frenchman stepped out of it. -He had been sent to discover the position of the Germans. The frame of -the aeroplane was riddled with bullets, but in spite of that fact he -made several visits in the course of the evening towards the German -lines: _Pte. R. Stobbie, Highland Light Infantry_. - - -The Unexpected - -We were in a field when the Germans dropped on us all of a sudden as -though from the sky. The first hint we had of their presence was when -a battery of guns on our right sang out, dropping shells into a mob of -us who were waiting for our turn at the washtub--the river. We all ran -to our posts in response to bugles, and by the time we all stood to -arms the German cavalry came into view in great strength all along the -left front. As soon as they came within range we poured a deadly volley -into them, emptying saddles right and left, and they scattered in all -directions. Meanwhile their artillery kept working up closer on the -front and the right, and a dark cloud of infantry showed out against -the sky-line on our front, advancing in formation rather loose for the -Germans. We opened on them, and they made a fine target for our rifle -fire, which was very well supported by our artillery. The fire from our -guns was very effective, the range being found with ease, and we could -see the shells dropping right into the enemy’s ranks. Here and there -their lines began to waver and give way, and finally they disappeared: -_A Wounded Guardsman_. - - -No Love Lost - -It’s very little love indeed there is lost between us and the Germans, -and when they get to grips with Irish soldiers they don’t get much -chance of saving their skins. The things the Germans do in Belgium -are ten times worse than anything you ever heard tell of in ’98, and -there’s few Irishmen can stand what they’ve done without wanting to -tear them to bits in good, honest fighting. We saw the Irish Guards -give the Germans a fine basting at Compiègne, and we were proud of the -way they behaved. When they came back to our lines after it was over -they had a grand cheer from all of us, and the French troops, who were -nearer to the fight and saw it better than us, weren’t behindhand in -giving our boys a good pat on the back. It would have done your heart -good to see the Frenchmen standing up in their trenches and shouting -like mad as the Guards passed by. The poor chaps got shy and sick of -all the fuss that was made over them. They didn’t like the idea that it -was their first time on active service and that they were only babies -at fighting, and there was many a row in the camp that night over men -saying fine things about the Guards, and reminding them of the fact -that they never had had any battle honours before that day: _Private P. -Heffernan_. - - -“Up, Guards,” and at ’Em? - -Shrapnel began to burst around us, and the Guards had to prepare to -engage the cavalry now creeping closer. Suddenly the cavalry remounted -their horses, and came crashing down on our chaps. “Now, Guards!” was -all the officer in command said, but his men knew what he meant, and -they braced themselves for the tussle. They lined up in the good old -British square that has proved a terror to European armies before, and -the front ranks waited with the bayonet, while the men inside kept -blazing away at the advancing horsemen. They came closer and closer, -and the earth seemed to shake and quiver beneath their rush. “Steady!” -was all the commander of the Guards said, and he said it in a dull way, -as though he were giving a piece of advice to some noisy youngsters -who had been making a row. The men answered not a word, but they set -their teeth. Then the crash came. Steel met steel, and sparks shot out -as sword crossed bayonet. The game of the Germans was to ride down our -ranks, but they didn’t know that that trick won’t work with British -troops, and the Guardsmen kept their ground, in spite of the weight of -men and horses. The Germans came to a dead stop, and just then they got -a volley from the centre of the square. They broke and scattered, and -then they got another volley: _A British Guardsman_. - - -Clearing Them Out - -The Germans held a position on the hills in front of us, and their -infantry had trenches just below them. Their shells started to drop on -us. We rushed along. We were getting mowed down, but we had to shift -them, as the officer said they were there long enough. How they missed -me I do not know. We got to about 100 yards of their trenches, when -the general passed the word up that the brigade would fix bayonets and -charge, taking the time to “go” from the bugle. It was an anxious time -waiting for the moment. I said to myself, and a lot more the same, -“This is my last rush, but I will fight for my life to the last.” The -bugle sounded at last, and we made a dash for it. The men were falling -each side of me. I was doubled up. We made a bit of a cheer, but it -was more like a groan. There was only about half of us got there. When -I got to their trenches I made a sort of a dive at it with my bayonet -leading, and it stuck in one of them, in the chest. We killed and -wounded the lot, but we found that they had a trench running backward, -and a lot escaped by that way. We stopped in the trenches a while to -get our wind, and we shook each other by the hand, and I said, “I will -never be hit after that,” and was confident of it. And I thanked God -from my heart for being alive: _Pte. Grace, Northumberland Fusiliers_. - - -Steady, Boys, Steady! - -Lyddite, shrapnel, common siege, and other sorts of shells were -bursting all around us. The fumes from the terrible lyddite were -sickening--we were spitting up yellow stuff three days afterwards. -Some of the shrapnel bullets hit our chaps pretty badly, but some -were harmless. One fell red-hot across my fingers, but its force was -expended. Shortly afterwards a big lump of shell plunged into the earth -a few inches from my face. Then every other shell that came seemed to -strike the earth a few inches above my head, knocking lumps of earth -and stones all over me. I gave up all hope of ever seeing England -again, and so did everyone, so I said just a wee fervent prayer, and -keeping low down I managed to scribble what I really thought would -be the last line to my sister in my pocketbook. Then I remembered -that I still possessed half a cigarette, so I managed to strike a -match and finish that just as my look-out man saw the German infantry -advancing on us about 800 yards away. I can tell you we gave them a -warm reception. The German artillery were busy just then trying to drop -shells into our artillery, and we gave the German infantry the very -best of our attention. Our men simply mowed them down with rifles and -machine guns. Still the Germans came on like great waves. My men acted -admirably, taking steady aim every time until the fields in front of us -were covered with lines and heaps of German dead and wounded: _Sergt. -J. Williams, Highland Light Infantry_. - - -Scared Gun-Horses - -What impressed me most was a battery of artillery under fire. It -dashed up to a point that had been marked by a stake with a number on -it by the officer who was responsible for allocating the positions. -Just as it stopped the Germans, who seemed to have the position to a -hair’s-breadth, sent shells shrieking around the battery. The horses -got frantic and began prancing and kicking out in terror. The drivers -held on like grim death, but the poor animals could not be pacified, -and at last they dashed off in the direction of the German lines with -the guns. The drivers stuck to their posts and did all they could to -restrain the mad horses. Meanwhile a party of new men with horses were -brought out and dashed off in pursuit. They caught up soon, and rode -alongside to get hold of the runaways. It was no use, however, and -now they came within range of more German guns, and the shells were -bursting overhead, making the poor animals madder than ever. There was -nothing for it but to shoot the mad animals, and this was done after -some difficulty. Then it was necessary to take out the dead team and -put the new one in, while German shells were dropping around. Half of -the men were hit, but they meant to stick to their posts, and not all -the Germans in the field could have driven them away. Just as they were -getting the guns away a party of German infantry came on the scene, but -by that time our battalion had moved out to cover the withdrawal of the -guns, and we gave the Germans as much as they could stand: _A Corporal, -Northamptonshire Regiment_. - - -A Cameron Man - -We retired into a wood, and it was here that I got put out of action. -I was struck with a piece of shell, and I fell, thinking it was all -over with me. The shell had struck my pack, and I was not injured in -the least, but the strange thing was that I could not find my pack. The -straps on it had been broken. I then got up, and had not gone twenty -yards when I got what seemed like a terrible blow on the left thigh -with a big forehammer. Looking down, I saw that my kilt was all blood, -and I realized I was knocked out. I tried to get up, but my old leg -would not come. I saw my chance and seized it. An ammunition pony came -flying past me, and I made one desperate jump at it. I did not look for -the reins: I got hold of something, and I was pulled right across an -open space between the woods. My God, it was something terrible coming -over that open ground. The enemy had been waiting for our advance -across it all day. This was where most of our fellows fell. The bullets -were dropping like hail, shells were bursting all around us, and it was -worse than hell, if anything could be. A few got across, but how many I -cannot say, for when I got this length I dropped. I never saw the old -pony afterwards: _Pte. Brooks, Cameron Highlanders_. - - -The Cold Steel - -We fixed bayonets and clambered out, and somehow got together some kind -of formation and rushed towards the hedge. All we could see was a few -strange uniforms a quarter of a mile away. Away we went, and one of -our officers was bowled over straight away, whilst many on my right -and left dropped out. We shouted out our slogan, and went at them as -fast as we could. At last we arrived with a yell at the ditch where the -German riflemen were concealed, and they fired at us point-blank, but -not one of us went down. Then we went at them with the steel, and the -Germans being six feet below us, they had no chance. When we had each -“done” our man we had to jump over the ditch and on towards the German -guns. We were running like hell, when all of a sudden machine guns -poured into us from both sides, knocking dozens of us over in heaps. -The officers gave the word to retire, and we came back at a run. When -we came to the trench we had already jumped we found that we had not -killed all the Germans in it, and as we passed over it again we were -shot at, and my pal was nearly bayoneted. We got back, and did not do -much good. We killed a few hundred Germans, it is true, but we lost one -hundred and fifty men! The Germans will do anything to get away from -the cold steel: _A Cameron Highlander, at the Aisne_. - - -“Is This Death?” - -It was a thousand times worse than being in hell. For six days we were -in the same trenches, almost at arm’s reach of the enemy. We could only -steal out under cover of darkness for a drink of water. It rained all -the time; but we had to make the best of it. Every day was the same as -the day before--an advance at daybreak and at night; but every time -we were beaten back by frightful odds. Each time we were forced back -we left hundreds of our men behind, killed and wounded. Then it was -the same old command, “Fall back on the trenches.” My comrades were -constantly falling by my side. Day after day, and every minute during -the day, German shells were falling around us like rain. We could hear -them coming through the air, and we would lie low in the trenches and -say, “That is another one that has missed us.” But the fatal one came -without us hearing it. Thirteen of us were together, and only one lucky -devil escaped. When the blow came I thought my head was taken off. I -fell on my knees and put one arm up in the air, and said, “Good God, -is this death?” I then put my hand on my face, and I felt the flesh, -which was so badly torn. But I felt no pain. It seemed dead. I crept -along the top of the trenches until I found the doctor who was with my -regiment. He simply put a piece of cotton-wool over my face and laid -me under a tree, as the firing was too heavy to get a proper dressing -on. For five hours I lay bleeding under that tree, and the German -shells were still falling about us like rain: _Pte. Kneale, Liverpool -Regiment_. - - -Spoiled Their Appetite - -“It’s a fine night for the Germans,” is what we say when it’s so dark -that you could not see your finger before you, and it was just on such -a night that I was nicked while serving my gun. Just about two in the -morning there was a heavy rattle of rifle fire on the hill where our -advance men were posted, and soon the whole camp was alive with noise -and bustle as the men sprang to arms. We always sleep beside our guns -so as to be ready for anything, and in five minutes we were at our -posts waiting for information about the range. That came later, and -then we began plugging away for all we were able. We caught sight of -a mass of Germans swarming up a slope on the right to take cover in a -wood there, and they didn’t know what we knew. We dropped a few shells -into them just to liven things up a bit, and keep them from thinking -too much about the Fatherland, but we had to be careful because some -of our own chaps were posted in that wood. The Germans kept rushing -along gaily, and there wasn’t the slightest sound from the wood, where -our men were securely posted behind felled trees. Now the German -searchlights began to play all around and the air was lit up with -bursting shells, so we could see the Germans getting nearer and nearer -to that wood. Suddenly the whole side of the wood was one big sheet -of flame as our hidden men sent volley after volley ripping through -the ranks of the advancing Germans. They were fairly staggered at -the suddenness and fierceness of the fire, and before they had time -to collect their wits a big body of our chaps were into them with the -bayonet. Just when this little show was in full blast the Germans -obliged with more limelight, and we saw it clearly. That spoiled the -German appetite for breakfast in that part of the field, though from -what we heard later there was no doubt that this was the point where -they expected to break through, and they cleared off quickly: _A Gunner -of the Royal Field Artillery_. - - -“A Jigsaw Puzzle” - -The Germans came on at a smart pace with the plan of seizing a hill on -our right. At the same moment our cavalry came into view, and then the -whole Guards Brigade advanced. It was really a race between the two -parties who should reach the hill first; but the Germans won easily, -owing to their being nearer by half a mile. As soon as their guns and -infantry had taken up a position the cavalry came along in a huge mass -with the intention of riding down the Irish Guards, who were nearest -to them. When the shock came it seemed terrific to us in the distance, -for the Irishmen didn’t recoil in the least, but flung themselves right -across the path of the German horsemen. We could hear the crack of the -rifles and see the German horses impaled on the bayonets of the front -rank of the guardsmen, and then the whole force of infantry and cavalry -were mixed up in one confused heap like so many pieces of a jigsaw -puzzle: _A Guardsman, from Compiègne_. - - -“Erin Go Bragh!” - -We are British soldiers, and proud of the name and proud to belong -to the great British Empire, but in doing our duty for the glory and -honour of the Empire we have always also in our minds to add, if we -can, more lustre to the fair name of Erin. Our flag of green with the -harp and shamrock and the words “Erin Go Bragh” is now faded and torn, -but still loved and cherished. Talking about that dear old flag, I -shall endeavour to describe how, at ----, when the fate of the day -seemed to waver in the balance, when the ruthless enemy by sheer weight -of numbers was pressing onward at every point of vantage, that faded -flag turned a threatened defeat into decisive victory. On our left -were the Munsters, on our right the Leinsters and Connaught Rangers. -All were hard-pressed and were about to retire, when suddenly from -the firing line one of our comrades rushed out flourishing the old -green flag and shouting “Erin Go Bragh.” With the blood coursing fast -through my veins, I watched with pride and admiration the marvellous -effect produced these simple words. With a mighty cheer that seemed -to rend the heavens, and that rose and swelled even above the din of -battle, those hard-pressed sons of Erin charged down on the advancing -enemy with fixed bayonets. The Germans were completely staggered by -this unexpected turn of events when victory seemed just within their -grasp, but they were given little time for hesitation, for, to slightly -alter the words of a well-known Irish ballad: - - _Like lions leaping at a fold, - When mad with hunger’s pang, - Right up against the German lines - Those Irish heroes sprang._ - -The Germans turned and fled in all directions, completely routed and -wholly disorganized. Such was the effect on the Irish Guards of the -sight of their old green flag and the cry of “Erin Go Bragh”: _Corpl. -Michael O’Mara, of the Irish Guards_. - - -A Midnight Move - -One night when it was unusually wet and miserable and dreary, and some -of us had got all the humps that ever were seen on a camel’s back, the -Assembly sounded, and we were paraded at midnight. We fell in, glad -to have something to take us away from our miserable surroundings. -We didn’t know what the move was when we were marched out into the -darkness, but we didn’t care much so long as it was warming work. We -tramped through weary swamps and soaking wet fields for nearly five -miles, and then we were halted near to a line of German trenches, while -scouts went on ahead and the remainder of the force was being conducted -to its assigned position. Just when some of us felt like having the -creeps all over because of the uncanny stillness of everything, a -rifle shot rang out, followed by others, and then there was a regular -volley. We lay down quickly and tried to peer into the darkness to see -something to aim at. There was nothing: and then their artillery opened -fire all along the line. Shells kept bursting all over us, and our -horses began to get restive. By now the whole of our attacking force -was in position, and our artillery opened fire at the points where the -attack was to be delivered. The order to advance was given quietly, -and we sprang to our feet with right good will. Some of us went down -again jolly quick under the German fire, but we kept moving on, and by -that time the Germans were losing the range. We were supported by an -infantry brigade that had to clear a line of trenches on the right. -The four battalions opened out in extended order and pressed slowly -towards their goal. Men dropped quickly, dotting the line of advance, -but in less than half an hour our lads were ready for the tiger-spring -that never fails. The Germans met them with a heavy rifle fire as they -climbed the last slope, and when they got to the top they were assailed -by twice their number of infantry armed with the bayonet. At one point -the line broke, and our lads fell back in some confusion. Reserves -were pressed forward to feed the fighting line, and the advance began -again. Once more the Germans were too heavy for our chaps, and again -they were forced back. They halted for a little to take a rest and then -began again. They dashed up the slope like wild cats and closed with -the Germans, who were by this time getting tired of it. There was no -falling back this time, and though it was very hard work indeed, the -whole line of trenches was cleared and the Germans sent flying: _A -Trooper of the 15th Hussars_. - - -A High Ordeal - -I was on picket duty, and it was just after midnight when the men -ahead fell back reporting strange sounds all along the front. At the -same moment we heard rustling in the bushes close by, and as there was -no response to the challenge we fired, thus giving the alarm in the -sleeping camp. Out of the bushes the enemy’s advanced guard rushed, -but we held them in check until we deemed it wise to fall back on the -camp with a report of the enemy’s strength and disposition. We reckoned -there was at least a whole German army corps attacking, supported by -endless bodies of cavalry and ten batteries of guns, besides hundreds -of machine guns. When we got back to camp we found everything was in -apple-pie order for the fight. The men were standing to their arms, -and though some of them were cursing a lot at being roused from their -sleep and vowing what they would do to the chuckle-headed pickets if it -turned out to be a false alarm, they were ready to do their duty like -men. They hadn’t long to wait for the Germans, who were really close -on our heels. On our way back we had heard our artillery open fire and -saw the shells bursting along the German lines. At the same moment the -Germans, who seemed to realize that their surprise was no surprise at -all, opened fire with their artillery right along the front, and their -searchlights were playing all round like so many will-o’-the-wisps. -Their searchlights were useful to us, because they enabled us to see -something of their strength as they advanced. Soon we saw coming out -of the inky darkness a long line of white faces, and in response to -the quick order we fired right into them. The first line wavered for -a moment or two, part of it was blotted out, but the line of reserves -behind filled up the gaps and the front line advanced again, seeming -not to heed the heavy hail of bullets we were pouring into them. Within -about one hundred yards of our trenches the first line of advancing -Germans flung themselves flat on the earth, fixing bayonets, while -the second fired over their heads, and yet a third line was pushing -forward men to fill the gaps of the second line where our fire tore -through. Then the first line rose and the second fixed bayonets also. -Finally, they all came sweeping forward with the bayonet and threw -themselves right on to our trenches. We poured one terrible volley -into them as they came on, but all the devils in hell would not have -stopped them. Our front ranks gave way slightly before the fierceness -of the attack and the weight of men hurled at them, but the recoil was -only temporary. We steadied ourselves, and while they were standing -still for a moment to take breath and dress their ranks for another -rush we went at them with the bayonet and hurled them over the trenches -down the hill again. It was in this rush that I got run through with a -bayonet, but as I lay on the ground doing my best to forget the pain in -the exultation of victory, I saw our lads chase them across country in -fine style, and I knew from the cheers all along the line that we were -beating them back: _A Sergeant of the Worcester Regiment_. - - - - -VII. WHAT THE SOLDIER SEES - - _On came the whirlwind--like the last - But fiercest sweep of tempest blast: - On came the whirlwind--steel-gleams broke - Like lightning through the rolling smoke; - The war was waked anew._ - - SIR WALTER SCOTT’S: “Waterloo.” - - _With fire and sword the country round - Was wasted far and wide, - And many a childing mother then - And new-born baby died; - But things like that, you know, must be - At every famous victory._ - - SOUTHEY’S: “The Battle of Blenheim.” - - -A daring German spy came into the British lines dressed in the uniform -of a Scots Grey. He inquired the whereabouts of the Scots Greys; but -his speech betrayed him, and on being stripped he was found to be -wearing German underclothing: _Pte. A. Prescott, 1st King’s Liverpool -Regiment_. - - -A Good Night - -One night when I was out in Belgium it came on to rain, and I went home -with a sergeant in the Belgian Lancers and slept in a lovely feather -bed, and started off again for my destination after having a good -breakfast and a deep drink of rum and coffee: _A Bombardier of the -Royal Artillery_. - - -A Far View - -We flew at 5000 feet, and saw a sight which I hope it will never be my -lot to see again. The woods and hills were literally cut to ribbons all -along the south of Laon. It was marvellous watching hundreds of shells -bursting below one to right and left for miles, and then to see the -German guns replying: _A Member of the Royal Flying Corps_. - - -Brave Women - -The French women seemed to think that the best cure for shrapnel or -bullet wound was a bottle of wine and a raw egg. After the Wednesday -fight the women brought hot potatoes and new bread right into the -trenches and firing line. I can assure you they are the bravest women I -have ever met: _Rifleman Fisher_. - - -Fatherly - -You would be surprised to see the enthusiasm of the people here. The -little kiddies run towards you and put their hands in yours, just like -my little kiddies at home. You can see little boys doing men’s work. I -noticed one chap (he would not be more than ten years old) with a pair -of horses, and he was ploughing all on his own: _A Private of the Royal -Field Artillery_. - - -Proud Indeed! - -I brought back on my lorry a wounded bombardier, and when the doctor -told him that he would have his right leg and an arm amputated he did -not seem to trouble a bit, but went on chatting and joking with us -as if it were an everyday occurrence. He is only eighteen years old. -As they were taking in the ambulance he said, “It’s not much to look -forward to, but my mother will be proud of me”: _Corpl. Hollyer: Army -Service Corps_. - - -Wilted! - -With their front files dressed in uniforms taken from the killed and -wounded of an English regiment, a German corps attempted to surprise -an English battalion. As they approached, the English commander, -becoming suspicious, gave the order to fix bayonets, whereupon the -Germans shouted, “Nein, nein! Leedle mistake! Ve vos not Shermans; ve -vos der Vilts.” The British then charged with bayonets and the Germans -“wilted”: _A Sergeant-Major, of Colchester_. - - -Enjoying Ourselves - -Villages are nearly empty as we come to them, cats, dogs, and a few -fowls being all that are left. Doors are open and the dinner things -left on the tables, and people crying. There is plenty of fruit -everywhere. The people left give one anything, and are very kind to -us in every way. We are really enjoying ourselves very much, and take -a very hopeful view that the Germans will soon realize that they have -bitten off more than they can chew: _Private G. Brown_. - - -Held Up! - -In a village we passed through the baker was working all night making -bread, and all the time he was working the Germans were standing over -him with revolvers. At a farm we passed the farmer said they stole -thirty of his racehorses. These horses, of course, would be no use to -the Germans as draught or saddle horses, and it is not an unreasonable -supposition that they were commandeered for food: _Pte. A. Forbes, -Gordon Highlanders_. - - -Not So “Swanky” - -Their prisoners aren’t near so swanky as they were at first, when they -used to move about as though the British soldiers weren’t fit to be -seen with. Now they’re glad to fall into our hands, and if they see the -uniform at all they surrender without further trouble. They’ve all got -Government news-sheets containing all sorts of stories, and they say -that these are distributed every day. Perhaps they get them instead -of grub, and if that’s the case it would account for the half-fed -appearance of so many of the prisoners: _Pte. Taylor, Rifle Brigade_. - - -Undaunted - -A few days ago I witnessed a most exciting incident. A French staff -officer went up in an aeroplane and the Germans opened fire on him. -Shots went wide at first and then all around him. He didn’t mind that, -but turned about again and once more ran the gauntlet. Then the Germans -started again, but that didn’t stop him. He turned once more and came -back before making off to headquarters with information as to where the -Germans were: _Drill-Instructor Anderson_. - - -“Rotten Luck” - -We are all putting up in farms on account of our horses being under -cover from the aeroplanes, which have done a lot of damage. The 9th -had just got in from a good hard day, when a big shell came into their -yard and killed ten men and wounded four. Who would have expected that, -after getting away from the firing line all safe? Of course, they might -have been stray shells trying to find our artillery. But then it is -what you may call rotten luck: _Pte. Robinson, 18th Hussars_. - - -Near Shaves - -I saw some brave things done. “Tanker” Gillespie endeavoured three -times, at great risk, to aid a comrade who had been seriously wounded. -The first time he got up a bullet grazed his head, and I saw him -rubbing it with rather comical grimness, and then seizing hold of his -rifle, the barrel of which had nearly all been blown away, and firing; -three or four shots at the Germans. He tried a second time to reach -his comrade, but again had to duck, and the third time he succeeded, -only to find that the poor fellow had died. In returning to his place, -“Tanker” was struck by a bullet which took away some of the hair on his -head, and he had to retire: _Pte. McMahon, Gordon Highlanders_. - - -Custom! - -German shell fire is not nearly so effective shot for shot and gun for -gun as ours, in spite of all the fine things they claim for it, and -where great accuracy in range is necessary they are hopelessly out of -it. Their infantry can’t stand half the shelling our men will put up -with, and they get awfully panicky under fire from our guns. It is a -favourite trick of the Germans to keep a battery well masked for hours, -and then when our infantry are deploying within range, without the -slightest notion of what is coming, the German shells begin to fall -round like the autumn leaves. That’s very trying to the nerves, or was -at first, but we are now getting used to it: _Gunner T. Wall_. - - -Buried and Burnt - -There was one interesting sight I saw as the column was on the march, -and that was a duel in the air between French and German aeroplanes. It -was wonderful to see the Frenchman manœuvre to get the upper position -of the German, and after about ten minutes or a quarter of an hour the -Frenchman got on top and blazed away with a revolver on the German. He -injured him so much as to cause him to descend, and when found he was -dead. The British buried the airman and burnt the aeroplane: _A Private -of the 1st Royal Kent Regiment_. - - -“That Tired Feeling” - -We are now getting into our stride and beginning to get a little of our -own back out of the Germans. They don’t like it at all now that we are -nearer to them in numbers, and their men all look like so many “Weary -Willies,” they are so tired. You might say they had got “that tired -feeling” bad, and so they have. Some of them just drop into our arms -when we call on them to surrender, as though it were the thing they’d -been waiting for all their lives: _Lance-Corporal T. Williams_. - - -Lucky Fellow! - -It was a pitiful sight to see the people fleeing from their homes -carrying all they could save. Our soldiers are very kind to them, and -give them whatever they can spare--and sometimes more than that. I saw -one young woman trying to reach some fruit from a tree which was a -good way out of her reach, and, not thinking, I went over and gave her -some pears which I had given me. She ate them hurriedly, but before -doing so gave me a kiss on both cheeks, which was rather enjoyed by the -rest of the troops standing by: _Driver J. Brennan, Army Service Corps_. - - -So Glad! - -Oh, dear! I am pleased all my good women live in England. Often I see -cottage homes a-smoke and in flames. Villages, too! Dogs forlorn, -cats despondent on doorsteps. And yesterday I saw three little dots -walking along the muddy road with a tiny wheelbarrow. We were, when we -passed them, going under cover from a severe shell fire, whilst they -were going in the direction whence we were coming. At present we are -billeted in the buildings about a huge water-mill. The wooded hills are -all around, and the harvests seem all gathered in about here. It is not -so elsewhere: _A Reservist of the Beds Regiment_. - - -The Gallant Belgians - -We are doing fine, and have earned the name of the “Fighting Fifth” -again. We have heard that some Hindus have come from India to fight, -and the public expect great things from them; but you take it from me, -no matter how brave, how fearless they may be, they will never equal -the brave little Belgian people. What other race in the world could -have fought with more courage and determination than they when the -German curs burnt Louvain and committed the most dastardly outrages? -Who were they who bit their lips to hide their feelings, but who swore -that the Germans should pay for it--not in the way the Germans made -the women and children suffer, but by good lead and cold steel? The -Belgians! _Pte. A. Hayes, of Upper Wortley_. - - -In the Dark - -We had not gone three hundred yards before the Germans fired on us. We -were between two farmhouses. We were only about thirty to forty yards -off, and we didn’t half give it them. We could hear the wounded Germans -moaning and groaning, and it was awful to hear. It was dark, and we -fired low because we knew that was the best way to get them. Just then -a piece of shrapnel came through the peak of my cap and grazed my nose. -It was a near thing, but I took no notice of it and kept on firing. The -man next to me was then shot dead, and our captain was shot slightly -in the head, but he continued to give orders. A piece of my boot was -blown away, and I received a piece of shrapnel in my right shoulder, -and consequently saw no more of the fighting: _Pte. Brayshaw, Guards -Brigade_. - - -A Bold Battery - -Half the horses of L Battery Royal Artillery got smashed, and we had -to bung our poor old tired ones to fill up. Only a few gunners were -left, but they stood by firing still and singing “Onward, Christian -Soldiers.” Then the Germans charged, and our gunners did a bunk, but -not before they had driven spikes into the guns so as to make them -useless to the enemy. They said they guessed they would get them back -in a day or two, and if they did they could repair them easy enough. The -Germans don’t know these tricks, and we can do them down any time: _A -Driver of the 4th Ammunition Column_. - - -Before the Dawn - -I was given a map, and a message for my company officer. When I had -made my way in the dark to where the outpost should have been, I found -it had retired. I went to where I saw a picket posted, and noticed a -body of men. It was just getting light, and I thought I saw an English -officer. I put down my rifle and whistled. They immediately dropped -down and fired at me. I dropped into the grass, too, to bluff them into -thinking I had been “winged.” I crawled through a big turnip field, and -heard a general action commencing. I could hear people talking, but -not loudly enough to know whether they were English. So I hoisted my -cap upon a stick and called, “Hullo, West Kent!” Then shots came in my -direction, and, as it was getting lighter, I decided, as the best thing -to do, to make for our big guns. I crawled along the ground for nearly -two hours, and when I stopped for a short rest a bullet hit my right -arm: _Corpl. Drinkwater, West Kent Regiment_. - - -Rescued - -In getting out of my trench I fell back, so injuring my back that I -could not move. I lay there, expecting every minute to be my last, -but it did not come. I took a bold front and looked over the trench -to see what was happening there. I saw that the Germans had taken a -sweeping curve to the right, and I saw the tail of them a long way off. -They seem to be driven along by their officers rather than led, for -the officers have their swords drawn. I laid down in the trench (my -comrades had evidently thought I was shot, as they took no notice of -me when I fell back into the trench) for two hours, looking now and -again to see if I could see any signs of our men. At last, after nearly -giving up hope, I saw a patrol of the 15th Hussars, and managed to -attract their attention, and they put me on a horse and carried me to a -French hospital in a village: _A Private in the Royal Sussex Regiment_. - - -A “Jelly Fish” - -I was ordered to remain behind with the aeroplanes, one of which was -to go up early in the morning and return, and I was to take reports -on to headquarters. The machine had been gone half an hour when rifle -fire was heard, and we discovered that a German aeroplane was flying -overhead. The officers got rifles, and likewise myself, and stood up to -have a shot, but he went away, only, however, to return. We allowed him -to get in range and then opened fire. He came over the place where we -were lying down. I fired twenty-five rounds and expected to have a bomb -dropped on us, when I saw he was done. He made one dive and landed in -a heap behind us. On examining him we found twelve bombs, all of which -had safety caps and pins attached, luckily for us. He had a lot of -papers which I had the honour to carry to headquarters. The fall made -him like a jelly fish: _Private A. J. Davis_. - - -Cold--and Hot! - -We had to climb up a big hill, and then through a quarry, so that we -were fagged out and wet through before we saw the enemy. When we did -get to the top they gave us a good welcome with shot and shell. It was -so heavy it dug up the ground in front of us, but we had to go on and -try to shift them. I saw some sights up there, with one man down after -another. I expected the next to be me, but I had determined that I -would keep my end up and do my best, so I kept going on. Well, the long -and short of it was that we got to them about tea-time, or what should -be tea-time. We found them about sixteen to one, or that is what I -thought. We could not shift them, but just as I thought we were getting -the best of it someone gave the order to retire, which we did. When we -got back we found we had lost all our officers, and nobody could tell -who gave the order to retire, and the sun was then sinking. It was in -going back that I was wounded. It is not a bad wound, and you must -thank God, as I have done, that I got through at all: _Pte. Clare, 1st -Royal Lancashire Regiment_. - - -“Knocked!” - -When night came we knew where the Germans were, so we crept out of the -trenches and went down to the roadway. No sooner had we got there -than a great volley rang out. We were in the midst of it, and knew it -was either the Germans or us. So we at them. In the struggle that took -place I thought of you and the children. I made a jump at a German, but -whether I got him or not I don’t remember, for I got such a terrible -knock over the ribs. It must have been with the butt of a rifle. You -talk about getting your ribs bent. I got mine, and more than that my -appendix got first. They thought at first that it was a bullet wound, -but happily it was not, or I might not have been here to tell the tale. -I was knocked into a “trap” trench about eight feet deep, but I was -pulled out and carried eight miles on horseback: _A Private of the -Gordon Highlanders_. - - -In a Château - -Two hundred of us went into a big château, where we were told we would -be quite safe, and we sat down to a meal of tea and biscuits. We -were just in the middle of it when a patrol of German cavalry scouts -discovered us, and as we were eating, a shell struck the roof of the -building, smashing it into fragments. Then there was the greatest -excitement as the men scurried out of the building. As the shells were -getting very busy we lost no time in retreating from that place, and -took up our position in a field about 200 yards distant. There were a -lot of wounded around, and we were lying on a slightly elevated ridge -in the field. We had only been a short time in this position when we -saw the Somersets getting badly cut up. We went to the assistance of -the Somersets, and succeeded in checking the Germans’ advance. We began -to go forward and went at them with the bayonet, when they turned and -fled. We were just 150 yards away when they packed themselves into -motor-cars that were waiting on them and drove off, but before they -went we managed to capture five of their machine guns: _Pte. T. O’Dea, -Seaforth Highlanders_. - - -“Made Good!” - -Our last action was the worst. Men fell like corn before the reaper. -I tell you truly, I never expected to get out alive. The Germans must -have lost thousands, but they were ten to one, so we had to retire. The -shrapnel and hail of lead and bullets--I see it all now, and I was one -of the last to leave the field. I won’t say more, only I got a bullet -through my right leg, but still kept on twenty yards or thereabouts. I -got a great piece of shrapnel shell in my neck--laid me senseless. I -came to again, and, as if possessed, ran for my life through it all -and “made good.” It’s wonderful how you can run with a bullet through -your leg. I have not been long at it, but fellows say that they saw -more in the last four days than they did in three years in Africa. -That’s the truth. Ah, well! I’m not grumbling. I’m not disfigured or -maimed like so many poor fellows, so let’s rejoice over all. Some of -our engagements lasted thirteen hours, and the last--and worst--ten -hours. So tired, must sleep: _A Lance-Sergeant of the King’s Own -Yorkshire Light Infantry_ - - -A “Terrible Time” - -We had a terrible time at Mons, and for four days and nights we did -nothing but fight, and I should think the Germans had three men to -every one of ours. On August 24 we lost one hundred men in about five -minutes. We had a mile and a half to gallop over open country with as -many as thirty shells a minute bursting round us. How I got out of it -I do not know, for I had not gone 200 yards before a shell burst under -my horse and killed it. I was not touched, and I managed, with a bit -of luck, to get another horse from a comrade who had been killed. I -am sure it was worse than hell let loose, and I think I said a prayer -afterwards, but anyway I shall soon be right now. The man who was with -me when I was wounded is dead. He died as soon as the search party -found us. He was shot twice in the stomach, whilst I was shot in the -thigh. I crawled to him when he was dying, but I could not help him as -I was in such agony myself. He gave me his papers, and I gave them to -the officer when he rode up to us: _Lance-Corpl. Potton, 18th Hussars_. - - -His True Colours - -We had been entrenched two days when a German spy was captured. He -spoke English as well as I do, and shouted to me, “I surrender, I -surrender; take me prisoner.” He was placed in a corner of the trench, -seven feet deep, and was guarded. He soon began to chatter, and told us -his history in such a plausible manner that we believed him. He told -us he had been in private service as a butler in Surrey and Sussex, -and also a waiter in hotels at Brighton, Liverpool, and Manchester. -The devil actually cried when he pulled out of his pocket the photo of -a girl he said he intended making his wife when the war was over if -he was spared, and begged we would not take it away from him. He said -she was a Lancashire lassie--he could put on the north-country dialect -all right--and read portions of a letter she wrote him when he was -called up. The traitor gave us a lot of supposed information about the -Germans, and pretended to be as wild as a March hare when he spoke -of their officers. They were everything that was bad. I must admit I -thought the fellow was genuine, and I gave him some of my rations, but -several of the others had their doubts. He had been with us three days -when he showed himself in his true colours. It was pitch dark, and -raining like cats and dogs. He jumped out of the trench and made a dash -for the German trenches, but he did not get thirty yards away before he -was brought down. The next morning we saw his dead body lying where he -fell: _Sapper A. G. Hutton, R.E._ - - -A Barricade - -We were just about five minutes billeted in the various houses and -just stretching our legs when our officer came running in shouting, -“The Germans are upon us; outside, everyone.” We came out magazine -loaded, bayonets fixed, and eager to get a good bayonet fight with -them. It appears they do not like it, but we found none; they had not -yet arrived. It was 10 P.M. before they did so. In the meantime, the -poor people were leaving the town in crowds with as much goods and -chattels as they could carry away, and it was well for them, too. It -was a dark night when we formed up in the streets, and the lamps but -dimly burned. The noises of rifles and field guns were terrific. We -rushed to the heads of the various streets, where our German foe would -advance. Our field artillery and the Coldstream Guards went out to -delay their advance, whilst we stripped off our coats and commenced to -tear up the square setts, gather carts--in fact, everything that would -build a barricade to keep back our numerous German foe, and we did so -under perfect showers of shrapnel shell that fell around us and struck -the houses about us, but we were undaunted, and so succeeded: _Private -Spain_. - - -Wounded and Waiting - -The order came to retire to a neighbouring haystack. How the bullets -flew about! Up I jumped, and up the slope I ran. I soon reduced the -distance. Another 100 yards to safety--80, 60, 40, 30, 15 yards. Oh, my -left knee! I dropped down flat, with my right arm underneath my body, -and my left hand feeling if my leg was still on. An officer ran by -shouting out, “Wounded, lie still.” I was laid on my chest, and I could -see them coming, 200 yards behind me. They did not put their rifles to -their shoulders, but fired from the hips. Bullets were spitting in the -ground around me. “Should I ever get out of this?” I thought. Something -seemed to say to me, “Keep still, and you will be all right.” On the -Germans came to within 100 yards of me, then 50 yards, then 20 yards, -then 10 yards, and there they halted. They were on the slope leading -to the stack, and after a short conversation two of them came in my -direction. “Now for it,” I said to myself. But no, they passed me and -went to the top of the hill. My arm beneath my body was paralysed, and -I could feel the blood running from my wound. Now and again I could -hear one of them shout out, “Hoch, Kaiser!” and I said to myself, -“Hurrah for the King!” Then I saw them fall in, and about to turn. -Thank God! off they went: _Pte. Wood, Coldstream Guards_. - - - - -VIII. HOW IT FEELS UNDER FIRE - - _Lay the proud usurpers low! - Tyrants fall in every foe! - Liberty’s in every blow! - Let us do or die!_ - - ROBERT BURNS: “Scots Wha Hae.” - - _And man, whose heav’n-erected face - The smiles of love adorn,-- - Mans inhumanity to man - Makes countless thousands mourn!_ - - BURNS: “Man was made to Mourn.” - - -I must admit we were all a bit shaky until we got properly stuck into -it, and then you feel in your glory. You forget all fear, everybody -full of excitement. You hardly think of your funeral: _Gunner J. -Robinson, Royal Field Artillery_. - - -Inconceivable! - -People in England can have no idea what it is like on a battlefield, -thousands of dead and wounded lying about with nobody to help them. -After my pal and I got hit we could hear the deadly shell on its way, -but could not move, and had to lay for some time. My pal had his foot -blown off: _Gunner J. Edgecombe, Royal Field Artillery_. - - -Gets Used to It - -I shall never forget when the first shot was fired. We soon got used to -it, and I was as anxious to get at them as anyone else. It is awful in -action. I saw my two chums shot down beside me, and one of them said -with his dying breath, “Kill ten of those German devils for me,” and I -think I did: _Pte. E. Mead, 19th Hussars_. - - -Gay to Grave - -You must not take too much notice of the reports of the soldiers in -the trenches singing as if they had not a care in the world. I heard -more talk of religion--and from men from whom you would least expect -it--than any popular songs! Some of the sights are simply shocking--you -could not talk about them: _Private Pope_. - - -Encouraged - -It was my first baptism of fire, and I frankly confess that I thought -my time had come. It was a nerve-racking experience. I said a prayer -to myself. But the fear soon wore away, and I recognized that to save -my own skin I must beat the enemy. We were also encouraged by the poor -marksmanship of the Germans: _Pte. Gallagher, Royal Scots Fusiliers_. - - -Wondering! - -We saw some terrible sights--women and children cut up--and I shall -never forget until my dying day some of the awful things I saw. The -firing was awful. I am not much of a praying chap, but I prayed when -the shots were coming thick about us. It was maddening to see the -fellows shot down right and left, and wondering when it would be my -turn: _Pte. Sibley, 3rd Worcester Regiment_. - - -Jubilant - -War! How terrible the word sounds, but our British spirit in us makes -us view things from the bright side. I do not mean to imply that the -troops do not think it a serious concern--far from it--but all seem -quite confident. When under heavy fire there seems to exist a jubilant -sort of spirit, each and all steady and ready to sacrifice themselves -for the honour of England: _A Private of the Scottish Rifles_. - - -Mad! - -You feel pretty shaky going into battle at first. When you are going -along the road and see dead lying here and there and hear the groaning -of the wounded you do feel rather queer, but once you see what you are -getting at, all that feeling disappears and your one desire is to get -at them. In fact, when the bullets begin to fly you turn mad for the -time being: _Pte. Lightfoot, Cameron Highlanders_. - - -Know nor Care - -You don’t realize that you are in danger until some of the men around -you get knocked over by shells and bullets, but afterwards you have the -feeling that you don’t care. You know you have to be there, and you -don’t care a hang whether you get knocked over or not. In a way you are -only too glad when you can get to close quarters with the Germans. As -to the sensation caused by being struck by a bullet, it is just like -being hit by a stone thrown at you: _A Sergeant of the Irish Rifles_. - - -An “Infernal Din” - -Artillery fire is the deadliest thing out, and it takes a lot of nerve -to stand it. The Germans keep up an infernal din from morning until -far into the night; but they don’t do half as much damage as you would -think, though it is annoying to have all that row going on when you’re -trying to write home or make up the regimental accounts. The French -seem to like the noise, and don’t seem at all happy unless it’s there. -There’s no accounting for tastes: _Sergeant J. Baker_. - - -Splendid but Awful - -The order was given, “Retire! Every man for himself!” It was a splendid -but awful sight to see horses, men, and guns racing for life with -shells bursting among them. The Germans rushed up, and I lay helpless. -A German pointed his rifle at me for me to surrender. I refused, and -was just on the point of being put out when a German officer saved me. -He said, “Englishman brave fool.” He then dressed my wound, and he gave -me brandy and wine and left me: _Gunner B. Wiseman, Royal Artillery_. - - -How It Happened - -How I came to be wounded was like this. I had got my bayonet fixed -in some fat German, and I could not get it out in time, and a German -officer hit me over the head with the butt of his revolver. Of course -I went down for the count, and when I came round I found I had stopped -a stray shot with my left foot, so I had to lie among the German dead -until it became dark. Then I crawled to the British lines three miles -away, and into hospital: _Pte. P. Rourke, North Lancashires_. - - -Joe to Bill - -You know, Bill, it looked hard to see my old chums mowed down like -sheep.... After being under shot and shell for seven hours, Bill, -I know what it is to be at death’s door. You can bet your hat God -answered my prayer, for I asked and He accepted. They were killed on -each side of me, and shells were bursting front and back, but none hit -Joseph, so that was a Godsend. What do you say? I know what I think, -Bill: _A Reservist of the Lancashire Fusiliers_. - - -The Stuffing Wrong - -“Never say die till you’re dead” is the only motto for us in the firing -line, for every hour of the blessed day you’re expecting to have your -head blown off by a German shell, and you wonder how on earth you -managed to escape every time it hits something else instead of you. -Their shells make awful havoc when they do burst, but it is not so -often as you would think. There seems to be something wrong with the -stuffing of them: _Engineer Hughes, Royal Artillery_. - - -Guarded! - -When you do drop asleep you awaken suddenly and think you are being -fired at. Twice now while I have been in battle, the man on my right -and on my left has been killed. The last one next to me to be killed -was poor ----. He was asking me where the enemy was when he got shot in -the arm. Then he got hit in the stomach, and afterwards, poor chap, in -the chest. The man on my right got hit, and then it came my turn. It is -strange that the same thing should occur twice running. God is guarding -me all right: _Sergt. Greeley, South Lancashire Regiment_. - - -A Scamper - -The whistle has just blown to get under cover as there is an aeroplane -up. I have just spotted it. All the fellows are running for shelter so -as not to be seen and give the position away. I am inside the car, a -covered van body. The shells are beginning to drop very close, so we’ll -have to make a shift for better cover: they are screaming and howling -like some of those funny fireworks, but you cannot see them and don’t -know where they are going to land any minute. Our guns are firing on -the aeroplane, but I’m afraid he is too high for them to reach him: -_Driver F. Clarkson, Artillery Transport Service_. - - -Causes Deafness - -A bullet struck the kit of Corpl. Thompson, of the 3rd Worcesters, and -lodged in his canteen. Thompson gave a grunt and thought he was done -for, but when the bullet rattled inside the canteen he just laughed -and blessed his luck. It’s a funny thing to go into battle for the -first time. There we were in the trenches with rain falling heavily -all the time, bullets whizzing all round us and shells--death-dealing -things--dropping everywhere. The roar was deafening: in fact, I was -deaf for a week afterwards, and I couldn’t tell what was shouted: -_Private J. Sibley_. - - -Twenty to One - -We had no cover, and simply walked into the German army, who were about -twenty to one. We bayoneted and charged several times. They shouted -for mercy. They can’t face steel. I think I was just mad, and the rest -were, too, at seeing chums go under. You simply don’t think about -yourself; all your thought is to get at them. I felt right proud to -be a Britisher, especially a Cameron. If I do go under, it will be -fighting with a rifle in my hand and like a Britisher; but, at the same -time, a few Germans are already my victims: _A Private of the Cameron -Highlanders_. - - -Under Difficulties - -We got into a little hell yesterday and all last night--a proper warm -corner. Shells bursting all over and round us and bullets whizzing -about all over the place. I had to take one of our wagons right into -the firing line. Our captain, who was riding ten yards in front, got -blown off his horse. The battle is still raging now. Heaven only knows -how it will end up. We cannot hear ourselves speak. My writing is very -bad, but you must excuse it as the very ground is shaking. I have to -take another wagon right into the firing line in ten minutes’ time: _A -Corporal of the Royal Army Medical Corps_. - - -Not Troubling - -The Germans are an awful lot of bad shots with the rifle, but they are -good with the artillery, and that is where we have suffered most of our -losses. There have been very few to speak of who have fallen through -rifle fire. To tell you the truth, I do not seem sometimes as though I -was on a battlefield at all. I go blundering along as if I was on the -dear old sea front at Bridlington, and I find that is the best way, -for, as sure as I am living, the less you think of it all the better. -We do our best, and trust in God. You need not trouble much about me, -for I am as happy here as I am at home. It is no use being otherwise, -and it is like being on guard at home: _Pte. C. Gledhill, Coldstream -Guards_. - - -The Pictures! - -Every morning we go within 300 yards of the place where the shells are -bursting. First you hear the shell whistling about a quarter of a mile -away like a Gabriel horn, and the nearer it gets the louder, then it -bursts like 120 tyres bursting together. At first it frightened the -life out of me. I was digging some potatoes in a garden, and one burst -about 200 yards away. I left the potatoes and hopped it--I did the -fastest 100 yards on record. When you hear a shell coming it is best to -lie flat--it’s quite amusing to see everybody drop to the ground. It -reminds one of the pictures: _Pte. Noel Withers, Army Service Corps_. - - -Healing Nicely! - -I got shrapnel in the face, and it entered just by my eye and came -through my mouth, splitting my face open and fracturing my jaw. Lucky -for me my sight is not gone. My face is stitched up and healing nicely, -but I’m afraid I’m disfigured for life. The beggars were not content -with that--they shot me through the left forearm and fractured the -bone. I’ve got it in plaster of Paris. I am glad to say I am not in -much pain now, and I am as strong as an ox. I had to leave everything -on the battlefield, including my pipe and the pouch you gave me. Your -photo, taken at Paddington, I had in a waterproof case with some more: -_A Private of a Field Battery_. - - -Dazed, but There - -All the officers stood round us the whole time, including one young -lieutenant who had only just joined the battery from England, and was -under fire for the first time. The captain was wounded, but he stood -up and cried out, “Go on, lads! I’m not killed yet.” We went on. But -another hail of shells came, and the captain fell. We all knew we were -in for it; but we cracked jokes as we loaded and fired. One by one the -fellows went down. Those left shook hands with one another, and just -said, “So long, old man!” My chum at my gun bent down to look through -the aperture of the gun shield. A shell came and caught him in the -forehead. He tumbled up against me as he fell. Then they got the shells -on our limbers. I can’t describe the sight as our own shells exploded -on the spot. There were only ten of us now. We had never received the -order to clear out, and we stuck it dazed: _A Gunner of the Royal Field -Artillery_. - - -“A Mad Crew” - -When I read in books or stories of the coolness of men under fire I -thought somebody was blathering. But after eight weeks of it, I can say -that no book has ever done justice to the coolness of British soldiers -under conditions that would try anybody. The night I was hit we were -just leaving the trenches for an interview with some Germans who were -trying some of their fancy tricks about our left. As we stood up there -was a ghastly shower of bullets and shells bursting all round. Into it -we had to go, and as we looked ahead one of our chaps said, “I think -we’ll have to get our greatcoats, boys; it’s raining bullets tonight, -and we’ll get wet to the skin if we’re not careful.” The men of “C” -Company started laughing, and then they took to singing, “Put up your -umbrella when it comes on wet.” The song was taken up all along as we -went into the thick of it, and some of us were humming it as we dashed -into the German trenches. The Germans must have thought us a mad crew: -_A Private of the Irish Fusiliers_. - - -Saving a Battery - -We were sent up to the firing line to try and save a battery. When we -got there we found that they were nearly all killed or wounded. Our -Irish lads opened fire on the Germans, and you should have seen them -fall. It was like a game of skittles. But as soon as you knocked them -down up came another thousand or so. We could not make out where they -came from. So all of a sudden our officer gave us the order to charge. -We fixed bayonets and went like fire through them. You should have -seen them run! As the firing line was at full swing we had with us an -officer of the Hussars. I think he was next to me, and he had his hand -nearly blown off by one of the German shells. So I and two more fellows -picked him up and took him to a place of safety, where he got his wound -cared for. I heard afterwards that he had been sent home, poor fellow: -_Pte. Levy, Royal Munster Fusiliers_. - - -Salt and Cigarettes - -I am writing this under fire. Every now and again a little message -from the Kaiser comes whizzing in this direction, but no damage is -being done, and we don’t worry. Bang! Another message. One of the -things I miss more than anything else is a drop of milk for tea. Would -give 2s. for a tin of condensed milk. Of course, most of the cattle -are moved miles away from any battlefield, and consequently no milk -can be obtained. There is plenty of fruit and vegetables. But now and -again we run short of certain things. For instance, to-day we have run -short of salt, and consequently our dinner was not quite the success I -anticipated. We made a stew--1½ lb. of corned beef, potatoes, beans, -carrots, and pumpkin. This did for three men. I was the cook. To-night -for tea we are having bread, bacon, jam, and cheese; but, sad to -relate, I have no cigarettes: _Private W. Rouse_. - - -Like an Electric Shock - -I got five or six bullets in my right thigh. The actual wounding was -not very painful--like an electric shock. I fired for over an hour -afterwards, then crept to an old barn, where my wounds were dressed. -There we had to stay two days under shell-fire. Then they started -smashing the place up with shrapnel, knocking the roof on the top of -us--without hurting us. We were dragged out. It was night before we -could be taken in farm carts to the field hospital. On Sunday the -“dirty pigs” shelled that, though the Red Cross flag was flying. It -seems to be a favourite game of theirs. We are well away from the -fighting line now, our only danger being bombs from airships, which we -don’t fear. Our biggest risk now is over-feeding. We are quartered in -the finest hotel in Versailles. Crowds of French people collect round -the gates and send us presents of flowers, tobacco, and cigarettes, -which are very welcome. The people here think the world of the English -“Tommy,” and nothing is too good or too expensive to give him. All they -ask in return is a button or a cap-badge “to keep as a souvenir of us”: -_Pte. Graham, Coldstream Guards_. - - -Given up Worrying - -One of the coolest things I have seen--and I have seen a few--was an -Engineer sergeant and two assistants measuring a piece of the river -bank with the tape, and having to lie down every few minutes to dodge -shells or extra-strong volleys. The sergeant could not hear some of -the figures, so yelled out, “Don’t let your voice be drowned by a ---- -German gaspipe.” I assure you that we think no more of bullets and -shells than of a cricket ball sent down by a fast bowler. In fact, I -have felt more funk when ---- is in form at the wicket than I have at a -shell. This may sound awful swank, but when you have lived among shells -and bullets for a month it is a case of familiarity breeding contempt. -I believe I am the funkiest, or at any rate the most careful, chap in -the regiment, but I have long since given up worrying: _A Private of -the Bedfordshire Regiment_. - - -Safe as Houses - -The Germans watched until we halted, and then let fly at us with some -shells. They killed about fifteen and wounded about twenty-five. One -chap was blown to bits; another got one right through his cheek, and -it was terrible to see us after they had bunked. They did not half let -us have it. We all lay flat down on our faces waiting every moment for -our turn to come. I can tell you I thought my last day had come then. -Every time a shell comes it makes a whistle and then a bang, and not -half a bang, too. I can tell you it was a relief to everybody, and they -would sigh after a bang if not hit. They must have thought we had all -gone or been killed or wounded because they stopped for a bit, and then -we started to dig ourselves in. Of course we had to dig deep and well -underground so as to be out of shell reach. We did not get any more -that day, but the next morning they let us know it was time to get up -with some of their heavy gun shells. We only got four wounded then, -but I can tell you I thought I had got hit. One dropped about fifteen -yards in front of my trench, and it lifted me up and dropped me with -such a bang that I thought I was counted out. I felt all over me to see -what I had got, but no, I am as safe as houses yet: _Sergt. T. L. Neal, -King’s Own Yorkshire Light Infantry_. - - -Stunned! - -What gets at you is not being able to come to close quarters and fight -man to man. As a fact we see very little of the enemy, but blaze -away at the given range and trust to Providence. For that matter, we -see very little of our own fellows, and only know by the ambulance -men passing through our lines what regiments are near us. For hours -we stick on one spot and see nothing but smoke and something like a -football crowd swaying half a mile off. We see all we want of the -German flying machines. They are over our lines day and night, and are -so common that we do not now take pot-shots at them. The chances of -hitting them are about 100 to 1. We hate them, because we know they -are signalling the position and range to their artillery, which is -awful. The German rifle fire wouldn’t worry a covey of partridges, but -their shells are hell. I was stunned by one a week ago. It was a queer -feeling, and rather pleasant than otherwise. It fell about six yards -in front of me, and I felt as if a rush of lime-kiln gas had hit me. I -fell forward, and was carried to the rear, but came to in about half an -hour, with no hurt whatever, except that I had a tingling in my nose -and eyes, and a bad headache all day. Other chaps say the feeling is -the same: _Pte. F. Burton, Bedfordshire Regiment_. - - -His Fire Baptism! - -It was the first time I had been under fire, and for the first ten -minutes I felt a bit nervous, and so, I think, all of us did; but it -soon wore off, and seeing our comrades hit by shell seemed to stiffen -us. We could see the Germans lying in their trenches more than 1000 -yards away: we could see their helmets, which showed up like a lot of -mushrooms. While we were still digging our trenches the enemy began to -advance; and some of our cavalry to our rear came through us to attack -the enemy. The Lancers, however, were met by a tremendous rifle and -machine-gun fire, and mown down; and they retired through us, followed -by the Germans, who came on yelling with fixed bayonets. The regiment -who were next us on our right digging themselves in, got caught, I -fancy, for I saw some of their men tumbling out of their half-finished -trenches in their shirt-sleeves without their rifles. We were ordered -out of our trenches to meet the advancing Germans, who, firing from -the hip, and with fiendish yells, were evidently intending to rush -us. They were coming on in dense blocks--blocks which were probably -companies--in _échelon_, but when they saw us come out of our trenches -with our bayonets fixed they didn’t like it, and most of them turned -and ran. Some of them, however, came on, and I saw one man single me -out and come for me with his bayonet. He made a lunge at my chest, and, -as I guarded, his bayonet glanced aside and wounded me in the hip; -but I managed to jab him in the left arm and get him on the ground, -and when he was there I hammered him on the head with the butt-end -of my rifle. I think I had become a bit dazed, for I did not see my -battalion, only a few dead and wounded lying on the ground: _A Private -of the Yorks Light Infantry_. - - -Smoke--and Fire! - -We got down a slope in some way, and thought we were practically safe. -In fact, I stopped behind the rest to light my pipe, when suddenly from -a wood on our right a terrible rifle and machine-gun fire opened; I -couldn’t for the moment realize what had happened, but when I saw our -chaps dropping (whether shot or taking cover I couldn’t then tell), -I thought it was time for yours truly to drop, which I promptly did. -I was, however, all on my own, down among some young cabbage plants, -and I couldn’t see a soul. Bullets hit up the earth in my face, and -the cabbage leaves were perforated in no time. I started to bang away -at the enemy for all I was worth, and continued till I had only five -cartridges left. I resolved to save these, and expected every moment -for the enemy to charge. I am utterly unable to describe my feelings, -but you can take it from me I thought my last moment had arrived. It -seemed impossible I could be missed by that stream of Maxim fire, but -at last, thank goodness! a British battery noticed our predicament. -They galloped into position and fired from behind us. The noise of -their first shell seemed like a voice from heaven, and as they got -range and poured in more shells, the German fire slackened. Then I -caught sight of some of our chaps racing for a ditch to my left. I -made up my mind to chance it. I sprang up, grabbed my things, and -raced for my life. I reached that ditch on the point of exhaustion and -fell into a foot of mud and water. What a relief! One of our chaps had -been shot dead in the ditch. With three or four others I crawled about -two hundred yards till we gained the roadside and temporary safety: -_Sapper Clift, Royal Engineers_. - - -“Punched!” - -I felt as if someone had punched me in the back. A regular Jack Johnson -it was, and I went flat on the ground. There I lay for about twelve -hours. Then an officer came by and wanted to know where I was hit. I -told him, and he said the best thing I could do was to lay there for -a bit. Then I found that there was a man on each side of me, quite -dead, so I felt quite comfortable with them. Night fell and I must have -dozed off, for when I woke up it was stone dark, and I could hear the -wounded Germans crying out in agony. I felt like it myself, for I had -been lying on my stomach all the time, and it never stopped raining. I -happened to raise my head, and I saw a large fire about 500 yards away, -and I thought if I could get beside it I should feel better. I tried to -get up, but I could not. In the end I had to crawl over the dead body -on my right, and I crawled on my stomach for 500 yards till I came to -the fire. When I got there I must have fainted, for when I came round -it was just getting light. Then I heard voices. I called as much as I -could, and they heard me. I saw it was the Northampton outpost. I had -nearly gone off again when they picked me up. When they moved me I knew -the bullet had gone through my lung. They took me to the hospital and -dressed my wound: _Pte. H. L. Hook, Royal Sussex Regiment_. - - - - -IX. CORNERS IN THE FIGHT - - _Deeds - Above heroic, though in secret done, - And unrecorded left through many an age._ - - MILTON’S “Paradise Regained.” - - _Who, doomed to go in company with pain, - And fear, and bloodshed, miserable train! - Turns his necessity to glorious gain; - This is the happy warrior; this is he - Whom every man in arms should wish to be._ - - WORDSWORTH’S “Character of the Happy Warrior.” - - -An amusing thing was to hear an officer of the Royal Irish shouting -at the top of his voice, “Give ’em hell, boys, give ’em hell!” He was -already wounded in the back by a lump of shrapnel, but it was a treat -to hear him shouting: _Pte. R. Toomey, Royal Army Medical Corps_. - - -Footsore - -I pinched a German’s “bike” and tried to escape, but could not. So some -Belgian people gave me civilian clothes, and a Belgian soldier, also -a prisoner, helped me through the German patrols, and by a miracle I -escaped. I am footsore with walking in a pair of boots three sizes too -big for me: _Pte. V. Cohen, R.A.M.C._ - - -Couldn’t Miss - -The Germans rushed at us like a crowd streaming from a cup-tie at the -Crystal Palace. You could not miss them. Our bullets ploughed into -them, but still on they came. I was well entrenched, and my rifle got -so hot I could hardly hold it. I was wondering if I should have enough -bullets when a pal shouted, “Up, Guards, and at them!” The next second -he was bowled over with a nasty knock on the shoulder. He jumped and -hissed, “Let me get at them”: _Private Whittaker_. - - -What Ho! - -When we copped the German infantry without their artillery we gave them -“What Ho!” Our boys were fine marching on, or in the firing line, -always happy. One night in the trenches, waiting for the Germans, they -were singing “It’s a long way to Tipperary” and “Sing something Irish -to me,” but it was not long when the German artillery sang “Get out and -get under.” They sent some “humming birds”--I mean shells--over to us -and spoiled our concert: _Private P. McGrath_. - - -Grand Fighting - -We saw some grand fighting between our aeroplanes and theirs. You could -see them circle round each other like a couple of fighting cocks--and -then one would come down. One aeroplane was brought down with our guns. -We had had several pot-shots at it, but they did not take effect. The -first shot from one of our aerial guns brought it down, a mass of -blazing wreckage. We were told afterwards that the airman got away and -was unhurt: _Pte. J. Doolan, Northumberland Fusiliers_. - - -Swept Away - -Near to Cambrai one of our cavalry regiments ran full tilt into a -battalion of German infantry. They flung down their rifles and ran for -all they were worth, with the exception of one company, whose officers -commanded them to stand. They faced round without attempting to fire a -shot, and stood there like statues to receive the onslaught of our men. -Our lads were bound to admire their iron discipline, but you can’t make -way for sentiment in war, and our men rode straight at them with the -lance. They were swept away, and our fellows took most of the unwounded -ones prisoners: _Trooper E. Tugwell_. - - -Giving a Hand - -I have to go right up to the firing line, and when I arrive there I -have to give a hand at serving the guns. It is dangerous work, but we -don’t look at it from that standpoint: we only look to make the enemy -run. At the first battle in which the British were engaged I got a -flesh wound, but was very thankful it was nothing worse, as scores -of my comrades were falling all round me. One of our gunners was so -anxious to see the enemy that he jumped up to look, and got part of his -leg shot away as a result: _A Salvationist serving as a Royal Field -Artillery Motorman_. - - -Came Down Dead! - -I saw a fine “scrap” in the air between a British and a German -aeroplane. The British airman can move about quicker and has a much -greater speed. This is partly due to the fact that the German machines -are armoured underneath. The English airman got above the German, and -they had a fight for about a quarter of an hour. Our man emptied his -revolver into the German, who kept trying to get out of his way, but -could not owing to the Englishman’s speed. The German then seemed to -plane down in good order, but when he got to the ground he was dead: -_Pte. Herman, King’s Royal Rifles_. - - -Fisticuffs - -I was in South Africa, and that was a jolly beanfeast to what this is. -I have been all day soaked to the skin, standing knee-deep in water. -Sometimes all is quiet, then shot and shell come down like rain and -men drop out all around one; but we English Tommies know how to shoot, -and that is more than the Uhlan does. We came to fists with them once, -and we know more about that also. I downed three with my fist, and I -believe I stuck four with my bayonet before I got shot. Our officers -are simply grand. They work with us, and one pulled me out of the -trench when I was wounded and carried me a little way back: _Pte. J. -Hesselop, Essex Regiment_. - - -Not to be Shot - -I got hit by three bullets in about a minute. One went through my cap, -one smashed the magazine of my rifle, and one flattened five rounds of -ammunition in my belt. Nearly all my company wanted to shake hands with -me, telling me that I am the luckiest man in the war. I think it was a -record myself. They wanted to keep the cap, ammunition, and magazine, -but I am keeping them myself to show you when I come home. So you see -I am not to be shot with rifle bullets. At least, that is what they -say here, and I think so myself: _Pte. W. Hinton, 1st East Lancashire -Regiment_. - - -Promoted Corporal - -There is one thing I am glad to say, that I have fulfilled my -undertaking by killing I don’t know how many Germans, as they fell -before me like broken eggs. I was promoted to full corporal for -sticking it out in my blockhouse for seventy-three hours without -anything to eat or drink, only firing away all the time at the savages, -as this is what I call them. I was given a hearty cheer when the -General shook hands with me and congratulated me on my pluck, and not -forgetting the men that were with me in the blockhouse. There were four -killed and myself and two more wounded--seven altogether, so I will say -no more, but will write again soon. Give my love to all. Good-bye, from -your loving son, Bert: _Corporal B. L. Prince_. - - -Uhlans or Hussars - -Now, directly we see the Uhlans or the Prussian Hussars we make for -them. We have galloped for a mile to get at them. Once they drew us -on to the fire of their infantry. We were only two hundred yards away -when they fired on us, but at the pace we were going very few were -hit. At one time we were in line, and then in _échelon_, and after a -short hand-to-hand fight many surrendered, whilst others made off, the -machine guns accounting for many. The German cavalry have excellent -mounts, and the horses appear to be well trained. Somehow the men -haven’t got the same grit as our chaps. When they hear our yells as we -get into the stride, and they see the glint of our swords, they turn -pale, and if it wasn’t for their officers they would bolt each time: _A -Cavalryman of General de Lisle’s Brigade_. - - -Soon be Better - -I was in the firing line, and my mate next to me had one of his -fingers shot off and a bullet through his head. How I got hit, I was -bandaging his head up. I was caught in the neck just below the jaw, -and the bullet came out of my mouth. It knocked all my teeth out on -the left-hand side, and went through my tongue and lip. I ran about a -mile and a half before I could get it done up. The doctor said I was a -very lucky chap to be alive. I can hardly speak or eat. Dear mother, do -not let this upset you. I shall soon be better: _Corpl. Emery, Royal -Lancashires_. - - -In Luck! - -We were guarding a road where it was expected they would retreat; and -they did. The first lot that came along was a Maxim limber. I accounted -for the driver about 400 yards away, off the left shoulder, and someone -else accounted for his mate, but still the horses came galloping along -towards our ranks, so I thought I would try my arm at stopping them. I -did, and got well repaid, for I took them into a farm close by, lifted -the German wounded off, and went through his kit. I found a clean -change of washing--badly needed, for we had not had a change since we -left Chelsea--and something more: a bottle of champagne, three loaves -of bread, six pots of jam, and a rabbit; so you can bet I backed a -winner: _Private J. Stearn_. - - -Mighty Cool - -Both the French and the British troops display marvellous coolness -under fire, but I think the biscuit for coolness ought to go to the -battalion of infantry of the French line which we found eating its -breakfast by the roadside under a heavy German fire last week. In our -own regiment it’s not unusual to see men playing cards under fire while -waiting for the order to advance. I know of a case where one of our -chaps was just going to win the trick when the Germans sent along a -shell that hit every man of the card party, killing one and wounding -three. When one was being taken off on a stretcher he called out, “It -was the Germans won that trick”: _Private R. Duffy_. - - -Three Times - -I have had occasion to thank God three times for as many escapes from -death. The first was when we were forced back by artillery fire. A -shell fell right under my horse, but failed to explode, being probably -what is called an over-timed shell. Anyway, it was an escape! The next -time was when we were shelled out of a village. My horse was grazed by -a fragment of shrapnel and lamed, and a sharpshooter missed me, but -the bullet went through my rifle-bucket and flattened itself on the -nozzle of my rifle. The third time was when we had a most trying time -in a village and were bombarded by eight German guns. The houses were -demolished like packs of cards, but Providence looked after us, and -after six hours of mental agony we had to retire one by one across a -pontoon bridge; the other bridge had been blown up by the Germans: _A -British Cavalryman_. - - -A Marvellous Escape - -I was posted in a house, with about twelve others, firing on the enemy, -when the house was shelled, and fell in on us. It was a marvellous -escape for all of us. I can just remember falling through the roof; -but I am more than pleased to tell you I was not hurt--only shaken up -a bit. Two days after we had another go: then the shells were bursting -all round us; but we managed to get over that with very little loss. We -had another go about a week later. My company was ordered to go in a -wood to try and capture some German snipers. No sooner had we entered -the wood when the bullets started singing all round us. I had one go -right through my cap, and it cut my hair; I have still got the hat, and -if I am spared I am going to bring it home with me as a memento: _Pte. -Marsh, 1st Bedfordshire Regiment_. - - -Warm Work - -The warmest bit of work I was ever in was when I was injured. Some -seven or eight of us and about the same number of Hussars were on -patrol in a village. We had dismounted, and were talking over matters -when quite unexpectedly some shrapnel shells burst over our heads and -brought down some of the cottages. Our officer hurried up to us and -ordered us to mount and retire. When we had all mounted he shouted, -“Gallop away; every man for himself!” I just remember being hit in the -left thigh first. At the same moment the old mare seemed to falter a -little. The enemy had our range to a yard, and again and again the -shells burst among and above us, bringing some of the fellows down, -man and horse. Then something struck me in the right hip, but we kept -on, and after five or ten minutes’ ride we came on our own regiment -dismounted for action. I think about seven or eight of us got through: -_A Private of the 12th Lancers_. - - -“Breath-stoppers” - -There was a farmhouse up the hill, and from this a Maxim gun was -pouring out a continuous stream of little “breath-stoppers.” The -British fixed bayonets and charged the house. On the farm were found -about a score of the enemy, who made absolutely no resistance. On the -contrary they laughed, and were thankful it was all over and that they -were safe. On searching the bushes it was found that several of the -enemy had taken refuge--some were dead and others wounded. One feigned -having been shot, but after being carried down the hill by a British -soldier and finding he was safe, he was all right. He confirms the -stories that have come to hand from many sources that the Germans fear -the British bayonet: _Pte. V. Wells, Worcestershire Regiment_. - - -Ghostly! - -One night we were lying quietly in some woods when we heard the rattle -of hoofs all along the road making enough noise to wake the whole -dead in all the graveyards of the world. There was a regiment of the -Kaiser’s pets, the Uhlans, coming along as lively as larks on a summer -morning. We waited for them at the bend of the road, just close to the -cemetery, and when we crashed into them I think they imagined we were -ghosts. Very tough we were, to be sure, and a ghost that feels for -your ribs with a lance at midnight is an ugly customer to deal with. -Those chaps didn’t half howl with rage and fear when we went into them, -and as soon as they could turn their horses they were off down the -road like blue murder. We captured half of them, and cut up the rest: -_Sergt. Diamond, of the Lancers_. - - -Blue with Lead - -There is no doubt about the personal bravery of the Germans. I saw a -file of them coming down a slight hillock, and twenty or so were hit -and toppled down over each other, exactly the same as ninepins. The -wonderful thing is that any of us came out of it alive. As I looked -up from the trenches, the sky was blue with flying lead. After the -fighting had gone on for five hours a bullet passed through the lobe -of my left ear, and, after scarring the back of my neck, tore a piece -off my coat collar, which was up at the time. The same bullet killed -the man behind me. I felt myself growing faint, and gave my name and -the name of my mother to my mate next to me, and then I seem to have -fainted. When I recovered consciousness my mate was dead: _A Sergeant -of the South Lancashire Regiment_. - - -Don’t Mind! - -It was butchers’ work. We just rained shells on the German gunners -until we were deaf and choking. I don’t think a gun on the position -could have been sold for scrap iron after we had finished, and the -German gunners would be just odd pieces of clothing and bits of -accoutrement. It seems swanky to say so, but once you get over the -first shock you’ll go on chewing biscuits or tobacco when the shells -are bursting all round. You don’t seem to mind it any more than smoking -in a hailstorm. Then you get pulled up with a jerk when your mate on -the left curls up in a heap. War is rotten, but you can even get used -to working in a candle-factory. We hated smells more than we did the -Germans: _An Artilleryman_. - - -Not Much Left - -One night after a very hard day in the trenches, when we were wet to -the skin, we had lighted fires to dry our tunics, and were at it when -we heard firing along our front, and then the Germans came at us like -madmen. We had to tackle them in our shirt-sleeves. It was mainly -bayonet work, and hard work at that. They were well supported by -cavalry, who tried to ride us down in the dark, but we held our ground -until reinforcements came, and then we drove them off with a fine rush -of our cavalry and infantry. At one point there was a fine race between -our battalion and one of the Lancer regiments as to which should get at -the Germans first. We were handicapped a bit because we hadn’t horses, -but we won in the end, and charged right into the German hordes with -the bayonet. After that the Lancers came up, and there wasn’t much left -for anybody else when the Germans were done with: _Private A. Tims_. - - -One More River - -We got our orders early in the morning to get across the Aisne, and -we had to turn out early. It was very cold, and there was a heavy -rain; but we got our pipes set a-going, and we were all right then. -When we got up the river the fun began. There were no bridges, but the -Engineers had made some rafts. Six men got on each raft, and with the -burden we were up to the knees in water, and we were hauled across -to the other side by a rope. When we got to the other side we got it -hotter than ever. Some time after this three of us were lying in a -field. I was smoking my pipe, and my chum was puffing at a cigarette. -The man next my chum hadn’t a match, and wanted a light badly, and -he got up to get a “touch” from my chum. As soon as he rose the poor -beggar was hit with a shell and killed: _Pte. Hamish, King’s Own -Scottish Borderers_. - - -A Revolver Story - -In the mad rush through the village Dodds was also shot badly in the -leg, and the poor horse, which was carrying us two, was brought down. -The result was that the two of us fell helpless to the ground, and -we were immediately surrounded by a crowd of Germans, who yelled and -acted like a lot of savages. We saw them tearing practically every bit -of clothing from one of our poor chaps who had been killed, and in my -own case they stripped me of everything but my trousers and shirt. -They took from me the revolver that I had taken from a German officer, -and one of them was about to strip me of my shirt when a funny thing -occurred. I often laugh when I think of it. When I was looking up and -trying to think as little as possible about my arm, who should stand -above me but the captured German officer whose guard had been killed. -He said, “You are the man who took my revolver. Let me have it back -instantly.” I said that I had not got it, and that one of his own men -had relieved me of it. “Then come with me,” he said, “and find the man -who took it, and I shall have him shot.” I went around with him as a -matter of form, but I was not having any: _Lance-Corpl. M. Nolan, Royal -Scots Greys_. - - -At the Fords - -The fiercest fighting took place when the Germans tried to force -a passage of the river at various points. As they came up the -fords--every one of which was commanded by our artillery and bodies -of picked French and British riflemen--they were galled terribly by -the rifle fire, and we kept plugging them with shells as fast as we -could. For a while it didn’t seem to be of any use, for as one man -fell another stepped forward to take his place, but he only struggled -on a few yards before falling in his turn before the hellish fire we -poured on them. They had evidently made up their minds to get the -pontoons into position regardless of cost in lives. The first party got -theirs in position nicely, and then came rushing across like a swarm -of bees rushing out of their hives to see what was wrong. A shell from -a French battery hidden on our left dropped right on to them, and the -thing went toppling into the river with its human load, being carried -downstream under a heavy rifle and shell fire. The same thing went on -the whole day, until we were sick of the sight, and mists of blood were -floating before our eyes, and the cries of the drowning and dying men -were always ringing in our ears. That was the daily programme as I saw -it until I got hit and was sent home. Only at one point did they manage -to cross the river, and then they had to face a bayonet charge from the -Allies’ infantry, who rushed on them with rare joy and hurled them back -into the river: _A Driver of the Royal Artillery_. - - -War--and Peace! - -It was a jolly hot shop. A lot of the chaps of the section of ---- -Battery were wounded. I cannot explain everything, only when those -shells were bursting all around us and over us, and the rifle and -machine-gun bullets were dropping and whizzing round us, a lot of us -thought of home and other things. We had to man-handle our guns out, -while the other batteries drew their fire. We had one officer left. We -were complimented by the colonel, who repeated General French’s and -General Gough’s orders that they were proud of us for the cool and -brave way in which we worked the gun under heavy fire. Our colonel, -poor old chap, nearly cried. He said: “Needless to say, lads, I am -proud of you too,” and he walked away. He could not say any more. I -don’t want to be in another action like that. The prettiest sight I saw -out here was one hot day when we were retreating. We were all paraded, -tired and hungry. We went through a little village. At the end of the -village there was a little convent, and the nuns in their long grey -uniform and white headdress, with crucifix hanging on their breast, -were distributing wine and fruit to us as we marched through. They -were lovely little women; and the way they came out went straight to -my heart. They looked so good, pure, and holy. It is a picture I shall -always remember: _Gunner Osborne, Royal Horse Artillery_. - - -Hard Going! - -I was on patrol duty the other day. I can’t tell you the name of the -place, but there was a chum of mine, an officer, and myself. We met -five German Uhlans going down the road. They were in front of us, so we -got on the grass on the side of the road and galloped right on top of -them. They saw us when we were about eight yards away. They tried to -get away from us, but we were into them. Our officer got the first one -with his sword, and as the German fell out of the saddle the officer’s -horse fell over him. That left me and my mate for the other four. Even -then they would not face us. All the better for us. I got the next -fellow. I put my sword right through him, and my mate did the same with -another. Then we went after the other two. Both of us got up to one of -them at the same time, and he got both swords through him. He did try -to defend himself, for he got me on the lip with his lance and knocked -two of my teeth out and took a piece out of my lip. It was not much, -but he will never take any more pieces out, for he got both our swords -into him. While we were trying to draw our swords out the last of the -Uhlans got off his horse and tried to escape in the woods. I fell off -my horse in my haste trying to get up to shoot him. All the same I shot -him through the head, and he was as dead as a door-nail when I got up -to him: _Private M. Ferguson_. - - -Connaught Rangers - -The dear old Rangers have had their fair share of the fighting. Still, -they’re ready for as much more as the Germans want, and it won’t be -our fault if every man of ours that has gone to face his Maker with -an unshriven soul hasn’t at least a dozen German trash to keep him -company. There’s a lot of talk about the disloyalty of the Irish -people, but, sure, when it comes to the bit, and England needs soldiers -to fight for her, she knows she can rely on the Irishmen. There’s not a -man in the Rangers would let any German trample on the Union Jack, no -matter what his views about Home Rule and the need for making England -recognize our right to nationality. The Rangers have lived up to their -character as fine fighters, and they have been in some very hard -scraps, you may be sure. One day we were sent to help a battery of our -artillery that had got into difficulties, and was like to be carried -off by the Germans. There was little time to spare, as the Germans were -pressing hard on both flanks, and there was fear we might be cut off if -we didn’t get on the move. We rushed at them with the bayonet at the -double, and swept them away like the dust goes before the wind. It was -hard fighting, and many of us got hit, but our charge made it easy for -the guns to be got away in safety: _Private P. O’Hanlon_. - - -The Best of It - -They were in front of us before we had time to entrench ourselves, and -we had to make the best of what cover we could find in a country as -level as Glasgow Green. Still, we made the best of it, and the Germans -were far from getting it all their own way. They came on us in swarms, -but we sent them back time and again, and if it had not been for their -shrapnel we could have been peppering them yet. As it was, we were -suddenly alive to the fact that there was a trenchful of them lying -quiet just in front of us, waiting to catch us on the retreat, and it -was with a demoniacal howl we received the order to charge. It was a -charge with the pipes playing for all they were worth, and you could -hear the roll of the kettledrums above the sound of the firing. Our -men bayoneted all who could not get out of the trench, about 600 of -them; and the Middlesex Regiment got in on all who ran. It was a bloody -fray, no quarter being asked nor given, and as we returned to our first -position we were satisfied that we had given much more than our enemies -expected from us: _Pte. A. M‘Nally, Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders_. - - -Charge of the London Scots - -We took up a position allotted to us, and just when we had settled -down to it a staff officer came along, and we were told we were going -to have a chance of showing whether we were “show” soldiers or the -real thing. We could have yelled for joy.... After covering a short -distance we were sent across the fields in open order. We found some -of our cavalry dismounted and holding a line of trenches quite close -to the Germans. Just then we came under fire from the rifles and the -machine guns. It was a bit unnerving at first, and some of our chaps -didn’t like it, but we pressed steadily on, taking advantage of every -bit of cover. It was a matter of lying down every few minutes, and then -rushing forward a few yards, until we came right up to their trenches. -As we got close the German rifle fire ceased almost, and we saw their -infantry stand up in the trenches to receive our attack. I must say -they struck me as being game chaps, and after what I had heard about -their fear of the bayonet I was a bit surprised. We were now near -enough to see the fierce glare in the eyes of the enemy as they waited -for us. We gave them one great volley and then bayonets were fixed, -and in a long line we charged down on their trenches. The madness of -that charge I shall never forget. There was no time to think of fear or -danger. We were mad drunk with the excitement. The blood was coursing -in our veins at express speed, and our only thought was to close in -the death-grip with the foe. Some of our boys yelled out “Scotland -for ever!” and others were as silent as the grave. Their lines were -strengthened at every point, and they made a great stand against us, -but we were fresh, and we slashed right and left with a will. They -weakened after the first shock, and gradually fell back, fighting inch -by inch, but each step we forced them back, their pace became quicker, -and then they broke into a mad race for life: _A Member of the London -Scottish_. - - -Beside a Windmill - -The hardest fight, in my opinion, took place around a block of farm -buildings, with a windmill in the centre and cattle quietly grazing -close by. There was a Franco-British force of not more than 800 -bayonets in possession, and near by some British cavalry were posted. -Under cover of darkness the Germans made a sudden sweep round the -position, threw back the cavalry after a hot fight, and had the -little force completely cut off from headquarters. They brought up -artillery and began to batter down the walls of the buildings, and -when they had made a big gap in the wall of the stable, a battalion -of infantry made a rush for it with the bayonet. The defenders stood -there quietly shooting down the Germans as they came along, but it was -worse than shooting mosquitoes with automatic pistols. They hit many, -but there were others behind, and they kept coming on. The defenders -fired their last shot, and the building was rushed by the Germans, who -simply swarmed in. Into the corner the handful of men went with their -bayonets, determined to sell their lives dearly. The Germans stood at -the doorway firing into them, and when only three remained standing the -Germans rushed on them and overpowered them. From the stable the attack -was then developed in like fashion against the rest of the buildings. -One of the gables was sent crumbling down, exposing the defenders to -a withering rifle fire, and then the roof toppled in with a crash, -burying all that were left of the brave men beneath the ruins. Not a -man in that building escaped unhurt, and of the whole force engaged -in defending the position only twenty were captured by the Germans -unwounded. We avenged them finely the next day: _A Private of the -Warwickshire Regiment_. - - -Against Big Odds - -Our machine gun began yapping, but its noise was little better than -that of a toy terrier against a brace of bulldogs, and we didn’t count -much on it. Part of the regiment lay in the trenches firing away at -the Germans for all they were worth, but we didn’t count much on -that either. We knew that the good old bayonet would have to be our -mainstay, and so one of the companies was ordered to get ready for the -rush across the intervening space. We were out in a brace of shakes, -and there was no loitering by the way, for the sooner we got there the -easier would it be. Half way across they found our range with the guns, -and shrapnel dropped all around. Our chaps were suffering badly, and -seemed to get a bit weak in their advance. Nobody could blame them, for -it was awful work. The officer in command simply called out, “Remember, -men, the Black Watch never wavers. Forward!” That knocked on the head -any idea of wavering, and we were off again like a party of merry -trippers at the beginning of the Glasgow Fair holidays. We got there -in the end, but at a terrible price, and we found the Germans ready -for us. We went in without a word or a cheer. After we had driven them -off, they were on to us again before we had time to make the position -secure. We beat them back, but they came on over and over again. The -last time I think it would have gone hard with us, indeed, but for an -unexpected diversion. A French aeroplane appeared overhead and began -signalling to a point in our rear. This scared the Germans, who feared -a big force was moving to cut them off, and they fell back. Before they -had had time to find out their mistake a brigade of infantry arrived -to our assistance, and then the enemy cleared off for good. That was -one of the closest things for us; and it was a miracle that we pulled -through against such terrible odds as were thrown against us that -night: _A Private of the Black Watch_. - - -“Nesting” Time - -The Germans took full advantage of the woods. Sharpshooters and even -machine guns were posted on the trees, and they did terrible execution -amongst our men, who were unable to see them. You approached a wood -that appeared quite peaceful and an ideal place for a quiet rest. -Suddenly you awoke to the fact that every tree was a fortress, and -bullets began to drop all round just like acorns from the trees -at home. For an enemy the woods have many advantages, but the -disadvantages must not be overlooked. We saw enough of them to bring -home to us that tree-fighting is not all a picnic. One day we had -reason to suspect that the enemy were trying their trick in the woods -on our left. The French artillery opened fire, and as we advanced we -found the wood blazing from end to end. From all directions came the -agonizing cries of the Germans who were concealed in the trees. They -had no hope of getting away in many cases, and simply had to stay in -their perches until suffocation brought a merciful end. A few of them -did escape, and dashed out to our lines in terror. We ceased fire and -did the best we could for them, but that wasn’t much. On another day -we advanced into a wood that was held in force by the enemy. They were -bent on contesting every inch of the ground, and what we had to do was -to shelter behind each tree as we advanced, firing at the next where -one or more Germans were posted. We had to keep that sort of thing up -for a day, and when night fell it was doubly dangerous work. Still, we -had to keep at it, and in the end we drove them out. Our chaps and the -French are ready to do their share of “nesting” in the trees when it is -necessary to resist the Germans, and we have had plenty of that kind -of fighting. It requires a lot of courage, and is terribly risky all -through: _A Corporal of the Middlesex Regiment_. - - - - -X. HIT AND MISSED - - - _There is a victory in dying well - For Freedom--and ye have not died in vain._ - - THOMAS CAMPBELL. - - _Into the valley of Death - Rode the six hundred!_ - - * * * * * - - _Storm’d at with shot and shell, - While horse and hero fell, - They that had fought so well - Came thro’ the jaws of Death, - Back from the mouth of Hell, - All that was left of them, - Left of six hundred._ - - TENNYSON’S “Charge of the Light Brigade.” - - -In one of our rearguard actions an officer was saying to me, “I am not -good enough to die yet.” He had not spoken the words before he was shot -through the brain, and the man on the left had his head blown off by -a shell. You know I wasn’t severely religious, but I’m inclined to be -now: _Pte. Watts, 4th Grenadiers_. - - -A “Charmed Life” - -I bore a charmed life. A bullet went through the elbow of my jacket, -another through my equipment, and a piece of shrapnel found a -resting-place in a tin of bully-beef which was on my back. I was picked -up eventually during the night, nearly dead from loss of blood: _A -Private of the Black Watch_. - - -The Seventh Time - -I am all right, but very nearly got shot in a trench by the Germans. -I got on my knees to dig a bit of earth to get comfortable when they -spotted me. Then about ten shots came in quick succession. One sent my -cap off. Down I got, and jolly quick. This is the seventh time I have -escaped being hit: _Pte. Oliver, Yorkshire Light Infantry_. - - -Making a Hole - -I was standing with a chum, watching the artillery fire. “Look at the -smoke,” I said to him. A moment later a shell came screaming down, and -I was knocked kicking by the suction. My chum simply said, “Lordy, look -at the hole,” and then I saw I was lying on the edge of a hole made -by the shell large enough to bury a horse in: _Pte. J. Charley, East -Surrey Regiment_. - - -A Hero Indeed - -When I got hit, I couldn’t say how long I lay there, but a chum of -mine, Tommy Quaife, under a perfect hail of bullets and shells dragged -me to safety and said, “Cheer up, Smiler, here’s a fag. I’m going back -for Sandy (his other chum).” He never got there. Poor Tommy got a piece -of shell and was buried the same night. If ever a hero lived he was -one: Sergt. _J. Rolfe, 2nd Batt. King’s Royal Rifles_. - - -A Changed View - -We put in some wonderfully effective shooting in the trenches, and the -men find it is much easier making good hits on active service than at -manœuvres. The Germans seemed to think at first that we were as poor -shots as they are, and they were awfully sick when they had to face our -deadly fire for the first time: _Pte. M. O’Keefe, Royal Irish Rifles_. - - -“Oh, Bill!” - -Just as I was hit, I said, “Oh, Bill, it has knocked my foot up. Pick -it up for me.” He said, “It is all right. Keep still,” and he tied -something round my leg to stop the blood running. Then the doctor came -up. He said, “The stretchers will be up just now”; but as soon as he -went away I was making for the field hospital on my hands and knees. I -got so far, and was having a rest when the doctor gave me a lift: _Pte. -Wilde, Worcestershire Regiment_. - - -“Hell on Earth” - -About midday a German aeroplane, flying the Union Jack and the French -colours, came flying down on our positions. We thought it was our own -craft, but wherever she dipped the German artillery took range, and as -soon as she got up out of our reach they simply poured their shells -upon us. Within ten minutes we had five killed and forty-seven wounded, -and a number we cannot account for. One shell came blowing my knapsack -off my back, and made a hole through my waterproof sheet. It was just -like hell on earth: _Pte. A. Fricker, 1st Gloucestershire Regiment_. - - -His Kilt Torn - -As I was crawling on hands and knees to the base, bullets whizzed -around me and shrapnel fell within a few feet. I had my kilt pierced -on eight occasions. Everybody who has seen the holes in my kilt says -what a marvellous escape it was. I had escaped without any additional -scratch, even though I had my gun shattered to pieces in my hand: _A -Corporal of the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders_. - - -“Not Me!” - -Who was going to stop with the transport? Not me! I was sent for a -box of ammunition, and was carrying it on my shoulder when a shrapnel -splinter struck the box and knocked me down. All our fellows thought I -was dead, and one or two came running to me, but I got up all right and -went back to the trenches. I had a pop at ’em with a rifle. Ever seen a -shrapnel drop? _A Drummer Boy of the Cheshire Regiment_. - - -A Pat on the Ankle - -I had the misfortune to have a pat on the ankle. I was placed on the -tool cart, and had a ride with some others who had had a taste of -German shells. One of our chaps had a narrow squeak. A bullet took his -cap off, and a groove was cut through his hair, but it did not hurt -him. It was just the same as if his hair was parted in the centre, for -the bullet carried away the hair without hurting the scalp: _Sapper -McKenney, 1st Div. Royal Engineers_. - - -Doing Well - -My Dear Wife,--I hope that you have been getting my letters and -postcards that I have sent to you since I have been out here. Well, -dear, I am sorry to tell you I have been wounded, but it is not so -serious as it might have been. I got hit in the head by a piece of -shell, and the wound is getting on very nicely up to the time of -writing. Do not worry yourself; we are all being treated splendidly: -_Pte. A. E. Bell, of the Rifle Brigade_. - - -Blown Up! - -I picked one chap up who had been shot, and asked for someone to come -and help me, and the two of us were picking him up when a shell burst -between us. We were blown up in the air, and turned a somersault, and -it is marvellous that neither of us was hurt. The chap we were picking -up was not so lucky, for he was hit a second time. However, we got him -up and took him back to the ambulance. The Germans finally blew down -our barricade and everything that was movable, and we retired to the -trenches, three miles away: _A Lance-Corporal of the Royal Marines_. - - -Disagreeable - -I have had some close shaves. Once I looked up for a second at an -aeroplane flying overhead, and a couple of bullets just missed me by -a hair’s-breadth. One day I was filling my water-bottle at the stream -when it was shot out of my hand, and another bullet ripped into my -coat and was stopped against the photos of you and the children. Last -night in the trenches I dreamt I was back home again and was playing -with little Gracie and telling her some stories of the fighting: _Pte. -Hamson, King’s Royal Rifles_. - - -Green Fireworks - -I have had the narrowest escape of my life. The horse I was riding got -knocked out altogether by a shell, and while I was getting another one -to put in its place a shell came and put three of us out of action. -I managed to scramble out of it for about two miles, when I dropped -unconscious, and the next place I found myself in was a French hospital -with enough bandage round my head to make a girl a dress. You ought to -see the sight of a battlefield; it is just like the Crystal Palace on -a firework day but for the men and horses dropping: _Driver T. Tyler, -Royal Field Artillery_. - - -Heavy Fire - -The second day we were under heavy fire, and we had to retreat; but -the next morning we regained the trenches. Then we came under heavy -fire again, and it was at this time that I received my wound. “Have you -got it, old boy?” said my mate, George Hunter. Only about ten minutes -afterwards Hunter himself received in rapid succession five shots in -the thigh and groin. He quickly died from hæmorrhage, and lies buried -in France. I myself had to lie upon the ground for eleven hours before -I was carried to an ambulance wagon: _Pte. Whitehead, Norfolk Regiment_. - - -Dead as a Nail - -The German had killed several of our fellows before I knocked him over. -As they were going through a gate--“piff”--and down they went. We knew -by the sound that the rifleman could not be far, and we kept looking -out for him, for there were no large bodies of Germans about. At last I -saw a flash coming from a tree, and I took two aims at him, and then we -saw him swaying to and fro, dead as a nail, but tied with a rope to the -tree: _Pte. Jakeman, West Riding Regiment_. - - -Stone Dead - -We came to a wood that looked as if it had been occupied by the -Germans. Sure enough, there was a sentry standing all by himself under -the trees with a rifle in his hands. We were in his direct line, so he -couldn’t help seeing us, but he made not the slightest sound or sign of -being put out. We crept close to have a better squint at him, because -there was something uncommon in the look of him, and then we saw what -was the matter. The poor chap was stone dead: _Corpl. Miller, Army -Service Corps_. - - -Kicked - -I had the misfortune to get three bullets through my right leg. It -feels just like getting a kick from a horse. It’s worse if the bullet -strikes a bone, but by a bit of luck all three bullets went clean -through my leg. They were from a machine gun, and it happened just -after we had cleared the Germans out of a wood in order that we might -put up there for the night. I was more fortunate in South Africa, when -I was serving in the 5th Mounted Infantry, for then I only received a -slight shell wound: _Corporal F. Price_. - - -Killed Instantly - -After the battle the men rested in a deserted village where the one or -two inhabitants who remained boiled some eggs for them and provided -them with some refreshments. In the deserted shops enough tobacco was -secured to make a cigarette each for most of the Cheshires, but they -had only one box of matches between the whole battalion. A number of -the Cheshires were sitting in a cottage having some tea. The door was -open, and a drummer-boy was sitting near. Suddenly a bullet whizzed -just past his face and struck a corporal, who was at that moment -drinking tea from a cup, killing him instantly! _Private Whitlow_. - - -Waited for Them - -One night, while we were lying prone behind some earthworks, we heard -the sound of hoofs. For a time we could not detect the intruders, so -kept quite still. Then a light flickered out in the distance, then -another disclosing a party of Uhlans, who, thinking they had the -country to themselves, were lighting their pipes. We allowed them to -advance, joking among themselves, until they were within close range. -Then we gave them a volley. Three were killed, and the remainder, very -scared, galloped off: _A Corporal of a Highland Regiment_. - - -A Clover Field - -I got a bullet through my shoulder that put my right arm out of action. -I dropped in a clover field. The machine guns were sweeping the hill, -and the bullets were cutting the clover tops about six inches above -my head. I dare not move, as I would have been riddled, and the whole -of the line had gone on. I lay there over two hours trying to get a -bandage on my wound. When I heard the guns becoming silent, I jumped up -and ran behind a haystack, where I found thirty more men all smothered -with blood. We bandaged one another up as best we could, and lay there -until dark, when a doctor arrived, and those alive were removed with -stretchers. We got some hot tea, the first drop for five days: _Pte. -Cundell, Northamptonshire Regiment_. - - -A Busy Marksman - -When I found I could not walk I gave it up. Just after I got my first -view of the Germans. They were coming out of a wood 400 yards away all -in a heap together, so I thought as I was done for I would get a bit -of my own back, and so I started pumping a bit of lead into them. I -stuck there for about three-quarters of an hour, and fired all my own -ammunition and a lot belonging to two more wounded men who were close -to me--about 300 rounds altogether, and as it was such a good target I -guess I accounted for a good lot of them. Then I suddenly discovered I -could walk, and so I set off to get back. I had to walk about 150 yards -in the open, with shrapnel bursting abound me all the way: _Private G. -A. Turner_. - - -Bits of Shrapnel - -I was wounded by shrapnel. When the shell burst in the air about 300 -bullets flew in all directions. I was hit on the right shoulder. At -first it did not hurt, and I continued to fight for about an hour. Then -another shell burst, and I got a small wound on my left shoulder and a -bullet through my left arm. It was in the forearm, and it came out just -above the back of the elbow, and it fractured the bone. I have been -under X-rays, and I am pleased to say there is nothing left in either -shoulder, but there are little bits of shrapnel left in the elbow: -_Pte. W. Struthers, Northumberland Fusiliers_. - - -In the Eye - -While looking over the top of the trench a shell burst in front, and -something hit me in the eye. It seemed like a blow from a sledgehammer, -and down I went. When I came to about an hour after I found our chaps -had beaten the enemy off, though the shells still came over. I had -a bandage round my head, also a terrible aching. To improve matters -rain started falling heavily, but I could not be moved till daybreak. -I was then taken to the nearest field hospital, had my wound bathed -and dressed, and then was moved by motor ambulance to another field -hospital about ten miles away. I stayed there a day, and again motored -some distance to a town, and from there came by rail to this hospital, -the train journey taking thirty hours: _Sergt. Guest, Black Watch_. - - -“’Nuf Said” - -I had a bullet taken out of my leg yesterday, and I shall have to have -my own back. You see, we were in the field, and the Germans were in the -bush, and our officer told us to retire for a few yards, as he could -see better cover from the enemy’s shot and shell. The first man got up -and got back safely. Your humble was No. 2. I got up to go, and one of -the Germans took a penalty. “’Nuf said!” Final score--One, nil. But, -you see, we always play a return match, and it will then be my turn for -both points. The Germans are a very big set of fellows, taking them -on the whole; but what rifle shots! If the majority of them were in -an empty house, they would not be able to hit it, because the bullets -would go up the chimney. You may say, “They were good enough to hit -you.” But that was more by good luck than by good management: _Private -J. B. Coates_. - - -Made Comfortable - -It was about six o’clock in the morning when I received my souvenir. -It was almost impossible for a wounded man to get back from the firing -line without being riddled. I stayed in the trench until five in the -evening. The noise was deafening, shrapnel bursting all over the place -and raining bullets. I determined to try and get back to have my wound -dressed, and I crawled back somehow, rolled down on to a road, crawled -along again for a few hundred yards, and presently got in touch with -some stretcher-bearers, who carried me to a doctor. I with many others -lay in a barn for two days, and the shells from the enemy’s big guns -burst unpleasantly near the hospital the whole time. After a two days’ -ride in cattle trucks we reached a good hospital, where we were made -comfortable: _Pte. G. Sims, 1st Batt. South Wales Border Regiment_. - - -Couldn’t Move - -I was really fascinated by the shells, and was not really thinking of -anything at all. Suddenly a shell burst over my head and it got me -right in the back. I could feel my horse getting lower and lower; I -put my hand behind me and felt a lot of hot wet. I wondered if I could -get him over the ditch, but just before I got to it he rolled over -into it with me. My troop sergeant came and asked me if I could get -up. I said, “No, mate, I can’t move; I’ll have to stop here.” Then -back came the trumpeter with Captain ----, and he asked me the same -thing. If I couldn’t get on a spare horse they would have to leave me -there. I said, “Very well, sir, I’ll stop. You had better clear out.” -I crawled along the ditch to get out of the way of the shells, which -were bursting a long time after my squadron had gone to cover. I lay -there about four hours in a semi-conscious state, and when I came round -I found I had buried my head in the mud trying to get out of the way of -the shells: _A Lance-Corporal of Hussars_. - - -“Flying All Round” - -The bullets and shells were flying all round, and did not cease until -after dark. Then was my only chance to get out. I crawled on my hands -and knees to a little inn, and there my wounds were dressed. To-day -since I have been in hospital shrapnel has been bursting all round, -but the hospital was not touched except for one bullet which struck -a window. The bullet that wounded me went into one breast pocket and -came out of the other, and in its course it passed through your photo, -making a hole in the breast. What a strange coincidence! It then passed -through my watch and struck a large clasp knife, smashing it to pieces -and driving it through my pocket: _Sergt. E. W. Turner, Royal West Kent -Regiment_. - - -Got Away - -I got an awful wound in the left hip. A shell burst in the trenches -close to me, killing five of our chaps; so I had a lucky get off. I -had to lie in the trench wounded all day, as the battle was so fierce -they could not take me to cover. A few days before this happened I -and another of our chaps were captured by some Germans. They took -everything I had, even my watch and chain. The escort took us to a barn -for the night. We laid down and made out as if we were asleep. We could -hear them talking, and they touched us, but we did not move, so they -lay down themselves and soon dropped off to sleep. There were eleven of -us altogether. Then we thought they were all right and sound asleep, -so I seized a German rifle next to me, which was fully loaded, and I -touched my mate and we both moved slyly away. I was determined to shoot -the first German that moved and make a run for it; but we got away all -right and slept the night in a wood: _Pte. Evenden, 1st Coldstream -Guards_. - - -“Got Me, Too!” - -“Come on now, lads,” said our officer, and we went running on as hard -as we could. We had got to take the hill, you see, or smash the Germans -that were on it. At last we got quite near--not 150 yards from the -trenches. I and two pals of mine and two others got behind a hedge and -started to blaze away. We lost our sick feeling then. There was one -chap got hit in the face with a shrapnel bullet. “Hurt, Bill?” I said -to him. “Good luck to the old regiment,” said he. Then he rolled over -on his back. There was a grey German helmet over the side of the trench -with a rifle under it. I let that German have a bullet all to himself. -I saw his helmet roll back and his rifle fly up. Then I got on my knees -to bandage up a pal, and just as I moved there was a smash on my side. -They’d got me, too, and I rolled over and thought I was done for: _Pte. -S. Smith, 1st Warwickshire Regiment_. - - -A Passing Shell - -One day I was in front of my horses with my back to the enemy, just -putting on my nosebags, when a shell from somewhere fell between the -horses and put the whole six on the ground. I was pulled up in the air -by my horse, and he dropped on his back dead. The wheel-horses were -struggling, and my wheel-driver was lying dead with his face blown -away. I did not get touched, but no sooner did the devils see that -their shells were effective than they opened fire with the whole lot of -their big guns, twelve in all, and I don’t know how many machine guns. -The din was horrible, shells screaming and whistling around me, and the -pop-pop-pop of the Maxims. I ran round to the gun and tried to get it -unlimbered, but the horses were struggling in the wheel harness and I -could not move it. Then I felt a twitch in my arm. I saw blood on my -sleeve, and the hole where the bullet went in. The use of my arm was -gone. I did not know what to do. I dropped down and crawled out of the -firing line. Another fellow came along with a wound in his hand, and -we sat there talking together till we were picked up by an ambulance: -_Driver G. Chiswell, Royal Horse Artillery_. - - -Stuck to Him - -I was told to go back to the farmhouse and cut the horses loose. I did -so. Then God answered my prayer, and I had strength to run through a -line of rifle fire over barbed wire covered by a hedge, and managed to -get out of range, and then I fell for want of water. I had just about -two teaspoonfuls in my bottle; then I went on struggling my way through -hedges to a railway line. When I got through I saw a man of the Royal -Irish with six wounds from shrapnel. I managed to carry him about half -a mile and found water; then he was as happy as if he were not wounded. -I stuck to him although he was heavy and I was feeling weak and tired. -I had to carry him across a big field of turnips; when half way I -slipped and we both fell. I had a look back, and could see the fire -mountains high. I then saw one of my own regiment, and with the help -of two Frenchmen we soon got the Irishman on a shutter to a house and -dressed him. We got him away from the village, which was being shelled, -and then met a company of Cameronian Highlanders and handed him over to -them: _Pte. G. Kay, of the Royal Scots_. - - -Anchored! - -“We’re in for it,” says I to Tommy Gledhill, my chum. “Anything’s -better than lying here,” said he. “Anyhow, it will warm us up just as -well as brandy, and it’ll help a few more Germans to a place where -they’ll not be bothered with chills.” Sure enough, it was as hot as -anyone could wish it to be. The Germans were in their best fighting -form. They came right up to where we were posted, stopping every few -yards to fire into us. Then they came for us with the bayonet, and -there was as nice a set-to in the muggy downpour as you could ask for. -It was ugly work while it lasted. In the soaked ground it was difficult -enough to keep a foothold, but if you want a really tough job just try -a little bayonet exercise with a heavy German dancing around you trying -to jab a bayonet into you if you should happen to slip in the mud. -That’ll give you an idea of what we came through. “Anchored!” We don’t -like to be called that at any time, but that morning we were proud when -the brigadier called us the old “Stick-in-the-Muds,” and I dare say -if it hadn’t been for the fact that some of us caught the wheeze of -anchoring ourselves at least a foot deep in the mud we might have been -swept away. As it was, it was the Germans who were swept away, and you -might say that they were properly rolled in blood and mud, for when any -of them went down in that fight they were a sight for sore eyes, or I’m -a horse marine: _A Private of the Grenadier Guards_. - - -Carted to Hospital - -We had not marched more than 500 yards, and got to the outskirts of the -town, when we heard a cavalry patrol coming towards us, the officers -speaking in French. Our captain immediately challenged in French, and -we got no reply. The captain then realized they were Germans, and -the order came, “Fire!” The German officers dashed forward and seized -the muzzles of the front-rank rifles a second before we had the order -“Fire!” and a proper mêlée took place. A German slashed one of our -chaps’ head nearly off. All of them (Germans) were wiped out in a few -seconds. After that we fired volleys as they charged down on us, and -they never got within 50 yards of us. They brought a big gun, and then -it was a perfect hell. The gun was only 400 yards away, and was blazing -shrapnel into us. Five times we silenced it. It was hell all night. I -was shot, and carted off to hospital. My rifle stopped the bullet, and -saved my life, or I should have got it in the chest: _A Guardsman, at -Mons_. - - - - -XI. ADVANCE AND RETREAT - - _What rights are his that dare not strike for them?_ - - TENNYSON. - - _Kabul town’s by Kabul river-- - Blow the bugle, draw the sword-- - There I lef’ my mate for ever, - Wet an’ drippin’ by the ford. - Ford, ford, ford o’ Kabul river, - Ford o’ Kabul river in the dark! - There’s the river up and brimmin’, and there’s ’arf a - squadron swimmin’ - ’Cross the ford o’ Kabul river in the dark._ - - RUDYARD KIPLING’S “Ford o’ Kabul River.” - - -We had a good time before we started fighting. The French people gave -us everything they had--cigarettes, chocolate, grapes, everything -imaginable. But it is a different France now the German pigs have burnt -all the houses. It does seem a shame: _Pte. A. Wilson, Bedfordshire -Regiment_. - - -“NO-o-o!” - -We passed a wounded “Joey,” whose face was deathly white from -suffering. He opened his eyes as we reached him, smiled, and called out -in a faint voice, “Are we downhearted?” We called back a hearty “No!” -that must have drowned the noise of the cannon, and then we gave three -hearty cheers, just to liven things up: _Pte. T. Ball, Royal Marine -Light Infantry_. - - -A Bold Front - -Our colonel was a perfect gentleman, and under his gallant lead -the Rangers set a bold front. In the midst of the bursting of the -German projectiles his clear, stentorian voice rang out, “Rangers of -Connaught, all eyes are upon you to-night. While you have fists and a -heart within you charge them. If you don’t, never face me in this world -nor in the next”: _Pte. W. McConville, 2d Batt. Connaught Rangers_. - - -“Shifting” Them - -I tell you we were like a lot of schoolboys at a treat when we got the -order to fix bayonets, for we knew we should shift them then. We had -about 200 yards to cover before we got near them, and then we let them -have it in the neck. It put you in mind of tossing hay, only we had -human bodies: _Pte. G. Bridgeman, 4th Royal Fusiliers_. - - -Dug It Out - -Stormed at all the way, we kept on, and no one was hit until we came to -a white house which stood in a clearing. Immediately the officer passed -the gap hell was let loose on us, but we got across safely, and I was -the only one wounded, and that was with a ricochet shrapnel bullet in -the right knee. I knew nothing about it until an hour after, when I had -it pointed out to me. I dug it out with a knife: _Private Smiley, at -Mons_. - - -“Stand Solid!” - -The captain said, “Get up, men; stand solid.” We formed about six -deep. Then we gave them the surprise of their lives. We could just -see a black mass in front of our trenches, and we let out for all we -were worth. We were like devils possessed. I could feel my bayonet go -through something soft. Not a German got his foot in the trench. They -ran down the slopes like rabbits, and to help them we gave them five -rounds rapid: _Pte. D. Hamilton, Royal Scots_. - - -The Dying German - -When I was hit I lay for hours on the ground, and got chummy with a -German chap, who had got a nasty sabre cut in the head, as well as a -bayonet stab in the kidneys, and was “booked through.” He knew his -number was up, but he was as cheery as though he were at a wedding -instead of a funeral.... Almost the last words he said were, “You’ll -win this time, and you deserve to win your victory, but we’ll never -forget or forgive, and some day a new Germany will avenge us”: _A Welsh -Private_. - - -Disturbed! - -We were having letters and parcels and our breakfast bacon issued out -in the trenches when the Germans charged us and captured them. When -we took the position again I found my parcel had been opened and the -letters had been strewn all over the place. It was an awful slaughter -of the Germans, for they were within 20 yards of us and we poured -volleys into them. You ought to have heard them yell; it was like a -wild-beast show let loose. They came through a thick wood, and that -was the reason they got so close: _Pte. Westfield, Worcestershire -Regiment_. - - -“Annie Laurie” - -We were unable to sleep for the pouring rain, and sat at a big camp -fire with hot tea and rum. The boys asked me to sing “Annie Laurie,” -and I was never in better voice. When I finished there were officers, -and even staff officers attracted from their billets, who had come -over the field in the rain to join in. I need hardly add that they -were nearly all Scotch, and “Annie Laurie” after all is to a Scot what -the “Marseillaise” is to a Frenchman: _A Bombardier of the Royal Field -Artillery_. - - -“Few! Few!” - -We jumped out of our trenches at the command “Fix bayonets, charge!” -Only a few of them stood and faced our bayonets, and Lord have mercy -on that few! They were actually torn or cut to pieces. Those that ran -away halted when they got to the sky-line, and there put up their hands -and the white flag. We followed them up, and brought back six machine -quick-firers and 324 prisoners. Those we captured had plenty of money, -but no food of any kind: _Pte. W. McGillicuddy, Irish Guards_. - - -“Hard Neck” - -There were forty-nine of us out as an advance guard for the regiment, -and we were fired on. Of course, we wanted a shot at them, and we -advanced, thinking it was a patrol, but we were not long in finding -out that it was a whole German brigade we were into. We had to make a -fight and check them, and we fairly peppered them for a while. Then -we retired with the Germans at our heels. We got down 700 yards off -them, and gave them some more; but we had to retire as the bullets -were falling like rain. Fancy 25,000--it was only our “hard neck” that -got us out of it: _Pte. A. Kenaway, 2nd Batt. Argyll and Sutherland -Highlanders_. - - -Thank Goodness! - -Just as we were entering the place a shot rang out and our leading man -went down, shot through the heart, so all we could do was to turn round -and gallop for it, which we did. I can tell you there were bullets -flying in all directions. We had another man hit through the thigh, -and four horses--two shot dead and two wounded. One of them had four -bullets in him and still galloped. We had to thank our lucky stars the -Germans are such bad shots, or they would have got the lot of us; and -we have had the same luck with their shell fire: _Corpl. T. Askew, 3rd -King’s Own Hussars_. - - -The Great Retreat - -In five days we retired from Mons to Noyon, a distance of about 130 -miles, fighting day and night, with no proper meals. We had to live -on the country. I ate nothing but fruit and turnips. At last I was -hit by a piece of shrapnel, which has taken away the use of the toes -of my right foot and fractured three or four small bones. At the time -it simply felt like a scald, and I marched seven miles before I found -my foot was bleeding. Whilst trying to close the men up I suffered a -second accident to my foot, a wagon-wheel passing over it owing to a -skid: _Colour-Sergeant Barling_. - - -Outnumbered - -Our little lot was waiting for the Germans in a turnip field. We were -lying down, and on they came. We let fly, and numbers of them went -down. They cracked at us then with their machine guns, and did us -a good deal of damage. We were obliged to retire, but there was an -off-and-on fight for at least twelve hours. We would get cover and have -a smack at ’em, and with their great numbers and our good shooting we -did tumble them over. But, my goodness! the numbers did keep coming on, -and we had to go back. We advanced and pushed them back, but we were -outnumbered again. We fell back, and a crush of us got separated from -the rest. There were about sixteen of us, and we found ourselves beyond -the German lines: _A Private of the Royal Dublin Fusiliers_. - - -“The Old British Way” - -They have a trick of throwing masses of cavalry at our weakest infantry -when they are either advancing in an exposed position or in retreat. -They tried it on as often as they could, but what they don’t seem -able to get over is the quick way in which the smallest party of our -infantry will turn round and give them the bayonet. At first they came -on all swagger, thinking they could cut our men down, but when they -began to see what our chaps were up to they weren’t so keen on keeping -it up. I have seen them coming on with great bluster and bounce until -the order “Prepare to receive cavalry” was carried out in the old -British way, and then they took to their heels as fast as their horses -would carry them: _A Corporal of the South Lancashire Regiment_. - - -Covered with Straw - -News reached our brigade that some of the Germans were making a stand -not far in front of us. We at once scattered ourselves in the fields, -and then advanced in extended formation until we could see them nicely. -We fired a few rounds into them, and they beat a hasty retreat, but not -before they had killed seven and wounded twelve. Our colonel was the -first man shot, and he died the next morning. After the dead had been -collected and the wounded attended to we again got on the move, and I -shall never forget how I felt as I passed my dead comrades on the road. -They had been laid by the roadside, and their faces covered with straw: -_Bandsman T. Woodward, Loyal North Lancashire Regiment_. - - -Nothing to be Seen - -The disconcerting thing in battle nowadays is that you may be fighting -for hours on end and never as much as see an enemy to grapple with. We -lay for ten hours with rifle fire dropping around us like raindrops in -a heavy shower. The roar of the guns was always there, like the thunder -that you hear in a big storm, and you could see one long line of little -white puffs of smoke away in the horizon every time the Germans fired. -Beyond that you couldn’t see anything, and it was only an odd sting in -the arm or leg or head from a bullet that made you realize you were in -battle: _Corporal of the Connaught Rangers_. - - -“A Horrible Trade-mark” - -I have had two horses shot under me, so you can see my time hasn’t -come yet. Our men are wonderfully fit and fight like the very devil. -We have lost two of our young officers, and I am wearing a pair of -riding-breeches which belonged to one of them. I have been sharing a -pipe for a fortnight with one of my troopers. Things are going well -with us, and we are giving the Germans all they want, and a little more -besides. But there are such hordes of men that it’s a case of shooting -one line down when along comes another. They are cursed cowards, and -will not meet our cavalry in the open. Their shells are our worst -trouble; they don’t give you half a chance, for you can’t see them -coming, and they leave such a horrible trademark: _A Squadron-Major of -the Royal Horse Guards_. - - -Blown Sky High - -It is not only on sea that the Germans make use of mines. They do it on -land. Nearly all the approaches to their trenches are mined for about -two hundred yards, and even one thousand yards. One day an infantry -battalion of ours, supported by French infantry and cavalry, fought -their way right up to the enemy’s trenches and were formed up for the -last rush, when suddenly the earth under them gave way with a terrific -explosion, and the air was thick with bodies blown sky high. Our own -men seemed to get very little damage, though many of them were stunned -for the time being by the awful explosion. After a time they were -re-formed, and swept across the intervening space with a ringing cheer -that told its own story. The Germans were ready for them, and they had -a hard tussle to clear the trenches, but they succeeded in the end: _A -Lance-Corporal of the Lincolnshire Regiment_. - - -Rescued! - -Several of us got separated from our company at St. Quintin. After -tramping about twelve miles we reached a farmhouse. The farmer gave -us two chickens, a piece of bacon, and some potatoes, and we were -just sitting down to a meal after a long fast when a body of Uhlans -came round the corner. We hadn’t even time to reach our rifles. They -rode straight at us, and one knocked me over. As I got up he turned -his horse back and, taking his foot from his stirrup, kicked me in -the mouth, displacing all my teeth. After I was taken prisoner I was -kicked all over the body. Just as they were marching us off a patrol of -British cavalry came on the scene. The Uhlans did not attempt to meet -them, but immediately rode off. We were greatly relieved at the turn of -events, but I was so badly injured by the Germans that I was sent to -hospital: _Private Goulder_. - - -A “Sensational Feeling” - -There came a terrible sensational feeling over me. I shall never forget -it. I knew it was the smartest man wins. Off we started at the trot and -I was gradually getting confidence, and by the time the charge sounded -I felt as if I didn’t care. Consequently the “devil-may-care” crowd -won easily. Then we had to rally and ride down on them again, as they -were about twice our strength, but it was an easier job than the first -one, as they were more or less dumbfounded at our madness. Well, at the -end of the second run there wasn’t one left standing. Oh, I saw one -fellow get up and lurch and over he toppled again: _Corpl. Leather, 2nd -Dragoon Guards_. - - -“Silence Those Guns!” - -Quite the worst sight I saw was when a big mass of French infantry -were advancing to clear the front of our position, where the Germans -had been gathering in strength. They were coming along at the double, -carrying everything before them, when, without the slightest warning, -German batteries posted under the shelter of a wood opened fire upon -them with a deadly shower of shrapnel and machine-gun bullets. The long -advancing line seemed to contract like a frog does when you stick a pin -in it, and it isn’t any exaggeration to say that you could hear the -shells cutting through their closely packed ranks just like the scythe -cuts through the grass. The men went down by the hundred until they -opened in extended order. Then they made a rush for the position where -the guns were, and though they were galled by a heavy infantry fire, -and were attacked by both infantry and cavalry at nearly every step -of the way, they ultimately fought their way along and silenced those -guns: _A Lance-Corporal of the Royal Irish Fusiliers_. - - -Playing at Soldiers! - -The Germans came on us like a great mob. They were as close as 100 -yards or less in a mango field on several occasions, but we drove them -back each time with severe losses. It was hot work, but the boys have -plenty of courage. They delight in seeing them come along, for it is -great sport to see them running back again when we start to shake them -up. They don’t seem to have any sore feet. They run back like hares or -else they chuck in. Tell any of the boys around that if they want to -see some sport and what real fighting is to join and come out to us -_and not be playing at soldiers at home drilling with wooden sticks_. -Well, I hope you are all well at home. If it be God’s will to let us -meet once more; if not, dear mother, do not grieve, for your boys will -do the best they can to serve our King and country, and by doing what -we believe is God’s will. Always think kind of a soldier, as I know you -do: _Sergeant T. R. Kenny_. - - -Kept the Guns - -A battery advancing against the Germans during one of the hot fights -was suddenly pounced on by the enemy from a position we never thought -them to be in, and half the men and all the horses were shot down -before you could have said the shortest of prayers, and the German -cavalry came rushing out of a wood close by to seize the guns. -Fortunately some of our own men were near at hand, and they were -quickly formed up round the guns. They fired into the Germans, and -drove them back. Then a big body of infantry had a try at getting the -guns away, but our chaps tackled them with the bayonet, and for about -an hour the fight round those guns was as hot as anybody could stand. -The two sides kept swaying each other backwards and forwards like a -couple of tug-of-war teams, and then, just for variety I suppose, the -German artillery chipped in, and they cut up their own chaps much -more than they hurt ours. Finally our infantry got disentangled from -the Germans, were strongly reinforced, and with a grand bayonet charge -cleared the whole lot of the Germans away from the guns. Horses were -brought out and the guns were removed to a point of safety without -further trouble: _Pte. T. Molloy, Royal Garrison Artillery_. - - -Taking Risks - -Our officer asked for a man to go with him to blow a bridge up, so that -the Germans could not follow us, and I went with him. All our men had -retired. Well, to blow a bridge up we use gun-cotton and a wire fuse. -It is safe enough if you take your wire well away, but this time it -would not work. The men in running back had stepped on the wire, so we -had to go nearer to the bridge and try again. Then it would not act, -so the officer said to me, “Go back, Wells.” I said, “No, I’ll go with -you.” We were the only two on the bridge, and the Germans were shooting -at us, but our luck was in. Well, we both lay down, and I fired ten -rounds with my rifle, and he did the same with his pistol, and then -it would not work. If it had we should both have gone up with it, so -you see what a near shave we had. We made a dive back and got some -more gun-cotton, and we were making to have another go when an officer -called us back and told us it was no use us trying, so we came back: -_Sapper Wells, Royal Engineers_. - - -Broke the Line - -The welcome order to fix bayonets and charge came at last, and we -didn’t lose much time in getting at them, As we finished the last lap -of our race for their trenches they concentrated a fiendish fire on us, -but that didn’t stop us at all, and we reached their trenches at last -with a wild whoop that must have struck terror to their hearts. For the -first time in my experience they made a desperate attempt to repel us -with the bayonet. Their weight seemed enough to hurl us back, but we -stuck to them like leeches, and at last their line began to waver. They -were stretched across the trenches in one long line, and when one man -fell another slipped into his place. Near the centre we made a break -in the line, and then the whole lot gave way, running like hares, and -throwing down their arms as they ran. We bayoneted them by the score as -they ran, and shot them down in dozens until we were completely used -up. Their officers made many attempts to rally them, but it was no -good, and those who could not get away surrendered rather than face any -more of it: _A Non-commissioned Officer of the Irish Guards_. - - -A “Hot Shop” - -Where we were posted was a hot shop, and for a week the Germans had -been treating us to night attacks. It was long past our time for -standing treat in return, and we weren’t surprised one night when we -were paraded and marched out in the direction of where the Germans had -been firing from all day. In the pitch darkness it was slow work, and -the men had to be halted every few minutes to enable the guides to take -their bearings from the few stars that were overhead. By three o’clock -we were resting on a slight slope leading up from a stream, when the -scouting parties ahead reported movements in front. A few minutes after -that we stumbled right on top of a big body of Germans stealing along -as quietly as we had come, and evidently trying a surprise attack on -our camp. You can bet your last half-crown that we didn’t wait to ask -if their intentions were honourable. We just shot right into them, and -the ball was opened in fine style. Before they had time to think what -was happening, we had fixed bayonets and were charging down on them. We -swept them off their feet and right down the other side of the slope in -confusion: _A Lance-Corporal of the Cameron Highlanders_. - - -“Talk About Excitement!” - -It was like going to a football match, cracking jokes and singing -all the ragtimes we knew. All our fellows knew what depended upon -the result, and that only made them the more determined. But it was -determination in the best of spirits. And how our fellows did fight, -with always a joke handy and utter fearlessness. The Germans looked -like a forest approaching, but that didn’t daunt us, and our artillery -replied to theirs with interest. For hour after hour it was one -continuous stream of shot and shell. Their artillery was the best part -about them, their individual firing being poor, but our artillery was -far better, though their biggest guns created the most havoc among our -ranks. Talk about excitement, it was all excitement from the beginning -and during the retirement. There was nothing else for us to do. It was -a rare hot time. We were working for concentration the whole time, and -there is no doubt about it, our orders were the best possible under -the circumstances. The Germans were making a mark of us all along, but -directly we got our chances we let them have it: _A Private, at Mons_. - - -Balaclava Style - -The firing suddenly ceased, and through the smoke we saw the German -infantry creeping along the fire-scorched grass. They were heading -for a stream on which our right rested, and were coming on with an -easy, confident swing, when we got the order to mount our horses, -which had been lying ready by our sides all through the shelling. We -chased the Germans for about a mile, and cut them to ribbons, and then -we ran full-tilt into their cavalry supports, who were drawn up by -the wayside in wait for us. The impetus of our charge carried us past -them, and they closed up along the road in our rear to bar our way -back, evidently thinking they had only to say the word and we would -set out for Berlin like so many Sunday-school children out for their -treat. This was the first time we had any experience of German cavalry, -getting in our way of their own accord, but wonders never cease in war, -and we just took it as it came. We charged into them in our best Heavy -Brigade Balaclava style, and gave them a fine cutting up. They didn’t -want very much of it, and soon cleared off into the fields: _A Trooper -of the Royal Irish Dragoons_. - - -A Night Surprise - -One night we were moving out to take up a new position, when we -suddenly came on a big force of Germans occupying a strong position -right across the road along which we had to march. Soon the still -night air brought the sound of marching men further up the road, and -as the new force came nearer, we found that they were French troops -moving to effect a junction with the force we were going to reinforce. -The Germans had somehow got wind of the move, and were preparing a -little surprise for the French. They were so cocksure about their rear -that they had not taken the ordinary precautions, and as we had moved -quietly they were in ignorance of our presence within easy rifle shot. -Just when they were getting ready for the attack on the oncoming French -force the order to fire was passed along our ranks quietly, and we -let drive right into them. They were absolutely panic-stricken, and -fled in terror along the road, right into the arms of the French. The -impetuosity of their rush, and its unexpected character, threw the -French infantry into disorder for a time, and when we moved forward the -French at first took us for Germans, and were getting ready to fire on -us. At great personal risk an officer and two men rushed towards the -French force with a white flag and explained things. Then we were all -right, and you may believe me we generally are all right: _A Private of -the Cameron Highlanders_. - - -No Fight Left - -A party of the Royal Irish Lancers were out scouting and patrolling -one day, when a sergeant-major and a trooper who were ahead came on a -long, straggling line of German transport wagons loaded up, and under -a happy-go-lucky escort. The Lancers, though they didn’t know it, -had cut into the enemy’s line of retreat. The men were got together -quickly, and they moved up the road to where there was an ideal spot -for ambushing the convoy. It had to pass over a narrow stone bridge -that was commanded by a clump of trees, in which our men were able to -take shelter and hide their horses. The escort with the wagons was at -least five times the strength of the squadron of Lancers, but that -didn’t trouble them very much. They waited until the head of the column -was straggling across the bridge, and then they emptied their carbines -into them along a wide front that gave the impression of great force. -The Germans were taken completely by surprise. Their horses started to -rear and plunge, and many men and animals went over into the stream, -being carried away. The motor wagons could not be stopped in time and -they crashed into each other in hopeless confusion. Into this confused -mass of frightened men and horses and wagons that ran amok the Lancers -now charged from two separate points. The Lancers made short work of -the escort at the head of the column, and the officer in command agreed -to surrender all that was under his direct control, though he said he -couldn’t account for the rearguard. When we came up on motors to seize -a position for the purpose of heading off the Germans in retreat, we -found the Lancers waiting there with all their spoil, and getting ready -to receive the rest of the escort in case it should show fight. There -wasn’t much fight left in them, and they surrendered at sight, giving -up the whole supply column: _A Private of the Cameronians_. - - -All Sorts of Sacrifices - -Along the Aisne the Germans made some absolutely desperate attempts -to break through our line, and they counted no sacrifice too great to -achieve their end. One day I saw a brigade of theirs caught in a deadly -trap. There was a gap in our lines between one of our brigades and the -nearest French force. The Germans made a sudden dash for that gap under -cover of their artillery, and, though they were exposed to a heavy -fire that cut deep lines through their ranks, they came steadily on. -They had nearly reached their goal when a sudden movement of British -reserves on the left brought a fierce attack on the Germans from the -rear. At the same time the Germans were fired on from our men and -the French on either flank. They had either to continue their forward -march, with the certainty of disaster, or turn and try to hew their way -out again through our reserves. They chose the latter course, and their -artillery tried to back them up in every possible way. Owing to the -disposition of forces it was a risky job to keep up artillery fire, and -soon the shells began to do as much damage among the Germans as to the -British or French. The Germans kept falling back under the double fire, -and at the same time great clouds of cavalry came moving out in support -of their retirement. The British force taking the Germans in the rear -was now in danger of being taken in the rear itself, but reinforcements -were hurried out, and our cavalry began the work of pressing back -the German cavalry advancing to the assistance of their trapped -infantry. Now the air was thick with fighting men, and the cries of -the combatants were deafening. The retreating Germans kept moving -steadily towards their oncoming cavalry, dropping men by the hundred as -they retreated, but just when they seemed to have reached their goal -our infantry were on them, and they were hurled against the French -position on the right. After this there was nothing for it but to cut -and run, and what looked to be one of the best brigades of the German -army was soon nothing more than a mass of panic-stricken men flying -in quest of a hiding-place from the fire by which they were assailed. -In their flight they cast aside arms and equipment or anything likely -to impede their rush. For half a mile in front of our position there -were piles of dead and dying to testify to the terrible execution done -by our artillery and rifle fire, and that repulse saw the end of the -German attempts to break through our line at that particular point: _A -Motor-Cyclist Dispatch-Rider_. - - - - -XII. IN THE TRENCHES - - _Come the three corners of the world in arms, - And we shall shock them; nought shall make us rue - If England to herself do rest but true._ - - SHAKESPEARE. - - _When the last charge sounds, - And the battle thunders o’er the plain, - Thunders o’er the trenches where the red streams flow, - Will it not be well with us, - Veterans, veterans, - If, beneath your torn old flag, we burst upon the foe?_ - - ALFRED NOYES. - - -There was a Frenchman hit by a shell, so me and “Smosh” got a stretcher -and ran out and fetched him to safety, and the shells were bursting all -around us. But we have been lucky enough to miss them up to now. It -isn’t war out here; it’s murder: _Pte. W. Commons, Royal Army Medical -Corps_. - - -Sniping! - -The Germans have some very good snipers, but the Duke’s have better. -We used to take it in turn to do sniping. It is just like going out -rabbit-shooting. You see a German crawl out of his trench, up goes your -rifle and over he rolls. Then you say, “That’s a bit of our own back -for the way you have been treating the French people”: _Sergt. Clark, -Duke of Cornwall’s Light Infantry_. - - -The Bayonet! - -One night after a very hard day in the trenches, when we were wet -to the skin, we had lighted fires to dry our tunics, and were at it -when we heard firing along our front, and then the Germans came at -us like madmen. We had to tackle them in our shirt-sleeves. It was -mainly bayonet work, and hard work at that: _Corporal Casemont, Irish -Fusiliers_. - - -A Good Sleeper - -There are six of the boys playing cards now, some are peeling spuds -for dinner, the rest are having a sleep. We have a hole dug in a bank, -and we only get in when the shrapnel gets a bit too close, to get out -of sight of aeroplanes, and to sleep, night-times. My chum only wakes -up grub-times and when he does guard: _Corpl. H. Smith, King’s Royal -Rifles_. - - -Those Apples - -We are living in trenches here, all merry and gay. We are being shelled -by the enemy with shrapnel, but they are not doing much damage at -present. There are apple-trees over our trench, and we have to wait -till the Germans knock them down for us. You ought to see us scramble -down our holes when we hear a shell coming: _Private G. Caley, of Manor -Park_. - - -Four Feet Down - -We are in a trench made by ourselves (patented), four feet down, and -covered with sticks and straw, and are quite comfortable for a while, -until we move again. We get plenty to eat, as there is any amount of -vegetables growing around us, but bread is like gold, so we have to -content ourselves with biscuits: _Bandsman Ryan, Royal Irish Fusiliers_. - - -Its Billet - -My best chum was lying by my side, and we were firing shot after shot. -Soon after dusk, when the firing was not so brisk, my chum asked me for -a drink of water, and I had none. I asked, “Why, what’s the matter?” He -replied, “I think I am dying.” I bound him up, but a quarter of an hour -later he had gone: _Private Pemberton_. - - -Taking a German - -One big wounded German cried out from the trench in which he laid to a -R.A.M.C. man who was at work near by, “Take me from this hell. I will -give you all my money.” In due course he was taken from the trench -(grave, as it really was, because of the heaps of dead lying in it), -and was finally removed to a place where I was lying: _Bandsman Boyd, -2nd Welsh_. - - -Another Rocket - -We have been living the life of rabbits, for we burrowed ourselves in -trenches, and here we remained for over fifty hours. It was an exciting -and not unpleasant experience. The bursting of shells overhead was -continuous, and it became monotonous. To the youngsters it was an awful -experience in the earlier stages, but even they became so accustomed to -the roar overhead that they raised a cheer each time shrapnel and shell -spoke, making such remarks as “There’s another rocket, John”: _Pte. C. -Harris, West Kents_. - - -Too Late! - -The Germans don’t seem to care how much ammunition they waste. They -kept blazing away for nine solid hours at a position which we had left -the day before. When some of us visited the abandoned trenches after -they had discovered their mistake we were astonished to find the ground -covered with bullets that had done absolutely no damage. If it wasn’t -for their artillery I really don’t know where they would be, for they -are little use at any other form of fighting: _Private Edward Strong_. - - -Might Shake Hands - -There are times when if you stuck your head out of a trench you could -no more help being hit than you could expect to escape drops of rain -if you went out on a wet day without an umbrella. You will not be -able to see a German when darkness comes, but next morning you will -find that the trenches have come so close, owing to the exertions of -the two sides, that you could reach out of yours and shake hands with -a German--that’s if you wanted to. When things get so close as that -there’s nothing for it but to set to and shift the beggars a little -further along: _A Driver of the Royal Artillery_. - - -A Football Talk - -You musn’t run away with the idea that we all stand shivering or -cowering under shell fire, for we don’t. We just go about our business -in the usual way. If it’s potting at the Germans that is to the fore, -we keep at it as though nothing were happening, and if we’re just -having a wee bit of a chat among ourselves until the Germans come up, -we keep at it all the same. When I got my wound in the leg it was -because I got too excited in arguing with wee Geordie Ferris, of our -company, about Queen’s Park Rangers and their chances this season: _A -Private of the Gordon Highlanders_. - - -Feeling Led - -As I write shells from heavy guns are whining overhead, and the roar -from the gun’s mouth as well as the roar of shells exploding is behind -and before. And (pause!) we are used to it! We are used to raining; -used to going without washes for days; used to driving German columns -back; used to mud, cold nights, and a terrific quantity of detail that -varies from day to day. We have a knack of sticking to what we gain, -and there you can feel proud of us all. For we ought to be swamped -by superiority of numbers and guns. But our methods under fire are, -if not perfect, very good. We are officered by excellent men, and we -can _feel_ led. You will understand: _A Private of the Bedfordshire -Regiment_. - - -Walnuts and Guards - -Out here I have seen the finest and saddest sights of my life. You -see some amusing incidents as well. The Germans were shelling a field -opposite to us for an unknown reason, for there were only a few dead -cows there. Some of our chaps were getting walnuts, and the German -shells were knocking walnuts down and the men were picking them up. -During the first day of the battle here two of our companies were -acting as right-flank guard to the brigade, and we encountered the -Kaiser’s famous Prussian Guards. We were greatly outnumbered, and our -commanding officer told us that we killed five of theirs to one of -ours. They were finely built fellows and a great height: _Lance-Corpl. -J. Ryall, 1st King’s Royal Rifles_. - - -Banging Away - -When I opened your parcel we were banging away, and I thought how -different a place it was tied up in. The fags--what a treat!--the -chocolates, papers, and pipe. The last, by the way, is worth quids, -for the troops have just had an issue of tobacco, and not many pipes -are available; they get lost or broken. One thing we are short of, and -that is matches. We all mark time on someone lighting up, and there’s a -great rush on that one match: _A Trooper of the Royal Horse Guards_. - - -All’s Fair! - -They say all is fair in love and war, but it’s awful to see those -deadly shells flying over our head and sometimes putting some of our -pals out of action. But, thank God, the wounded are picked up as soon -as possible, and treated with every care that both women and men nurses -can provide. In fact, I have seen men who have been badly wounded with -a smile on their faces as though nothing had happened, and even while I -am writing these few words under difficulty our boys are laughing and -joking and singing as if we were at a picnic, and I am sure they feel -quite as happy as if they were at one in reality: _Pte. B. Marshall, -1st Batt. Loyal North Lancashires_. - - -Unnerving! - -Every soldier knows that the first experience of being under fire is -terribly unnerving, and the best of men will admit that at times they -are tempted to run away. There was a young lad of the Worcestershire -Regiment who had this feeling very badly, but he made up his mind that -he would conquer it, and this is what he did: he made it a practice -to go out of the trenches and expose himself to German fire for a bit -every day. The poor boy trembled like a leaf, but his soul was bigger -than the weak little body holding it, and he went through that terrible -ordeal for a week: _A Sergeant of the York and Lancaster Regiment_. - - -Caps and Helmets - -In the first lot of trenches our men put their caps and helmets on the -top, to give the enemy the impression we were still there. Believing -the trenches were actually occupied, the Germans shelled the position -for three-quarters of an hour before their cavalry discovered the ruse. -Meanwhile the men in the second trenches had also placed their helmets -on top, but they did not go away, and the Germans, deceived, approached -within a comparatively few yards, when they were met by a tremendous -volley and practically wiped out: _Pte. Shepherd, 1st Lincolnshire -Regiment_. - - -Spectral - -I saw the German trenches as the French guns left them. They were -filled with dead, but with dead in such postures as the world has -never seen since the destroying angel passed above the Philistine camp -in that avenging night of Scripture. It was as though some blight -from Heaven had fallen upon them. There they stood in line, rifles to -shoulder, a silent company of ghosts in the grey light of dawn. It was -as if a deep and sudden sleep had overtaken them--only their eyes were -open. They might have been there from all eternity thus, their rifles -at rest: _Anonymous_. - - -Buried Alive - -Have you any idea what a trench is like? It is simply a long cutting -such as the gasmen make when laying pipes--about 5 ft. deep and 2 ft. -wide. You are packed in, standing room only. No chance of a wash, or -proper rest. They are supposed to shelter you from rifle shots and bits -of bursting shell. Every day two or three are killed or wounded. There -is another danger, too. I had an experience of it yesterday. A big -shell burst in our trench, and two men and I were completely buried by -the sides of the trench being blown in. It was an awful feeling being -buried alive and slowly suffocating. I wished the shell had hit me, -while I was underneath. Our chaps dug us out just in time, thank God: -_Sergt. Saward, Royal West Kent Regiment_. - - -Cut and Thrust - -The German trenches are marvellous. They are dug right into the -ground, and you might walk over them for hours without guessing that -there were men hidden away in them. The wonder is how they manage to -fire at all from them, but I dare say they are quite effective against -shell fire, and, what’s more important still, they make it very hard -for our aeroplanes to spot the Germans and form any estimate of their -strength. We are not one whit behind them in making trenches, and you -might say that the whole fight out here is simply a matter of digging -trenches right up so close that the other fellow has to run. It’s dull -work, but it’s enlivened now and then by little fights by day and -night, when the Germans rush out to surprise us or our generals think -it well to push the enemy a little further back: _A Corporal, at the -Aisne_. - - -Robinson Crusoe - -I lost a few good chums. My ’listing chum was almost blown to pieces. -He belonged to Newcastle, and was always laughing. He had to be buried -under shell fire. We had many a good starving for water, food, and -tobacco. Talking about tobacco, we had to smoke our tea. I smoked two -tea allowances, and we had a tin box of tea leaves, which we took out -of a kettle, drying it on our trench tops. Now a little about the -trenches. Robinson Crusoe wasn’t in it. Our regiment was in them eight -days without a hot drink, without a wash, shave, or a decent bit of -food. We could not get stuff up there, as there was too much shell fire -from the German side, and our transport could not get stuff up as the -bridge over the Aisne was broken: _Pte. Gray, Northumberland Fusiliers_. - - -Swarms of Them - -We had dug trenches and were waiting for something to happen when a -German aeroplane came high over our lines. Then came a rain of shells -from a wood. The enemy were about a mile and half away, but they got -the range to a nicety. People who say that the German artillery fire -is no good simply don’t know what they are talking about. I can only -figure it out as being something worse than the mouth of hell. The -Germans treated us to shell cross-fire, and a piece of shell hit my -rifle--smash! I pitched forward in the trench, the muzzle part of the -rifle went into my groin, and I got a lovely bang with another bit of -shell across the leg. The Germans came out of the wood in swarms--just -as if a hive had been overturned and all the bees were let loose. I -thought my number was up: _Private J. Stiles_. - - -Moving! - -We congratulated ourselves that we had got nice cover from which we -could work with the rifle and for bayonet charges. At night we slept -in the trenches, but at daybreak we were shelled out of them in -practically no time. It was a bit of irony--such splendid trenches, -and to be shelled out of them like that by the Germans. They watched -us work, and then just let us have it lovely. It is no use saying the -Germans are a “rotten lot” as fighters, because I think their artillery -is very fine. German aeroplanes were on top of us, and found us out -every time. They worked well, helping their troops and giving the guns -the range: _A Private of the 1st Cheshires_. - - -Come On! - -We had a whole day of it in the trenches with the Germans firing away -at us all the time. It began just after breakfast, and we were without -food of any kind until we had what you might call a dainty afternoon -tea in the trenches under shell fire. The mugs were passed round with -the biscuits and the “bully” as best we could by the mess orderlies, -but it was hard work getting through without getting more than we -wanted. My next-door neighbour, so to speak, got a shrapnel bullet in -his tin, and another two doors off had his biscuit shot out of his -hand. We are now ready for anything that comes our way, and nothing -would please us better than a good big stand-up fight with the Germans -on any ground they please: _Private G. Ryder_. - - -Brave Deeds - -I am glad to see so many of our boys recommended for rewards of various -kinds and mentioned in dispatches. What I fear is that one-tenth of -the brave deeds done by men in the ordinary course of their duty will -never be heard of. Many of the men themselves are so modest that they -can’t bear the publicity associated with it, and I had a man come to me -with tears in his eyes to beg me not to tell any officer what he had -done. He was lying in the trenches one day with a mug of milk that he -had brought from a farm under fire, when he noticed a wounded Dorset -casting eyes at it. Though he was sorely in need of it himself, he got -up and said, “You have it, old chap. I’ll get another.” Out he raced -through the terrible storm of shot and shell, and came back again white -as a sheet, with another mug in his trembling hand. He had been hit -badly in coming back: _A Sergeant of the Liverpool Regiment_. - - -“Shifting Them!” - -One morning, just about cockcrow, there was a fearful din outside -our more or less private apartments in the trenches, where I had been -snatching two winks after three days and nights’ hard. The Germans were -on us, and two minutes after the alarm we were under fire. They had -crept up very close under cover of darkness, and were in trenches not -more than three hundred yards away. They must have driven out our chaps -who were in them, and we got orders to retake the trenches. There was -no fancy work about it. We were rushed forward in companies. One half -of each company would rush forward for a few yards, about twenty, while -the second half lay on the ground firing at the enemy. Then the first -half would lie down and fire while the second took up the running. In -that way we got to the trenches with very little loss, and commenced -shifting them in the way our chaps always shift undesirables from any -place we want. They were well entrenched, and it was like digging them -out with the bayonets. We got them out in the end: _A Corporal of the -Durham Light Infantry_. - - -Bullets and “Footer” - -We are a light-hearted lot, and so are our officers. We dug out for -them a kind of a subterranean mess-room, where they took their meals. -One fellow decorated it with some cigarette cards and pictures he cut -out of a French paper. The food they get is not exactly what would -be supplied to them at the Hotel Cecil. A jollier and kinder lot you -would not meet in a day’s march. One officer, who was well stocked -with cigarettes, divided among his men, and we were able to repay him -for his kindness by digging him out from his mess-room. A number of -shells tore up the turf, and the roof and sides fell in like a castle -built of cards, burying him and two others. They were in a nice pickle, -but we got them out safe and sound. During the time we were in these -trenches nearly 500 shells burst over and around us, but, as the -protection was so good, not a single chap was killed, and less than a -dozen were wounded. When we were able to get into the open air once -more and stretch our legs, it was then we realized what we had been -subjected to, for the ground was literally strewn with burst shells. -If all goes well we are going to have a football match to-morrow, as I -have selected a team from our lot to play the Borderers, who are always -swanking what they can do: _Pte. Harris, West Kent Regiment_. - - -Gallant Frenchmen - -In a little village near to Soissons, where I got my wound, there was -a half-battalion of Frenchmen posted with some machine guns to hold a -position, and their instructions were that they were not to yield an -inch to the Germans no matter what happened. For two days and nights -they fought their corner against ten times their own number of Germans, -but on the third night the enemy concentrated all their spare guns on -the village, and followed that up with a ferocious attack from all -arms. The Frenchmen shot away till their arms ached, and their heads -burned, and their throats were parched with thirst, and they were -weak with hunger. They could not stop that ceaseless rush of Germans, -who had orders to take the village or die. Step by step the French -were forced back, and at last those left were driven into some farm -buildings, where they took shelter. These were set on fire after a -time, and the men, who would not surrender, had no other choice but to -rush out and be shot down as they came. They did that, and next day we -arrived to find the Germans in possession. We cleared them out after a -hard fight, however, and helped to make things square: _A Gunner of the -Royal Artillery_. - - -Hoist! - -Quite the most awful thing I ever set eyes on was early one morning, -close to Soissons. The Germans had taken up a position of great -strategical value, and entrenched themselves so cleverly that nothing -on earth seemed to shift them. They had got to be shifted, however, -and, because we didn’t make any attempts to do it by direct attack, -they got a bit “chesty,” and fancied themselves quite secure. All the -while our engineers were feverishly at work night and day, carefully -burrowing their way through the ground to where the Germans were. One -morning everything was ready. We opened fire, and a feint was made -against the position. The Germans stood to arms behind their trenches, -and kept firing at us. We knew what was coming, and didn’t press too -closely, but just at the appointed time there was a terrible roar in -front, and a great big cloud of earth, stones, and the mangled limbs -of men and horses shot up into the sky. The mine which our mud-larks -had been preparing for so long had been sprung at last, and the German -defenders of the trenches saw for themselves that it is not always the -open foe that is to be feared most. For yards around that position the -sight was a sickening one. Many of the defenders were torn limb from -limb, and the cries of those who remained alive were awful. I never -saw anything to equal it, except on one occasion when I was in a pit -explosion in the North: _A Corporal of the Coldstream Guards_. - - -“One Red Burial Blent” - -The Germans are getting up to all the tricks of the trade so far as -making themselves secure against infantry or shell fire is concerned. -At first they didn’t seem to mind what happened, and were always on the -move just to walk over us, but when they found that it took two to make -a bargain in the walking-over line they began to get more cautious, and -now they get into holes in the ground that would make you think you had -gone out rabbit-hunting if it weren’t for the size of the game when -you catch them. Their trenches are mighty deep, and you can’t always -say rightly what’s in them. There was a chap of the Warwicks who went -peeping into one of these holes the other day, and before he knew what -to think he found himself looking down the muzzle of a German rifle. -He got out of the way with only a little nick in the arm, but he might -have lost his life. They had the dickens of a job to ferret that German -out of his place, but they did get him out, though it was only to put -him in again, as he wouldn’t surrender, and his pit came in handy for a -grave: _Gunner Hughes, of the Royal Field Artillery_. - - - - -XIII. GALLANT DEEDS - - _And gentlemen in England, now a-bed, - Shall think themselves accursed they were not here; - And hold their manhoods cheap, whiles any speaks - That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s Day._ - - SHAKESPEARE’S “Henry V.” - - _They went with songs to the battle, they were young, - Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow, - They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted; - They fell with their faces to the foe._ - - LAURENCE BINYON’S “For the Fallen.” - - -When we got the order to retire I found that both my boots were full of -blood. When I took them off I found that my feet had swollen and there -were two big holes in my heels: _Private E. Young_. - - -A Hand-shake! - -The officer said, “Baker, our time has come. Be brave, and die like a -man. Good-bye.” He shook hands with me. I shall always remember the -minutes that followed: _A Mechanic of the English Flying Corps_. - - -Unhurt! - -I saw one of the Bays, a lance-corporal, run towards the enemy with -a machine gun on his shoulders. He fired several rounds at them, and -escaped without a scratch. He was promoted to the rank of sergeant for -that: _Pte. Fill, 5th Dragoon Guards_. - - -What the Irish Did - -I saw a handful of Irishmen throw themselves in front of a regiment of -cavalry trying to cut off a battery of Horse Artillery. Not one of the -poor lads got away alive, but they made the German devils pay in kind, -and anyhow the artillery got away: _Private A. McGillivray_. - - -“A Regular Devil” - -There was a man of the Buffs who carried a wounded chum for over a -mile under German fire, but if you mentioned recommending that chap for -the Cross he’d punch your head, and as he’s a regular devil the men of -his regiment say as little as they can about it: _A Driver of the Royal -Field Artillery_. - - -“Into ’Em, Lads!” - -Your son and I had fought side by side, and he missed me. The noble -lad came back through fires of hell and carried me to safety. He was -wounded, but not dangerously. We are all proud of that boy; he is -always in the thick of it. All over the line you could hear him: “Into -’em, lads; the sooner we get through, the sooner we’ll get home”: -_Gunner Batey, Royal Garrison Artillery_. - - -The Old Royals - -Captain Brussell, D.S.O., who directed the movement, shouted, “Cheer -up, men; you all belong to the Royal Scots. If we go down we are dying -for the Old Royals.” These were his last words, for he fell immediately -the charge had begun, struck down by two bullets from the Maxim: -_Corpl. McGlade, Royal Scots_. - - -Gallantry - -Lieutenant Geoffrey Lambton, nephew of the Earl of Durham, was in -charge of us in the wood, and was directing our fire from a mound. -The lieutenant had given orders to fire, had picked up a rifle, and -was in the act of firing himself when he was fatally wounded by a -German bullet. He knew he was done for, and he gave me his pocketbook, -note-book, and sketch-book to bring back to his people: _Pte. Roberts, -Coldstream Guards_. - - -Brought Him In - -I saw a fine thing. We went out to take some German prisoners, when the -German artillery began to shell us. We got orders to retire, and on -the way poor Jack Anderson got hit in the neck. Billy Flaxington, one -of our fellows, at once went out in front of a shower of bullets and -brought him in. Even our officers cheered. It showed the Germans what -Kirkstall Road lads are made of: _Rifleman W. Sissons, of Leeds_. - - -Skedaddled! - -I heard of a corporal of the Fusiliers Brigade who held a company of -Germans at bay for two hours by the old trick of firing at them from -different points, and so making them think they had a crowd to face. He -was getting on very well until a party of cavalry outflanked him, as -you might say. As they were right on top of him there was no kidding -them about his “strength,” so he skedaddled: _A Driver of the Royal -Field Artillery_. - - -An Air Duel - -Our artillery were unable to bring down a German aeroplane flying right -above us, when suddenly a French aeroplane rose like a shot and hovered -above the German machine, which was flying over our trenches from -end to end. What really happened I don’t know, but shots having been -exchanged between the aeroplanes, the next thing we saw was the German -spinning around us as if all control had been lost. It came down with a -sickening crash just beyond us: _Private D. Schofield_. - - -Under Heavy Fire - -I saw the brave rescue of a private by young Lieutenant Amos. The man -was named Varley, and had been shot in the liver. Although Varley was -over 11 stone the young subaltern went alone to his aid, and, under -very heavy fire, carried him to safety. The news of the death of -Lieutenant Amos in hospital three weeks later was received with great -regret by all who saw his self-sacrifice on that occasion: _A Private -of the 2nd King’s Own Scottish Borderers_. - - -Never Say Die! - -In camp one night a German prisoner told us about a Lancashire Fusilier -who had been cut off and refused to surrender to 200 Germans. He lay -on the ground and kept firing away until he hadn’t a cartridge left, -and as his bayonet was gone, he stood up with folded arms while they -shot him down. There was a sackful of bullets in him at least, but he -killed twelve and wounded over thirty of his foes before the end came: -_A Private of the Coldstream Guards_. - - -Onward and Away! - -One of our lads did a daring thing last week. Somehow he got left -behind, and when he found his bearings, he was right in the heart of -the German lines. He put spurs to his nag, and made a dash to get -through their lines. They were after him like a whirlwind, but he rode -for half a mile with the whole army shooting at him. Then he found -his path barred by a squadron of Uhlans. He bore madly down on them -as though he intended to ride right into them, but, just when he was -within a few feet of them, he swerved to the left and dashed by with -only a flesh wound in the leg: _Pte. H. Hill, 4th (Royal Irish) Dragoon -Guards_. - - -Hit Four Times - -I was pulling one of our officers out of the firing line when I got -hit. He had been hit four times and he was going mad and jumping up. -Well, that was giving our position away, so I held him down till we -got the command to retire. Then I pulled him a good way with me, and -all the others had got away from the firing line and the Germans were -only fifty yards from me when the officer died. I had to leave him then -and I crawled along till I came on the road. Then I met a sergeant, -who took me to a church which was being used as a hospital: _Pte. J. -Hayden, King’s Own Royal Lancashire Regiment_. - - -Sticking to Him - -I saw an awful sight: a man of the Royal Irish with six wounds from -shrapnel. He called me for water, but I had none. I managed to carry -him about half a mile and found water: then he was as happy as if -he was not wounded. I stuck to him although he was heavy, and I was -feeling weak and tired. I had to carry him across a big field of -turnips; when half way I slipped, and we both fell. I then had a look -back, and could see the fire mountains high. “Thank God!” I said to -him, “we are out of that; it’s worse than bullets”: _Private G. Kay, at -Mons_. - - -“Boldly They Rode!” - -Two drivers of the Royal Field Artillery brought a gun out of action -with shells bursting around them. They had noticed that the gunners had -been all killed, but calmly and heroically walked their horses down to -the gun. One driver held the horses under a terrific fire, while the -other limbered up, and the gun was brought safely back, neither men nor -horses being hit. They had a miraculous escape. As we watched them from -the trenches we thought it impossible for them to escape death: _Corpl. -Bignell, Royal Berks Regiment_. - - -“Basted” Him! - -A private of the South Staffords, named Murphy, performed a gallant -deed. They were on outpost duty, and were being continually picked off -by snipers. One night Murphy got a wound in the arm, and, in broad -Irish, he vowed he would find the sniper. Despite the remonstrances of -his officers he kept on hunting for him. Two nights later Murphy was -missing from his post, but the sniping had stopped. Later on, search -being made for him, he was found lying at the foot of a big tree, -close beside the body of the sniper, who was pinned to the ground with -Murphy’s bayonet. Murphy told the officer that when he located “the -blighter” he was high up in the tree. Getting underneath he threatened -to shoot, when the German dropped his rifle and scrambled down. “Then -I gave him a good basting with my fists, and finished off by pinning -him down”: _Pte. J. Smith, 3rd Coldstream Guards_. - - -Help the Others! - -There was an English regiment out in front of us who had been getting -it pretty hot all the morning, and, towards the evening, we saw a small -party of their wounded coming in, among them a young subaltern, just a -lad. His coat was off, and he stood bareheaded grasping his revolver in -one hand. He had had the other arm blown clean away at the shoulder. -Someone had dressed it temporarily for him, but he was anxious to find -a doctor, and asked one of our officers where the nearest doctor was. -Our officer told him where to find one, but added, “You’re not fit to -go alone owing to the blood you’re losing. I shall get some of our men -to help,” “Oh, I don’t require help,” he remarked, “and the poor devils -have enough to do to carry themselves out of this hell.” With that he -went away smiling. Help! He wouldn’t have it at any cost: _Pte. A. -Russell, 2nd Seaforth Highlanders_. - - -Facing Death - -Lieut. Pottinger did one of the pluckiest things that have been done in -the war. He and his section were blowing up a bridge under fire. They -laid the charge, and the section retired, Lieut. Pottinger and a sapper -remaining behind to light the fuse. This they did, but apparently -something went wrong with the detonator, and the charge did not -explode. The sapper then fired ten rounds with his rifle at the charge -without success. Lieut. Pottinger then said, “I’ll make the d---- thing -go off,” shook hands with the sapper, and went to the bridge. There -he put the muzzle of his revolver to the charge and fired all six -cartridges. The charge still did not explode, and they had to leave the -bridge still standing, as they were driven back by the Germans. If that -charge had gone off the lieutenant would have disappeared, and he knew -it as well as I do: _A Royal Engineer_. - - -“Scotland for Ever!” - -The Scots Greys galloped forward with us hanging on to their stirrups, -and it was a sight never to be forgotten. We were simply being dragged -by the horses as they flew forward through a perfect cloud of bullets -from the enemy’s Maxims. Saddles were being emptied quickly as we -closed on the German lines, and tore past their Maxims, which were in -the front ranks. We were on the German gunners before they knew where -they were, and many of them went down in their gore, scarcely realizing -that we were amongst them. Then the fray commenced in deadly earnest. -The Black Watch and the Scots Greys went into it like men possessed. -They fought like demons. It was our bayonets against the Germans’ -swords. The German swords were no use against us. They went down in -hundreds, and still the deadly work of the bayonet continued. The enemy -began to waver as the carnage amongst them increased, and they soon -broke and fled like rabbits: _Pte. W. Morton, 1st Batt. Black Watch_. - - -Succouring the Wounded - -Three of my comrades were sent out on patrol, when they were fired on -by the Germans. One got back to the trenches, though I was told two had -returned. One I saw was wounded, and I volunteered to save him. I went -out and was heavily fired at, but I made up my mind to get him--and you -know I very seldom change that. Well, I persevered and got to one who -was past human aid. I had missed the wounded one, who was lying nearer -the trenches. I came back to the trench and reported the one dead. I -then went out again to the wounded man and, with the help of Corporal -Brown, brought him safely back: _Pte. Dobson, Coldstream Guards_. - - -Up the Hill - -My regiment was acting advance guard, and my company was well in -advance, when we came to a hill covered with thick brushwood. Some -French cavalry were sent out to do a bit of scouting. They came back -and reported the hill clear. Well, we continued our march along the -road, but, just as we came under the hill, the Germans opened a -terrible fire on us. The hill was entrenched from top to bottom, but -the trenches were well hidden in the brush. The first line was only -about ninety yards from us, and the first volley bowled over a lot of -my company. There were also two companies of the Camerons attached to -us. There was nothing for it but the bayonet, and before you could say -“Jack Robinson” we were in their first line of trenches. They ran like -rabbits. Then we got reinforced by the remainder of the regiment, and -the hill was taken: _A Private of the Black Watch_. - - -Harry Lauder’s Songs - -I want to let the public know how the Black Watch went through it. -Well, it was a terrible bit of work, but our fellows stuck to their -ground like men--the men of the bulldog breed the kiddies sing about -at school. The Germans were as thick as the “Hielan” heather, and by -sheer weight forced us back step by step. But we had our orders, and -every man stuck to them, and until the order came not a livin’ man -flinched. We stuck there popping off the Germans as fast as we could, -and all around us the German shells were bursting. And in the thick -of it all we were singing Harry Lauder’s latest. Aye, laddie, it was -grand; all around us were the dead and dying, and every now and then -the German shells would burst, and as we peppered away at ’em we sang -about “Roamin’ in the gloamin’” and “The Lass of Killiecrankie”: _A -Corporal of the Black Watch_. - - -Didn’t Know Defeat - -After the firing had lasted for two and a half hours the order to -retire was given and we retired through a wood. Then General Davis came -along and said, “Turn about, men--you must save the guns at all costs.” -There were only about fifty of us. We made a series of short rushes -under a heavy shrapnel fire until we were up to the guns. The Germans -were not more than eight hundred yards away, but we were getting very -few burst shells, while we could see the Germans going down in scores. -Every shot of ours told, as it was impossible to miss the enemy, who -had formed from six to ten deep. We could see our artillery shells -simply mowing the Germans down. Still they came on. Presently the -order rang out to abandon the guns, but gallant young Lieut. Hibbert -said, “No, boys; we will never let a German take a British gun!” Then -our chaps raised a cheer, and resumed rapid firing. Presently we were -reinforced by the South Staffords. The guns’ crews stuck to their task -most heroically, and, amid cheering, we rescued the whole of them: -_Sergt. Meads, Royal Berks_. - - -Duty and--Death - -We occupied an exposed position on the left of the Aisne, and one -night we only escaped being wiped out by mere chance, combined with -as fine a deed of heroism as I have ever heard of. There was a man -of the Manchester Regiment who was lying close to the German lines -terribly wounded. He happened to overhear some conversation between -German soldiers, and, being familiar with the language, he gathered -that they intended to attack the position we held that night. In spite -of his wounds he decided to set out to warn us of the danger, and he -set out on the weary tramp of over five miles. He was under fire from -the moment he got to his feet, but he stumbled along in spite of that, -and soon got out of range. Later he ran into a patrol of Uhlans, but -before they saw him he dropped to earth and shammed being dead. They -passed by without a sign, and then he resumed his weary journey. By -this time the strain had told on him and his wound began to bleed, -marking his path towards our lines with thin red streaks. In the early -morning, just half an hour before the time fixed for the German attack, -he staggered into one of our advanced posts, and managed to tell his -story to the officer in charge before collapsing in a heap. Thanks to -the information he gave, we were ready for the Germans when they came, -and beat them off; but his anxiety to warn us had cost him his life. -The doctors said that the strain had been too much for him, and next -day he died: _A Corporal of the Northumberland Fusiliers_. - - -“He Saved Others” - -We were working in touch with a French corps on our left, and early -one morning we were sent ahead to this village, which we had reason to -believe was clear of the enemy. On the outskirts we questioned a French -lad, but he seemed scared and ran away. We went on through the long -narrow street, and just as we were in sight of the end a man dashed -out from a farmhouse on the right. Immediately the rifles began to -crack in front, and the poor chap fell dead before he reached us. He -was one of our men, a private of the ----. We learned that he had been -captured the previous day by a party of German cavalry, and had been -held a prisoner at the farm, where the Germans were in ambush for us. -He guessed their game, and though he knew that if he made the slightest -sound they would kill him, he decided to make a dash to warn us of what -was in store. He had more than a dozen bullets in him. We buried him -next day with military honours. His identification disc and everything -else was missing, so that we could only put over his grave the tribute, -“He saved others.” There wasn’t a dry eye among us when we laid him to -rest in that little village: _A Corporal at the Aisne_. - - -Heroes All - -In one of our fights it was necessary to give orders to a battalion -holding an exposed position to retire. Bugle-calls were no good, and -the only thing was for men to risk their lives by rushing across an -open space of 400 yards at least under a hellish fire. Volunteers were -asked for from the Royal Irish Fusiliers, and, though every man knew -that he was taking his life in his hand, the whole lot volunteered. -They couldn’t all go, so they tossed for it in files, the man who -couldn’t guess the way the coin came down at least once out of three -times being selected. The first was a shock-headed chap who didn’t look -as if there was very much in him. Ducking his head in a comic way that -would have made you roar, he rushed into that blinding hail of bullets. -He cleared the first 100 yards without being hit. It was a miracle how -he did it, but in the second lap he was hit. He ran on for a minute or -two, but staggered and fell after being hit a second time. Two more men -stepped forward and dashed across while the Germans were doing their -best to pink them. One picked up the wounded man and started to carry -him in to the trenches, while the other ran ahead with the precious -dispatch. Just as the wounded man and his mate were within a few yards -of safety and we were cheering them for all we knew, there was a -perfectly wicked volley from the Germans, and both of them collapsed. -We dragged them in, but it was too late. Both were dead. The fourth man -kept up his race against death and seemed to bear a charmed life, but -in the last lap as you might say he went down like a felled ox. He was -seen from the trenches to which the message was being taken, and half -a dozen men ran out to his aid, the Germans renewing their fire with -greater fierceness. The whole of the little party was shot down, but -the wounded Fusilier still continued to crawl to the trenches with his -message. Another party came out and carried him in, as well as seeing -to the others. Later the battalion holding the advanced position was -able to fall back in good order, but it wasn’t the least bit too soon, -and had it not been for those brave chaps, who risked their lives to -carry that message, there would have been a battalion less to fight -our battles that day, as the Germans were working round unknown to the -officer in command, and would have cut it off as sure as I’m a soldier: -_A Corporal of the Gloucester Regiment_. - - - - -XIV. TALES OF TRAGEDY - - _Say not the struggle naught availeth, - The labour and the wounds are vain, - The enemy faints not, nor faileth, - And as things have been they remain._ - - _For now by eastern windows only, - When daylight comes, comes in the light; - In front the sun climbs slow, how slowly! - But westward, look, the land is bright!_ - - A. H. CLOUGH. - - -Darling,--I am now lying in a forest with my leg shot off, and don’t -know when the ambulance will turn up. It’s awful. I hope I shall see -you again. Love to baby and all: _Jack_. - - -Invaded! - -People at home can’t realize what it means to have their country -invaded. Inoffensive people are sitting in their homes, when, without -the slightest warning, away comes death and destruction in the shape -of artillery shells from an enemy that doesn’t know the meaning of the -first letter of fairplay: _Pte. E. Bush, The Buffs_. - - -Better Dead! - -A live shell burst and hit one poor fellow in the lower part of the -body. I asked him if I could do anything for him, and he said, “Yes; -have you got a rifle?” “Yes,” I said. “Well,” he said, “for God’s sake -shoot me out of my misery.” I told him I could not do that, so I gave -him water: _Pte. F. Bruce, Suffolk Regiment_. - - -Of Wife and Child - -In our trenches on the Aisne after a hard fight we found one of the -Gloucesters with an unfinished letter in his hand. It was written to -his wife and little girl. It spoke hopefully of the future, and said, -“Tell Annie I will be home in time to make her Christmas tree.” He -never got further, for a German shell had laid him out: _A Seaforth -Highlander_. - - -Loot! - -The looting has been awful; beautiful homes broken up, and articles -of clothing, household linen, pictures, and furniture smashed to -atoms and trodden under foot. They took away the wines, for on our -advance up country the numerous German camps were strewn with bottles, -articles of equipment, and other things too numerous to mention. They -leave their killed by the side of the roads, and in the streets of -villages--anywhere, in fact: _Sergt.-Major H. Attree, 18th Hussars_. - - -The Roll call - -The horrors of war can only be imagined; yet we seem to get used to -them. It seems callous to me, but after the battle we have roll-call. -The sergeant calls out the names. Perhaps the first one he calls -is missing. Nobody knows where he is. The next one is called, and -somebody says, “I saw him shot.” The sergeant puts him down as “shot” -or “wounded.” Nobody comments or says anything: _Corporal R. W. Crow, -Royal Engineers_. - - -Reading Ruskin - -I came on a wounded man of the Lancashire Fusiliers one day. He had two -ghastly wounds in his breast, and I fancy he was booked through. He was -quietly reading a little edition of Ruskin’s “Crown of Wild Olive,” and -seemed to be enjoying it immensely. As I chatted with him for a few -minutes he told me that this little book had been his companion all -through and that when he died he wanted it to be buried with him. His -end came next day, and we buried the book with him: _A Sergeant of the -Fifth Lancers_. - - -“All Right!” - -After being under the deadliest of shell fire for eight days I was hit, -but, thank God, no bones broken. I shall never forget my poor chum. He -had his leg broken with the bone sticking out, and also a great gash -in the thigh. But the one glorious thing about it is, as soon as we -realized we were hit, we joined in prayer to our Father, after which we -helped one another to bandage ourselves up. I haven’t seen him since -they carried us out of the trenches, but I am sure he is all right: -_Pte. W. Marshall, 1st Devonshire Regiment_. - - -Keepsakes! - -The shortest will I have ever heard of was made one night by a chap of -the Royal Scots. He was bowled over in a rush at the German trenches, -and, with what must have been his dying breath, he shouted after his -chum, “Jock, ye can hae ma fags.” Later we came on him dead, and Jock -got the fags all right in his breast pocket; but I don’t think he would -part with them if he wanted a smoke ever so, and none of us would have -asked him to do it: _A Cameron Highlander_. - - -Nellie’s Anxiety - -I suppose Nellie is very anxious over me, but tell her I am going on -grand, and am delighted I am living and able to use my rifle. As long -as I can account for a German life every time I get the chance, that is -all I care about, and every other British soldier is just the same. It -is marvellous the pluck of our officers; they would face anything, and -where they go we follow them, and would follow them anywhere. We have -a lot of our officers killed; and it is a pity, poor fellows, for they -are brave men. When we get close to the Germans they run like hell from -our rifle fire, and then we get a grand chance at them: _Sergt. E. F. -Eagar, Royal Irish Regiment_. - - -The Dog It Was! - -There was a big, awkward, gawky lad of the Camerons who took a fancy -to a Scotch collie that had followed us about a lot, and one day the -dog got left behind when we were falling back. The big lad was terribly -upset, and went back to look for it. He found it, and was trudging -along with it in his arms, making forced marches to overtake us, when -he fell in with a party of Uhlans on the prowl. He and his dog fought -their best, but they hadn’t a chance, and both were killed: _A Private -of the Highland Light Infantry_. - - -The Trail of the Sword - -It is a shame to see the lovely homes that have been deserted, the -people trekking along the roads with any belongings they can manage to -carry with them or wheel on barrows, and women with little babies in -arms flying for their lives, and perhaps an old mother being helped -along behind. These sights make lumps come in your throat, and make you -think what it would be if a similar thing were to happen at home. When -we first came here we went right through into Belgium, and as we were -retiring the Germans were setting fire to all villages. It was a common -thing to see two or three villages alight at the same time: _A British -Gunner_. - - -His Loved Ones - -Just as he was going into battle a man of the Staffordshire Regiment -received a letter announcing the sudden death of his wife and baby -daughter. There was no time for tears or vain regrets, and he had to go -into the fight with his heart stricken with that terrible grief. In the -fighting he acquitted himself like a hero, and just as we were retiring -he received a mortal wound. I offered a word of sympathy, but he would -not hear of it. “Never mind,” he said, “I’m booked through; but I have -sent a few Germans before; and, anyhow, I am going to see the ones I -love”: _A Sergeant of the 9th Lancers_. - - -Vultures - -We came on a German who had been pinned down under a gun-carriage that -had to be abandoned. He could not extricate himself, and he simply had -to lie there with two loathsome vultures waiting to nibble at him when -the last spark of life had gone. He was relieved when we found him, -for you can imagine it’s not nice to see these awful creatures waiting -to make a meal of you. Whenever we see them we kill them, but they are -always hovering about the battlefields, and they always follow our men -on the march. Some instinct seems to tell them when to expect dead -men. They are terribly afraid of the aeroplanes, and when the machines -are up vultures clear out of the way: _Pte. T. R. Morgan, Royal Field -Artillery_. - - -A Song of Death - -I am a bit down in the mouth over a thing that happened last night. We -had a bit of a sing-song and smoker to mark the arrival in camp of a -couple of boxes of cigarettes. My best chum, the one I have told you -about so often, was called on for a song, and, just as he took his fag -out of his mouth to oblige, a shell dropped into us, and he was badly -wounded on the side and in the head. “I’m done for, George,” was all -he had time to say, and off he went. He was a fine chum. No man ever -had better, and we were all cut up about it. He had a wife and four -children at home. God only knows what will become of them now: _A -Sergeant of the 1st Division Staff_. - - -No More Cold Trenches - -There was a chap of the Berkshires who, like many more of us, had -’listed after a row with his girl. At the crossing of the Aisne he got -hit, and he had just breath enough to tell me the name of the girl, and -ask me to write to her. “Tell her,” he said, “I’m sorry we had that -row, but it was for the best, for if we hadn’t had it I should not have -been able to do my bit for my country. It seems awfully hard that I can -never see her again to explain things to her, but I’m sure she will -think better of me now than if I had been one of the stay-at-homes. -Good-bye, old chap; there’ll be no more cold nights in the trenches for -me, anyhow”: _A Private of the Leicestershire Regiment_. - - -A Lady’s Handkerchief - -I found myself mixed up with a French regiment on the right. I wanted -to go forward with them, but the officer in charge shook his head -and smiled. “They will spot you in your khaki and put you out in no -time,” he said in English; “make your way to the left; you’ll find your -fellows on that hill.” I watched the regiment till it disappeared; -then I made my way across a field and up a big avenue of trees. The -shells were whistling overhead, but there was nothing to be afraid of. -Half-way up the avenue there was a German lancer officer lying dead by -the side of the road. How he got there was a mystery because we had -seen no cavalry. But there he lay, and someone had crossed his hands on -his breast and put a little celluloid crucifix in his hands. Over his -face was a beautiful little handkerchief--a lady’s--with a lace edging. -It was a bit of a mystery because there wasn’t a lady for miles that I -knew of: _A British Infantryman_. - - -All Gone - -Letters have just arrived. How sad that the men cannot have them. -We call the names out, but there is no answer. They perhaps know in -heaven. Old England, when she hears about the battle, will be proud of -us. The Germans were ten to one, and we outfought them. I have lost -nearly all my best chums, and have seen some terrible sights. My pack -was blown from my back, my cap was taken away, and a bullet or shell -stripped my trousers from my thigh to the knee. Our colonel and nearly -all the officers are gone. One chap in my company, only eighteen and -a half years, had both legs blown away. The sergeant you shook hands -with, ----, has gone: _Sergt. Roberts, Loyal Lancashires_. - - -Fired! - -One night we spent in a pretty old village, where the people were very -hospitable. They made some of us a bed on a cottage floor, and gave us -food. Said good-bye and left about 5 A.M. A few hours later we looked -back and saw the flames of the place mounting to the sky. Fired by -the enemy, was the fate of that village and many more for giving our -troops shelter for a night. Have seen thousands of refugees on the -roads flying from the enemy, carrying all their worldly possessions on -their backs. One sees many sad sights of this nature. Women tramping -wearily along, sobbing with terror at the booming of the great guns and -the distant glare of blazing homesteads. We have also seen hundreds of -German prisoners, mostly looking “fed up.” Tried to have a chat with -one the other morning, but owing to our respective knowledge of English -and German being limited, conversation was ditto. Have just been told -it’s Sunday to-day. Had quite lost count, as all days seem much alike: -_Corpl. F. W. Street, R.E._ - - -One Taken! - -With Tom Caisley on one side and Joe Fair on the other I was hopping -along, with the shells bursting all around us. My strength was going, -when I turned to Tom and said, “I’m beat, Tom,” but he answered, “Stick -it, son.” I shall never forget his words, and I did “stick it,” till he -saw two fellows with a stretcher and called them over. I was put on the -stretcher and shook hands with Tom and Joe, wishing them good-bye. Then -they went back to the firing line, and I was taken to a cave, where I -had my leg dressed; the bullet had gone right through the thigh. I had -only been in this place about half an hour when a chap called Nicholson -was brought in wounded, and I asked him if Tom and Joe were all -right. He gave me a shock when he said Joe Fair had been killed while -assisting him. I must confess that I cried, for Joe had been chums with -Tom and me for years: _Private Thomas Elliott_. - - -A Dash for It - -I met a man belonging to C Company of the Gordons who was bleeding very -much. He shouted to me, “For God’s sake take me out of action.” I put -him on a stretcher with the help of another bearer. We lifted him up, -and just then a shell broke a tree in half close by. The trunk fell -right across the man’s head, killing him at once. It was getting dusk -and we could not find out where our company was, as they had retired -fighting. I walked about the woods very quietly at night with three -others and then heard some English voices. We looked ahead and saw a -battery of artillery in a lane in front of us. They said they were -ambushed between two lines of fire, and shouted, “Come, get a gun, and -take pot luck with us.” We started, although twenty-four of the first -team’s horses were shot, the middle driver was dead, and the one on the -second leading horse was wounded in the head. We all decided to make -a dash for it in the morning. We did so over dead horses and men and -found our regiment at 3 A.M. In the meantime we had got some corn from -the fields, but for three days we had nothing to eat and drink but -apples, dirty water, and red wine: _Bandsman T. Winstanley_. - - -A Cave Disaster - -I have had some experiences, but I think the saddest was the digging -out of a number of men from a kind of subterranean passage or cave, -which had fallen in and buried about thirty of the Camerons. The other -night information was brought to the camp that the Cameron Highlanders -had met with a disaster, and I was sent off immediately with a party -of our chaps to go to their assistance. We were taken to a spot on a -hillside, which reminded me of the caves of Cheddar, and which had been -shelled. The turf and earth were thrown up in all directions as the -result of a bombardment. There were several large and small caves, and -one of them had been used as a hiding-place by the Camerons. No doubt -this was spotted by the Germans, for they directed their guns on it, -and it collapsed. The poor fellows were buried underneath many tons of -earth. This happened early in the day, and although several attempts -had been made to extricate the men, very little could be done, as the -bursting of the shells on the same spot drove off the small rescue -parties. I had to leave before the work was completed, but I helped to -dig out two dead officers and several men. The position of these caves -was well known to the Germans, for they had previously occupied them, -and no doubt took a fiendish delight in smashing them up when they saw -the Camerons take shelter in them: _Sapper G. A. Bell, Royal Engineers_. - - -An Irish Rifle - -There was a young chap of the Irish Rifles. He was kneeling beside -a wounded man of the Gloucester, keeping off the Germans, who were -circling round like carrion birds. He had been hit himself, but was -gamely firing at the enemy as fast as his wounded arm would permit. We -went to his assistance, but they were both worn-out when we reached -them, and, greatly to our regret, we had to leave them to be picked -up by the Red Cross people. That was hard; but if you tried to pick -up every wounded man you saw you wouldn’t be much use as a fighter, -and as we were under urgent orders to take up a position from which to -cover the retreat, we had no time for sentiment. They knew that, and -they weren’t the men to ask us to risk the safety of the army for them. -“Never mind,” the rifleman said, with a faint smile on a ghastly face, -“the sisters will pick us up when it’s all over, but if they don’t, -sure, then we’ve only got once to die, and it’s the grand fight we -had, anyhow. What more could soldiers ask for?” When we came back again -one of the men was there sure enough--stone dead; but his mate had -gone, and whether it was the Germans or the Red Cross people that got -him I wouldn’t care to say: _A Trooper of the Irish Dragoons_. - - -The Worst Part - -I think the worst part of it all to bear is seeing the refugees; it -breaks you up to see people too old to walk being pushed about in -wheelbarrows and hand-carts. Let the Germans look out if the French -and the Belgians get into Germany, for there will be the devil to pay, -I bet. It would be hard to blame them, whatever they do, after what I -have seen done to villages here.... The pepper is good stuff; I put -some in my tea--it warms you up a treat: _Bombardier Yorke, R.H.A._ - - - - -XV. ANECDOTES OF HUMOUR - - _Said the king to the colonel, - “The complaints are eternal, - That you Irish give more trouble - Than any other corps.”_ - - _Said the colonel to the king, - “This complaint is no new thing, - For your foemen, sire, have made it - A hundred times before.”_ - - SIR ARTHUR CONAN DOYLE. - - -The French tobacco is terrible, and the matches! Oh! Our fellows have -christened them “Asquiths” because you have to “wait and see”: _A -Private of the R.A.M.C._ - - -“Blime!” - -One German Uhlan came up to an outpost of the Northampton and said, -“Blime, take me a prisoner, I am fed up.” He had worked in London: _A -Private of the Loyal North Lancashire Regiment_. - - -The Proof of It - -A woman said laughingly to me, “If you kill the Kaiser you shall have -my daughter.” I replied that I could do that all right, and that she -could have a hair of his moustache: _Private R. Coombe_. - - -Laughter! - -Although the war has its stern, hard, realistic side, there is also -a humorous side, especially so with our Tommies. They turn almost -everything into a joke; in fact, I think that is the secret of their -wonderful sang-froid: _Quartermaster-Sergt. Ridewood, 2nd Welsh -Regiment_. - - -A Great Game - -What a dirty-looking lot we were--holes in our clothes and beards. -Every time we passed a clothes-line the fellows took the clothes off -it. They had lassies’ nightdresses and chemises, and anything, so long -as it made a shirt. What a game it was! _A Private of the 5th Lancers_. - - -“Fine Feeds” - -We are having good sport out here. I have got as good a heart now as I -had when I left home. I tell you, there is nothing better than having a -few shells and bullets buzzing round you as long as you don’t stop one. -We are having some fine feeds out here--ducks, chickens, rabbits, and -bags of fruit: _Trooper Maddocks, 5th Cavalry Brigade_. - - -No Tango in Paris - -The Germans painted on the walls, “We will make the English do the -Tango in Paris on September 13.” But we have had a say in that, and -I am certain there are a few thousands less Germans now than there -were since they wrote that message: _Pte. W. Blackburn, 2nd Coldstream -Guards_. - - -L.B.W.! - -An officer of the Cheshires, who is a bit of a cricketer, got -uncomfortable after being cramped so long in the trenches. He raised -his leg in shifting his position, and a bit of a shell hit him in the -thigh. As he fell back all he said was, “Out, by George! l.b.w., as the -umpire would say. Better luck next innings”: _A Trooper of the Royal -Horse Guards_. - - -Irish and Merry - -We are settling down to the hard grind of active service, and if you -saw us now you would think we well deserved our regimental nickname, -“The Dirty Shirts.” When you have wielded the pick and shovel for a day -or two in a blazing sun you don’t look as though you were going to a -tea party or to chapel: _Private T. Mulligan_. - - -Cock-a-Doodle-Doo! - -It is great fun watching the efforts of the troops to make the French -people understand what they want. One of our fellows thought he would -try for some eggs at a farmhouse. Naturally, they couldn’t understand -him, so he opened his mouth, rubbed his stomach, flapped his arms, and -cried, “Cock-a-doodle-doo!” The eggs came promptly: _Bombdr. H. Cressy, -Royal Field Artillery_. - - -Surrounded Them - -Pat Ryan, of the Connaught Rangers, thought he ought to do something -to celebrate his birthday, which fell on Friday week. Without telling -a soul he went out of the trenches in the afternoon, and came back -after dusk with two big Germans in tow. How or where he got them -nobody knows. The captain asked how he managed to catch the two. “Sure -and I surrounded them, sorr,” was the answer: _A Gunner of the Royal -Artillery_. - - -Joking not Apart - -We had six bridges to blow up. The centre bridge was to go up first, -and we were to get over quickly after we had laid the charge. While -we were waiting--there were ten of us--we saw a chap from the West -Kents coming over, and we told him to jump for his life. The fuse was -actually burning at the time, and I guess he broke all the records for -jumping. A party of the King’s Own went into one battle shouting out, -“Early doors this way. Early doors, ninepence!”: _Sapper Mugridge_. - - -Left the Duck - -I was wounded in rather a curious manner. Being caterer to the -officers’ mess, I was preparing the dinner, plucking a duck in the -backyard, when a shell burst, and I was hit on the shoulder and head. -I had laid the tables for dinner before, and to my surprise when I -was expecting the return of officers, I was confronted by a party of -Germans, who sat down and ate a hearty meal, while I managed to escape. -Whether they finished the plucking and cooking of the duck, I thought -it advisable not to return and see: _Sergt. Hanks, 4th Middlesex -Regiment_. - - -Swimming for Them - -For two whole days the rain came down on us in bucketfuls. It was like -having the sea bottom turned upwards and the contents poured over us. -At one point tents were floating around like yachts on the lake at the -Welsh Harp. Those who had been foolish enough to get on the wrong side -of their clothes the night before had the devil’s own job to find them -in the morning. Swimming after your things when you wake up isn’t an -aid to quick dressing: _A Private of the Grenadiers_. - - -Asked for Him - -A wounded soldier I picked up the other day told me an amusing tale, -although he was severely hurt. His regiment was capturing some Germans, -and they were being disarmed, when this chap, in asking a German for -his rifle, was bayoneted twice by the German and fell down unconscious. -When he came round he said to his pals, “Where is the blighter?” “Never -mind, Mick, don’t worry,” replied his pals; “we have just buried him”: -_Sergt. Hughes, Army Medical Corps_. - - -Mighty Particular - -There was a chap of the Grenadier Guards who was always mighty -particular about his appearance, and persisted in wearing a tie all the -time, whereas most of us reduce our needs to the simplest possible. One -day, under heavy rifle fire, he was seen to be in a frightful fluster. -“Are you hit?” he was asked. “No,” he said. “What is it, then?” “This ----- tie is not straight,” he replied, and proceeded to adjust it under -fire: _Corpl. C. Hamer, Coldstream Guards_. - - -Swear Words - -One night when we were toiling along like to drop with fatigue, we ran -right into a big party of horsemen posted near a wood. We thought they -were Germans, for we could not make out the colour of the uniforms or -anything else, until we heard someone sing out, “Where the hell do you -think you’re going to?” Then we knew they were friends, and I don’t -think I was ever so glad to hear a real good English swear: _A Driver -of the Royal Artillery_. - - -Maids of All Work - -Our Allies were greatly “taken” with the Highlanders, and many of -them expressed surprise at the kindly behaviour and hearty manner of -the Scotsmen. Apparently they thought the “kilties” were of a rather -barbaric nature. Two Highlanders were billeted with an old French -lady. Her strange lodgers gave the landlady no end of entertainment. -They insisted on washing the dishes and doing all the housework, and -when finished with these duties went the length of delving the garden: -_Private D. Goldie_. - - -Step Outside - -In camp one night one of the German prisoners was chock-full of -peace-at-any-price cant, and talked a lot about all men being brothers. -This didn’t please Terry Monahan, an Irish private of the Liverpool -Regiment, and, in a towering rage, he turned on the German: “You dirty, -church-going, altar-defiling, priest-murdering German devil,” he cried, -“ye’re no brother of mine, and by the holy saints if ye’ll only step -outside for wan minit it’s me will knock all the nonsense out of yer -ugly head”: _A Sergeant of the York and Lancaster Regiment_. - - -Didn’t Wait! - -There were two lads of our regiment who were both hit, and there was -only one stretcher for them. Each had his views about which had the -most need of it first. The big one got ragged with the other’s refusal, -so raising himself with his unwounded arm, he cried, “You go the noo, -Jock, an’ if you’re no slippy about it, you’ll gaur me gae ye something -ye’ll remember when I’m a’ richt again.” Jock didn’t wait any longer -after that: _A Private of the Highland Light Infantry_. - - -Kaiser and Highlander - -During the advance we saw chalked notices written by Germans, such as -“Wilhelm, Emperor of Europe.” Then underneath you would see a British -Tommy had written, “I don’t think.” One curious incident was the sight -of a Highlander who had taken pity on a woman refugee who was carrying -two babies. He took one up in each arm, and carried them along whilst -the woman walked by his side carrying his rifle. I could not see what -Highland regiment he belonged to because there was hardly a man who had -a badge: _Corpl. W. L. Pook, Royal Engineers_. - - -“Shove-Ha’penny” - -An infantry chap found a table and, scoring lines on it with his -bayonet, joined in a game of “shove-ha’penny” with four other -Tommies. The sequel came later, as sequels will. When the party -managed to reassemble for another game a shell had smashed the table -to smithereens. “My luck’s out wi’ the infernal shove-ha’penny,” -said the infantry chap. “I’m blowed if I’ll play any more.” Then he -explained that just before the war he was playing for pots of beer in a -public-house when the police raided the place. “Now it’s the Germans,” -he added bitterly: _A Private of the Army Medical Corps_. - - -Comments - -You hear some quaint remarks under heavy artillery fire. One day -everything was quiet for a bit except for their shells, and one fellow -shouted, “Fall in here for your pay, ‘A’ Company,” which caused men -and officers to laugh aloud. When once we get under fire we take very -little notice of it, for it seems to come natural to us. All we look -for is something to shoot at, taking no notice of what our comrades -are doing on either side. When ammunition is gone we shout, “Some more -souvenirs for the Huns”: _Pte. Homewood, Duke of Cornwall’s Light -Infantry_. - - -“Mein Gott!” - -A funny thing happened about a week ago. The scout officer of our -regiment went out reconnoitring one night and rather lost his bearings. -As he thought he was on his way back he bumped up against a trench -which he took for his own, and started to walk along it till he came -to someone, obviously an officer, walking up and down. “Hullo! Good -evening,” he said; when the other officer, jumping back, said, “Mein -Gott, the English!” and before he had got over his surprise the scout -officer jumped out of the trench and got away without being hit: _A -British Scout_. - - -“Tickets, Please!” - -There’s a corporal of a regiment that I won’t name who was a -ticket-collector on the railway before the war, and when he was called -back to the colours he wasn’t able to forget his old trade. One day -he was in charge of a patrol that surprised a party of Germans in a -wood, and, instead of a usual call to surrender, he sang out, “Tickets, -please!” The Germans seemed to understand what he was driving at, for -they surrendered at once, but that chap will never hear the end of the -story, for when everything else ceases to amuse in the trenches, you -have only to shout out, “Tickets, please!” to set everybody in fits: _A -Gunner of the Royal Artillery_. - - -No Uhlans Need Apply! - -We were about as hungry as men could be when we came on a party of -Uhlans just about to sit down to a nice dinner which had been prepared -for them at a big house. They looked as if they had had too much of a -good time lately and wanted thinning down; so we took them prisoners, -and let them watch us enjoying their dinner. They didn’t like it at -all, and one of them muttered something about an English pig. The baby -of the troop asked him to come outside to settle it with fists, but he -wasn’t having it. After the best dinner I’ve had in my life we went -round to where the Uhlans had commandeered the supplies and offered to -pay, but the people were so pleased that we had got the food instead of -the Germans that they wouldn’t hear of payment: _Trooper Dale, Royal -Dragoons_. - - -Cooking Their Dinner - -Have you ever tried cooking a dinner under shell fire? It’s about as -exciting as anything you could have in this world. Yesterday we were in -the firing line, and as there were no prospects of relief, we had to -make a spit and roast some fowls we had been given by the villagers. -Just when they were doing nicely, and we were going around to turn -them, the Germans found the range, and shells began to drop all around. -We had to lie low, and when there was a lull one of us would rush out -and turn the nearest bird, and then run back again under cover. We got -them cooked all right, but two of our chaps were killed outright and -four injured. That’s a big bill to pay for a dinner; but soldiers are -like beggars, they can’t be choosers. Out here is no place for the -faint-hearts, and we want only real men, who are afraid of nothing: -_Pte. T. Bayley, 5th Irish Lancers_. - - -Business as Usual - -Our men had just had their papers from home, and have noted, among -other things, that “Business as Usual” is the motto of patriotic -shopkeepers. In hard fighting the Wiltshires, holding an exposed -position, ran out of ammunition, and had to suspend firing until a -party brought fresh supplies across the open under a heavy fire. -Then the wag of the regiment, a Cockney, produced a biscuit tin with -“Business as Usual” crudely printed on it, and set it up before the -trenches as a hint to the Germans that the fight could now be resumed -on more equal terms. Finally the tin had to be taken in because it was -proving such a good target for the German riflemen, but the joker was -struck twice in rescuing it: _A Private of the Wiltshire Regiment_. - - -For Neuralgia! - -We’re just keeping at it in the same old slogging style that always -brings us out on top. There’s one chap in our company has got a ripping -cure for neuralgia, but he isn’t going to take out a patent, because -it’s too risky, and might kill the patient. Good luck’s one of the -ingredients, and you can’t always be sure of that. He was lying in -the trenches the other day nearly mad with pain in his face, when a -German shell burst close by. He wasn’t hit, but the explosion knocked -him senseless for a bit. “Me neuralgia’s gone,” says he, when he came -round. “And so’s six of your mates,” says we. “Oh, crikey!” says -he. His name’s Palmer, and that’s why we call the German shells now -“Palmer’s Neuralgia Cure”: _Pte. H. Thomson, 1st Gordon Highlanders_. - - -“The Wearin’ o’ the Green!” - -The German officer rushed off to Tim Flanagan, the biggest caution in -the whole regiment, and called on him to surrender the file of men -under his orders. “Is it me your honour’s after talking to in that -way?” says Tim in that bold way of his. “Sure, now, it’s yourself that -ought to be surrendering, and if you’re not off this very minute, you -ill-mannered German omadhaun, it’s me will be after giving you as -much cold steel as’ll do you between this and the kingdom of heaven.” -Then the German officer gave the word to his men, and what happened -after that I can’t tell to you, for it was just then I got a bullet -between my ribs; but I can tell you that neither Tim nor any of his men -surrendered: _A Private of the Connaught Rangers_. - - -Not a Yarn - -A barber would do a roaring trade if he came here, no one having -shaved for weeks. Consequently, beards vary according to the age of -the individual and the length of time he has not shaved. Mine, for -instance, is something to gaze on and remember. They are not by any -means what a writer in a lady’s novelette would describe as “a perfect -dream.” They are scattered over my chivvy-chase in anything but order, -nineteen on one side, fifteen on the other, and thirty-five on the -chin, intermixed with a small smattering of down and dirt. Dirt, did -I say? That doesn’t describe it. Water is at a discount, except for -drinking: soap something to read about, and you wonder when you last -used it, and when you will use it again. I can safely say, “Three weeks -ago I used your soap; since then I have used no other.” And that’s not -spinning you a yarn: _Sergt. Diggins, Leicestershire Regiment_. - - -“Hallo, Old Tin Hat!” - -About four thousand Germans, backed up by heavy artillery play, tried -to cross the river. There were only 300 Connaught Rangers all told -who could be spared to keep them from fixing pontoons. Down to the -river-bank they came, firing for all they were worth. The Irishmen -were entrenched, and shouted across the river such greeting as “Hallo, -old tin hat! When are you coming over?” and as soon as the Irishmen -caught sight of the great boots of the Germans, Hibernian humour was -irrepressible. The Rangers shouted, “We see you; it’s no good hiding -there. We can see your ears sticking out!” Then the Rangers settled -down to enjoy themselves, but a little later some more German infantry, -which had crossed the river to another point, attempted to outflank -them. It was terribly hard work, but the way the Irish stuck it would -have taken your breath away: _A Nottingham Artilleryman_. - - -Orange and Green - -Mick Clancy is that droll with his larking and bamboozling the Germans -that he makes us nearly split our sides laughing at him and his ways. -Yesterday he got a stick and put a cap on it so that it peeped above -the trenches just like a man, and then the Germans kept shooting away -at it until they must have used up tons of ammunition, and there was -us all the time laughing at them. Tommy McQuiston, the big sergeant -from the Black North, does nothing else morning, noon, and night but -talk about Ned Carson and what he and his volunteers will do when they -come out to fight the Germans. He has to put up with a lot of banter -and back chat from us on the quiet in the sergeants’ mess, but, sure, -though he’s mad Orange, he knows as well as anyone that we think no -less of him for that. To get his dander up we tell him he’s going to be -the door porter in the Dublin Parliament when the war’s over; but he -never begrudges us our bit of diversion and devilment, and says more -like he’ll end his days as a warder in a convict prison in charge of -us: _Sergeant T. Cahill_. - - - - -XVI. STORIES OF SACRIFICE - - _What have I done for you, - England, my England? - What is there I would not do, - England, my own?_ - - W. E. HENLEY’S “For England’s Sake.” - - _Soldier, soldier, if by shot and shell - They wound him, my dear lad, my sweetheart O, - He’ll lie bleeding in the rain - And call me, all in vain, - Crying for the fingers of his sweetheart O._ - - MAURICE HEWLETT’S “Soldier, Soldier.” - - -Give them a cigarette and let them grip the operating-table, and -they will stick anything until they practically collapse: _Corpl. H. -Stewart, Royal Army Medical Corps_. - - -Poor Minnie! - -They have shot my greatest friend from under me--my horse Minnie, the -most faithful animal in the world. God forgive them for that; I never -will: _Pte. Knowles, 6th Dragoons_. - - -His Last Wish - -I came across a young chap sitting with his back against a tree--dead, -and around him, in a circle, he placed all his letters and photographs, -as much as to say: “Please post these to the people concerned, as I am -dying”: _A Private of the Northumberland Fusiliers_. - - -The Christian Way - -One of our men holding his water-bottle to a wounded German was shot -dead close to Mons on Sunday. Another stopped under fire to light a -cigarette, when a bullet struck him on the fingers, and one hand will -have to come off: _Private S. Burns_. - - -Asked for the Colours - -In the middle of the battle a driver got wounded and asked to see the -colours before he died, and he was told by an officer that the guns -were his colours. He replied, “Tell the drivers to keep their eyes on -their guns, because if we lose our guns we lose our colours”: _Driver -W. Moore, Royal Field Artillery_. - - -Not a Murmur - -The grandest thing to buck a man up is the way our men take their -wounds. You do not hear them yelling when they are hit. You hear the -words, “I’ve got it, boys. Hard luck!” It is grand to see the way they -take it, a smile on their face, and not a murmur as they are carried -down on the stretchers: _Pte. A. Robson, 7th Batt. Royal Fusiliers_. - - -Saving a Tragedy - -I was fetching our bottles of water. I crept to one house. The woman -tried to tell me something in French. I could not understand, so she -pulled me in the next room. There was a woman just confined. She was on -the point of madness. I could not do anything, so I told my officer. -He sent me for the parson, and got some of us together, and we carried -her, bed and all, to a safe place: _Pte. E. Smith, 2nd Worcestershire -Regiment_. - - -Going Home! - -It was wonderful how cheerful the wounded were. One poor fellow who had -been shot in the head, and hit by a shrapnel bullet in the mouth--he -was apparently dying--pointed out to me another man, badly wounded, -remarking, “That poor bloke is going home; he will be gone before me”: -_Pte. W. Webb, Royal Army Medical Corps_. - - -Like Jackie! - -I was in a cottage in France, in the country, Tuesday night, to cook -a bit of grub--we had had none all day--and while I was doing it the -woman cried bitterly, as her husband was at the front, but I tried to -cheer her up as best I could; she had a boy like Jackie, so I told her -I was married and had a wife and child, and she cried worse still then: -_Private Davies, of Ipswich_. - - -Lit His “Fag” - -“Is there anything I can do for you, old chap?” I asked a wounded man -of the Hampshires, one day. “Yes,” he answered, “you might light my fag -for me. You will find matches and all in my inside pocket.” I did as he -asked, and the last glimpse I caught of him he was lying out there with -German shells and bullets flying all around, calmly smoking a “Gold -Flake.” That spirit is characteristic of our lads: _A Private of the -Grenadier Guards_. - - -Cheerful in Verse - -I was through all the fighting, commencing with the battle of Mons, -until the 9th of last month, when I got wounded. This little verse will -explain a lot: - - I was wounded on the 9th, - Near the River Marne. - They got me in hospital on the 13th, - On the 18th they took off my arm: - -_A Corporal of the Durham Light Infantry_. - - -Succouring the Enemy - -A lot of German wounded were moved into a wood for protection and -shelter against the rain. Their own artillery opened fire, and soon -all the trees were ablaze. The cries of the wounded were agonizing. A -party of our men asked permission from their officers to go and carry -the Germans out. They did it under heavy fire all the time. The wounded -men were very grateful, and said that had it not been for our lads -they would have been burned alive: _A Private of the Highland Light -Infantry_. - - -A Splendid Corporal - -Near Cambrai one dark night the British took the offensive against the -Germans, who were holding a bridge spanning the canal. When our men -reached an embankment running sharply down to the river several failed -to secure a foothold and fell into the water. Four of the men, who were -unable to swim, were in imminent danger of drowning, when Corporal -Brindall, an excellent swimmer, plunged into the river and rescued -all four in turn. He was clambering up the embankment himself, when -a German shell exploded near him, killing him instantly: _Drummer H. -Savage, 1st Batt. Royal Berks_. - - -A Yorkshire “Tyke” - -One night in the trenches a man of the West Yorkshire Regiment took -off his coat and wrapped it around a wounded chum who had to lie there -until the ambulance took him away. All that night the game “tyke” stood -in the trenches in his shirt-sleeves, with water up to his waist, and -the temperature near to freezing-point, quietly returning the German -fire. In the morning he would only own to “a bit of a chill that a -cup of tea and a smoke would soon put right,” but I wasn’t surprised -to learn that he had to be sent down to the base with pneumonia that -afternoon. I hope he will pull through: _A Sergeant of the Liverpool -Regiment_. - - -The Other Man! - -After one of our hard fights in the Aisne, there was occasion to let -the wounded lie out in the rain all night. I came on one man of the -Royal Irish Fusiliers who was done for. He had a waterproof cloak over -him, but near by was a man of the artillery without any covering at -all. I asked the Irishman if I could do anything for him. “Nothing,” -he said; “but if you would take this cloak and throw it over that poor -chap there I would be so grateful. I will never pull through, but he -may if he is attended to at once. Good-bye. See that the vultures don’t -get me when I’m gone, will you?”: _A Private from the Aisne_. - - -A Costly Apple - -There was a “boy” of the Connaught Rangers who made a rush out of the -trenches under heavy fire to an orchard near by to get an apple for -a wounded comrade who was suffering from thirst and hunger. He got -the apple all right, but he got a German bullet or two in him as well -on the way back, and dropped dead within fifty feet of the goal. The -wounded chap had his apple brought in, after an artilleryman had been -wounded in getting at it, and I hope he valued it, for it was the -costliest apple I ever heard tell of bar one, and that was a long time -ago: _A Private of the Highland Light Infantry_. - - -No Hesitation - -Two of our R.A.M.C. men were bringing in a badly wounded trooper on -a stretcher, when a fiendish fire was opened on them by a party of -Germans posted on a hill about a mile off. Both of the bearers were -hit, and though they strove manfully to keep up they collapsed from -loss of blood, and the wounded man toppled over with them. A score of -our men rushed out to their assistance, but some of them were shot -down before they reached the stretcher. Four reached the stretcher and -brought it in safely under a hellish fire. All the rest of the wounded -were got in safely: _Private H. Sykes_. - - -Glorious Examples - -One fellow had been shot in the forehead: he had been in the trenches, -full of water, for six days and seven nights, and yet he said to me, -“I don’t care what becomes of me. I have the satisfaction of knowing -that I popped four of the Germans off before I got hit.” I made a few -of them some cigarettes, and gave them water to drink, and did my best -to make them comfortable. You would be surprised at the gratitude -which they expressed to me. These men are glorious examples of -self-sacrifice. There is no distinction of persons with the wounded out -here: _Motor-driver T. Robinson, of Brighton_. - - -A Kindly German - -After Soissons, I was lying on the field badly wounded. Near by was a -young fellow of the Northamptonshire Regiment. Standing over him was -a German infantryman holding a water-bottle to his lips and trying to -soothe him. The wounded man was delirious, and kept calling, “Mother -are you there?” all the time. The German seemed to understand, for he -passed his hand gently over the feverish brow and caressed the poor lad -as tenderly as any woman might have done. Death came at last, and as -the soul of the wounded man passed to its last account I saw the German -trying to hide his tears: _Corpl. Houston, Seaforth Highlanders_. - - -Driven Out! - -The burning of the poor villagers’ houses was bad enough to see, but -the sight of the poor women and children fleeing before the Germans -would break a man’s heart. The poor people did not know what to do -or where to go. Some of them came to us asking questions, but we, of -course, could do nothing, for we did not understand their language and -did not know what they were saying. They were in a bad way, and the -sight of some of them and their misery brought the tears to the eyes of -many of the men of my regiment: _Pte. Rossiter, Royal Irish Rifles_. - - -Cried Like Babies - -The other day I stopped to assist a young lad of the West Kents who had -been badly hit by a piece of shell. He hadn’t long to live, and he knew -it, too. I asked him if there was any message I could take to someone -at home. The poor lad’s eyes filled with tears as he answered, “I ran -away from home and ’listed a year ago. Mother and dad don’t know I’m -here, but you tell them from me I’m not sorry I did it.” When I told -our boys afterwards about that they cried like babies, but, mind you, -that is the spirit that is going to pull England through this war, and -there isn’t a man of us that doesn’t think of that poor boy and his -example every time we go into a fight: _Corporal Sam Haslett_. - - -The “Kiddies” - -The worst part, to my mind, was to see the plight of the poor women -and children. English people at home cannot realize what these poor -creatures suffered. We used to meet them on the road utterly worn out -with walking and carrying their babies and the few small things that -they had. They wept with joy on seeing us. It seemed grand to be a -soldier. No matter how tired we were, it was almost a free fight as to -who carried the “kiddy” and the bundle, and there was always a tin or -two of our “bully” to spare. We made them spare it if there wasn’t: _A -Private of the Lancashire Regiment_. - - -Finely Done - -When we were waiting for the order to go in I saw a cavalry sergeant -who had been badly wounded three times and was still pegging away at -it. As he was fighting I saw him go to a badly wounded corporal who was -shouting to be taken out of the way of the line. The wounded sergeant -bound up the other man’s wound, and then sat him on his own horse and -sent him back out of the way. Then I saw the sergeant limp along on -foot as best he could after his regiment to fight again. I don’t know -what became of him, but I know I shall never see a finer thing as long -as I live: _A Wounded Hussar_. - - -What McCabe Did - -McCabe helped me to dress my knee wound under a hail of shells and -bullets. I had been lying there for half an hour when Mac came along. -“Hullo,” he said, “what’s up?” “Rip up my trousers,” I cried, “and help -me to bind my knee.” While we were getting on with the job the shells -started to pepper about. I said, “Clear out, Mac, you’ll get hit.” He -said, “After I’ve finished with you.” He then went after the ambulance -men, but it was like looking for a bushel of gold. He did not return. -I then made up my mind to crawl to safety, so I discarded my rifle and -equipment, and with another fellow crawled about 600 yards back through -a swede field: _Corporal Erler_. - - -Taking the Salute - -A troop train with a thousand Belgian soldiers came in. They looked -terribly dirty, but awfully earnest. They seemed delighted to meet an -Englishman, and always wanted to shake hands. I reckon I shook hands -with a couple of hundred of them. When they saw an English officer they -jumped to the salute. As they passed a major of one of the Scottish -regiments who was lying on a stretcher, having been shot in the chest -twice, and also other parts, they saluted him, too. The major, although -he was very weak, cried to his orderly, “Hold me up. I can’t take a -salute lying down.” His orderly told him he was too ill to move, but he -persisted, and he was propped up, and acknowledged the salutes, with -hardly sufficient strength to hold his hand to his forehead. It was a -pathetic sight: _Anonymous_. - - -A Brave Sergeant - -We were in a very hot attack in defending a bridge. The Germans poured -a very destructive fire into us; we were forced to give way, and had to -retire across the bridge. There was practically no shelter, and during -our retirement one of our officers was severely wounded. He would -undoubtedly have fallen into the hands of the enemy but for the extreme -bravery of Sergeant Cropp, who, perceiving the situation, gallantly -ventured on to the bridge and, seizing the wounded lieutenant, placed -him on his back. Instead of risking a journey across the shot-swept -bridge, he decided, encumbered as he was, to swim the canal, which he -did, and swam with the wounded officer out of the line of fire and into -a place of safety: _A Scots Fusilier_. - - -Officer and Gentleman - -About three in the afternoon, just as our artillery had got up ready -to cover us, the Germans found our range with artillery, and down came -the “coal-boxes.” Near me was lying our brave captain mortally wounded, -and as the shells burst he would occasionally open his eyes and call -out--but ’twas very weak--“Stick it, Welsh, stick it.” Many of the -wounded managed to crawl up and down the firing line “dishing out” -ammunition we were unable to use, so our brave lads stuck at it until -our artillery got into action and put “paid” to the enemy’s account. -We had won! The “contemptible little army,” are we? We made them eat -their words. Out in that field were strewn thousands of German dead and -wounded. They even piled them up and made barricades of their dead. -Toward dusk, though we were still exposed to terrible shell fire, -several of our lads volunteered to collect the wounded. Many got hit -in doing so. Captain Haggard died that evening, his last words being, -“Stick it, Welsh!” He died as he had lived--an officer and a gentleman: -_Pte. C. Derry, Welsh Regiment_. - - -The Spirit of Old - -There is absolutely no doubt that our men are still animated by the -spirit of old. I came on a couple of men of the Argyll and Sutherland -Highlanders who had been cut off at Mons. One was badly wounded, but -his companion had stuck by him all the time in a country swarming -with Germans, and though they had only a few biscuits between them -they managed to pull through until we picked them up. I pressed the -unwounded man to tell me how they managed to get through the four days -on six biscuits, but he always got angry and told me to shut up. I -fancy he went without anything, and gave the biscuits to the wounded -man. They were offered shelter many times by the French peasants, but -they were so afraid of bringing trouble on these kind folk that they -would never accept shelter. One night they lay out in the open all -through a heavy downpour, though there was a house at hand where they -could have had shelter. Uhlans were on the prowl, and they would not -think of compromising the French people, who would have been glad to -help them: _Lance-Corpl. Edmondson, Royal Irish Regiment_. - - -“Hallelujah!” - -We had been lying in the trenches firing for all we were worth. On my -right, shoulder to shoulder, were two Salvationists. I remembered them -as having held a meeting with some of us chaps about a week before. As -we lay there with the bullets whistling round us these two were the -coolest of the whole cool lot! After we had been fighting some time we -had orders to fall back, and as we were getting away from the trenches -one of the Salvationists was hit and fell. His chum didn’t miss him -until we had gone several hundred yards, and then he says, “Where’s -----?” calling him by name. “I must go back and fetch him!” and off -he hurried, braving the hail of shot and shell. I admired his bravery -so much that I offered to go with him, but he said, “No, the Lord -will protect me; I’ll manage it.” So I threw myself on the ground and -waited. I saw him creep along for some yards, then run to cover; creep -along, and take shelter again; and, finally, having found his chum, he -picked him up and made a dash for safety! How the bullets fell around -him! Into the shelter of some trees he went; out again, and in once -more; and when he did get into the last piece of clearing I couldn’t -wait any longer, so I rushed forward to help him. Then I got hit. What -do you think the brave fellow did? He just put his other arm around me -and carried us both off. Darkness was fast coming on, and presently -he laid us both down and found the wounds, which he bandaged up with -strips which he tore from his shirt. I shall never forget that terrible -night: _An Anonymous Private_. - - -“A Rare Good One” - -Near our trenches there were a lot of wounded, and their cries for -water were pitiful. In the trenches was a quiet chap of the Engineers, -who could stand it no longer. He collected all the water-bottles he -could lay hold of, and said he was going out. The air was thick with -shell and rifle fire, and to show yourself at all was to sign your -death-warrant. That chap knew it as well as we did, but that was not -going to stop him. He got to the first man all right, and gave him a -swig from a bottle. No sooner did he show himself than the Germans -opened fire. After attending to the first man he crawled along the -ground to others until he was about a quarter of a mile away from us. -Then he stood up and zigzagged towards another batch of wounded, but -that was the end of him. The German fire got hotter and hotter. He was -hit badly, and with just a slight upward fling of his arms he dropped -to earth like the hero he was. Later he was picked up with the wounded, -but he was as dead as they make them out there. The wounded men, for -whose sake he had risked and lost his life, thought a lot of him, and -were greatly cut up at his death. One of them, who was hit so hard that -he would never see another Sunday, said to me as we passed the Engineer -chap, who lay with a smile on his white face, and had more bullets in -him than would set a battalion of sharpshooters up in business for -themselves, “He was a rare good one, he was. It’s something worth -living for to have seen a deed like that, and now that I have seen it -I don’t care what becomes of me.” That’s what we all felt about it: _A -Corporal of the Bedfordshire Regiment_. - - - - -XVII. THE MAN AMID WAR - - _War, that mad game the world so loves to play._ - - SWIFT’S “Ode to Sir William Temple.” - - _The combat deepens. On, ye brave, - Who rush to glory or the grave._ - - CAMPBELL’S “Hohenlinden.” - - _But there is neither East nor West, border, nor breed nor birth, - When two strong men stand face to face, tho’ they come from the - ends of the earth!_ - - KIPLING’S “Ballad of East and West.” - - -Everybody is brave out here, but we all pass the biscuit on to the -flying-men. If ever men won a V.C. they have: _An Infantry Private_. - - -“All’s Well” - -It’s all “Vive l’Anglais” where we go. The villagers look on us as -their saviours. We all feel very cheerful and all have the one idea -that we must win, so as long as we are not downhearted. “All’s well” -will be the cry: _An Unnamed Private_. - - -The Beginning - -You have a sort of want-to-go-home-to-your-mother feeling at the start, -but that soon goes when you get into your stride. When your pal gets -wiped out at your side you feel anxious to get your own back: _Private -W. A. Cast_. - - -Holed! - -My hat has six holes punctured by shrapnel. One shot carried half of -the badge away, another caught the wire rim and doubled it up like a -hat-pin to five inches. I have had up to a sovereign offered for it, -but I am sticking to it, you bet: _Pte. Cawley, 3rd Coldstream Guards_. - - -Jammy! - -Now about this jam. If you get a big pot you’ll carry it along, and -like as not get it smashed. Then your whole kit’s muckered up. Likewise -if you get it in a tin you’ll open it and take what you want, but -you’ll have no lid to put on, so you’ll leave the rest behind: _Pte. -Moss, of the Hussars_. - - -Next for Shaving - -One daring thing I saw on the Aisne was done by a man of the Buffs. He -was surprised by the Germans, and the only weapon he had to meet the -attack of one who came at him with a rifle was a half-brick. He let fly -with it, and caught the “sausage” on the head, bowling him clean over. -Then he picked up his rifle and coolly took his position, calling out, -“Next for shaving”: _Pte. G. Barton, Royal Engineers_. - - -A Strange Meeting - -A few years ago I was a delegate for the I.L.P. at the International -Socialist Congress at Stuttgart, and stayed at the house of a German, -Hans Woesschhoeft by name. After the battle of the Marne I was with a -force pursuing the Germans, and one day engaged in bayonet fighting -a German cavalryman. Looking at him closer, I recognized my host of -happier days. He recognized me, and we had not the heart to fight -further. He saved the situation by surrendering: _Corpl. Hayhurst, -Shropshire Light Infantry_. - - -“All We Want” - -We are still getting on in the pink of health, and have all we want. My -chum, ----, wishes to be remembered to you; he says he doesn’t want to -come back again to England. We are amongst some of the finest people -I have ever met, and they will give us anything we want. We can get -plenty of tobacco here, so will you please send me a pipe? I shall -get it some time. Well, dear, I can’t say more now, so will wish you -good-bye for the present. Tell the missis I wish to be remembered to -her. I will close with heaps of love: _A Sergeant of the 3rd Hussars_. - - -Dare-Devils - -The army is full of dare-devils who are never happy unless they are -risking their lives in some extravagant way. Two men of the Leinster -Regiment had an argument about each other’s running powers. To settle -the dispute they had a hundred yards sprint outside the trenches under -German fire all the time. Both had some narrow escapes, but got through -without a scratch. They wanted to do it over again, but an officer -stopped them: _Pte. R. Collier, Sherwood Foresters_. - - -An Evil Eye! - -You can see that the German hates you by the evil look in his eye. It -isn’t safe to go near him unless you have a bayonet in your hand. I -was trying to do something for one wounded German, and the next thing -I saw was his mate from behind him coming for me with a bayonet. He -was wounded, too, but he thought he was going to get a stick at me. -But I stuck first, and he did not want more than one, I can tell you. -You have got some funny jobs to do in fighting: _A Private of the -Coldstream Guards_. - - -Signed the Pledge! - -Wine is offered us instead of water by the French people, but we are -refusing it. Some of the hardest drinkers in the regiment have signed -the pledge for the war. Some of the French tell of miraculous escapes. -One man was holding a glass of water to a wounded comrade when a bullet -shattered the glass. In another case a man came out of action with two -bullets in his pocket. One had travelled through a neighbour’s body -before being spent, and the other had struck a cigarette-case and had -been deflected: _A Private of Withington_. - - -The Balm of Baccy - -We are issued tobacco, but those who haven’t pipes find it difficult -to get a smoke, as cigarette-papers are very scarce. As much as five -francs has been offered for a 1d. packet. Thank goodness I have a pipe. -It is really marvellous the amount of comfort and enjoyment one derives -from a smoke. During the cold nights, when unable to sleep through -being on some duty, sitting round the old camp fire thinking, the old -pipe of ’bacca has a very soothing effect. There is something missing -when one is without it: _Sergt. Ibbitson, Cyclist Company_. - - -His Spare Time - -In the haste of the retreat the Germans abandoned and we picked up -bicycles, gramophones, concertinas, accordions, civilian clothes, -and provisions of all kinds, and what not. There were a lot of dead -Germans behind them. One officer was sitting quite natural, with his -head resting on his hands. Another chap had apparently been a bit of a -carver, for he had just finished carving a doll’s house, with furniture -complete. He had evidently been doing it in his spare time under fire: -_Pte. Trobe, Royal Artillery_. - - -Wet, But Exciting - -I have a month’s growth of whiskers, and I look horrid. We are all the -same. I have not had a chance of a wash for a week. The last wash I -had was after twenty-four chaps had washed in one bucket. At the time -of writing I am soaking wet, and am waiting for the sun to dry me. We -are all ready for anything. We have lost thirty of our men. Thank God, -I am spared, but I am ready to die for the old country. I have been -soaking wet for a week, but we are on the move--too exciting to notice -anything: _Pte. T. Percy, Army Veterinary Corps_. - - -“Nearer, my God, to Thee” - -It was raining like blazes and a cold, wretched night. We all knew we -were going into action in the morning, and we stood together while -shelter was found for us. Suddenly somebody started to sing “Nearer, my -God, to Thee,” and the whole battalion took it up, and we sang it right -through. Next we had the “Glory Song,” and it was impressive. We went -into action the next day, and on the following night twenty-five or -thirty of our men who had sung those hymns were buried, and an officer -who read the service was in tears: _Pte. Baker, Coldstream Guards_. - - -Happy all the Day - -It’s a fine sight to see us on the march, swinging along the roads as -happy as schoolboys and singing all the old songs we can think of. The -tunes are sometimes a bit out, but nobody minds so long as we’re happy. -As we pass through the villages the French come out to cheer us and -bring us food and fruit. Cigarettes we get more of than we know what -to do with. Some of them are rotten, so we save them for the German -prisoners, who would smoke anything they can lay hands on. Flowers also -we get plenty of, and we are having the time of our lives: _Corporal J. -Bailey_. - - -“Supreme Beings” - -The roads are simply cruel. But the worst is we cannot get a decent -smoke. I am in the best of health, what with the feeding and the -open-air life, the stars being our covering for the last few weeks. We -have seen some of the most lovely country imaginable. Some of the hills -were four miles long, with about eight S-bends in them. The people over -here go half mad when we go through the villages and towns. They throw -fruit and flowers at us, give us wine, and goodness knows what. If we -happen to stop they run out to shake hands and hang round us as if we -were supreme beings: _Driver L. Finch_. - - -“Who Goes There?” - -I was posted on guard, and after about an hour I began to feel sleepy, -so I went to stand beside a wagon, when suddenly I heard a noise. Then -I shouted, “Halt! who goes there?” But there was no reply. Again I -shouted. Still there was no response. Then I saw a figure move about -five yards away from me, but as it was so very dark I could not tell -whether it was one of our own men or not, so I shouted for the last -time, and as there was no reply I fired. The guard turned out and ran -to the place, bringing back the victim, shot through the shoulder. He -was a German spy: _Driver Renniberg, Army Service Corps_. - - -“Mum’s the Word” - -Wish I could describe all I have seen to you; but have not the time, -for one thing, and not allowed to give anything of importance in our -letters, of course. The French are fine, generous people. Have seen -and conversed as well as possible with their wounded, as we have -passed some quantity on our way in trains, and German prisoners with -them. From what I have seen of them so far, especially those returning -from the front, they are fine fellows. Taking them all round, I -believe they are bigger than our fellows. The Germans appear similar -to ours, although I could only see them by lantern light for a few -seconds as they were lying down in railway goods wagons--they may have -been wounded. The French appear to be treating them well. This is a -beautiful country--rather flat what I have seen, but well-cultivated -soil similar to round Cambridge: _Private H. J. Charity_. - - -The Impossible Order - -We enjoy the hard life all right because it’s full up with excitement, -and we are doing our little bit towards squaring off that big account -with the Germans. They’re not doing the fine things they promised -to do, and it must make them sick to think of their failure to wipe -out our army, for you can take it from me that they had their orders -direct from the Kaiser that the British force was to be punished at -any cost for daring to come over here without his orders. There’s been -punishment enough, God knows, but it hasn’t all been on the one side. -There’s many a German could tell of being punished for all he was -worth, and they won’t be in a hurry to deal out punishment to us again: -_Private E. Wood_. - - -The Valiant Spirit - -After marching and fighting nearly every day we are all feeling like -veterans now, and we are ready to keep the ball rolling for just as -long as it takes to give the Kaiser’s lads a lesson in soldiering -that is likely to be remembered in their precious Fatherland so long -as there are Germans alive. We are not kidding ourselves about what -we have before us, but we are bracing ourselves for it, and we will -certainly put our best foot forward and get our backs into the work -as you would expect British soldiers to do. This is going to be the -biggest thing we’ve ever taken on, and there’ll be many an English home -in mourning before it’s through; but you simply must make up your minds -to face it as bravely as we are facing it, because that’s the only way -to win, and we’re out to win at any price. We can’t and we won’t allow -the Germans to get the best of us in this fight, and they will have to -trample on our dead bodies first before they get a chance of trampling -on our flag, as they say they will. The dead won’t all be Britons, and -we have no doubt about who’s going to win, if it takes us a century to -do it: _Private S. Hobson_. - - -Spared! - -In the hospital there were twenty wounded, including three Germans, -in charge of an English doctor. After our troops had retired to their -base, some distance in the rear, the hospital was raided by a party of -fifty Germans. They were all more or less under the influence of drink, -and they demanded that we should tell them where our regiment was. Not -one of us would give the game away, and they thereupon said they would -shoot us all. They commenced flourishing their revolvers and shouting, -and I can tell you that I began to shake. I was really afraid then, and -I thought our numbers were up. But the unexpected happened. The three -wounded Germans implored their comrades to spare us, pointing out that -they had been most kindly treated by the English doctor: _A Private of -the Hussars_. - - -Jolly Boys are We! - -I am sitting on the grass in a huge encampment of some thousands of men -who, despite all kinds of adverse circumstances, are still as jolly as -the proverbial skylark. It is quite remarkable to see the philosophical -way in which Tommy takes everything. Here is a little example which -may, perhaps, be amusing to some of the Merrie Villagers next Sunday. -A huge field, inches thick in mud, nice clay soil, which hangs on to -you like grim death; wet shirts, due to a steady downpour all night; -no tea for breakfast, owing to the rain having put all fires out; and -the troops sitting as best they can on their waterproof sheets on wet -earth, doing what? Why, singing, at the top of their voices, “It’s a -long, long way to Tipperary!”: _Bombdr. Barron, of Finsbury Park_. - - -The “Born Grousers” - -Just now we suffer more from the plague of spies than we did from -flies in South Africa. “Kill that spy” is a cry as necessary as “Kill -that fly” at home. Scarcely a day passes without the arrest of Germans -or Austrians engaged in their low trade. They get short shrift. A chap -can’t be sorry for them; they are such dirty dogs. They are going about -circulating lies of all kinds. One of their yarns is to tell of whole -regiments wiped out. Sometimes it is a French regiment and sometimes a -British one. One of the kidney tried it on in a café here to-night. He -made free with the name of a regiment actually quartered here. When we -had done with him he had practical proof that this scurvy German method -of killing off your enemies is only satisfactory so long as you can -avoid a meeting with the “killed and wounded.” We are all comfortable -here, and there is no shortage of any kind, so if you hear from the -born “grousers” of hardships don’t believe them: _Corporal G. Robbins_. - - -Well Tended - -I was about the last man that got hit, and I got a proper one too. An -explosive bullet got me behind the knee, and blew away my knee and -part of thigh and shin. I lay there for a time in the forest with no -one but the Germans, who were not at all unkind to me; they gave me -water and wine to drink, and two of their Red Cross bandaged my leg up -temporarily until the ambulance came along about ten hours later. Well, -dad, if I ever prayed I prayed during that time; I was in sheer agony -the whole time. Eventually the ambulance came along and brought me back -(a prisoner, of course) to a Roman Catholic chapel, which was converted -into a temporary hospital, and I lay there till I was brought out to a -château, where two German doctors amputated my leg. They did their best -for me, but in a rough way. I was there for about ten days with hardly -any food, as they hadn’t it for themselves, only dry bread and black -coffee. Our own people released us, and took all the Germans who were -there prisoners: _Sergt. O’Dwyer, Irish Guards_. - - -“Archibald” a Drawback - -The Germans have a topsides gun we call “Archibald.” He shoots -extraordinarily well on some days and damn badly on others. They always -get our height correct, but so far have brought nobody down. Several -machines have been hit by his shrapnel bullets and bits of his shell. -He also flies a sort of parachute which he uses to range on. The other -day we pulled his leg properly by getting between him and a bright -sun so that he could not see us properly. He sent up his parachute, -height exactly correct, fuse well timed, and proceeded to pepper it -no end, all about half a mile away from us. Once I heard his beastly -shells whistling above the noise of the engine when we came out of the -clouds, so he must have been jolly near. He has a twin brother named -“Cuthbert,” who is a large howitzer. His first shot is good, but the -remainder always miles behind. “Archibald” certainly is a drawback, -as one has to be rather careful to circumvent him, as the blighter’s -shooting has improved wonderfully: _An Army Airman_. - - -“Here Comes the Last” - -It is amusing to hear some soldiers speak when they come down the -line, and it is becoming quite a joke to say, “Here comes the last -of such-and-such a regiment,” for invariably they claim to be the -last--all the others are cut up. It is no doubt the case that some -battalions have been severely handled. I met one of the Dorsets--but -here hangs a tale. You will know the old bookshop in Churchwallgate. -On the day I left Macclesfield I called in to wish the bookseller -good-bye. It was mentioned incidentally that he had a relative who had -been called up; I had met him on one occasion, and would I be likely -to see him again? Of course this was highly improbable, but I did -meet him. After we had retired from ---- I jumped up on a truck-load -of biscuits along with others, and said not a word, being too busy -admiring the magnificent beauty of the country in this district. At -last we talked of things in general, of the inferior rifle-shooting -of the Germans, but with respect of his shrapnel, and I mentioned -Macclesfield, hoping to be back at Christmas. A man of the Dorsets -cocked his ears. “Macclesfield! Put it there, Corporal,” he said, -holding out his hand. “Put it there. I have been weighing you up for -the last ten minutes, wondering where I had seen you before. Now I -know.” This was the man whom I never expected to see, and we met under -difficult conditions on a truck racing hell for leather through a -country which a few days later was the grave of many a German soldier: -_Pte. Dickenson, Army Service Corps_. - - -Saved by a Curé - -A smart young corporal accompanied me to reconnoitre, and we went too -far ahead, and were cut off in a part of the country thick with Uhlans. -As we rode in the direction of ---- two wounded men were limping -along, both with legs damaged, one from the Middlesex and the other -Lancashire Fusiliers, and so we took them up. The men were hungry and -tattered to shreds with fighting, but in fine spirits. We soon came -across a small village, and I found the curé a grand sportsman and full -of pluck and hospitality. He seemed charmed to find a friend who was -English, and told me that the Germans were dressed in the uniforms of -British soldiers, which they took from the dead and from prisoners in -order to deceive French villagers, who in many places in that district -had welcomed these wolves in sheep’s clothing. We were warned that -the enemy would be sure to track us up to the village. The curé said -he could hide the two wounded men in the crypt of his church, and -put up beds for them. It has a secret trapdoor, and was an ancient -treasure-house of a feudal lord, whose castle we saw in ruins at the -top of the hill close by. Then he hid away our saddlery and uniforms -in the roof of a barn, and insisted upon our making a rest-chamber of -the tower of his church, which was approached by a ladder, which we -were to pull up to the belfry as soon as we got there. He smuggled in -wine and meat and bread and cakes, fruit and cigarettes, with plenty -of bedding pulled up by a rope. We slept soundly, and the owls seemed -the only other tenants, who resented our intrusion. No troops passed -through the village that night. In the morning the curé came round at -six o’clock, and we heard him say Mass. After that we let down the -ladder, and he came up with delicious hot chocolate and a basket of -rolls and butter. Our horses he had placed in different stables a mile -apart, and put French “fittings” on them, so as to deceive the enemy: -_A Non-Commissioned Officer in the Dragoons_. - - -After the Battle - -We, whose work commences only after the battle, have learned to know -things that baffle description. Waiting all day long in more or less -sheltered positions is sad enough: with the noise of rifle fire and the -roaring of the guns we cannot but constantly think of the poor fellows -who are being hit. The din of the battle grows less, the night draws -on, the moment has now come for us to do our task. With acetylene lamps -to light us, we cross the battlefield in all directions and pick up -the wounded. As to the dead, alas! how numerous they are! We find them -petrified in their last attitude in their last _élan_. And the crying -and moaning of the wounded scattered in the cornfields and among the -damp meadows! I know of nothing more poignant than that. The bullets -nearly always go right through; wounds in the chest or in the abdomen -are almost certainly mortal. Fortunately, such wounds are comparatively -few in number. German shells are more noisy than efficient, and their -splinters generally only cause small wounds. I must add that the -bullets of our rifles are as deadly as those of the Germans, while our -shells are far more dangerous than theirs. The poor devils who are hit -by them are to be pitied. A good many Germans allow themselves to be -made prisoners; they know we will treat them humanely: _A Member of the -Ambulance Corps_. - - - - -XVIII. THE COMMON TASK - - _The land we from our fathers had in trust, - And to our children will transmit or die: - This is our maxim, this our piety; - And God and nature say that it is just. - That which we would perform in arms--we must!_ - - WORDSWORTH’S “Motherland.” - - _Glory we count of lesser worth - Than wife and babe and hearth and home; - Theirs is the mandate speeding forth - Our steps of thunder on the foam; - For them we fight, for them we stand, - Yea, and for faith ’twixt land and land._ - - WILLIAM WATSON’S “Ten Men Forsworn.” - - -Give my love to Patrick-street, Waterford, for that is where the best -girl on earth lives, and tell Ireland that we’re doing our duty and -that Thomas Moran will have another go at the Germans directly the -doctor permits: _Pte. T. Moran, East Lancashire Regiment_. - - -Busy! - -We have had no time for anything, for when we have a minute to spare I -have to give my clothes a scrub, and they don’t half get in a state. -I have only got one pair of socks, and I have to wait while they dry -before I can wear them: _Pte. Chapman, 3rd Hussars_. - - -“Really Good” - -I am well, and just about having the time of my life. It’s really good -always being on the move, seeing fresh sights every day; and if there -should be a few Germans on the move--why, it only increases the fun, -and throws a little more excitement into the work: _Corpl. R. Carton, -Royal Field Artillery_. - - -A Great Time! - -We are having good sport out here. I have got as good a heart now as I -had when I left home. I tell you there is nothing better than having -a few shells and bullets buzzing round you as long as you don’t stop -one. We are having some fine feeds out here--ducks, chickens, rabbits, -and bags of fruit: _Trooper G. W. Maddocks, 5th Cavalry Brigade_. - - -In Mourning - -Every now and again our vans go out to aid in collecting and dealing -with the poor fellows who are wounded. The dead, of course, are beyond -earthly aid, but the chaplain reads some prayers as the bodies are -interred. Burials take place at all sorts of queer places--by the -roadside, in farmyards, etc. It is awful to see the devastation which -has been wrought: _Pte. Coombe, Army Medical Corps_. - - -Consolations - -Except for a bad cold and having lost all my belongings, I am none the -worse. The thing I am sorry about is that it all happened so soon and -sudden, and I hardly had time to look round. But I am ready for the -next “Day excursion to Berlin.” I have one consolation, and that is I -killed two Uhlans and wounded one before they captured me: _A Trooper -of the Dragoon Guards_. - - -All Smiles! - -Much amusement was caused during yesterday afternoon by some remarkable -legends chalked up on some transport wagons passing through. Such -sentences as “This way to Berlin!” “Kaiser killers,” “Kaiser’s coffin,” -“Vive la France!” and sundry other information marked up in chalk by -the dusty, but jovial travellers, caused people to stop and smile: -_Lance-Corpl. F. E. Hunt, Duke of Cornwall’s Light Infantry_. - - -The Pot Boiling - -I am very well; plenty to eat, and tobacco. We are in action in a -wood, guns nicely under cover, and we shall be, too, shortly, for it -is getting dark. We have made snug little shelters for ourselves, and -are quite “comfy.” The pot is on the fire, and it won’t be long before -we have a good feed. I hope to be home for Christmas dinner, so have a -good spread: _Bombdr. Earp, Royal Artillery_. - - -The Old Horse - -I came down to the rest camp with others to get a fresh horse. My -old horse was shot under me. I was sorry, too, for he was a splendid -animal, and it is solely due to him that I am alive to write this -letter. We had to make a run for it, and I can tell you that those with -slow horses did not get far. Things are going very well indeed with us -now, although they are about five, and in some cases twenty, to one. -But we can generally manage to thrash them: _Corpl. R. Greenwood, 18th -Hussars_. - - -No More Collecting - -I have given up collecting pieces of shells for souvenirs, having -found myself a veritable Krupp’s scrap heap. Spies seem to be the -chief excitement here, and the old motto has been altered to read, -“Catch that spy!” Two days ago a haystack was found in the interior of -which was a complete telegraph office working by underground cable to -the German lines, and thus the Germans were kept acquainted with our -movements and the disposition of our artillery: _A Telegraphist, 1st -Army Headquarters_. - - -Worthy of Tom Brown - -Another chap tried to get some bread at a farm. After he had made all -sorts of queer signs the woman seemed to understand, and said, “Oui, -oui, M’sieur,” rushed back into the house and brought back a bundle -of hay! There was a terrific roar of laughter from the troops. The -nonplussed look on the woman’s face and the “fed-up” expression on -the chap’s made a picture worthy of the pencil of poor old Tom Brown: -_Bombdr. E. Cressy, Royal Field Artillery_. - - -Wonderfully Popular - -The troops are wonderfully popular, and I think a lot of it is due -to their kindliness to the kiddies and animals, and also to their -unbounded enthusiasm and good spirits. There’s no grousing, and there -is nothing but what fun is made of. No one has seen the soldier at his -best unless he has seen him here. Grimy, unshaved, his khaki full of -grease marks, and tired out, yet full of life and fun, his sole luxury -a good wash--grub, sleep, everything goes to blazes if there’s water -to be had for a wash, but, good Lord, you should see our towels: _A -Sergeant of the Army Service Corps_. - - -Messing Together - -Every day we receive jam, bacon or ham, bread, tinned meat (commonly -known as bully-beef), biscuits, and cheese. We do not get a lot, but -enough to keep us in trim and free from want. We also get plenty of -dry tea and sugar. It is quite amusing at first to see the lads making -their tea, a thing they are doing all day long. On this game the boys -generally get together in groups of sixes, draw their rations in bulk, -and mess together. You ought to see their cooking utensils. They use -water-cans, pails, in fact, anything that holds a decent amount of -water: _Sergt. Clark, Duke of Cornwall’s Light Infantry_. - - -“Merry and Bright” - -I see you are all excited about getting us plenty of socks, but Heaven -only knows when we shall get a chance to wear them. I haven’t been out -of my boots for a fortnight. It would be much more to the point if you -were to send us men to give the Germans “socks.” “Merry and bright” -is still our motto. Don’t get downhearted, no matter what you hear at -home. Some of these days things will come all right. Keep your eyes -wide open, and you will have a big surprise sooner than you think. -We’re all right, and the Germans will find that out sooner than you at -home: _Private J. Willis_. - - -Next, Please! - -I have never seen our lads so cheery as they are under great trials. -You couldn’t help being proud of them if you saw them lying in the -trenches cracking jokes or smoking while they take pot-shots at the -Germans.... We have very little spare time now, but what we have we -pass by smoking concerts, sing-songs, and story-telling. Sometimes we -have football for a change, with a German helmet for a ball, and to -pass the time in the trenches have invented the game of guessing where -the next German shell will drop. Sometimes we have bets on it, and -the man who guesses correctly the greatest number of times takes the -stakes: _Sapper Bradle_. - - -That “Interest” - -We are at present living in a school, and it seems funny to see so -many soldiers’ beds on the floor. Our bedding (don’t laugh) is one -waterproof sheet and our coat for a blanket; and still we are all as -happy as sand-boys. We have been here some time now enjoying a rest, -and at the same time getting fitted out again for the front. As you -can imagine by reading the papers, nearly everything we had--horses, -carts, wagons, cookers, and Maxims--were all blown in the air by German -shells, but I am thankful to say we have got over all that, and shan’t -forget to pay out Johnnie German with interest the first time we have -the luck to meet him again, which we all hope won’t be long, as the -sooner they are crushed the sooner we will get home again: _A Private -of Keith, N.B._ - - -Sad and Glad - -I am having a very interesting but a jolly hard time. About fourteen -days ago I was chased four miles by German Lancers. They were on -horses, and I was on my machine. The road was so bad they nearly had -me, but I stuck to it and got away. It has been raining “cats and dogs” -the last three days, and I am wet through, but happy and contented and -very well. I shall have loads to tell you when I get home--tales, I -fear, of pain, rapine, suffering, and all the horrors of a great war; -but all the same I have some funny experiences to relate as well: -_Special Dispatch-Rider A. R. Gurney_. - - -Unexpected! - -On the Marne we spent two days on a long mine out towards the German -lines, and just when we were getting to the close of our job we heard -pickaxes going as fast and as hard as you like, and then the wall of -clay before us gave way, showing a party of Germans at the same game! -You never saw men more astonished in your life. “Fancy meeting you,” -was written all over their faces, and they hadn’t quite recovered from -their shock when we pounced on them. We had a pretty sharp scrap down -there indeed, but we got the best of it, though we had four of our -chaps laid out. One German devil was just caught in time with a fuse -which he was going to apply with the mad idea of blowing us all up! -_Sapper T. Gilhooly, Royal Engineers_. - - -Tempting Grapes - -In the last fight we were posted near to a wall over which hung the -most tempting grapes you ever set eyes on. When you’ve lain for nearly -a day in a hot sun without bite or sup, grapes seem more tempting -than ever. Though the Germans seemed to concentrate their whole fire -on the corner where those grapes were, most of us couldn’t resist the -temptation and risk of stealing out to get them. What you had to do was -to crawl along the top of the trenches like a big snail, and then, when -you got there, make a big spring up and catch what you could before the -German shots caught you. We weren’t always successful, and there’s many -a lad of ours owes his life or his wounds to touching that forbidden -fruit: _An Irish Guardsman_. - - -“Our Menu!” - -We were on a convoy of ammunition and food, and had to go about 150 -miles. We had got seventy odd miles, when we were sighted by Uhlans. -There were about 100 of them, and fifty of our men, and we got in a -very bad position, but we got out with the loss of a few drivers, and -we never lost any of our convoy. This is our menu: Monday: breakfast, -eggs; dinner, roast beef; tea, cake; supper, fish. Tuesday: breakfast, -eggs; dinner, roast beef; tea, cake; supper, eels. Wednesday: -breakfast, steak; dinner, rabbit; tea, biscuits; supper, eels. -Thursday: breakfast, liver; dinner, pork; tea, kippers; supper, stew. -Friday: breakfast, beef; dinner, ham; tea, jam; supper, stew. Saturday: -breakfast, bacon; dinner, rabbit; tea, ducks; supper, eggs. Sunday: -breakfast, eggs and bacon; dinner, roast beef; tea, tea. After Sunday -tea we all go to the pictures (I _don’t_ think): _Driver Ellis, Army -Service Corps_. - - -Trust Thomas! - -We were all of us hungry yesterday. To-day I have been out about a mile -and have returned with some carrots, onions, and potatoes. These have -been peeled, cut up, and are now boiling in a pail with six tins of -corned beef added. A feed is what we contemplate, and a feed we will -have. We are all looking forward to a profound gorge, and I, for one, -have moist lips at thought of the meal within a commandeered pail! -But the bucket of stew is done! It’s fine! Excellent!! Yes! All that -because it is rare on campaigns such as this. We very seldom see a -cooked meal. It is usually bread and biscuit, tinned beef or tinned -jam, bacon or cheese. Trust Thomas Atkins to look after himself, as -you trust him to break the back of Kaiserism: _Pte. A. E. Basham, -Bedfordshire Regiment_. - - -Night Duty - -You ask me what night duty in a surgical ward on active service is -like. Well, imagine a huge square room, holding fifty beds, at present -occupied by thirty-three patients, the rest having been sent to the -base hospital for convalescents. We mount duty at 8 o’clock, and -finish at 7 A.M. next morning. Our work during the night consists of -attending to their personal wants, such as--one would like a drink of -hot milk, another cannot sleep, he is in pain--a shrapnel wound in the -thigh, and, unfortunately, he cannot turn over. So you have to look -at the dressing, see that everything is O.K., start a bit of a yarn -about anything, until he or you get fed up. Get him a drink, and, in -all probability, the next time you have a look at him he is asleep: _A -Hospital Orderly_. - - -Sea Echoes - -We get now and again odd stories of what our tars are doing, and we -were mighty pleased over that dust-up in the North Sea. We kept singing -“Boys of the Bulldog Breed” till we thought our throats would crack, -and it was taken up all along the line by our men. It’s not so risky -as you would think on the battlefield. We were under heavy fire for -two days before one of us was hit; I know other regiments had similar -experiences. You’re all right so long as you keep under cover, but -where the losses come in is when you have to retire with all those -fiendish guns blazing away at you in the open. Then you can’t help -being hit, and there’s always their cavalry to look out for, though it -isn’t of much account against men with the bayonet. They have more -than they know what to do with, and they’re always turning up where -they’re least expected: _Corporal W. Johnson_. - - -The Motor-Man - -There are two of us in charge of each motor, because the roads being -very bad our hands and wrists get awfully tired holding the wheel, and -we relieve each other. Ours is most important work, for it has been -said an army marches on its stomach--that is to say, an army is not -much use if it is hungry; therefore, if I have food wagons attached -to my motor I must be on the spot when wanted--with ammunition it is -just the same, of course. When our ammunition wagons get empty other -full ones are brought up and ours are filled. We never go back to fetch -anything; so it is the fighting line all the time. When the battle -is over--and some of them have been very long, lasting over days and -days--we get what rest and sleep we can, and have a sound meal. If we -have been fortunate enough we have had sundry naps during lulls in the -fighting, and have been able to get our food in the same manner: _A -Salvationist Motor man, Royal Field Artillery_. - - -An Interpreter - -I now coil myself up in the “O.P.” corner of the stage of the municipal -theatre. It is curious to see by the dim light of the pilot lights -forty or fifty men sleeping on the boards with their rifles stacked -between them. The curtain is up, but the auditorium is dark and empty, -for what is probably the most realistic and interesting scene that -has ever been set between its proscenium. I am surrounded by a crowd -of French people of every age and of all shapes and sizes. The fact -that I am writing a letter seems to strike them as an incident of -extraordinary interest. “Here’s one writing a letter,” they call to -their friends, and they all flock round. The people of this town press -round us when we feed, sleep, wash, dress, and, in fact, at every -moment of the day. Until we were quartered in the theatre some of the -more modest soldiers were compelled to wait till it was dark before -they could summon up sufficient courage to change their clothes. One -old lady has just come up and tested the quality of the material of my -tunic and has moved off nodding her head in approbation. Their interest -in our welfare is practical, nevertheless: _Pte. F. J. St. Aubyn, -Interpreter_. - - -A Proper Adventure - -We saw a small body of Germans, and, having nothing better to do, we -were told to go and capture them. There were thirty, and they all -gave in except one, who made a rush for it right back past our convoy. -Two of us went after him. The men on the lorries fired, but they were -afraid of hitting us. He led us through the village, and turned up a -back lane into a sort of builder’s yard. In that yard was a pit of soft -lime, and we were all running so fast that we did not see it. It looked -like sand. In he falls. I am following; in I goes; can’t stop in time; -up to our waists. This bloke makes a grab at me; we have a struggle; -we are going in further, gun and all. The other man is shouting, “Why -don’t you shoot him?” but I couldn’t. The barrel was choked with lime. -Then he spit in my face. That done it. I hit him just a tap with the -butt end of my rifle on the napper, and down he went. Meanwhile my -pal had gone for help. They fetched planks, ladders, and all sorts of -things. At last they pulled me out by sticking my head and shoulders -through the rungs. You should have seen me when I did get out--a very -pretty sight. When the women saw me they tore all the things off me and -threw pails of water over me and thoroughly dowsed me. One woman gave -me an old skirt to put on, and I marched back like that. As far as I -know, that “sausage” is there now, as he did not wake up after that tap -for luck: _An Infantry Private_. - - -“Culture” for Them - -The Germans are great on night attacks, but they soon found out that -they had to be out very early if they wanted to catch us napping. One -night we got a hint that something might be looked for, so we made -preparations to give them a very nice reception when they paid their -early morning call. Strong parties of picked shots were thrown out all -along the line towards the German trenches and their orders were to lie -in wait until the Germans came up to drive back the pickets. Just when -we were getting impatient and wanting to shout, “Hurry up! Hurry up!” -like they do in the music halls when the turns are slow at coming on, -rifles began to crack in front, and the pickets fell back more quickly -than usual. That was our chance. The Germans came on like the great -big brave chaps they are when they’re twenty to one, and we let them -come until the head of their force was level with a tree that had been -marked for range. “Now!” the officer in command whispered, and we gave -it them right where they carry their rations after dinner. We poured -another volley into them, and then went after them with the bayonets. -They beat us easily in the sprinting; besides, we had orders not to -venture too far from camp, so we came back and lay down to wait for -the next turn. They came back again, and when they got to the tree -they stopped to look around. They got the same old sauce as before, and -they were off again. The entertainment wasn’t altogether over, for half -an hour later a big body of Germans falling back from another little -surprise on our left walked right into us. We blazed right into them, -and they didn’t wait to ask what sort of culture it was that made it -possible to grow rifles in the wood at night-time: _A Lance-Corporal of -the East Yorkshire Regiment_. - - -Cooking no Joke - -I daresay you wonder how we go on about our cooking. When we were in -column we had a cook for every sub-section. Every evening, or when -we arrived at our billet, rations were drawn. A sub-section of forty -men would draw about eight to twelve pounds of cheese, nine or ten -pounds of bacon, about one and a half to two pounds of tea, two to -three pounds of sugar, and, if there was bread, about sixteen loaves, -each weighing about two pounds, or two 56 lb. boxes of biscuits, forty -tins of bully beef, or twenty-eight pounds of fresh meat. I cooked for -three weeks, and I can assure you it is no joke to be cook to forty -men and not know much about the work. I will give an idea of a day’s -work as cook. We had as a rule _réveillé_ at 3 A.M. or 4 A.M. I would -get up half an hour earlier and start the fire. The water would boil -within twenty minutes, and I put the tea and sugar in. The men would -afterwards use the fire themselves for frying. Directly breakfast was -over I filled the dixies again and kept them ready for dinner. Some of -the fellows would come in and would peel potatoes and carrots. I cut -the meat up, or, if there was no fresh meat, I opened tins of bully -beef as a substitute. I put this on the fire two or three hours before -dinner so as to ensure it being done properly. In the afternoon rations -were drawn. I had to cut them up, and it wants some judgment to cut a -small piece of bacon or cheese for forty hungry men. But it was always -done somehow. Tea was ready from four to five o’clock. Milk was got -where possible, in addition to eggs and butter. I was fed up with it -after three weeks and handed it over. It is different in the battery -I am in here. The corporal draws the rations and cuts them up. We -generally have bacon for breakfast. We fry it in our saucepan together -and soak the bread in the fat; it goes down good: _Gunner Southern, -Royal Horse Artillery_. - - -Let Down Lightly - -One night--there were about ten of us--we were surprised to find a -light in an empty farmhouse, and were still more surprised to find -sounds of revelry coming out through the window. We peeped in, and -there were about fifty Germans all over the shop, drinking, and eating, -and smoking, and generally trying to look as if they were having a -jolly old time. It was a dare-devil of an Irishman who suggested that -we ought to give the Germans a little surprise, and we were all in with -him. Doing our best to look fierce, and create the impression that we -had at least a brigade behind us, we flung open the door without any -ceremony. Our first rush was for the passage where most of the Germans -had stacked their rifles, and from there we were able to cover the -largest party in any one room. They were so taken aback that they made -very little resistance. The only chap who showed any fight at all was a -big fellow, who had good reason to fear us, for he had escaped the day -before, after being arrested as a spy. He whipped out a revolver, and -some of his chums drew swords, but we fired into them, and they threw -up their hands, after the little one had sent a revolver bullet through -my arm. We fastened them up securely, collected all the smokes and -grub they had not touched, and marched them off to the camp. There was -a nice how-d’ye-do when we got back, for the sound of firing so close -by had alarmed the whole camp, and we were called to account for our -behaviour. I think they were inclined to let us down lightly, because -of the prisoners, particularly the spy chap; but we had no business to -be out of barracks that night, and we’ll probably have some mark of -official displeasure chalked up against us: _Pte. F. Lewis, 1st South -Staffs_. - - - - -XIX. MATTERS IN GENERAL - - _Come all the world against her, - England yet shall stand._ - - A. C. SWINBURNE. - - _Vain, mightiest fleets of iron framed; - Vain, those all-shattering guns, - Unless proud England keep, untamed, - The strong heart of her sons. - So, let his name through Europe ring-- - A man of mean estate, - Who died as firm as Sparta’s king, - Because his soul was great._ - - SIR F. H. DOYLE’S “Private of the Buffs.” - - -We run a series of concerts each evening round a big camp fire, and I -am always the first to start them off. There are three French girls who -come down and sing for us, but they are not as good as you at singing: -_A Private of the A.M.C._ - - -The Kilt - -Most of the Highlanders are hit in the legs. It is because of tartan -trews and hose, which are more visible at a distance than any other -part of their dress. Bare calves also show up in sunlight: _Private P. -Barry_. - - -Proper Officers - -Our officers don’t grab the best for themselves like the German brutes. -The other night, in the wet and cold--and it was really cold--three of -our officers turned out of a snug big bedroom in a farm to make way -for four of our privates who were done up with cold and fatigue: _Pte. -Watts, Cheshire Regiment_. - - -Scented! - -Soap is unknown out here, but luck had it that I found a German -haversack the other day. It contained, amongst numerous useless things, -two sticks of shaving soap (scented). Now all the troops are chipping -me for using scented soap on active service. I don’t mind--it’s soap: -_Pte. Revis, 4th Middlesex Regiment_. - - -Bottles All the Way - -Some of the towns we passed through suggested that there had been a -battle of bottles rather than a battle of bullets. The streets were -thickly strewn with bottles, champagne bottles and bottles that had -contained the modest vin ordinaire. In those respects the Germans do -themselves well: _Bombdr. Jamieson, Royal Artillery_. - - -Brain and Muscle - -The French are fighting hard all round us with a grit and a go that -will carry them through. Have you ever seen a little man fighting a -great, big, hulking giant, who keeps on forcing the little man about -the place until the giant tires himself, and then the little one, who -has kept his wind, knocks him over? That’s how the fighting round here -strikes me. We are dancing about round the big German army here, but -our turn will come: _Corpl. T. Trainor_. - - -A True Dream - -It is a funny thing that Harry should dream about my arm being in a -sling. You can tell him it is quite true. It was my right arm, and it -is in a sling, but it will soon be out again for action. I enclose -you a photo of dear old “Taff,” the goat which was the mascot of the -regiment. He was shot the same day as I was, but I am very sorry to say -that he is dead: _Pte. Boswell, Welsh Regiment_. - - -“Tough Nuts” - -Have come across some very strange soldiers, with stranger weapons -and equipment. Talk about the load of a Tommy, the pack of a Turco or -Senegalese is double the size, and they are tough nuts, you take it -from me. The cultured army of Kaiser Bill is material for mincemeat -before very long, and all I can say is, “God help the troops with which -the native regiments, both African and Indian, get to grips”: _A Staff -Sergeant-Major_. - - -No Football! - -It is all very well to read in the papers what a chap wrote to someone -in Redhill about being fifty-six hours in the trenches and arranging -football matches. We were thirteen days in the trenches at one place, -where we only had to stand up a minute to bring a battery of German -artillery on the top of us, and for hours we had to lie still or be -blown to atoms. But never mind; the sun will shine again: _Pte. Gibson, -Royal Scots_. - - -Hungry! - -“Daddy’s Old Corps,” as we call the Lincolns, caught a lot of -prisoners who seemed glad to get caught. One man was asked if he spoke -English. He replied, “English none,” and on being asked if he wanted -some biscuits, he said, “Ah, yes, I’m hungry,” so he was evidently a -typical German--good at telling lies. He also knew how to demolish, for -he got through six biscuits and a 12 oz. tin of bully in the twinkling -of a gnat’s eyebrow, and then said, “More”: _Corpl. Hawkins, of the -Lincolns_. - - -Animal Instinct - -Even the animals in the French villages seemed to know the difference -between us and the Germans, and they used to come out to meet us. There -was a dog that followed our battery on the march for four days, and -we hadn’t the heart to chase it away, and kept it with us. It was a -soldier’s dog, you could see, and it died a soldier’s death, for it was -smashed to pieces by a shell when curled upon the ground beside one -of our guns in action. We crave it a soldier’s funeral with our own -comrades next day: _An Artilleryman, of Leicester_. - - -Sacramental - -I am thankful to say I managed to take communion this morning, the -first time since I have been out here, and I took it under very -extraordinary conditions. It was in a large house, which has been -converted into a hospital, and we were in a dark cellar, in which were -several casks of wine. We knelt on mattresses covered with blood, and -we could hear shells bursting outside. We could also hear the groans -of the wounded inside the building, Germans as well as English, but -still the communion service was nice and inspiring, even under such -conditions: _Sergt.-Major Elliott, Queen’s West Surrey_. - - -Sportsmen! - -You see some of us with a saucepan, or a frying-pan, and all sorts of -pots to do a bit of cooking in. We covered a large cornfield one day in -action, and when a few rounds had gone up a hare and a rabbit dodged -my way. I had them both. My pal had a plump little partridge, and then -a fowl got in the way; so we had a good feed at the end of the day. -We pooled the lot and put them in a pot together: _Pte. Oliver, 2nd -Worcesters_. - - -Praise and Song - -Before leaving Belgium we arranged with a priest to have masses said -for the souls of our dead chums, and we scraped together what odd money -we had, but his reverence wouldn’t hear of taking our money for prayers -for the relief of the brave lads who had died so far from the Old Land -to rid Belgian soil of the unmannerly German scrubs. When we got here -we sang “Paddies Evermore,” and then we were off to chapel to pray for -the souls of the lads that are gone: _Private McGlade_. - - -Convalescent! - -By the address, you will see I am at my winter hotel, but, -unfortunately, am confined to my room by a slight indisposition. As a -matter of fact, I have been wounded in my left leg by a sweet little -German humming-bird, or bullet, which wanted a good home. This place -is a magnificent hotel, and we are very comfortable here. I am in a -spacious ball-room, beautifully decorated. The kindness of the French -people is wonderful, and an example to some of the Britishers, who in -time of peace won’t look at a redcoat: _Lance-Corporal Hawkins_. - - -A Strange “Bisley” - -We were down to the last cigarette in a box that had done the company -for a week. There was a fight to get it, but the sergeant-major said -we would have to shoot for it like the King’s Prize at Bisley. It was -to go to the man hitting the most Germans in fifty shots. A corporal -was sent up a tree to signal hits and misses as best he could. -Half the company entered, and the prize was won by a chap who had -twenty-three hits. The runner-up had twenty-two, and, as a sort of -consolation prize, he was allowed to sit near while the winner smoked -the cigarette. He said being near the smoke was better than nothing: _A -Private of the Scottish Rifles_. - - -“Tiddlers!” - -We billeted for two days at a place two days’ march from Belgium, and -had a pretty good time bathing, and--what was most amusing--fishing in -a small pond for “tiddlers.” I and a chum went to a woman at a house -and, making her understand the best way we could, begged some cotton -and a couple of pins. We had a couple of hours’ fishing, and captured -quite two dozen, although before long lots of our chaps caught the -complaint and did the same as we did, causing much amusement. I suppose -that Frenchwoman had to buy a new stock of cotton, but she was a good -sort and was as much amused as the soldiers: _Pte. Purgue, of the Royal -Fusiliers_. - - -Grace--and Food - -The open-air service was good. The chaplain is a dear old chap. I had -to go and fetch him from headquarters and take him back after the -service, which was rather touching, though he managed to put a bit of -fun into it. He gave us a text which I think I shall remember all my -life; it fitted the occasion so good. It was: “The Lord shall preserve -thy going out and thy coming in.” I am having a rather soft time of it -lately.... Two weeks ago I was out buying bullocks, and that journey -lasted ten days. I had a nice bed each night, tons of good food, and a -good bath. It was the first time I had taken my clothes off since we -landed: _A Soldier with the 4th Division Train_. - - -Polus! - -Our fellows get on very well with the Frenchmen; I suppose it is -because most of us can talk the lingo after a style. There was one old -chap called Polus, a short, tubby little fellow with bright eyes and -black moustache, we palled up to quite a lot. He could sing quite well, -and was very funny when we called him Signor Caruso. We had him by the -fire the other night; you can imagine us round a fire in a corner, -formed up against the outside wall of the station, and a lean-to shed, -ourselves, some of the Scottish, and some Frenchmen, and this old chap -singing and keeping us laughing all the time. He had really a fine -voice, and sang the “Marseillaise” and “Toreador,” and one or two other -songs very well indeed: _Sergt. Sandle, of the H.A.C._ - - -“Gey Hard!” - -Two of our chaps one day had a wrangle about when we were likely to -reach Berlin. One thought it would be by Christmas, but the other, -being more patriotic, was for St. Andrew’s Day, and said there was -no prospect of any haggis for the occasion. They made a bet on it, -and it was duly registered by a chum, who acted as bookmaker for them -frequently. Next day they were in action, and one of them was badly -hit. His mate found him, and he saw he hadn’t long to live. The wounded -man was far gone, but he had enough sense to recognize his chum, and -in a weak voice he said, “I’m thinkin’, Geordie, that wee bet o’ oors -wull hae tae be aff noo. It’s gey hard, but the Almighty kens best”: _A -Sergeant of the Seaforth Highlanders_. - - -“Terribly Put Out” - -I see men of the other Irish regiments now and again, and they’re -terribly put out over the way these German heathens are destroying -churches and sending priests out to starve by the roadside in order -that the Germans may be free to live in their swinish way in the houses -and churches and sacred buildings. There’s not a man in any of the -regiments, Protestant or Roman, that doesn’t mean to make the Germans -pay for this, and, with all their bitterness against our faith, there -are Protestants from the North who are wilder than we are about it, and -declare they won’t stand by and see such things done by dirty Germans -without making a row about it. One of them said the other day in his -solemn Presbyterian way, “I hate the Pope as much as any man, and I -wouldn’t think twice about shutting down all your chapels, but it’s -another story when the Germans try it on.” That’s the way most of the -men from the North look at it: _Pte. Harkness, Royal Irish Regiment_. - - -A Fortunate One - -I am one of the fortunate ones. I was always told I would never be -killed, and I begin to think I was born under a lucky star. I have -been engaged in driving motor-wagons to and from the men lying in -the trenches fighting our battle on the Aisne. Certainly I have seen -very little of the fighting, but the roar of the big guns has been my -companion night and day. I had not been on the job four days before I -lost my first wagon, which I named the “London, Croydon, and Purley -Growler.” On my second journey to the field of operations we were -ambushed by a body of Germans, who pounced out of a wood, but not one -of them got back to tell the tale. It was a perfect eye-opener for -me and a nerve-tester, I can tell you. We were just congratulating -ourselves when crash went a shell on to the bonnet. How I escaped I -don’t know. My growler was no good; she was a complete wreck. After -transferring the load to another lorry we abandoned her and got away, -but not before several of our fellows were winged: _Private W. G. -Davies, A.S.C._ - - -Joke, but No Beer - -Some men prefer to prepare their own food, but the majority divide -themselves into sections and get one, or sometimes two, of their number -to do all the cooking, washing up, etc. And whatever “cookie” serves -up is always accepted as excellent. And many are the jokes cracked and -tales told round the fire during meal-times. Very often the cooks have -just got a fire going and the pots on when the order comes, “Wind up,” -_i.e._ start engines going, and then there is commotion. Semi-boiling -water has to be thrown away, and half-cooked food put back in the -“grub-box” till the next stop. But we have nothing to grumble at. -There is food--and to spare--for all of us. One thing that is often -wanted by our men is a good glass of English ale. I know a few here -who would gladly give their day’s rations for a “pint.” The “land -of wine and cider” will never be the “land of beer” to the English -Tommy. We have many a sing-song of a night round the camp fires. I have -got a melodeon, which was left on a battlefield by a German soldier, -so that is our band. It is an impressive sight to see about thirty -fellows around a fire singing lustily “A Little Grey Home in the -West,” accompanied by a melodeon, with the roar of cannon occasionally -breaking in: _Driver Drake, of the Supply Column_. - - -The Country Round - -The people all round here speak Flemish; it is a curious mixture -of English, French, and German, and they sometimes give us useful -information. They are a fine healthy stock, and work like niggers for -us. Our hostess was up all night feeding soldiers as they came in. -Yesterday I met a splendid old man, who told me all about his son and -showed me his photograph; he had one postcard from his son, with no -date, merely saying, “All well,” and the old man told me he had buried -it in the garden for fear the Germans should come and take it from him. -That gave me some idea of how people at home feel about their relatives -at the front: _Despatch-rider Gabain, 1st Cavalry Brigade_. - - -“Jambon!” - -We sleep fourteen in a tent, which is a bit crowded, but we are not in -it long enough to notice it. Fourteen of us washed in two quarts of -water this morning! So we have plenty of ink, and some of us haven’t -changed our clothes for five or six weeks. We have two rather queer -pets here: two little pigs, who run about among the horses, and are -quite friendly with them, and eat their corn as well. As one of the -fellows said, pork (or, as the French call it, _jambon_) tastes very -nice boiled, so they may be, before very long, in the casualty list -as missing or prisoners of war: _Lance-Corpl. Forward, Army Service -Corps_. - - - - -XX. SUMMING IT UP - - _We must be free or die, who speak the tongue - That Shakespeare spake: the faith and morals hold - Which Milton held._ - - WORDSWORTH’S “It is not to be thought of.” - - _Drink! to our fathers who begot us men, - To the dead voices that are never dumb; - Then to the land of all our loves, and then - To the long parting, and the age to come._ - - HENRY NEWBOLT’S “Sacramentum Supremum.” - - -Now we have our nose in the right direction, but it’s stiff work and -slow, and a case of dog eat dog, the meat being tough on either side: -_Sergt. Surr, East Lancashires_. - - -“Chin-Waggers” - -Don’t run away with the idea that this is going to be an easy thing, -for it’s not, and the sooner the fireside chin-waggers at home realize -it the sooner will the job be finished in the way a soldier likes to -see such jobs done: _Private E. Mayhead_. - - -The Better Man - -The German bully has not quite come up to expectations. Tommy is his -superior in every department, bar telling lies, of which the “sausage” -has no superior. They are getting hard hit all over the place, and seem -anxious to get back to the Vaterland: _Corporal Rogers_. - - -No Anxiety - -Surely you are not anxious in England about the result of the war. -There can only be one result if Germany still continues to fight--that -is, the absolute destruction of her army. There has no one been taken -in more than we ourselves have been with the quality of the German -army: _Pte. Harker, Army Service Corps_. - - -Volunteers! - -The Germans are making a dead set at the English, and are putting -their best troops against them. They despised us as a negligible -quantity, but they have got to know by now that they have to reckon -with some of the best fighting troops in the world. We fight -voluntarily and not compulsorily: _A Sergeant-Major of 18th Hussars_. - - -The Popular C.I.C. - -The whole of the army has absolute confidence in General French. He is -such a splendidly cool leader. Nothing flurries him, and he treats his -troops like men. When he passes along the lines he doesn’t come looking -sulky or stern, but he will talk as pleasantly to the ordinary soldier -as to the highest officer. Yes, the army in France will follow General -French anywhere: _Pte. S. Powell, 2nd Batt. Welsh Regiment_. - - -The Wrong Horse - -We don’t mind how hard the Germans press us, for we can always give -them as good as they give us, with something to spare as a reminder to -Kaiser Bill that he’s backed the wrong horse this time. I expect he -knows it by now, however, and I wouldn’t be in his place for worlds. It -must be awful to feel that you have made mugs of so many poor chaps who -are being sent to their deaths for no good reason that any sane person -can see: _Private J. Thomson_. - - -Close Fighting - -When it comes to close fighting it has been shown more times than I -can count that, man for man, our regiments are equal to anything the -Germans can put in the field, and we’re certainly not impressed with -the fighting finish of the German soldier. Their prisoners are surly -and bad-tempered, who don’t like being taken, and evidently bear us a -grudge for catching them: _Private T. Macpherson_. - - -Mud--and Glory - -There’s very little chance for any of the showy kind of fighting that -gets into the papers and delights the girls. It’s simply dull, dreary -work in the trenches, where there’s more mud than glory and more chills -on the liver than cheers. This war will be won by the men who can put -up with the most of that sort of thing, and we have got to grin and -bear it right to the end. I must say that, though it’s not what they -like best, our chaps are keeping at it pretty well, and they won’t be -easily worn out at this game: _Pte. G. Turner, Hampshire Regiment_. - - -What Thinks the Kaiser? - -What do you think of our army now? I wonder what the Kaiser thinks -about it? His famous crushing machine turns out to be an easily -demoralized crowd of automatic soulless clods who don’t know the -meaning of individual effort and efficiency. Take away their driving -power, the fear of their brutal officers, and they stand a useless mass -of brainless, bewildered men. They have a certain amount of pluck, but -they don’t know how to put it to account: _A Manchester Soldier_. - - -Professional! - -German prisoners are a good deal more friendly than they were. I think -they are coming to see we are not the fiends we were painted, and, -besides, many of their men are sick of the whole business. All classes -of society are found in the ranks as private soldiers, and one of the -toughest customers I have had through my hands was a professor of -music at one of the universities. He was quite young, in spite of his -position, and he fought like a tiger. His hatred of us was shown in -every way possible. He had lived in London for some time and knew our -language well: _Sergeant T. Whelan_. - - -“Cracking Up!” - -I am not at all surprised to find the Germans cracking up before the -swift advance of the Allies. They gave us the impression at first -that they were in too big a hurry to keep going for long at a time, -but I suppose haste is part of the method of waging war. The Germans -themselves are not very terrible as fighters. It is the strangeness -of their methods and the up-to-date character of their appliances -that count for a great deal. You do not expect to be half blinded -with searchlights when marching at night, and though we get used to -it soon, the horses do not, and I found that we often got into tight -corners through the horses getting terrified at the glare of the light: -_Trooper P. Ryan, 4th Dragoon Guards_. - - -Easily the Best - -Our men are easily the best troops out here, and the Germans are -the “rottenest” fighters it is possible to imagine. They fight like -devils when you can’t get at them, but when captured (and we have got -them wholesale) they try to give one the impression they don’t want -to fight, and only do so under compulsion. Our infantry are simply -marvellous, especially the “Jocks” and the “Guards.” Taking things on -the whole, the Germans rely almost entirely on artillery, and their -shells drop like rain without doing a great amount of harm, whilst -their infantry are packed like sardines in trenches, and they could not -hit the town they were born in: _Pte. L. Brown, 18th Hussars_. - - -The Whip Hand - -There’s not the least doubt that we have the whip hand of the Germans -now, and it’s only a question of time until we knock them under -altogether. Their officers simply won’t hear of letting them surrender, -and so long as there’s an officer about they’ll stand like sheep and be -slaughtered by the thousand. They fear their officers ten times worse -than they fear death. When there isn’t an officer about they’re quick -enough to surrender. Some of them have been kept marching night and day -for days on end. It’s a horrible sight to see some of them used up as -they have been; and they hate their officers like poison for what they -have had to go through: _Private King_. - - -The Pathos of It - -One dare not think of all the misery, sadness, and sorrow that greets -one where the fighting has been; lifelong efforts and struggling dashed -to the ground in the space of an hour or so. You quiet English folks, -with your beautiful homes and orderly lives, cannot realize what a -modern war means. You must spend night after night in cattle trucks, -where groaning, dying men are lying on straw; you must imagine the -interior of those trucks, only lighted with a dripping oil lamp; you -must see the pale, drawn faces and the red-stained limbs; then you must -stop and ask yourself if you are really in the twentieth century, or -if you are not dreaming. How one gets to love the light and the sun -after such nightmares, even when the Germans were so near, and that -with the dawn we knew the sing-song of the cannons would start again. I -could have yelled with joy at the first signs of daylight: _An English -Interpreter_. - - -The London Bus - -Some plucky things have been done by chauffeurs and motor-lorry -drivers. It would make some of your London drivers stare to see what -they will risk. One of them said this war will cause a revolution in -motor driving, as, till now, they never had a chance of seeing what -a heavy motor-van could do off a macadamized road. They simply go -whereever there is room for them, and more than once they have charged -patrol parties who tried to capture them, and got through all right. -One driver, seeing that the road was blocked, charged a wooden fence -and turf wall, and got out of the way of a lorry that the Germans sent -at full speed to smash him. The smashing was on the German lorry. -Motorcycles also do wonders. They travel like demons, and rarely get -hit: _Pte. Watts, Cheshire Regiment_. - - -Putting up with It - -Fighting’s kindergarten work compared with lying in your damp clothes -in the washed-out trenches night and day, with maybe not a chance of -getting any more warmth than you can get from a wax match. That you -may have in the day-time, but you’ll get into trouble if you fit it on -in the night, when the least sign of light will bring the enemy’s fire -down on you, besides the court-martial next day. You’re lying there -until you’re as stiff as if you were dead, and your body’s twisted and -torn with the pains of rheumatism and lumbago or quinsy, or your whole -frame shakes with the ague. That’s the sort of work that tells you -whether a man’s made of the right stuff, but you needn’t think there’s -any grumbling. Our chaps can put up with that just as well as anybody, -and they’ll come through it all right: _Pte. Cook, Coldstream Guards_. - - -Rubbing It In - -What most of us feel here is that the Germans are staking everything on -fighting in France or Belgium, and when they are beaten, as they will -be sooner or later, they will howl for peace to save their own country -from the horrors of invasion. That’s an idea we have got from their -prisoners, and they think it’s a rattling good one. If it were left to -the army to settle you may be sure that we’d vote to a man for giving -the devils a taste of their own medicine, and you’ll see us crossing -their sacred Rhine before long unless you’re the greatest fools in -creation. You are only a woman and can’t vote, but for Heaven’s sake -rub it in to all the men you know that this is what the army feels -about the thing. We wouldn’t make peace with the devils until we’ve -rubbed their noses well into the ground of their Fatherland, and we’ll -do it yet, even if it costs us a million lives: _Lance-Corpl. S. -Northcroft, of Wolverhampton_. - - -The Franco-British Team - -The great match for the European Cup is still being played out, and I -daresay there’s a record gate, though you can’t see the spectators from -the field. That’s one of the rules of the game when this match is on. -Our team is about as fit as you can have them, and they’re all good -men, though some of them are amateurs and the Germans are all “pros.” -The German forwards are a rotten pack. They have no dash worth talking -about, and they come up the field as though they were going to the -funeral of their nearest and dearest. When they are charged they nearly -always fall away on to their backs, and their goal-keeping’s about the -rottenest thing you ever set eyes on. I wouldn’t give a brass farthing -for their chances of lifting the Cup, and if you have any brass to -spare you can put it on the Franco-British team, who are scoring goals -so fast that we haven’t time to stop and count them. The Kaiser makes -a rotten captain for any team, and it’s little wonder they are losing. -Most of our side would like to tell him what they think of him and his -team: _A Gunner of the Royal Field Artillery_. - - -Music and Lunch - -We have been in the thick of the fighting all the time, and I can’t -understand how it happens that I’m alive and here now, and everyone -else is the same. If ever there was a Providence above watching and -guarding, there is one over our regiment, and me in particular. Last -week I was four days and three nights without sleep at all, except an -hour in the saddle or lying on the roadside; but we have been having a -rest this last two days, and we could do with it. You don’t look very -well in your photo; in fact, it made me feel more worried than whole -regiments of Germans would do. You are worrying about me, I am afraid, -and you absolutely must not do that. Why, I’m in the pink of condition; -have just had a chicken for dinner (from a deserted château). Have just -had two packets of Player’s from the Cigarette Fund. I’m just going to -have a sleep, and I wouldn’t call the King my uncle: _A Bandsman of the -Lancers_. - - -The Indian Men - -Everybody is wild about the Indians, and the way they behave themselves -under fire is marvellous. One day we were close to them when their -infantry received its baptism of fire. When they got the order to -advance you never saw men more pleased in all your life. They went -forward with a rush like a football team charging their opponents, -or a party of revellers rushing to catch the last train. They got -to grips with the Germans in double-quick time, and the howl of joy -that went up told us that those chaps felt that they were paying the -Germans back in full for the peppering they had got whilst waiting -for orders. When they came back from that charge they looked very -well pleased with themselves, and they had every right to be. They -are very proud of being selected to fight with us, and are terribly -anxious to make a good impression. They have done it, and no mistake. -I watched them one day under shell fire and I was astonished at their -coolness. “Coal-boxes” were being emptied around them, but they didn’t -seem to pay the slightest heed, and if one of them did go under his -mates simply went on as though nothing had happened. They make light -of wounds, and I have known cases where men have fought for days with -wounds that might have excused any man dropping out: I have seen a man -dress one himself in the firing line. One day I questioned one chap -about it, and his answer, given with a smile, was, “We must be as brave -as the English.” They are astonished at the coolness of our men under -fire, and it’s amusing to hear them trying to pick up our camp songs. -They were greatly taken with “The March of the Cameron Men,” which they -heard one night. They have a poor opinion of the Germans as fighting -men, and are greatly interested when we tell them of the horrors -perpetrated on the French and Belgians. We are all impressed with the -Indians--they are fine fellows: _A Sergeant of the King’s Own Scottish -Borderers_. - - -A Happy Ending - -I have a French book for travellers in France, so with it I went to a -farm and showed them that I wanted eggs. So they said, “Ah, wee.” The -man got a whip and bunched all the chickens together, and then told me -to pick one out. I tried to make him understand it was eggs I wanted, -not chickens, but failed. So I got an onion, put it on some straw, sat -on it, and then got up and “Cock-a-doodle-dooed!” Laugh, you would have -thought they had gone mad. They went to the farm next door and told -them, and there I was stuck in the middle of them, going all colours of -the rainbow. The secret of it was this; in the book it says: “English, -I would like two boiled eggs; French, _Je veux deux œufs à la coque._” -I showed them the last word, which I thought was eggs, but eggs is -_œufs_. Well, well, it’s all in a lifetime: _A London Fusilier_. - - - - - The _Real_ Story of the War - - _SHOULD BE READ BY - EVERY BRITISH SUBJECT_ - - - THE STANDARD - HISTORY OF - THE WAR - - BEING THE OFFICIAL DESPATCHES - FROM GENERAL FRENCH AND - STAFF, WITH DESCRIPTIVE MATTER - - - WRITTEN BY - - EDGAR WALLACE - - - VOLUME ONE - NOW ON SALE, AT - - ONE SHILLING NET - - Describes Liege, Mons, - Cambrai and Le Cateau, - Paris, the Marne, the Aisne - - - Obtainable at all Booksellers and Bookstalls, or Post free 1/2 from - the Publishers - - - GEORGE NEWNES Ltd. 8-11 Southampton St., Strand, London, W.C. - - -OTHER BOOKS in the DAILY CHRONICLE WAR LIBRARY - - THE GREAT WAR BOOK, price One Shilling net, is a carefully written, - original work treating very fully of the causes of the war, of the - problems and questions involved in it and of the armies and navies - engaged in it; in fine a book which you must have if you are to - follow the course of the campaign with due “light and leading.” - - THE GREAT BATTLES OF THE GREAT WAR, price One Shilling net, tells - in an interesting and graphic way the story of the fighting by - land and sea from the time the Germans invaded Belgium down to the - present date; so forming a narrative of singular drama and historic - importance. - - LLOYD’S A B C OF THE WAR, price Sixpence net, is a volume of reference - facts; facts about the war, the countries involved, the armies and - navies engaged; in fine a popular Who’s Who and What’s What of the - war for the newspaper reader. - - YOU CAN GET THESE BOOKS AT - ANY BOOKSHOP OR BOOKSTALL - - - - - Transcriber's Note: - - Every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully as - possible, including inconsistent hyphenation. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: The War Stories of Private Thomas Atkins - -Author: Thomas Atkins - -Release Date: May 23, 2016 [EBook #52142] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WAR STORIES *** - - - - -Produced by Brian Coe, Paul Clark and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries) - - - - - - -</pre> - - -<h1>The War -Stories -of Private -Thomas Atkins</h1> - -<div class="center"> -<img id="coverpage" src="images/front_cover.jpg" width="420" height="600" alt="" /> -</div> - -<div class="center"> -<img src="images/front_cover_verso.jpg" width="404" height="600" alt="" /> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> - -<p class="center"><span class="xxlarge">THE WAR<br /> -STORIES<br /></span> -<span class="xlarge">OF PRIVATE<br /> -THOMAS ATKINS</span></p> - -<p class="center p2"> -“<i>Are we downhearted?</i>” “<i>No-o-o!</i>”</p> - -<p class="author"><span class="smcap">The War Cry of Private Atkins.</span></p> - -<div class="center p2"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">It’s a long way to Tipperary</div> -<div class="i2">It’s a long way to go,</div> -<div class="i0">It’s a long way to Tipperary,</div> -<div class="i2">To the sweetest girl I know!</div> -<div class="i0">Good-bye, Piccadilly!</div> -<div class="i2">Farewell, Leicester Square!</div> -<div class="i0">It’s a long, long way to Tipperary,</div> -<div class="i2">But my heart’s right there.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="author"> -<span class="smcap">The Marching Song of Private Atkins.</span></p> - -<p class="center p4 large">PUBLISHED FOR THE DAILY CHRONICLE<br /> -BY GEORGE NEWNES LIMITED OF<br /> -SOUTHAMPTON ST., STRAND, LONDON<br /> -</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span></p> - -<p class="center">PRINTED AT<br /> -THE BALLANTYNE PRESS<br /> -LONDON -</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS">CONTENTS</a></h2> - -<table summary="contents"> -<tr><td></td><td></td><td class="small tdr">Page</td></tr> - -<tr><td></td> -<td><a href="#BLOW_BUGLES_BLOW">“BLOW! BUGLES, BLOW!”</a></td> -<td class="tdpn">5</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">I </td> -<td><a href="#Chap_I">MARCHING TO WAR</a></td> -<td class="tdpn">9</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">II </td> -<td><a href="#Chap_II">THINGS BY THE WAY</a></td> -<td class="tdpn">14</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">III </td> -<td><a href="#Chap_III">THE FRIENDLY FRENCH</a></td> -<td class="tdpn">20</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">IV </td> -<td><a href="#Chap_IV">THE ENEMY GERMAN</a></td> -<td class="tdpn">26</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">V </td> -<td><a href="#Chap_V">CAMPAIGNING IN GENERAL</a></td> -<td class="tdpn">32</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">VI </td> -<td><a href="#Chap_VI">BATTLES IN BEING</a></td> -<td class="tdpn">41</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">VII </td> -<td><a href="#Chap_VII">WHAT THE SOLDIER SEES</a></td> -<td class="tdpn">56</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">VIII </td> -<td><a href="#Chap_VIII">HOW IT FEELS UNDER FIRE</a></td> -<td class="tdpn">67</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">IX </td> -<td><a href="#Chap_IX">CORNERS IN THE FIGHT</a></td> -<td class="tdpn">78</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">X </td> -<td><a href="#Chap_X">HIT AND MISSED</a></td> -<td class="tdpn">92</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">XI </td> -<td><a href="#Chap_XI">ADVANCE AND RETREAT</a></td> -<td class="tdpn">103</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">XII </td> -<td><a href="#Chap_XII">IN THE TRENCHES</a></td> -<td class="tdpn">115</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">XIII </td> -<td><a href="#Chap_XIII">GALLANT DEEDS</a></td> -<td class="tdpn">125</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">XIV </td> -<td><a href="#Chap_XIV">TALES OF TRAGEDY</a></td> -<td class="tdpn">134</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">XV </td> -<td><a href="#Chap_XV">ANECDOTES OF HUMOUR</a></td> -<td class="tdpn">142</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">XVI </td> -<td><a href="#Chap_XVI">STORIES OF SACRIFICE</a></td> -<td class="tdpn">150</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">XVII </td> -<td><a href="#Chap_XVII">THE MAN AMID WAR</a></td> -<td class="tdpn">159</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">XVIII </td> -<td><a href="#Chap_XVIII">THE COMMON TASK</a></td> -<td class="tdpn">169</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">XIX </td> -<td><a href="#Chap_XIX">MATTERS IN GENERAL</a></td> -<td class="tdpn">179</td></tr> - -<tr><td class="tdr">XX </td> -<td><a href="#Chap_XX">SUMMING IT UP</a></td> -<td class="tdpn">186</td></tr> -</table> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span></p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">Now all the youth of England are on fire,</div> -<div class="i0">And silken dalliance in the wardrobe lies;</div> -<div class="i0">Now thrive the armourers, and honour’s thought</div> -<div class="i0">Reigns solely in the breast of every man.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="author"><span class="smcap">William Shakespeare.</span> -</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="BLOW_BUGLES_BLOW" id="BLOW_BUGLES_BLOW">“BLOW! BUGLES, BLOW!”</a></h2> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">Boot, saddle, to horse, away!</div> -<div class="i0">Rescue my castle before the hot day</div> -<div class="i0">Brightens to blue from its silvery grey.</div> -<div class="i0">Boot, saddle, to horse, and away!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Robert Browning.</span> -</p> - -<p>You like song, dear Private Atkins, its lilt and its sentiment, and you -have been singing your way through battle, on the hills of France and the -plains of Belgium. You are really a poet, as well as a first-rate fighting -man, though the very idea will make your camp-fire rock with laughter. -Well, in your letters from the war to the old folk and the young folk at -home, you have written things worthy to be bound in cloth of gold.</p> - -<p>You have, in particular, being a natural fellow, written yourself to them, -and you are just splendid, singly and collectively. You look out from -your epistles with a smile on your lips, humour in one eye and a touch of -the devil in the other, and you cry, “Are we downhearted?” “No!” gladly -answer we, who have been listening to the news of battle ringing down the -street, and for a moment, perhaps, forgetting you and your writing on the -wall with the bayonet point.</p> - -<p>You do get the red, living phrases, don’t you, Private Atkins? “The -hottest thing in South Africa was frost-bitten compared with what’s -going on here.” “The Boer War was a mothers’ meeting beside this -affair.” “Another shell dropped at me and I went like Tod Sloan.” -“Did you see that German man’s face when I told him about our victories? -Poor devil! He opened his mouth like a letter-box.” No, Thomas, you -may not be a scribe, but you “get there,” especially when the order -comes, “All rifles loaded and handy by your side!”</p> - -<p>“It’s hard, but it’s good,” is how you sum up your campaigning, and -there goes a bottom truth. “You can’t,” as you say, “expect a six-course -dinner on active service,” but you would break your heart to be out -of it all. “When I am in the thick of the fire a strange feeling comes -over me. I feel and see no danger—I think it is the fighting blood of -my forefathers.” Yes, and when you receive a rifle bullet through the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> -arm or leg it feels “a bit of a sting,” nothing more, “like a sharp needle -going into me, but shrapnel hurts—hurts pretty badly.” You are not, -however, going to let mother, wife, or sweetheart know this, because it -would worry them.</p> - -<p>You dread to tell them that “when the bullet went in my leg the -main artery was severed, and they are going to take part of it off and -leave me a cripple for life.” Still harder is it to write: “I am wounded, -and do not hope to live; I am going and so cannot come home as I hoped; -I send all my love.” And then there is an echo of infinity and immortality -in the thought, “When a fellow gets shot you never think he is -gone, but that he will come back.” Someone softly starts singing -“Nearer, my God, to Thee,” and it runs sweetly along the ranks, the -muffled prayer of inextinguishable hearts for a soul in flight.</p> - -<p>But “Black Marias” and “Jack Johnsons” and “coal-boxes,” as -you call the enemy’s howitzer shells, are driving along, and you accept -them with your usual Atkins philosophy. The gun you know as “Aunt -Sally” is flopping her big shells at you; “Calamity Jane” salutes you in -odd volumes from miles away, and “Belching Billy” chimes in now and -then. “Whistling Rufus,” whose shells are smaller, is also in the turmoil, -but, being without fear of the big brethren, you merely have a contempt -for him. Still, the whole roar keeps you from the hour’s sleep you are -entitled to snatch, and therefore you gently swear at the Kaiser as -“William the Weed,” nickname Von Kluck “Old Von o’Clock,” and -grimly subscribe to the Uhlans as “Ewe-lambs.” Always you remain the -good sportsman, saying, “Put me a shilling on Gravelotte for the Cesarewitch, -if this letter is in time”; or, “Fancy Robins drawing the Palace -1—1. Cheers!”</p> - -<p>What was it you said when the doctor was bandaging your shattered -knee? That you wouldn’t be able to play for Maidstone United at -Christmas! You had forgotten the remark. Possibly you had also -forgotten that four of you, and rather “bad cases,” enjoyed “nap” on -the top of a Red Cross motor-lorry, all the way to the hospital. One -of you contained six bullets, and he said on the operating-table, “There -will be enough to make the missus a pair of earrings.” Another of you, -a big Highlander, had pleaded not to be taken from the firing line because -“I have still some shots left and I can do something with them.” -“Keep smiling” is your motto; “there’s only one winner in this -game—roll on, England.”</p> - -<p>Your gay bravery, your simple tenderness, and your fine humour make<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> -an epic, Thomas Atkins, and it is you yourself who write it, all unknowingly. -“Tell mother I’m all Sir Garnet, Al.” “How is little -Dick? Give him a kiss. He must be a great man in this long while. -Love to the old lady and write soon”; and then, “I am wading in blood!” -“Irene’s prayer-book is always with me, although it upsets me to think of -her saying her little prayers for me. I have got some French slippers for -the children, which I hope to be able to bring to England. They are -very quaint—<i>Bon jour!</i>” “I parted with my badge to a little Belgian -girl who, with her mother, was giving our boys milk to drink. She was -just like Dora, and was wildly delighted to get such a souvenir.” “If you -have not sold Nigger I should like to have a photo of him and the two -boys, or Jack and the dog, to show some of my chums.” Thinking -tenderly of home!</p> - -<p>With tenderness, Private Atkins, you have chivalry; or, as you would -put it yourself, you “know how to behave towards a woman.” “The -Red Cross girleens, with their purty faces and their sweet ways, are as -good men as most of us, and better than some of us. They are not -supposed to venture into the firing line, but they get there all the same, -and devil the one of us durst turn them away.” Of course not, my Irish -soldier, and maybe it was you who plucked the grapes that a French maiden -couldn’t reach, and had the surprise and confusion of your life when, -in thanks, she kissed you on both cheeks. She knew, with the woman’s -instinct, that she could fire your chivalry and still trust it. “<i>Très correct</i>” -is the universal tribute you get in France, and it is a tribute to wear under -your medals, next to your heart—a Legion of Honour for the gentleman -you are.</p> - -<p>You have given your French friends another true taste of yourself -in your high spirits, your jollity, your manifestation that the merry heart -goes all the day. You have the gift of wonder, which means imagination, -and occasions for exercising it, as when the concussion of a shell flung you -up into a tree, and your sergeant, missing you and looking around, asked -in military language where you had gone! You came down to tell him -and couldn’t, and thereupon the wonder of the thing seized him also. That -incident was of the drawbridge order which links tragedy and humour, -for they march together even in the battlefield with you. Serious, nay, -grave things may be framing you about, but your eye never misses the -rift of humour, and that is good.</p> - -<p>There was a shell which lighted on a field kitchen while the master -cook was stirring the dinner. It was a near shave for him, but, as he did<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> -escape, you mostly recall his rueful appearance as he gathered himself out -of the scattered soup. Another of our vignettes is of some cows getting -into the battle arena, and of half a dozen infantrymen calmly milking -them. “Early doors this way; early doors, ninepence!” you once cried -for slogan in a hard charge. When the German searchlights fell on you -for the first time, your comment was, “Why, Bill, it’s just like a play -and us in the limelight.” It was the Irish element in you which -shouted, “Look at thim divils retraitin’ with their backs facin’ us,” -adding, about a lucky shamrock supposed to have been given to the -Kaiser by somebody, “Sure, Hinissey, and there’ll be a leaf apiece for us -when we get to Berlin.”</p> - -<p>Your philosophy, Private Atkins, cannot be upset even when a -shrapnel bullet knocks a few inches out of your arm. No; your -lament is that it carries away a tattooed butterfly of which you were very -proud. You date your letters from the “Hotel de la Openaires, Rue de -Grassies, bed most comfortable and all arrangements up-to-date.” You -have your little joke all the time, and so when you meet the Foot Guards -on a Sunday you ask them which band is playing in the Park? Now -and then the joke is against you, but you only enjoy it all the more, -which is the final testimony that you are a true humorist.</p> - -<p>Perhaps if the joke singles out overmuch you go “all the colours of -the rainbow,” a lovable thing, because it reveals your modesty. Otherwise -you always are in your element, be the field tented white or stricken -red. You are the complete knight in khaki, self-respecting, proud of -your regiment, a lion-rampant of bravery and resolution, tender-hearted -for all suffering; and we shall not forget your simple request, “Think -kind of a soldier!” How could we when we know that you have a -greater song than “Tipperary,” although you only sing it silently to -yourselves in the dark watches of the night:</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">“A little I’m hurt, but not yet slain;</div> -<div class="i2">I’ll but lie down and bleed awhile</div> -<div class="i0">And then I’ll rise and fight again.”</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right large">JAMES MILNE -</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_WAR_STORIES" id="THE_WAR_STORIES">THE WAR STORIES -OF PRIVATE THOMAS ATKINS</a></h2> - -<h2><a name="Chap_I" id="Chap_I">I. MARCHING TO WAR</a></h2> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">Fair stood the wind for France</div> -<div class="i0">When we our sails advance.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Michael Drayton.</span> -</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">Sound, sound the clarion, fill the fife,</div> -<div class="i0">To all the sensual world proclaim,</div> -<div class="i0">One crowded hour of glorious life</div> -<div class="i0">Is worth an age without a name.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Sir Walter Scott.</span> -</p> - -<p>One pretty French girl had learned -only one English phrase, “Kiss me -quick.” I don’t know who taught -her, but when she walked up the -lines repeating it she soon found -out its significance: <i>Truthful Thomas -Atkins</i>.</p> - -<h3>Keepsakes</h3> - -<p>The French girls are going mad -on getting our cap-badges and the -numerals on our shoulders. We -have been served with jack-knives, -and they want to buy them of us, -but we will not part with them: <i>A -Private of the Worcesters</i>.</p> - -<h3>Want Nothing</h3> - -<p>France is a lovely country, but the -sun has been very hot and trying—almost -as bad as India. The roads -are lined with apple and pear trees, -which are now laden with fruit, and -the troops are not in want of anything -in that line: <i>Quartermaster-Sergeant -R. Hodge</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Cheer, Boys, Cheer”</h3> - -<p>It’s enough to give you fits to -hear the Frenchmen trying to pick -up the words of “Cheer, Boys, -Cheer,” which we sing with a great<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span> -go on the march. They haven’t -any notion of what the words mean, -but they can tell from our manner -that they mean we’re in great heart, -and that’s infectious here: <i>Sergt. -W. Holmes, Argyll and Sutherland -Highlanders</i>.</p> - -<h3>Couldn’t Understand!</h3> - -<p>We never see a paper here; only -a French one, and you should see -the sport when our fellows try to -read one. Everyone has his own -way of reading it. The French -people are very nice, also very -generous. The only drawback is -we can’t understand them—only -just a few words now and again: -<i>Sergt. D. O’Donnell, 2nd Royal -Irish</i>.</p> - -<h3>Those Highlanders</h3> - -<p>The French people could not do -enough for us when we landed at -Boulogne. They were principally -struck with the Highlanders. They -had been told we were the -most daring of the British forces, -and one woman shouted out in -admiration as we marched past, -“There go the women from hell.” -She thought that was the biggest -compliment she could pay us: <i>A -Seaforth Highlander</i>.</p> - -<h3>Her “Soldat”</h3> - -<p>The French people run out with -bread and wine and fruit, and press -them on the soldiers as they march -through the villages. To-day we -are camped by a field of lucerne, -which is fortunate, as no hay is -available. The tinned meat is very -good, and we get French bread at -times, which is excellent. Yesterday, -passing through a village early, -I went into a small buvette, and -got coffee and some chocolate. The -good woman refused all payment, -saying she had a son who was -“soldat,” and I could not get her to -take any money at all: <i>Anonymous</i>.</p> - -<h3>Delightfully Hungry</h3> - -<p>I have never felt so well in my -life, and, my word, I can eat—any -time and all times. We get plenty -of real good food, and tea or coffee. -You will be rather surprised to hear -we are served with roast beef, lamb, -boiled beef, bully beef, cheese, bacon, -jam, marmalade, large and small -biscuits, onions, carrots, spuds, -celery; in fact, we are living like -lords. But we can’t get any London -shag (that is the worst rub), nor -any fag-papers, at least not with -gum on them: <i>Pte. C. A. Porter, -Army Service Corps</i>.</p> - -<h3>Dandy Lads</h3> - -<p>It rained a bit the first day we -landed in France, but after that -there were sunny days, and grand -country to march through, the roads -being particularly good. We did<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> -our thirty and thirty-five miles a -day, and finished up fresh, bar a -number who had bad feet and had -to be left at the base.... These -are the men, I said to myself, who -have made Old England the real -stuff which never allows confidence -to flag in a great national trouble -such as that through which we are -now passing: <i>A Private of the Royal -Scots Fusiliers</i>.</p> - -<h3>Flowers and Favours</h3> - -<p>The British troops met with an -overwhelming reception immediately -they landed on French soil. People -went mad almost, so overjoyed were -they to see us, and they begged us -to give them pieces of biscuit and -small articles as souvenirs. We -never wanted for food or anything -else among the French. The girls -threw us flowers and people gave -us wine, and anything, in fact, we -wanted. They all wanted to shake -hands with us, and we had great -difficulty in marching, so surrounded -were we with them. When we met -the French soldiers—well, that did -it. They commenced shouting and -singing, and were properly excited -at seeing us: <i>A Private of the Royal -Sussex Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>Tramp, Tramp, Tramp!</h3> - -<p>It would do your heart good to -see our fellows leaving for the front. -Regiment after regiment, thousands -of men, march past here every night: -Tramp, tramp, tramp! All splendidly -fit; sometimes with a band, -sometimes singing. A great favourite -is “Here we are, here we are, here -we are again,” also “Tipperary.” -As I am writing a train is leaving, -packed, and the Tommies are singing, -“Hold your hand out, naughty -boy,” all happy. There is nothing -on earth to touch our chaps for -spirits: <i>Sapper C. R. J. Green, Royal -Engineers</i>.</p> - -<h3>Pat’s Mishap</h3> - -<p>I was unlucky. I fell from a -train at full speed. I was picked -up for dead. French soldiers came -and carried me away for burial. -There were some women about. It -was, I think, a woman who came -up and looked at me and noticed -something which made her think I -was not a corpse—not yet. It’ll -take a lot to kill me! So I was -resurrected. I’m a good bit broken—something -in my back, something -in my head. Oh, yes; it’s -a bad pain when I move. But -that’ll be all right soon. I don’t -look bad, do I? <i>An Irish Private</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Comparison</h3> - -<p>As regards France in general, they -are a long way behind England in -so far as trams, buses, etc., are concerned, -but the country is simply -handsome. There is not a bit of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> -idle land anywhere, for all you can -see for miles is nothing but wheat -and fruit trees. The houses and -villages, I should think, were built -years ago. They put you in mind -of the old-fashioned pictures of villages -you see at home. The people -are the most cordial I have seen, and -at the present moment they would -give you their hearts if they could: -<i>Pte. Talbot, Army Service Corps</i>.</p> - -<h3>Church Bells</h3> - -<p>Just got into a big town. Resting -here for a few hours, so snatched -the opportunity to scribble this. -Can hear all the church bells -ringing. This is a very nice -country indeed. Every bit of land -is cultivated and there are tons of -fruit of all kinds everywhere. The -people here are about the cleanest -I have seen. They are all wild -with joy to think we are here -helping them, and every single one -tries to give us something. We get -more food, drinks, tobacco, smokes, -and fruit than we hardly know what -to do with. It seems a bit funny -to see the boys going fighting with -cigars on, but it’s a fact. Have a -pocketful myself at present: <i>Corpl. -Tupper, 4th Hussars</i>.</p> - -<h3>Invited Out!</h3> - -<p>I put on a clean shirt, washed, -shaved, and regular brush-up. We -arrived at the house, or rather mansion, -and were quite out of place, -as we thought, walking on polished -tiles in the passage with our big, -heavy boots. It was a perfect slide. -We took a seat by a big, round -table, had wine, cakes, tea, cigars -and cigarettes. To our surprise, -this lady’s father was mayor of -----. The lady, whose husband -was with his regiment about eleven -miles away, sang us two songs in -English—“The Holy City” and -“Killarney.” It was a perfect treat -to have one’s legs under a table and -drink from cups and saucers. Next -day we thought it was a dream: -<i>Pte. Pakeman, Army Service Corps</i>.</p> - -<h3>Triumphant</h3> - -<p>Since we landed here our march -has been a triumphal one. Everywhere -the people received us with -demonstrations of joy. When -off duty we are taken possession -of by the townspeople and the -French soldiers, and fêted as though -we had been lifelong friends. It -is not uncommon to see British and -French soldiers walking about the -streets arm-in-arm, and the shopkeepers -refuse to take money from -our men. We are free to take what -we want in the way of fruit or wine, -and some of the traders are indignant -even if you hint at payment. -“Pay us in German coin when you -come back from Berlin,” is a favourite -injunction. We have no difficulty<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> -in making ourselves understood, for -a surprising number of the people -know enough English to go on with, -and men of the French army are -always ready to act as interpreters -for us. The French troops are delighted -at the prospect of having -British “comrades-in-arms.” I was -surprised to find that the average -French “Tommy” is familiar with the -names of most of our regiments and our -officers: <i>Lance-Corporal T. Kelly</i>.</p> - -<h3>Thinking of Home</h3> - -<p>You needn’t worry about us. We -are more concerned about you at -home, and only hope that you are -being well looked after in our absence. -If we find that our loved -ones are not being cared for, we -will never forgive those responsible. -That’s my little “grouse,” done -with now, and I can tell of the -happy times we’re having here: -<i>Anonymous</i>.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="Chap_II" id="Chap_II">II. THINGS BY THE WAY</a></h2> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">Hark! I hear the tramp of thousands,</div> -<div class="i0">And of armèd men the hum!</div> -<div class="i0">Lo! a nation’s hosts have gathered</div> -<div class="i0">Round the quick alarming drum,</div> -<div class="i6">Saying, “Come,</div> -<div class="i6">Freemen, come!</div> -<div class="i0">Ere your heritage be wasted,” said the quick alarming drum.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Bret Harte.</span> -</p> - -<p>The French people were like -mothers to us, giving us food, -money, and wine. It is a pity to -see them leaving their homes and -having nowhere to go: <i>Pte. W. -Irwan, 1st East Lancashires</i>.</p> - -<h3>Safe!</h3> - -<p>The refugees used to follow our -troops, as they knew they would be -safe. The French people were very -kind to us. They would have -given us their shirt if they thought -we wanted it. They gave us plenty -of bread and cheese and wine and -water: <i>Pte. W. Pallett, 2nd Royal -Sussex Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>Perfectly Happy</h3> - -<p>I am in a little French village, -halted for the day, and with a few -chums have found a house that has -been left in a hurry all complete -with cooking-pots. I am preparing -the supper, which smells all right, -but you should see the ingredients. -I am perfectly happy, as this seems -the proper country for me, and I -never felt better in my life. I am -picking up French all right, but I -have not started eating frogs yet: -<i>Pte. T. Green, 5th Lancers</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Du Pain!”</h3> - -<p>My chum and I came into a -village one day, and we wanted to -get some bread and tobacco. We -met a peasant woman in the village, -and I said, “Du pain.” She took -me by the arm and led me into a -house. She opened a door and -shoved me into a dark room. I -couldn’t see where I was, and -thought it might be a dodge, so -I waved for my chum, and he came -in as well. Then we noticed some<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> -food and a bottle of wine on the -table: <i>Pte. Hannah, Scottish Borderers</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Song of a Shirt</h3> - -<p>I shall be a handy man soon. -Yesterday I washed my only shirt. -We were allowed only one with us and -one at the base. I have washed it -twice a month and used all my soap. -Washing is a luxury, but I have -managed a couple of good swims. -The worst part of yesterday’s washing -was that just as I had finished -wringing it out orders came to move -off, and I have been all night shirtless, -and it looks as though I shall -be a day or two without, because I -have no opportunity of hanging it -out to dry: <i>A Private, of Bridlington</i>.</p> - -<h3>Like Rob Roy</h3> - -<p>We are quartered in large caves -alongside a château three hundred -years old. We occupy three caves, -and a large fire is lighted in the -middle of each to purify the air -and keep us warm at night. The -nights are bitterly cold and very -damp. Incidentally it is fine to-day, -but we have had days of pouring -rain—not that it affected our spirits -in the least. You should see us -all clustered round our fires in the -evening, the flames lighting up at -times the oval ceiling of the caverns -and our faces; we must look like -bandits or Rob Roy’s boys: <i>A -Lance-Corporal of the London -Scottish</i>.</p> - -<h3>On and Off</h3> - -<p>We took turns on outpost duty—twenty-four -hours on and twenty-four -off. We slept in the open -with equipment and rifle, and had -to stand to arms an hour before -dawn, about two o’clock. The reconnoitring -patrols got a feed at -nearly every farm or house they -passed. We didn’t see a sign of -Germans all the time, although the -Uhlans were only a few miles away. -We had a decent time, and the -people are the best I have met. -They think no one is as good as an -Englishman, especially an English -soldier: <i>A Private of the Royal -Marine Light Infantry</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Baby Bunting</h3> - -<p>I heard a cry from an empty -house, and when I went in I found -a baby, about eleven months old, -lying crying in its nightgown. I -brought the youngster out. It was -raining in torrents at the time, and -I carried it about five and a half -miles. It was crying all the way, -and I tried to conceal it from our -sergeant, but eventually he said I -should be obliged to put it down as -we were going into action, so I laid -it in a hedge and covered it with -some straw, hoping that someone<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> -would soon find it and take care of -it. It made me think of my own -children: <i>Bombdr. Stoddard, Royal -Artillery</i>.</p> - -<h3>Early Piety</h3> - -<p>What struck me most was the -number of Boy Scouts smoking clay -pipes! They were only about six -or seven years old, and they came -up to us and asked us if we’d like a -chew of tobacco. They seemed to -enjoy it too. We were absolutely -covered with flowers. All the horses -were decorated up. There were -some lovely crops of wheat destroyed. -You could tell all the men were -at the war. The women were in -the fields bringing in the harvest. -Children seemed pleased to see us, -and they would walk along and -hold our hands: <i>Sapper Magridge</i>.</p> - -<h3>Quiet and Restful</h3> - -<p>We are having a very quiet, -restful time in an old semi-fortified -farmhouse. The enemy has a very -strong position directly ahead, and -until they are turned out we cannot -move. Four motor-cyclists are -quartered in an old hen-house, the -floor of which is covered with -straw; the perches come in very -useful as clothes-racks. We are -just going to have dinner, consisting -of mutton chops (killed last -night), potatoes, fried cheese, and -bread and jam. We can occasionally -get eggs, but otherwise we live -on bread and jam and stew made of -tinned meat and vegetables: <i>Dispatch-Rider -Schofield, 5th Cavalry -Brigade</i>.</p> - -<h3>On the Quiet!</h3> - -<p>I can tell you it is a pucker rough -life, for you have to get up as soon -as it begins to get light, and it is -about one o’clock before we can get -down to it. You had better tell -dad to volunteer for the war, for -it’s pucker exciting, and over here -there is plenty of wine, for every -village we go through the people -give us bottles of wine to drink, and -our regiment has been very jammy, -for all the Germans do when they -see you is to shell you or run away, -and when the shells begin to hum it -is time to gallop. Well, mum, I -cannot tell you where I am, as we -are on the move every day, and if -we did know, it must all be kept -secret, for we came out here on the -quiet: <i>Pte. Clapinson, 3rd Hussars</i>.</p> - -<h3>Sweetness—and Rain!</h3> - -<p>This is a sweet place when it -rains; you can’t get less than two -days’ rain at a time. I am now -doing mounted orderly duty to and -from headquarters, four miles away. -It’s a rotten ride back at night, -through pitch-black country, on -your own. I can’t say I dislike -this country at all. The people<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> -treated us well on our way here. -They brought out baskets of fruit, -bottles of wine, cakes, etc., to give -us, all shouting out, “Vive l’Angleterre!” -and all the little children -walking along the street get hold of -your hands and stroke them, as if -you were a prize dog or something: -<i>Lance-Corpl. H. E. Forward, Army -Service Corps</i>.</p> - -<h3>Comfortable!</h3> - -<p>We have had a good deal of -marching—twenty to twenty-five -miles per day—on very little sleep; -in bed by midnight and up by a -quarter to two. Last Saturday I -think was the nearest to purgatory -that I have ever been. We marched -about fifteen miles, and when we -got to —— we were kept standing -for four hours in a perfect deluge; -some of us lay down in the road in -about a foot of mud. When the -order came to march on again we -marched about another mile into a -ploughed field and were told to -make ourselves “comfortable.” It -was better in the road: <i>Pte. R. -Williams, Royal Army Medical -Corps</i>.</p> - -<h3>Sucking Eggs!</h3> - -<p>The French and Belgians have -been extremely hospitable, and -wherever we go we have been received -most generously—eggs, milk, -wine, bread and butter, jam, handkerchiefs, -apples, pears, plums, -coffee, etc., are among the many -gifts showered upon us as we ride -through the various towns. Picture -us riding along, the great unwashed, -and often unshaven, being -cheered by crowds of townspeople. -I can best compare it to the crowds -of long ago when a circus procession -came through Wakefield. I -have got quite expert at cracking -eggs on the front of my saddle and -sucking them: <i>Sergt. Seed, 3rd -King’s Hussars</i>.</p> - -<h3>To his Mother</h3> - -<p>Well, Ma, I am, above all places, -at Paris, and having a real good -time, and the reason I am here is -that the general had an accident -four or five days ago through his -horse stumbling and throwing him, -and he was sent to a hospital, and -naturally I had to follow on with -the car to be ready to take him back -to the front. Ye gods! it is good -to be amongst civilized people again, -and be able to have a decent bath, -for I might tell you I was getting -in a filthy state, having to go without -a wash or a shave for sometimes -three days on end: you can bet -that I made up for it to-day. This -morning I had an ordinary hot -bath, and this afternoon, to make -doubly sure that all the uninvited -visitors were dead, I went to the -English hospital and had a sulphur<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span> -bath; after that a visit to the -barber, and I felt a new man: <i>A -Private, of Bristol</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Far Journey</h3> - -<p>We entrained (our destination unknown) -in cattle trucks, forty men -in each truck, penned in like sheep, -and the only seats were the bottom -of the truck. It was awful, to say -the least of it, but it turned out -rather a pleasant journey, as at -every station we came to there were -people, both gentle and simple, -waiting to give us a cheer, also -eatables, such as sandwiches and -fruit of every description. It was -remarkable to see small banners of -the Union Jack in almost every -hand, and shouting “Vive English,” -while the troops replied with “Let -the sons of France march to glory,” -which they seemed to know the -meaning of, as they joined in their -own language. It was amusing to -see rather handsome girls giving -kisses to us in exchange for a badge, -buttons, etc. They could not converse -with us, but they conveyed -their meanings by signs, and a -common one was curling their -moustache and drawing their hand -across their throats, which meant -we were to kill the Kaiser, to which -we answered by showing our jack-knives. -It was the same right -through the five days’ journey; big -and small stations alike they fed -us, and it was well they did, for we -received no rations; we were treated -like gentlemen. I got a rosette of -the French colours from a lady, -which I will treasure. The kindness -of these people I will never -forget; they looked rather astonished -at our accommodation and -surprised at our good spirits under -the circumstances: <i>Pte. P. J. Grace, -1st Northumberland Fusiliers</i>.</p> - -<h3>A River of Joy</h3> - -<p>The trip we have just made was -tremendously exciting. Although -it was night-time when we went up -the river, this did not detract in the -least from the reception our men -got. All the villagers turned out, -fired off crackers, and hung Chinese -lanterns on the trees on the sides -of the hills. This had a very -charming effect. Towards midnight, -however, a thick fog set in, -and we were obliged to anchor till -morning. The fog cleared away -about 6 <span class="small">A.M.</span>, and we found ourselves -lying opposite a small village -which seemed to be deep in slumber. -Not for long, though. Our men -began to sing “It’s a long, long way -to Tipperary,” “Rule, Britannia,” -and “The girl I left behind me.” -Window blinds went up, windows -were thrown open, and people came -out on to the verandahs in their -“nighties” waving British flags, -laughing and cheering and singing.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> -By Jove, it sounded fine. Just -imagine, if you can, high wooded -slopes on each side, and this little -village nestling amongst the trees; -the morning mist quickly rising to -reveal a bright sunny day, and you -have it. One party of girls came -down to the river-bank and started -singing in return in French, much -to everyone’s amusement, as it was -easy to see they had just tumbled -out of bed. The quayside was -very busy that day, as a large -number of ships were all discharging -horses, men, guns, and all -the munitions of war. The whole -of the population turned out, and -as our men rode away in a never-ending -line one’s heart thrilled with -pride, so businesslike and smart -did they look in their khaki, their -bronzed faces giving them the -appearance of first-rate old campaigners, -and inspiring everyone -who saw them with the greatest -confidence. I have seen many -soldiers of many nationalities, but -never soldiers who were a patch on -those we are sending across to fight -our battles. Good fortune be with -them, and God bless them, is all I -can say: <i>An Anonymous Sergeant</i>.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="Chap_III" id="Chap_III">III. THE FRIENDLY FRENCH</a></h2> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">And, having France thy friend, thou shalt not dread</div> -<div class="i0">The scatter’d foe that hopes to rise again....</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> -</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;</div> -<div class="i0">For he to-day that sheds his blood with me</div> -<div class="i0">Shall be my brother....</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> -</p> - -<p>I think I owe all my luck to a -mascot I carry in my knapsack. It -is a beautiful crucifix, given to me -by a Frenchwoman for helping -her out of danger. It is silver, -enamel, and marble, and she made -me take it: <i>A Driver of the Royal -Field Artillery</i>.</p> - -<h3>“A Sport”</h3> - -<p>When waiting for action we -smoked cigarettes and ate apples -and pears from the French orchard -in which we were situated, while the -good old owner—he was a sport—brought -us out some coffee at four -o’clock in the morning: <i>A Private, -of Cricklewood</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Coo Naht”</h3> - -<p>I am making progress with my -French, and I am not often at fault. -Every time we go out people say -“Good-night,” even if it is in the -daytime, as that is all the English -they seem to know. Little children -say “Coo Naht”—that is the -nearest they can get to the right -pronunciation: <i>Corpl. Fourneaux, -Royal Engineers</i>.</p> - -<h3>So Hospitable!</h3> - -<p>I was sent out one day with two -chaps to search a wood and some -houses to see if any Germans were -hiding. As soon as we approached, -the people (who had been hiding in -cellars and other places), when they -found we were Britishers, simply -hugged us. They brought out eggs, -bread and butter, and if we had -stopped a bit longer it would have -required a horse and cart to carry -the things away: <i>Pte. Gibson, Scottish -Fusiliers</i>.</p> - -<h3>The “Entente”</h3> - -<p>I have never seen such enthusiasm. -Old men, women, and children fight<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> -in the streets to get close enough to -shake hands with us, or beg a piece -of cloth or a button from our -uniforms as mementoes of the -“Entente,” as they call it. At one -village the women clamoured for -locks of hair from us, and they had -to get them. Even the sick are -brought to the doors to see us pass: -<i>A Private Soldier</i>.</p> - -<h3>Praise Indeed</h3> - -<p>The French cavalry are wonderful, -though we never will admit that they -are superior to ours. They never -seem to tire. They will keep in the -saddle for days without trouble, and -are used to foraging for themselves -wherever they go. In battle their -bearing is magnificent. I have seen -a mere handful of them charge -twenty times their own number of -Germans: <i>Pte. H. Hill, 4th (Royal -Irish) Dragoon Guards</i>.</p> - -<h3>“A Blooming Nuisance”</h3> - -<p>The French girls are awfully -keen about our men, and you -should see them when we arrive in -any of the towns. They come and -link arms with us until they are a -blooming nuisance. It’s just goodness -of heart, and we don’t like to -be chivying them off, so they usually -get buttons, badges, or anything -they can beg off us just for a -keepsake. We couldn’t be better -thought of: <i>Trooper W. Green</i>.</p> - -<h3>Brave Women</h3> - -<p>The French people are very kind. -They gave us everything before -leaving any one place. They told -us to drink as much beer and wine -as we wanted and then to turn on -the taps so that the Germans could -not get any when they came. I -think the French women are braver -than the men. They brought us -fruit into the firing line regardless -of the shells and bullets that were -flying about: <i>Pte. T. Lacey, Lancashire -Fusiliers</i>.</p> - -<h3>Only Water Left</h3> - -<p>I feel sorry for the poor French. -Be thankful you are living in England! -We passed through village -after village on the march, and there -was not a living soul in the houses; -doors and windows were smashed -open, and everything broken. We -passed one house to which the two -women that lived in it had just -returned after the Germans had -passed. As we passed they gave -us a drink of water—that was the -only thing the Germans had left -them: <i>Pte. Crombie, Argyll and -Sutherland Highlanders</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Good Sports”</h3> - -<p>The French make a lot of us in -camp, and when we pass each other -in the field, no matter how busy -the Frenchmen may be, they give -us hearty cheers to encourage us on<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> -our way. There’s plenty of friendly -rivalry between us when there’s hard -fighting to be done, and when we -do get there before the French -they don’t grudge us our luck. -They’re good sports right through -to the core, and the British soldier -asks nothing better from allies in -the field: <i>Lance-Corporal E. Hood</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Give You Anything”</h3> - -<p>The French are so good-natured -they would give anything, even to -the last bit of bread in the house, -to our people. To us invalids on -our way through Paris they gave -a good reception, bringing grapes, -bananas, peaches, cigarettes, tobacco, -and bouquets of flowers. They are -thundering good-natured. To our -mounted men the poorer classes -would also bring out buckets of -milk and of water, and the women -would come with their aprons full -of fruit. They would give you -anything: <i>A British Gunner</i>.</p> - -<h3>Bearded like Pards</h3> - -<p>What strikes you most in this -country is the enthusiasm of the -people for their army. They have -flocked to the colours by the thousand, -and I fancy the biggest -problem here is what to do with -the men when you get them. Our -own army looks small beside the -French, but it is fit in every way, -and we hear its praises sung in -strange places. Some of our chaps -look queer now that they have -taken to letting their beards grow, -and you would not know them: -<i>Private G. Busby</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Fag” Making</h3> - -<p>We are always in the thick of it, -and we are doing grand work. The -whistle of the shells is not exactly -Tango music, but still the troops -are very cheerful. Most of the time -we have had good weather, but just -now the rain is a bit troublesome. -The behaviour of the French people -in the fighting area is wonderful. -They are just splendid. It is very -difficult to get a smoke here, and -when anyone strikes a match it is -amusing to see the rush. The British -Tommies are getting quite expert at -“fag” making: <i>Pte. Kay, Northumberland -Fusiliers</i>.</p> - -<h3>The Little Children</h3> - -<p>The French “kiddies” all love -the British Tommy, and would do -anything to have a ride on one of -our shoulders or hold our hands, -and they stand on their heads with -delight to receive a cap badge or -something as a souvenir. Their -bacca, which they call “tabac,” is -cruel, and it costs more than -English bacca in the long run, as -it smokes so quickly and you have -to smoke all day to get a smoke, -whereas our bacca satisfies us in a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> -minute or two. Their matches are -horrible. “Allumettes” they call -them, and they are a hundred a -penny, and you have to wait half a -minute for them to light and get -asphyxiated in the bargain: <i>A -Private, from Mons</i>.</p> - -<h3>In Hospital</h3> - -<p>All the other English wounded -were sent to Havre, but somehow I -got in with the French, and am -here with them now. It is rather -awkward, as I only know a few -French words, but a French officer -who has spent a lot of time in -England comes and talks to me, -and one of the nurses in another -department knows our language -and visits me whenever she can. -The officer before-mentioned calls -me “his Englishman,” and feels -how strange it must be; he brings -me English books and cigarettes, -and looks after me like a father. -These buildings are Roman Catholic -schools and chapels, and stand in -very nice grounds: <i>Lance-Corporal -Eccles</i>.</p> - -<h3>Well Pleased</h3> - -<p>I have just had mother’s favourite -potatoes and butter, French wine, -fish, and rum and coffee, and apples -and eggs to take home. I must -say they are very nice people. -They will do anything for you. -It’s just like being in England. -The only difference is the language. -We can’t understand them, and -they can’t us, but still we have -done fine up to the present. You -can get plenty of beer, but I would -not disgrace myself with that, especially -being on active service. I -am very pleased with the way the -French have treated us. They are -good-hearted people. Don’t matter -whom you see out, they all salute -you, and the ladies bow to you. -What more could you wish for? -<i>Pte. A. Rogers, Royal West Kent -Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Bonnie Fighters”</h3> - -<p>One thing, we are safely on the -road to victory, without a doubt, -and the gallant French army are -doing great deeds. The town we -are near is properly deserted, for -during the day the enemy are -shelling the surrounding country, -and the villagers go up the hill -into caves at daybreak, and go -back to town at night. The French -folk treat us very kindly, letting us -use their wells and buckets to water -our horses with, and letting us have -anything we want, but the one outstanding -difficulty is understanding -what they say. Each regiment has -an interpreter, and when we want -anything in town we have to go to -him and he puts us on the right -road: <i>Corpl. Cadwell, Royal Engineers</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span></p> - -<h3>“No Germany!”</h3> - -<p>They are a fine lot of people, the -French. They will give the British -troops anything. When we march -through the streets men, women, and -children run to the doors and wave -their hands, throw kisses, and all -that sort of thing. They are always -pleased to see us, and in all cases -they have aprons and baskets of -fruit of all kinds, which they give us -gratis. But the sight that touches -the heart is to see the burning home -of some poor old peasant, who can -ill afford to lose a copper coin. But, -believe me, the time is not far distant -when there will be no Germany, -and all I can say is, “God send it -soon and sudden”: <i>Pte. J. R. Coates, -Royal Fusiliers (City of London -Regiment)</i>.</p> - -<h3>No Singing Birds</h3> - -<p>A curious feature about this -place is the almost complete absence -of birds. One never hears birds -singing as in England. The result -is that the earth teems with spiders, -etc., on which birds are accustomed -to feed. I was on guard at —— -during the past twenty-four hours, -and it was intensely interesting to -chat with French Tommies who -gathered round our fire. They are -frightfully “bucked” when they -meet anyone English with whom -they can talk. A large number of -the H.A.C. speak French. For -this reason, if for nothing else, the -people here pay us a good deal of -attention. They are deadly keen -on getting souvenirs. If it is discovered -that we have parted with -our grenade or our shoulder letters, -our leave is stopped. At the place -where we landed 5 francs were -offered for the letters “H.A.C.”: <i>A -Member of the Honourable Artillery -Company</i>.</p> - -<h3>Quite Royal!</h3> - -<p>The nearest approach to our -reception in France is like what the -King got when he came to Notts. -There are hundreds of chaps in -England who would give twenty -years of their lives to get such a -reception as we get wherever we go. -I should advise any chaps coming -to France to bring a corkscrew with -them, because they will get loads -of wine given them by the French -peasants—they can’t do enough for -us. And the girls! By Jove, there -are some beauties—it’s Nottingham -beauty over again. Our greatest -needs at the present time are -English cigs., blankets, and soap. -I have only got thirty cigarettes -left, and the chaps here will give -anything from 1d. to 6d. for a -cigarette. They are far more valuable -than money. Another thing -which is valuable is water. Water -is more scarce than petrol. We -have to walk about half a mile for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> -water, and then it’s not very good. -We’re not afraid of washing after -one another in the same water. -I’ve seen about a dozen wash in one -bucket of water.... The French -soldiers do look funny in red trousers -and blue coats, compared with our -khaki suits. Half our chaps are -minus badges and buttons, which -the French girls have taken as -souvenirs—I got a little doll off -one girl when we were at Rouen. -I might mention that hardly any -of the chaps have any money—I’ve -got the large sum of 2½d.: <i>Pte. F. -Smith, Army Service Corps</i>.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="Chap_IV" id="Chap_IV">IV. THE ENEMY GERMAN</a></h2> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">Smite, England, to the tramp of marching men—</div> -<div class="i0">The rhythmic heart-heat of a world in pain—</div> -<div class="i0">Smite, hip and thigh, with flashing steel, and then</div> -<div class="i0">Unfurl thy peaceful banners once again.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Horace Annesley Vachell.</span> -</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">Oh, Polly love, oh, Polly, the rout has now begun,</div> -<div class="i0">And we must march along by the beating of the drum;</div> -<div class="i0">Go dress yourself in your best and come along with me:</div> -<div class="i0">I’ll take you to the war that’s in High Germany.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Old English Song.</span> -</p> - -<p>I have spoken to several prisoners -who could speak English, and with -no exception they all thought or -were told that the British troops -were no good at fighting—that it -was only niggers we could face. -They have got a different view by -now: <i>Sergt. Dickson, Coldstream -Guards</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Mister Bull!”</h3> - -<p>The Germans seem to have gone -mad entirely, and are running about -like bulls in a china-shop, playing -havoc with everything that comes -their way. Our business is to wait -around until Mister Bull gets -properly tired, and then we will -lead him off by the nose in proper -style: <i>Lance-Corporal E. Twomey</i>.</p> - -<h3>Not Suited to It</h3> - -<p>The Germans aren’t really cut -out for this sort of work. They -are proper bullies, who get on finely -when everybody’s lying bleeding at -their feet, but they can’t manage at -all when they have to stand up to men -who can give them more than they -bargain for: <i>Corporal J. Hammersley</i>.</p> - -<h3>Christian</h3> - -<p>Not all Germans are cruel. On -the Aisne I was lying for hours -wounded. A German came along -and bound up my wound under -heavy fire. When he had made -me ship-shape he was going to clear -off, but a stray bullet caught him, -and he fell dead close beside me: -<i>A Private of the Black Watch</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span></p> - -<h3>A Doubting Doctor</h3> - -<p>A big German surgeon came to -me and said, “You don’t like to -fight against us, do you?” I replied -we did not care whom we -fought so long as it was for the -good of our country. “But you -would rather not fight with us?” he -said. “No fear,” I replied, and then -he left me saying “Bravo”: <i>A -Captured Corporal</i>.</p> - -<h3>X-Rayed</h3> - -<p>The Germans are bad fighters. -They rely on their big guns to do -their work. They won’t come out -to fight you with their rifles.... -I have seen three big battles, and -got hit in the fourth one. Hard -lines, isn’t it? I have the bullet in -my foot yet, but I must wait for -my turn, as there are a lot waiting -to be X-rayed: <i>Lance-Corporal G. -Percy</i>.</p> - -<h3>Took the “Bully”</h3> - -<p>We got caught in a wood, where -I was wounded. When the fire -stopped the Germans came to us -and pinched everything we had. -We drew five francs the day before, -the only pay-day we had had out -here, and the beggars stole the lot. -They even sat down in front of us -and tucked into the “bully” they -had done us down for: <i>Pte. -Blissenden, Grenadier Guards</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Roll on, London!”</h3> - -<p>One German prisoner says, “I -don’t want to fight. Roll on, -London.” I suppose he was a -waiter in some of the London hotels. -Some of them look pitiful sights. -They are starved, and when they come -here they are all well looked after. -They say they are glad it is the -British who have taken them. -They know the French would not -give them much. They have good -reason too: <i>An Aberdeen Reservist -of the Royal Field Artillery</i>.</p> - -<h3>Captured Uhlans</h3> - -<p>The Uhlan prisoners created some -amusement as they were being -marched along, for, as they are not -used to marching, and were wearing -great jack-boots, it nearly kills -them, but they were pushed along -by the infantry. While the Uhlans -were thus being urged along the -Frenchwomen tried to get at them -and shouted to the soldiers to cut -their throats. Fortunately for the -prisoners, they were strongly -guarded: <i>A Gunner of the Royal -Field Artillery</i>.</p> - -<h3>Grave-digging</h3> - -<p>We were told off to bury German -dead, but we couldn’t get -through, there were so many, and -we sent into their lines under a flag -of truce to ask if they would come -out and help. They sent a lot of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span> -men out, and they were quite -friendly. They were well supplied -with cigars, which they most likely -looted from some French houses, -and they offered us some, which we -were glad of: <i>Pte. Brady, Irish -Rifles</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Barber in Lambeth</h3> - -<p>I went to a village by motor -with an officer to dress some German -wounded, about forty all told. -I was doing two German brothers, -and they spoke very good English. -One said, “Where are your good -people going to send us?” I replied -that I thought they would -be sent to England, and he said, -“That’s good. I hope it will be -somewhere near Lambeth Walk, for -I have a barber’s shop there, and -then my wife can come and see -me”: <i>Pte. Flaxman, Army Medical -Corps</i>.</p> - -<h3>Berlin “Nuts”</h3> - -<p>I am writing this on a lady’s -glove-box. I picked it up here, -but how it got here God only -knows. These German officers are -awful “nuts,” and carry as many -beautifiers as an actress on tour. -They use their gloves for another -purpose. They put a bullet or -stone in the finger of a loose glove -and flick the ears of their men. -We found a wounded German who -had been a clerk in London. His -ears were extra large and were both -swollen and skinned by the flicks he -had got from his officers: <i>Pte. F. -Burton, of the Bedfords</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Collies?”</h3> - -<p>It’s my opinion that you couldn’t -find greater collies between the seven -seas of the world than these Germans, -not if you were to walk about -for a month of Sundays, with all their -bragging and bantering and bullying -of the plucky little Belgians, -and any Christian might be ashamed -to use our wounded the way these -sausage-faced German pigs used -them. The “parley-voos” treated -us right decently from the first -day that ever we set foot in their -country: <i>A Private of the Connaught -Rangers</i>.</p> - -<h3>The Track of the Huns</h3> - -<p>One of the worst features of the -war has been to witness the plight -of the refugees in the stricken -countries. I have seen many a -strong man in our ranks with tears -in his eyes when we have passed -poor women and children flying -from their homes, their only food -being that which our soldiers gave -them. Every village through which -the Germans had passed in their -retirement was practically blown to -pieces. It is also tragic to see -thousands of acres of corn and -vines rotting, with no one to gather<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span> -them in: <i>Sergt. Walker, King’s -Liverpool Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>Got the Guns</h3> - -<p>The Germans seem to think that -you can catch Irish soldiers with -fly-papers, for they just stepped up -the other day and called on us to -surrender as bold as you like, and -bolder. We didn’t waste any words -in telling them to go about their -business, but we just grabbed hold -of our bayonets and signed to them -to come on if they wanted anything, -but they didn’t seem in a hurry to -meet us. After a bit they opened -fire on us with a couple of Maxims, -but we just fixed bayonets and went -for the guns with a rush. They -appear to be delicate boys indeed, -and can’t stand very much rough -usage with the bayonet. We got -their guns: <i>Pte. E. Ryan, Royal -Munster Fusiliers</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Made in Germany”</h3> - -<p>The first thing we saw was what -looked like a big black screen -rolling up and blotting out the -countryside. It turned out that -the screen was the German motor-cars. -I must tell you that they -never marched until they got near -to the firing line. They filled the -cars with men, as thick as they -could stick. Then another batch -would sit on the shoulders of the -others, and a third lot on theirs. -Straight, it struck me as so funny -the first time I saw it. I was reminded -of a troupe of acrobats on -the halls: <i>A Private of the Middlesex -Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Over the Shoulder”</h3> - -<p>They don’t like steel, those Germans. -I threw three of them consecutively -over my shoulder on the -point of the bayonet, and the very -next moment a shrapnel shell burst -right on my rifle. How I escaped -with what I’ve got I don’t know. -All the shell did was to blow my -rifle to smithereens and the tips of -my trigger and next two fingers off. -The doctor says it’s only the tips -gone. That’s good, as I shall have -enough to pull the trigger with -again, and if that fails there’s the -“over-the-shoulder touch,” which is -more than enough for the Germans: -<i>A Scots Guardsman, at Mons</i>.</p> - -<h3>No Chocolates</h3> - -<p>It is pitiful to see the innocent -women and little children driven -from their humble homes to trek -to different parts of France, literally -starving on the road. And when -they return they will find that their -only shelters have been burned to -the ground. I see in the papers -that English people have been giving -chocolate and cigarettes to the -German prisoners, and, I daresay, -every comfort they require. Yet<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> -a few weeks ago the same men -were robbing, looting, and causing -grief and anxiety in this country! -Instead of giving them cigarettes and -chocolates, English people should -distribute the money amongst the -wives and families whose husbands -and fathers will never return: -<i>Gunner E. Tyler, of Bristol</i>.</p> - -<h3>Kill or Wound?</h3> - -<p>One of the German soldiers captured -by the Lancashires observed, -“You shoot to kill; we fire from -the hip, and only want to wound.” -On a German officer who was made -prisoner a diary was found in which -was entered the advice: “Do not face -the British troops when entrenched; -their fire is murderous. First sweep -the trenches with artillery fire.” -One of the German methods of -finding the range with their big -guns is to heap up the corpses of -their fallen men, and thus, when -the Allied troops advance, their -distance from the batteries can -accurately be gauged: <i>A Private -in the Coldstreams</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Lucky Escape</h3> - -<p>The devils came into the village -and said the poor people were -hiding English soldiers. They then -set the houses on fire, and I could -see the flames coming my way. I -managed to get out before the stack -took fire, only to run into the arms -of three of the Germans. They -were as drunk as they could be, and -I soon got out of their grips. If -two of them are alive their mothers -will not know them. But I was -caught a little later by two more -of them. I thought it was all over -with me, when one of them was -shot dead by one of our chaps who -was hiding. I didn’t know he was -there, and you may imagine my -feelings when he came running to -me. We got away, but we should -have been riddled if they had been -sober: <i>A Trooper of the 11th -Hussars</i>.</p> - -<h3>False Bugle-calls</h3> - -<p>We found the Germans continually -sounding our bugle-calls -for the purpose of deceiving our -men, and one of our worst fights -took place at a place I can’t tell -you the name of, because the -Germans sounded the retreat for -one of our advanced battalions, and -then it was attacked in murderous -fashion as it deployed across the -open in the belief that it was being -ordered to fall back. For a time -that threw the whole line into confusion, -but we soon got right again, -and drove the Germans off in fine -style with the bayonet. After that -bugle-calls were dispensed with, but -the Germans soon “tumbled” to -that and took to picking off the -dispatch-riders who were sent with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> -orders. In that way it happened -that bodies of men never got their -orders to retreat or advance, and -that’s why some of our regiments -got cut up here and there: <i>A -Private of the 18th Royal Irish -Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Tell-tale Diary</h3> - -<p>I found this diary on a German -officer we had captured:</p> - -<p>July 20: At last the day! -To have lived to see it! We are -ready. Let him come who may. -The world race is destined to be -German.</p> - -<p>August 11: And now for the -English, used to fighting farmers. -To-night William the Greater has -given us beautiful advice. You -think each day of your Emperor. -Do not forget God. His Majesty -should remember that in thinking -of him we think of God, for is -he not the Almighty’s instrument -in this glorious fight for right?</p> - -<p>August 20: The conceited -English have ranged themselves up -against us at absurd odds, our -airmen say.</p> - -<p>August 25: An English shell -burst on a Red Cross wagon to-day. -Full of English. Ha! ha! -serve the swine right. Still, they -fight well. I salute the officer -who kept on swearing at Germany -and her Emperor in his agony. -And then to ask calmly for a bath. -These English! We have hardly -time to bury our own dead, so they -are being weighted in the river: -<i>Pte. Crow, 2nd Seaforth Highlanders</i>.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="Chap_V" id="Chap_V">V. CAMPAIGNING IN GENERAL</a></h2> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">What of the faith and fire within us</div> -<div class="i4">Men who march away</div> -<div class="i4">Ere the barn-cocks say</div> -<div class="i4">Night is growing grey,</div> -<div class="i0">To hazards whence no tears can win us;</div> -<div class="i0">What of the faith and fire within us</div> -<div class="i4">Men who march away?</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Thomas Hardy.</span> -</p> - -<p>It is a rough life, getting food -the best way you can, and cooking -it all ways. One morning we were -cooking some rabbits and the Germans -surprised us, so we had to -leave quick: <i>Corpl. Prickard, 11th -Hussars</i>.</p> - -<h3>Wanted a Hat!</h3> - -<p>I have lost another horse. A -piece of shell caught it, and another -took my hat off, so I have a big -French sun-hat now for headgear -until I can find one lying about -somewhere: <i>A Trooper of the 15th -Hussars</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Day in Bed</h3> - -<p>There is one thing I would -appreciate as much as anything -just at present, and that is a day’s -sleep in bed. We have not undressed -for a month, and a little -straw under some cover is considered -a luxury: <i>A Private of M Section, -B Signal Company</i>.</p> - -<h3>Lost!</h3> - -<p>If we lay down on the road we -fell asleep at once, but if Germans -got wind of us they were on top of -us before we could get to sleep. -We just lived on pears and apples, -and eventually fell in with a party -of French cavalry, who shared their -bread with us: <i>A Sergeant in an -Irish Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>Looked After</h3> - -<p>I am in the best of health and -am getting plenty of food. We -get bacon for breakfast, corned-beef -stew for dinner, cheese and jam for -tea and supper, plenty of tea and -sugar, and at four o’clock every -morning a half-quartern of rum, so<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> -you see they look after us all right: -<i>Lance-Corpl. Feeley, 1st Dorsetshire -Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Have You a Light?”</h3> - -<p>We keep a fire or candle going -all day and night specially for -lighting “fags” and pipes. If on -the move we keep a lantern on the -go, so if you could send me a good -substantial pipe-lighter (I don’t care -how much it costs) it will be the -best turn you have ever done to -the army, and I shall be in great -demand: <i>Sergt. Horwell, Royal -Artillery</i>.</p> - -<h3>Don’t Know!</h3> - -<p>It’s fighting and marching every -day. There was a majority of us -that thought it would be over by -this time, but I am afraid that it -will last a lot longer than what one -thought. We get no news here at -all, and we don’t even know where -we are stationed; they won’t tell -us anything: <i>Pte. E. Lawrence, -Bedfordshire Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>The Cannon’s Roar</h3> - -<p>Townsmen who are used to the -noise and roar of streets can stand -it better than the countrymen, and -I think you will find that by far -the fittest men are those of regiments -mainly recruited in the big cities. -A London lad near me says it’s no -worse than the roar of motor-buses -and other traffic in the City on a busy -day: <i>Sergeant-Major McDermott</i>.</p> - -<h3>Hard Lines</h3> - -<p>We had been two days and nights -in the rain and were soaking to the -skin. My section was told off to -hold a farm till we got the order to -retire, but to burn it before we -retired. I was in a hay-loft setting -fire to it when the floor gave way -and I was sent flying through to the -ground below, and I could not get -up. It was hard lines: <i>Private R. -McBride</i>.</p> - -<h3>Roughing It!</h3> - -<p>I am laid on my stomach on a -barn floor writing this with the -light of a candle I am lucky enough -to get hold of. As I write this I -can hear our big guns firing; in -fact, they fairly shake the place I -am in. We are just going to turn -into some nice dry straw, and have -a well-earned sleep. Talk about -roughing it: a man that gets -through this can get through anything -at all: <i>Trooper Stephenson, -18th Hussars</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Sing-song</h3> - -<p>Every night round the camp-fire -we have our photos out—that is, if -we have any—then we have a song. -The favourites are “Never Mind” -and “The Last Boat is Leaving for -Home.” The French people gave<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> -us a great welcome when we came -here, and they have kept it up in -every town and village we have -come through: <i>A Private of the -2nd Royal Scots</i>.</p> - -<h3>One Blessing</h3> - -<p>We are a rough lot out here, -and washing and shaving are things -of the past. The roof we sleep -under is large—the sky—and the -rain comes through very often. Our -shirts we change when they wear -out. You must not worry too -much if there are very long lapses -between the letters, as we can’t -always write. It’s a game of -dodging shells here. There is one -blessing: we get plenty of food, -and they are looking after us the -best they can: <i>Sergt. Prout, South -Wales Borderers</i>.</p> - -<h3>Not Worrying</h3> - -<p>I’m doing and going as I’m told, -not worrying, but taking things as -they come. I’ve slept in barns, -wool stores, cinemas, casinos, dock -sheds, and for a bit had the stars -as a counterpane. The fighting -has been very fierce and close; as -one pal said, “Oh! ain’t it ’ot?” -We have been outnumbered, sometimes -10,000 to 2000, but our -boys stick to them, and have played -havoc with their “mass formations.” -The Maxims have cut them down -like corn, and when we charge with -fixed bayonets see ’em run like rats. -They will get no quarter from our -“mob”: <i>Pte. Bromfield, Royal -Engineers</i>.</p> - -<h3>Scrap Iron</h3> - -<p>We were kept on the go for a -week, day and night, with hardly -a wink of sleep. What we did get -was just lying down and dozing off, -sometimes in the road, and sometimes -in a ditch. We raided a -convoy. Bacon, biscuits, sugar, and -jam all came to us. The wagons -were simply packed up. I think -we had about 150 lb. of bacon -between four of us. We marched -all that night, and in the morning -we collected a few sticks and started -to make tea and fry a few rashers, -when they opened fire on us, and -15 lb. of scrap iron interrupted our -meal: <i>Gunner J. Talboys, Royal -Field Artillery</i>.</p> - -<h3>Not Swept Away Yet</h3> - -<p>The other day we were off in -pursuit of a body of infantry, and -when we overtook them they simply -flung themselves down on the -ground and let us ride over them. -Then, when we came back, they -surrendered. Some of them were -so dead beat that they could not -run away, not even if they had -wanted to, and that seems to be -true of their men everywhere. -Some of them have had their fill<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> -of fighting and marching by this -time, and I do not blame them, for -they got it hot in the fighting -with us since the third week of -August, when they came along to -sweep us into the sea: <i>A Trooper -of the 3rd Hussars</i>.</p> - -<h3>From the Hip</h3> - -<p>The Germans have a funny way -in fighting. Their infantry when -advancing fire from the hip and -come on in masses, splendid targets -for our guns. As soon as one lot -gets mowed down the gaps are -filled up with fresh men. They -are in terrible numbers—about -ten to one in some places. Nearly -all the men’s wounds are shrapnel, -and heal wonderfully. Men almost -cripples a day or two ago are going -on splendidly since being treated -here. My worst wound is on the -right arm, a piece of flesh torn -away, but with good dressing it -should heal up well: <i>Bombardier -A. E. Smith</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Cupboard Skeleton</h3> - -<p>Two Royal Irish Fusiliers picked -me up and took me to a farm, -where there were other three -wounded. That night we heard -somebody prowling round the farm, -and thinking they might be the -enemy, the Irish Fusiliers hid in -a large cupboard, where they would -be able to make a good attack. -We hadn’t long to wait, and a -small party of German infantry -came in—on a looting expedition, -likely. The men in the cupboard -accounted for three, and the others -yelled and ran. The farmer and -his wife got scared, and they disappeared: -<i>Pte. Cunningham, 8th -Northumberland Fusiliers</i>.</p> - -<h3>Food for Powder</h3> - -<p>The impression we got was that -the Germans have so many men -available at the point where they -deliver an attack that, as soon as -one body gets tired out or shows -signs of losing its nerve under fire, -it is recalled to the rear and replaced -by fresh men, who are -brought up in motors and all sorts -of vehicles. The used-up men are -then taken away, and very likely -they come on again after a rest. -That’s an altogether new way of -fighting, but I fancy the Germans -go on the principle that “enough’s -as good as a feast” in what they -get from our rifle fire: <i>A Private -of the Manchester Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>Not Good Shots</h3> - -<p>You have read about their -famous Uhlans. They are worth -nothing. When we have come -close to them they have always -turned round. We are just wanting -to get them to charge. They -are very hard to tell from a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> -distance because they are very much -like ourselves. I am just getting -settled down to it now. If the -Germans were good shots I would -not be writing to you now, but I -must say their artillery fire is very -hot. It is that which has found -most of our fellows. The people -here can’t do enough for us. They -simply go mad when they see us: -<i>A Trooper of the 9th Lancers</i>.</p> - -<h3>Adam without an Eden</h3> - -<p>I got made prisoner along with -Sergeant-Major H—— of ours. -We did not think we should ever see -England again, as they made us -strip every mortal stitch off our -bodies so that we could not escape. -At the time they were being hardly -pressed by our troops. But in the -middle of the night we made a cut -for it. We got away, and after -wandering about absolutely naked, -not even a fig-leaf (a lifetime it -seemed, but really about a couple -of hours), we fell in amongst a -French division of infantry, and -they clothed and fed us in no time -and put us on the right way: <i>A -Trooper of the Dragoon Guards</i>.</p> - -<h3>The Enviable “Terriers”</h3> - -<p>I read in one of the papers that -some of the “Terriers” in England -have to put up with the inconvenience -of sleeping three in one -bed. I feel sorry for them. -Some of us would be glad to get a -bundle of straw sometimes. There -is one thing, up to the present, we -have been having plenty of grub -and a tot of rum nearly every -night, which no doubt you will -guess we refuse. We get tobacco -issued to us, but are very short of -fag-papers. A couple of packets -would come in very handy: <i>Gunner -Richards, Royal Artillery</i>.</p> - -<h3>Pea-shooters</h3> - -<p>At one place we had a surprise -attack. We were just getting ready -for some food, when all of a sudden -shells started bursting around us. -I can tell you it was a case of being -up and doing. Dixies and tea-cans -were flung on one side, our tea spilt, -fires put out, and the order given -to stand to our guns and horses, -everyone to prepare for action. Still, -we were not to be caught napping. -Our boys only close one eye when -we get a chance of a sleep, so you -can tell we were wide-awake by the -fact that it was a case of do or die. -Our gallant boys, the Guards, held -them at bay until our death-dealing -pea-shooters put them to flight: -<i>Driver Clark, Royal Artillery</i>.</p> - -<h3>Had “To Nip”</h3> - -<p>Two Germans had a pop at me -one day when I was crossing a -ploughed field, but they might as -well have tried to shoot the moon.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span> -I have had some narrow escapes -from shells—they were German -shells, or I should not be writing -this now. We laugh at them sometimes. -The Germans don’t like steel—although -we have not done much -in that line. We play on a different -line to that. We like to catch ’em -napping, and we have done it, too, -but, of course, they have had our -fellows the same. It would make -you laugh to see how we dodge the -shells and nip under cover for all -we are worth. We had to scatter -one night just when I was making -some tea. I was just going to put -the tea and sugar into the boiling -water when bang they came just -overhead, and I had to nip: <i>Corpl. -Newman, Somerset Light Infantry</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Fairly Well”</h3> - -<p>While I am writing this letter -I am cooking the dinner, boiling a -piece of bacon we managed to get -and potatoes. I have been elected -cook on our car. I expect you will -say it is just like me to be among -the grub. Anyway, we are getting -plenty of it now. We get our -day’s rations every morning—one -rasher of bacon, one tin of bully -beef, one pot of jam (between five), -a piece of cheese, so much tea and -sugar, and so much bread, when we -can get it; if we have not bread -we get biscuits. We get plenty of -potatoes out of the fields, and sometimes -make what we call bully-beef -stew. It is very nice, and consists -of bully beef, potatoes, carrots, and -onions—all boiled together. Sometimes -we get fresh meat, so you -see we are living fairly well: <i>Pte. -Calvert, Army Service Corps</i>.</p> - -<h3>Rained on</h3> - -<p>We struck our tents this afternoon -and then the rain came down. -It is eight o’clock now and the rain -is still steadily driving down. I -suppose you imagine that you can -picture the discomfort, but I bet -you can’t. As a help, however, I -will give you a few details. We -have had to erect the tent in the -pouring rain, which means that the -floor-boards are soaked, and each -one has to find a little dry oasis for -himself, and there aren’t many dry -places left when nine fellows have to -be crowded in. Now the tent-cloth -is soaked through and little streams -of water are trickling across the -floor, while miniature cascades are -dancing merrily down the walls: -<i>Lance-Corpl. J. W. James, Royal -Fusiliers</i>.</p> - -<h3>Quagmires and “Mug Racks”</h3> - -<p>A German device that is new to -me is the making of quagmires in -front of the trenches, usually by -digging extra trenches a few hundred -feet from the real ones, throwing -in the loose clay, and then<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span> -flooding them so that you get a -ditch of liquid mud. One day a -French infantry detachment was -advancing finely against the German -position until they stumbled -into one of these bogs, and just -as they were stuck fast they were -treated to a hail of fire. Barbed-wire -entanglements are ten times worse -than what we found in South -Africa. Usually they are hidden -away in the long grass, and you -don’t see them until they catch you -in the legs and bring you down. -However, we’re getting up to the -dodge. Now we call the wires “mug -racks,” because it’s only the “mugs” -who get caught in them: <i>A Private -of a Scots Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>Cave-dwellers</h3> - -<p>We are like brigands at large in -a cave, but one thing spoils it—that -is, these blooming shells. The guns -are only from six to eighteen hundred -yards off, but we cannot see -them on account of their being like -ours, so cleverly concealed, and our -aeroplanes cannot find them, although -if they go over it is ten to -one they are heavily fired at, but -with them being so high it is impossible -to see anything. We, the -machine gunners, are rather lucky, -as we draw our rations from the -cooker where they are at present -in the village, and then take them -to our house that we have, and where -the corporal in charge of the limber -stays. He acts as cook, and we -have bully stews, marrows, walnuts, -turnips, and different things, and -plenty of potatoes: <i>Pte. H. Tesseyman, -Coldstream Guards</i>.</p> - -<h3>Contour Maps</h3> - -<p>It is my opinion, although, of -course, I have no authority for it, -that the German artillery have -been supplied with contour maps of -the route to Paris, with the ranges -marked from hill to hill. Directly -they reached an incline and faced -us on another they let fly right -on top of us straight away. They -certainly had not time to find the -range by the ordinary methods. I -was wounded by a bullet from a -shrapnel. It is very poor stuff, -and very ineffective. The bullet -that hit me ought ordinarily to -have gone right through my hand. -I lay for about an hour and a half -on some corn, with the shrapnel -bursting over me all the time. -The bullets were absolutely spent, -and when they dropped on my -clothes they only singed them; -others I stopped with my hands -as they fell: <i>Quartermaster-Sergt. -Hinton, 17th Batt. Royal Field -Artillery</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Disturbed Dinner</h3> - -<p>Two days ago, our troop, consisting -of twenty-eight men, was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> -billeted in a farmyard. We were -trying our best to make up a bit -of a dinner by collecting potatoes, -carrots, etc., when a shell struck -the roof of the building and set it -on fire. Fortunately the only -casualty was a wounded horse, -although several of the men got -shaken up a bit. The only thing -that worried us was that we lost -our dinners, because I can tell you -we had to get out of it quickly—it -was a bit too warm for Tommy -Atkins. The country here is thick -with woods, which makes it very -dangerous for cavalrymen. We are -fighting side by side with the -French troops and we get on very -well together. Lots of them speak -good English: <i>Pte. Martin, 16th -Lancers</i>.</p> - -<h3>Petrol Power</h3> - -<p>The war is a petrol war. Every -thing is done by machinery, and -victory is to the man who has the -most petrol. One is much impressed -by this. The aeroplanes have by -now rendered ordinary scouts obsolete. -They go ahead of us and -find out everything about the -Germans. One hears the hum of -their engines daily. It was quite -exciting at one place when three -of our planes chased a very fast -German one. One of our fellows -put a bullet through his petrol -tank, forced him to come down, -and made him prisoner. We make -war in a most extraordinary way -nowadays. The other day —— and -I met at headquarters and had a -cup of tea together during an hour -I had off. He said he felt mischievous -and would love to have -a go at some Uhlan patrols who -were only about a dozen miles off. -So he jumped into his car and -drove off. A few hours later he -returned to have a first-class dinner -at an hotel near headquarters, -having killed a Uhlan and nearly -taken two more prisoners: <i>A -Dispatch-Rider</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Crackers!”</h3> - -<p>I expect the Germans thought -they had a snip. Their army is -very poorly looked after. You -can’t help feeling sorry for some of -the poor beggars—they are almost -starved to death, and give themselves -up in scores. This war is -nothing but an artillery duel, and -the country for miles is very wooded, -which makes it harder for us, because -we cannot see them till we -are almost on top of them, and then -they have first plonk at us. The -Kaiser’s crack regiment, the Prussian -Guards, went crackers before -we were out a fortnight. There -was a pretty dust-up. We caught -them coming across an open field. -We let them come within 200 -yards of us, and then we let go.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> -We almost wiped them clean out. -It was an awful sight when we -finished. Those who weren’t killed -ran for their lives. I expect they -are in Berlin by now: <i>Private R. -Homewood</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Near Shave</h3> - -<p>I was out with the Austin car -convoying three motor-lorries with -supplies for a cavalry brigade, when -we were pounced upon by a bunch -of German cavalry, who took us -prisoners, and took everything I -had except the clothes I was wearing. -All our men, twenty in number, -including an officer, were put -back to a wall and kept there with -an armed guard. I was made to -turn the motor round. They put -eight Germans in the car, and I -had an officer with a revolver pointing -at my head standing on the -step. They then made me reconnoitre -the villages for two hours, -looking for the positions of the -British troops, which they did not -find, but they went mighty close at -one time. Upon returning to the -same spot we were put in the middle -of a line of German cavalry, about -6000 strong, and taken up a steep -hill to a plateau on top. As soon -as it became daylight they were -spotted by our cavalry and artillery, -who made short work of them; but -they kept us right in their fighting -line to the very last, when they -bolted and left us: <i>Private H. L. -Simmons, of Addlestone</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Poor Old Bones!”</h3> - -<p>I look an awful picture. My -clothing is torn to shreds. I have -lost all my buttons, and it is dreadful -cold at nights, but I cuddle up -against the horses for warmth. Our -horses are terrified, mad, but my -two seem a bit at ease when I lie -down beside them at night. If I -leave them for a minute there is no -pacifying them. You would die of -laughing if you saw me now. I am -writing this across the horse’s belly. -He is too tired to rise, but he gives -me such knowing looks at times. -He is a proper chum. He is a -grey, and you should see the mess I -have made trying to discolour him. -He has tar mixed with moss rubbed -over him. Every kind of dust and -dirt I could get has been rubbed on -him. I have to laugh when I look -at him, and the officer this morning -nearly had a fit. Of course, there -is a humorous side to everything. -We would never live if there -wasn’t. The noise is deafening. -You can’t hear your mate speak -unless he shouts in your ear. The -bursting of the shells is appalling, -but poor old “bones” lies here as -if he was in the stable at home. -He is dead beat, and so am I, but -there is no actual rest here; it is -only a lull: <i>A Private of the Scots -Greys</i>.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="Chap_VI" id="Chap_VI">VI. BATTLES IN BEING</a></h2> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves,</div> -<div class="i0">Dewy with Nature’s tear-drops as they pass,</div> -<div class="i0">Grieving, if aught inanimate e’er grieves,</div> -<div class="i0">Over the unreturning brave,—alas!</div> -<div class="i0">Ere evening to be trodden like the grass....</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Byron’s</span>: “Childe Harold.” -</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">For the Colonel rides before,</div> -<div class="i0">The Major’s on the flank,</div> -<div class="i0">The Captains and the Adjutant</div> -<div class="i0">Are in the foremost rank.</div> -<div class="i0">But when it’s “Action front!”</div> -<div class="i0">And fighting’s to be done,</div> -<div class="i0">Come one, come all, you stand or fall</div> -<div class="i0">By the man who holds the gun.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.</span> -</p> - -<p>I got a biscuit from Tibby Tennant, -and was eating it when I got -shot. M‘Phail was beside me, and -dressed my wounds as well as he -could: <i>Pte. Clark, Highland Light -Infantry</i>.</p> - -<h3>Unexpected</h3> - -<p>I will tell you of a cute trick of -our gunners. They got a lot of -empty wagons and put them in a -wood. The Germans, seeing them, -thought they were our guns put -out of action. They rushed out for -them, and our artillery did not half -scatter them, killing about four -hundred: <i>Pte. Brown, Loyal North -Lancashire Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>Turpinite</h3> - -<p>I saw some of the effects of turpinite, -the wonderful French explosive, -used in this war for the -first time. I saw a trench full of -dead Germans killed by it. They -were standing right up in the -trenches looking as though they -were still alive: <i>Pte. Thompson, 2nd -Dragoon Guards</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span></p> - -<h3>Took Off the Roof!</h3> - -<p>I was standing within 50 yards -of a house one day when a shell -came and took the roof clean off; -you could see the cups on the table -quite plain; a clean sweep. I -counted about thirty shells drop -around us the same day in half an -hour; we had only two horses and -a man shot: <i>Tpr. C. McCarthy, -4th Hussars</i>.</p> - -<h3>Lancashire!</h3> - -<p>Fellows were being knocked out -all round, and wounded were crying -for help. Frequently one would -say to his neighbour, “Bill, how’s -ta gettin’ on?” but Bill, who had -been as cheery as a cricket just -before, was found to be picked off. -Our ranks were so thinned that by -the time we got within charging -distance of the enemy’s trenches we -had not sufficient men left for the -charge: <i>Pte. Harvey, North Lancashire -Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>Up Aloft!</h3> - -<p>All our troops blamed the German -aeroplanes for the heavy loss -which we sustained. It did not -matter where we went to try and -get an hour’s sleep, there would be -an aeroplane over us. The Germans -dropped a little disc—a sort of -long tape—from their aeroplanes, -about twenty yards in front of our -trenches, and shortly after the -Germans would start shelling us. -I think it is mostly the aeroplanes -which enable them to get our range -so accurately as they do: <i>A Private -of the Manchester Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>His Own Back</h3> - -<p>We were only 300 yards from -a battery of German “death -screechers,” which naturally opened -fire into us, doing great damage. -We soon silenced them, though. -Worked round their flank and -picked off the gunners. Please -don’t think I am boasting, but I -picked off eight. I had a splendid -position. I was firing three hours -before they hit me seriously. When -I was hit I didn’t care; my rifle -was smashed to atoms by a shell, -but I was gloriously happy, having -got my own back before being put -out of action: <i>A Private of the -Sussex Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>Sleep Through Anything</h3> - -<p>The Germans keep firing away -by night as well as day, and that -gives them a big pull over us, -because the men in our lines find -it hard to sleep with the continual -shelling. Firing from your own -lines doesn’t affect you in the same -way, so that it doesn’t keep the -Germans awake unless we bombard -them. Men without sleep are not -nearly so fit for fighting the next -day. Not all of our chaps are kept<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> -awake. There are some who could -sleep through anything: <i>Gunner -Dyson, Royal Artillery</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Lucky, Considering”</h3> - -<p>My company was advancing on -a wood from which the Germans -were picking off our men. We -were lying down firing, when from -the wood was shouted, “Stop it, -you are firing on your own men.” -Someone said, “Cease fire,” and -we did. Then a very hot fire came -at us from the wood. My left-hand -man was shot through the stomach, -and then my right-hand man was -shot through the head. It was a -German who had shouted to us. -Then a shell, a 96-pounder, burst -over us, and a piece of it took away -from me a large piece of my left -side. I am lucky, considering: -<i>Pte. J. Sullivan, South Lancashires</i>.</p> - -<h3>Nothing Wasted</h3> - -<p>We killed a tremendous number -of them, and owing to their massed -formation they were practically -standing up dead in front of us. -It just suited us to be plugging at -them. They came on as if they -thought they had nothing to do -but take the lot of us, but they -were surprised to find that they -could not do so. The Germans -shoot promiscuously, believing that -their shots must hit someone. They -had not the same chance of hitting -us, and rarely attempted to pick -out their man before they shot. I -should think that in three days I -fired between five hundred and six -hundred rounds of ammunition, and -we did not waste any; every shot -was meant for someone: <i>Private P. -Case</i>.</p> - -<h3>Those Uhlans</h3> - -<p>We were attacked by a brigade -of German cavalry—Uhlans. We -got out of the trenches and prepared -to receive their attack. I -caught the first horse with my -bayonet, causing it to swerve so -suddenly to the right that the -Uhlan was pitched on his head, -breaking his neck, I fancy, but not -before I heard a sword whizz past -my head. I did not feel at all -comfortable. I also caught the -second horse, but he got his hoof -on my left foot, and I felt something -on my chest throwing me on -to the ground. What happened -afterwards I don’t know, as I was -unconscious for the next thirty-six -hours: <i>Sergt. Gibson, Sussex Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>Stonewalling!</h3> - -<p>The fighting was hard at times, -but only really terrible when you -were groping about in the dark -exposed to heavy rifle or artillery -fire without the least suspicion of -where it was coming from at the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> -moment or likely to come from -next. Later, when we had settled -down to the work and could see -what we were up against, it was -child’s play, so to speak, and all -you had to do was to lie in the -trenches and pick the Germans off -as you saw them coming on to the -attack. And to pick them off is -just like taking shots at a stone-finished -wall. You can’t help -hitting something, and every time -you hit you are taking chips off the -wall: <i>A Private of the Loyal North -Lancashire Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>The Way of It</h3> - -<p>The shrapnel shells of the Germans -were bursting over the trenches -where we were lying, and I was -struck in the foot with a piece of -shell, which took the sole of my -boot clean off. Five minutes later, -when I was trying to help a fellow -near me who had been hit in the -shoulder, I was struck in the right -thigh by a pellet from a shrapnel -shell. I fired one more shot after -that. I aimed for the driver of a -German machine gun and hit him. -This was my first experience of -actual fighting, and I can tell you -it is a funny sensation at first to -see the shells bursting near and -around you, to hear the bullets -whistling by you, but you soon get -used to it all. It tries your nerves -a bit at first, but you soon get in -the way of it: <i>Private C. D. Moore</i>.</p> - -<h3>Like an Exodus</h3> - -<p>We of the Argyll and Sutherland -Highlanders took up a position -facing a wood where the -Germans were in strong force. As -they emerged our boys met them -with a raking rifle fire, which mowed -them down. On they came again, -and again with the same devastating -result. Their bullets came -whistling round us, but we were -indifferent, the marksmanship being -very poor. The German infantry -carry their rifles under their arms, -the butts resting on their hips, and -they fire as they march. As the -enemy poured out <i>en masse</i> into the -open it was like the exodus from -the Celtic and Rangers Scottish -Cup final! Man, if they were only -three to one we could go through -them easily, but when it comes to -ten to one, strategy as well as -bravery has to be considered: <i>An -Argyll and Sutherland Highlander</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Long, Long Day</h3> - -<p>I rolled a cigarette, thinking the -engagement finished for the time, -and was making my way up the -ridge ahead of my company to see -how far the Germans had retired. -I had gone some considerable distance -when thousands of Germans -reappeared on the sky-line, and of -course I had to dash back to my -company. Every second I expected -a bullet through my back, but I was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> -lucky and was bowled over by one -which fractured my right elbow, and -I broke my forearm as I fell. The -Germans advanced right over me, -but after taking all my grub out -of my haversack they left me to my -fate. I lay there until dark and it -was the longest day I remember. -The bullets and shells flew over my -head incessantly, some only falling -a few yards away from where I lay. -As soon as darkness fell and the -firing ceased the stretcher-bearers -came out and got me away. Once -or twice I sat up to see what chance -I had of getting away, but the dirty -devils kept on sniping at me, and I -had to lie down again. I could see, -however, that the ground was covered -with dead Germans: <i>Pte. Priest, -Coldstream Guards</i>.</p> - -<h3>Every House a Fort</h3> - -<p>We were standing close to an -orchard, and some of us were killing -time and quenching thirst by picking -apples from the overhanging -trees, when the enemy opened fire -with their guns and their rifles. -We were quickly formed into -positions allotted to us, and advanced -to the attack supported by -the Irish Rifles, who were moving -slowly, as their job was to cover -our rushes with rifle fire. Our own -artillery opened out, adding to the -frightful din, and making us think -we had been transported to the -infernal regions. Soon we reached -the village and found the Germans -occupying the houses in strong force. -Every house was a little fort, and -the infantry were firing from the -windows furiously, picking us off as -we came along. In some houses -they had machine guns mounted at -the windows with which to sweep -our line of advance. On another -house a big gun was placed in -position, and some of our sharpshooters -were told off to pick off -the men working it. This they -did in a short time, and it was -silenced. Seeing that, the Germans -attempted to send up a new gun’s -crew, but they had to pass under -fire when they came out on the -roof, so that our men lay there -picking them off as fast as they -showed their heads. That went -on for over an hour, but they didn’t -get their gun manned, for every -man who tried it was shot down. -After that they gave it up: <i>A -Wounded Corporal</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Gallant Sky Pilot</h3> - -<p>We had no trenches, all that -was available being head “cover,” -and in some parts there was very -little of that. The noise was -terrible, while all the time the -shells were bursting around. Occasionally -when they exploded near -us the shrapnel even tore our -clothes. The shells, however, which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span> -did the most damage were those -which burst in the air. While the -action was going on we could see -quite a number of the German -aeroplanes operating above us. -Their object was to discover our -position, and when they had accomplished -this they dropped some -kind of powder which burst into -flames as it descended and showed -their artillery at what places to -direct their shell fire. There was -a most exciting and peculiar incident -in the course of the engagement. -An aeroplane hovered above -our lines and then darted towards -the Germans. Our artillery fired -at it, and when the enemy saw it -their artillery also attempted to -bring it down. The machine came -back in our direction, still under a -heavy fire, and you can imagine our -surprise when it descended amongst -us and a young Frenchman stepped -out of it. He had been sent to discover -the position of the Germans. -The frame of the aeroplane was -riddled with bullets, but in spite of -that fact he made several visits in -the course of the evening towards -the German lines: <i>Pte. R. Stobbie, -Highland Light Infantry</i>.</p> - -<h3>The Unexpected</h3> - -<p>We were in a field when the -Germans dropped on us all of a -sudden as though from the sky. -The first hint we had of their presence -was when a battery of guns -on our right sang out, dropping -shells into a mob of us who were -waiting for our turn at the washtub—the -river. We all ran to our -posts in response to bugles, and by -the time we all stood to arms the -German cavalry came into view in -great strength all along the left -front. As soon as they came within -range we poured a deadly volley -into them, emptying saddles right -and left, and they scattered in all -directions. Meanwhile their artillery -kept working up closer on the -front and the right, and a dark cloud -of infantry showed out against the -sky-line on our front, advancing in -formation rather loose for the Germans. -We opened on them, and -they made a fine target for our rifle -fire, which was very well supported -by our artillery. The fire from our -guns was very effective, the range -being found with ease, and we could -see the shells dropping right into -the enemy’s ranks. Here and there -their lines began to waver and give -way, and finally they disappeared: -<i>A Wounded Guardsman</i>.</p> - -<h3>No Love Lost</h3> - -<p>It’s very little love indeed there -is lost between us and the Germans, -and when they get to grips with -Irish soldiers they don’t get much -chance of saving their skins. The -things the Germans do in Belgium<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> -are ten times worse than anything -you ever heard tell of in ’98, and -there’s few Irishmen can stand -what they’ve done without wanting -to tear them to bits in good, honest -fighting. We saw the Irish Guards -give the Germans a fine basting at -Compiègne, and we were proud of -the way they behaved. When they -came back to our lines after it -was over they had a grand cheer -from all of us, and the French -troops, who were nearer to the fight -and saw it better than us, weren’t -behindhand in giving our boys a -good pat on the back. It would -have done your heart good to see -the Frenchmen standing up in their -trenches and shouting like mad as -the Guards passed by. The poor -chaps got shy and sick of all the -fuss that was made over them. -They didn’t like the idea that it -was their first time on active service -and that they were only babies -at fighting, and there was many a -row in the camp that night over -men saying fine things about the -Guards, and reminding them of the -fact that they never had had any -battle honours before that day: -<i>Private P. Heffernan</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Up, Guards,” and at ’Em?</h3> - -<p>Shrapnel began to burst around -us, and the Guards had to prepare -to engage the cavalry now creeping -closer. Suddenly the cavalry remounted -their horses, and came -crashing down on our chaps. -“Now, Guards!” was all the officer -in command said, but his men knew -what he meant, and they braced -themselves for the tussle. They -lined up in the good old British -square that has proved a terror to -European armies before, and the -front ranks waited with the bayonet, -while the men inside kept -blazing away at the advancing -horsemen. They came closer and -closer, and the earth seemed to -shake and quiver beneath their -rush. “Steady!” was all the commander -of the Guards said, and he -said it in a dull way, as though he -were giving a piece of advice to -some noisy youngsters who had been -making a row. The men answered -not a word, but they set their teeth. -Then the crash came. Steel met -steel, and sparks shot out as sword -crossed bayonet. The game of the -Germans was to ride down our -ranks, but they didn’t know that -that trick won’t work with British -troops, and the Guardsmen kept -their ground, in spite of the weight -of men and horses. The Germans -came to a dead stop, and just then -they got a volley from the centre of -the square. They broke and scattered, -and then they got another -volley: <i>A British Guardsman</i>.</p> - -<h3>Clearing Them Out</h3> - -<p>The Germans held a position on -the hills in front of us, and their<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> -infantry had trenches just below -them. Their shells started to drop -on us. We rushed along. We -were getting mowed down, but we -had to shift them, as the officer -said they were there long enough. -How they missed me I do not -know. We got to about 100 yards -of their trenches, when the general -passed the word up that the brigade -would fix bayonets and charge, -taking the time to “go” from the -bugle. It was an anxious time -waiting for the moment. I said to -myself, and a lot more the same, -“This is my last rush, but I will -fight for my life to the last.” The -bugle sounded at last, and we made -a dash for it. The men were falling -each side of me. I was doubled up. -We made a bit of a cheer, but it -was more like a groan. There was -only about half of us got there. -When I got to their trenches I -made a sort of a dive at it with my -bayonet leading, and it stuck in -one of them, in the chest. We -killed and wounded the lot, but -we found that they had a trench -running backward, and a lot -escaped by that way. We stopped -in the trenches a while to get our -wind, and we shook each other by -the hand, and I said, “I will -never be hit after that,” and was -confident of it. And I thanked -God from my heart for being -alive: <i>Pte. Grace, Northumberland -Fusiliers</i>.</p> - -<h3>Steady, Boys, Steady!</h3> - -<p>Lyddite, shrapnel, common siege, -and other sorts of shells were bursting -all around us. The fumes from -the terrible lyddite were sickening—we -were spitting up yellow stuff -three days afterwards. Some of the -shrapnel bullets hit our chaps pretty -badly, but some were harmless. One -fell red-hot across my fingers, but -its force was expended. Shortly -afterwards a big lump of shell -plunged into the earth a few inches -from my face. Then every other -shell that came seemed to strike -the earth a few inches above my -head, knocking lumps of earth and -stones all over me. I gave up all -hope of ever seeing England again, -and so did everyone, so I said just -a wee fervent prayer, and keeping -low down I managed to scribble -what I really thought would be the -last line to my sister in my pocketbook. -Then I remembered that I -still possessed half a cigarette, so -I managed to strike a match and -finish that just as my look-out man -saw the German infantry advancing -on us about 800 yards away. I -can tell you we gave them a warm -reception. The German artillery -were busy just then trying to drop -shells into our artillery, and we gave -the German infantry the very best -of our attention. Our men simply -mowed them down with rifles and -machine guns. Still the Germans -came on like great waves. My<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> -men acted admirably, taking steady -aim every time until the fields in -front of us were covered with lines -and heaps of German dead and -wounded: <i>Sergt. J. Williams, Highland -Light Infantry</i>.</p> - -<h3>Scared Gun-Horses</h3> - -<p>What impressed me most was a -battery of artillery under fire. It -dashed up to a point that had been -marked by a stake with a number -on it by the officer who was responsible -for allocating the positions. -Just as it stopped the Germans, -who seemed to have the position to -a hair’s-breadth, sent shells shrieking -around the battery. The horses -got frantic and began prancing and -kicking out in terror. The drivers -held on like grim death, but the -poor animals could not be pacified, -and at last they dashed off in the -direction of the German lines with -the guns. The drivers stuck to -their posts and did all they could -to restrain the mad horses. Meanwhile -a party of new men with -horses were brought out and dashed -off in pursuit. They caught up -soon, and rode alongside to get -hold of the runaways. It was no -use, however, and now they came -within range of more German guns, -and the shells were bursting overhead, -making the poor animals -madder than ever. There was -nothing for it but to shoot the -mad animals, and this was done -after some difficulty. Then it was -necessary to take out the dead -team and put the new one in, -while German shells were dropping -around. Half of the men were hit, -but they meant to stick to their -posts, and not all the Germans in -the field could have driven them -away. Just as they were getting -the guns away a party of German -infantry came on the scene, but by -that time our battalion had moved -out to cover the withdrawal of the -guns, and we gave the Germans as -much as they could stand: <i>A Corporal, -Northamptonshire Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Cameron Man</h3> - -<p>We retired into a wood, and it -was here that I got put out of -action. I was struck with a piece -of shell, and I fell, thinking it was -all over with me. The shell had -struck my pack, and I was not -injured in the least, but the strange -thing was that I could not find my -pack. The straps on it had been -broken. I then got up, and had -not gone twenty yards when I got -what seemed like a terrible blow -on the left thigh with a big forehammer. -Looking down, I saw -that my kilt was all blood, and I -realized I was knocked out. I tried -to get up, but my old leg would -not come. I saw my chance and -seized it. An ammunition pony<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> -came flying past me, and I made -one desperate jump at it. I did -not look for the reins: I got hold -of something, and I was pulled -right across an open space between -the woods. My God, it was something -terrible coming over that -open ground. The enemy had been -waiting for our advance across it -all day. This was where most of -our fellows fell. The bullets were -dropping like hail, shells were bursting -all around us, and it was worse -than hell, if anything could be. A -few got across, but how many I -cannot say, for when I got this -length I dropped. I never saw the -old pony afterwards: <i>Pte. Brooks, -Cameron Highlanders</i>.</p> - -<h3>The Cold Steel</h3> - -<p>We fixed bayonets and clambered -out, and somehow got together -some kind of formation and rushed -towards the hedge. All we could -see was a few strange uniforms a -quarter of a mile away. Away we -went, and one of our officers was -bowled over straight away, whilst -many on my right and left dropped -out. We shouted out our slogan, -and went at them as fast as we -could. At last we arrived with a -yell at the ditch where the German -riflemen were concealed, and they -fired at us point-blank, but not one -of us went down. Then we went -at them with the steel, and the -Germans being six feet below us, -they had no chance. When we -had each “done” our man we had -to jump over the ditch and on -towards the German guns. We -were running like hell, when all of -a sudden machine guns poured into -us from both sides, knocking dozens -of us over in heaps. The officers -gave the word to retire, and we -came back at a run. When we -came to the trench we had already -jumped we found that we had not -killed all the Germans in it, and as -we passed over it again we were -shot at, and my pal was nearly -bayoneted. We got back, and did -not do much good. We killed a -few hundred Germans, it is true, -but we lost one hundred and fifty -men! The Germans will do anything -to get away from the cold -steel: <i>A Cameron Highlander, at -the Aisne</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Is This Death?”</h3> - -<p>It was a thousand times worse -than being in hell. For six days -we were in the same trenches, almost -at arm’s reach of the enemy. We -could only steal out under cover of -darkness for a drink of water. It -rained all the time; but we had to -make the best of it. Every day -was the same as the day before—an -advance at daybreak and at -night; but every time we were -beaten back by frightful odds.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> -Each time we were forced back we -left hundreds of our men behind, -killed and wounded. Then it was -the same old command, “Fall back -on the trenches.” My comrades -were constantly falling by my side. -Day after day, and every minute -during the day, German shells were -falling around us like rain. We -could hear them coming through -the air, and we would lie low in -the trenches and say, “That is -another one that has missed us.” -But the fatal one came without us -hearing it. Thirteen of us were -together, and only one lucky devil -escaped. When the blow came I -thought my head was taken off. I -fell on my knees and put one arm -up in the air, and said, “Good -God, is this death?” I then put -my hand on my face, and I felt the -flesh, which was so badly torn. But -I felt no pain. It seemed dead. I -crept along the top of the trenches -until I found the doctor who was -with my regiment. He simply put -a piece of cotton-wool over my face -and laid me under a tree, as the -firing was too heavy to get a proper -dressing on. For five hours I lay -bleeding under that tree, and the -German shells were still falling -about us like rain: <i>Pte. Kneale, -Liverpool Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>Spoiled Their Appetite</h3> - -<p>“It’s a fine night for the Germans,” -is what we say when it’s so -dark that you could not see your -finger before you, and it was just on -such a night that I was nicked while -serving my gun. Just about two -in the morning there was a heavy -rattle of rifle fire on the hill where -our advance men were posted, and -soon the whole camp was alive with -noise and bustle as the men sprang -to arms. We always sleep beside -our guns so as to be ready for anything, -and in five minutes we were -at our posts waiting for information -about the range. That came later, -and then we began plugging away -for all we were able. We caught -sight of a mass of Germans swarming -up a slope on the right to take -cover in a wood there, and they -didn’t know what we knew. We -dropped a few shells into them just -to liven things up a bit, and keep -them from thinking too much about -the Fatherland, but we had to be -careful because some of our own -chaps were posted in that wood. -The Germans kept rushing along -gaily, and there wasn’t the slightest -sound from the wood, where our -men were securely posted behind -felled trees. Now the German -searchlights began to play all around -and the air was lit up with bursting -shells, so we could see the Germans -getting nearer and nearer to that -wood. Suddenly the whole side of -the wood was one big sheet of flame -as our hidden men sent volley after -volley ripping through the ranks of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> -the advancing Germans. They were -fairly staggered at the suddenness -and fierceness of the fire, and before -they had time to collect their wits -a big body of our chaps were into -them with the bayonet. Just when -this little show was in full blast the -Germans obliged with more limelight, -and we saw it clearly. That -spoiled the German appetite for -breakfast in that part of the field, -though from what we heard later -there was no doubt that this was the -point where they expected to break -through, and they cleared off -quickly: <i>A Gunner of the Royal -Field Artillery</i>.</p> - -<h3>“A Jigsaw Puzzle”</h3> - -<p>The Germans came on at a smart -pace with the plan of seizing a hill -on our right. At the same moment -our cavalry came into view, and then -the whole Guards Brigade advanced. -It was really a race between the two -parties who should reach the hill -first; but the Germans won easily, -owing to their being nearer by half -a mile. As soon as their guns and -infantry had taken up a position -the cavalry came along in a huge -mass with the intention of riding -down the Irish Guards, who were -nearest to them. When the shock -came it seemed terrific to us in the -distance, for the Irishmen didn’t -recoil in the least, but flung themselves -right across the path of the -German horsemen. We could hear -the crack of the rifles and see the -German horses impaled on the -bayonets of the front rank of the -guardsmen, and then the whole -force of infantry and cavalry were -mixed up in one confused heap like -so many pieces of a jigsaw puzzle: -<i>A Guardsman, from Compiègne</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Erin Go Bragh!”</h3> - -<p>We are British soldiers, and proud -of the name and proud to belong to -the great British Empire, but in -doing our duty for the glory and -honour of the Empire we have -always also in our minds to add, -if we can, more lustre to the fair -name of Erin. Our flag of green -with the harp and shamrock and -the words “Erin Go Bragh” is now -faded and torn, but still loved and -cherished. Talking about that dear -old flag, I shall endeavour to describe -how, at ——, when the fate -of the day seemed to waver in the -balance, when the ruthless enemy -by sheer weight of numbers was -pressing onward at every point of -vantage, that faded flag turned a -threatened defeat into decisive victory. -On our left were the Munsters, -on our right the Leinsters -and Connaught Rangers. All were -hard-pressed and were about to retire, -when suddenly from the firing -line one of our comrades rushed out -flourishing the old green flag and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> -shouting “Erin Go Bragh.” With -the blood coursing fast through my -veins, I watched with pride and -admiration the marvellous effect -produced these simple words. -With a mighty cheer that seemed -to rend the heavens, and that rose -and swelled even above the din of -battle, those hard-pressed sons of -Erin charged down on the advancing -enemy with fixed bayonets. The -Germans were completely staggered -by this unexpected turn of events -when victory seemed just within -their grasp, but they were given -little time for hesitation, for, to -slightly alter the words of a well-known -Irish ballad:</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">Like lions leaping at a fold,</div> -<div class="i2">When mad with hunger’s pang,</div> -<div class="i0">Right up against the German lines</div> -<div class="i2">Those Irish heroes sprang.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p>The Germans turned and fled in all -directions, completely routed and -wholly disorganized. Such was the -effect on the Irish Guards of the -sight of their old green flag and -the cry of “Erin Go Bragh”: -<i>Corpl. Michael O’Mara, of the Irish -Guards</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Midnight Move</h3> - -<p>One night when it was unusually -wet and miserable and dreary, and -some of us had got all the humps -that ever were seen on a camel’s -back, the Assembly sounded, and we -were paraded at midnight. We fell -in, glad to have something to take -us away from our miserable surroundings. -We didn’t know what -the move was when we were marched -out into the darkness, but we didn’t -care much so long as it was warming -work. We tramped through -weary swamps and soaking wet -fields for nearly five miles, and then -we were halted near to a line of -German trenches, while scouts went -on ahead and the remainder of the -force was being conducted to its -assigned position. Just when some -of us felt like having the creeps all -over because of the uncanny stillness -of everything, a rifle shot rang -out, followed by others, and then -there was a regular volley. We lay -down quickly and tried to peer into -the darkness to see something to -aim at. There was nothing: and -then their artillery opened fire all -along the line. Shells kept bursting -all over us, and our horses -began to get restive. By now the -whole of our attacking force was in -position, and our artillery opened -fire at the points where the attack -was to be delivered. The order to -advance was given quietly, and we -sprang to our feet with right good -will. Some of us went down again -jolly quick under the German fire, -but we kept moving on, and by that -time the Germans were losing the -range. We were supported by an -infantry brigade that had to clear -a line of trenches on the right.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span> -The four battalions opened out in -extended order and pressed slowly -towards their goal. Men dropped -quickly, dotting the line of advance, -but in less than half an hour our -lads were ready for the tiger-spring -that never fails. The Germans met -them with a heavy rifle fire as they -climbed the last slope, and when -they got to the top they were assailed -by twice their number of -infantry armed with the bayonet. -At one point the line broke, and -our lads fell back in some confusion. -Reserves were pressed forward -to feed the fighting line, and the -advance began again. Once more -the Germans were too heavy for our -chaps, and again they were forced -back. They halted for a little to -take a rest and then began again. -They dashed up the slope like wild -cats and closed with the Germans, -who were by this time getting tired -of it. There was no falling back -this time, and though it was very -hard work indeed, the whole line of -trenches was cleared and the Germans -sent flying: <i>A Trooper of the -15th Hussars</i>.</p> - -<h3>A High Ordeal</h3> - -<p>I was on picket duty, and it was -just after midnight when the men -ahead fell back reporting strange -sounds all along the front. At the -same moment we heard rustling in -the bushes close by, and as there -was no response to the challenge we -fired, thus giving the alarm in the -sleeping camp. Out of the bushes -the enemy’s advanced guard rushed, -but we held them in check until -we deemed it wise to fall back on -the camp with a report of the -enemy’s strength and disposition. -We reckoned there was at least a -whole German army corps attacking, -supported by endless bodies of -cavalry and ten batteries of guns, -besides hundreds of machine guns. -When we got back to camp we -found everything was in apple-pie -order for the fight. The men were -standing to their arms, and though -some of them were cursing a lot at -being roused from their sleep and -vowing what they would do to the -chuckle-headed pickets if it turned -out to be a false alarm, they were -ready to do their duty like men. -They hadn’t long to wait for the -Germans, who were really close on -our heels. On our way back we -had heard our artillery open fire -and saw the shells bursting along -the German lines. At the same -moment the Germans, who seemed -to realize that their surprise was -no surprise at all, opened fire with -their artillery right along the front, -and their searchlights were playing -all round like so many will-o’-the-wisps. -Their searchlights were -useful to us, because they enabled us -to see something of their strength -as they advanced. Soon we saw<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> -coming out of the inky darkness a -long line of white faces, and in -response to the quick order we fired -right into them. The first line -wavered for a moment or two, part -of it was blotted out, but the line -of reserves behind filled up the -gaps and the front line advanced -again, seeming not to heed the -heavy hail of bullets we were pouring -into them. Within about one -hundred yards of our trenches the -first line of advancing Germans -flung themselves flat on the earth, -fixing bayonets, while the second -fired over their heads, and yet a -third line was pushing forward men -to fill the gaps of the second line -where our fire tore through. Then -the first line rose and the second -fixed bayonets also. Finally, they -all came sweeping forward with the -bayonet and threw themselves right -on to our trenches. We poured -one terrible volley into them as -they came on, but all the devils in -hell would not have stopped them. -Our front ranks gave way slightly -before the fierceness of the attack -and the weight of men hurled at -them, but the recoil was only temporary. -We steadied ourselves, and -while they were standing still for a -moment to take breath and dress -their ranks for another rush we -went at them with the bayonet -and hurled them over the trenches -down the hill again. It was in this -rush that I got run through with -a bayonet, but as I lay on the -ground doing my best to forget the -pain in the exultation of victory, -I saw our lads chase them across -country in fine style, and I knew -from the cheers all along the line -that we were beating them back: -<i>A Sergeant of the Worcester Regiment</i>.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="Chap_VII" id="Chap_VII">VII. WHAT THE SOLDIER SEES</a></h2> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">On came the whirlwind—like the last</div> -<div class="i0">But fiercest sweep of tempest blast:</div> -<div class="i0">On came the whirlwind—steel-gleams broke</div> -<div class="i0">Like lightning through the rolling smoke;</div> -<div class="i6">The war was waked anew.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Sir Walter Scott’s</span>: “Waterloo.” -</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">With fire and sword the country round</div> -<div class="i2">Was wasted far and wide,</div> -<div class="i0">And many a childing mother then</div> -<div class="i2">And new-born baby died;</div> -<div class="i0">But things like that, you know, must be</div> -<div class="i0">At every famous victory.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Southey’s</span>: “The Battle of Blenheim.” -</p> - -<p>A daring German spy came into -the British lines dressed in the -uniform of a Scots Grey. He inquired -the whereabouts of the Scots -Greys; but his speech betrayed -him, and on being stripped he was -found to be wearing German underclothing: -<i>Pte. A. Prescott, 1st King’s -Liverpool Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Good Night</h3> - -<p>One night when I was out in -Belgium it came on to rain, and I -went home with a sergeant in the -Belgian Lancers and slept in a -lovely feather bed, and started off -again for my destination after -having a good breakfast and a -deep drink of rum and coffee: <i>A -Bombardier of the Royal Artillery</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Far View</h3> - -<p>We flew at 5000 feet, and saw -a sight which I hope it will never -be my lot to see again. The woods -and hills were literally cut to ribbons -all along the south of Laon. It -was marvellous watching hundreds -of shells bursting below one to right -and left for miles, and then to see -the German guns replying: <i>A -Member of the Royal Flying -Corps</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span></p> - -<h3>Brave Women</h3> - -<p>The French women seemed to -think that the best cure for shrapnel -or bullet wound was a bottle -of wine and a raw egg. After the -Wednesday fight the women brought -hot potatoes and new bread right -into the trenches and firing line. -I can assure you they are the bravest -women I have ever met: <i>Rifleman -Fisher</i>.</p> - -<h3>Fatherly</h3> - -<p>You would be surprised to see -the enthusiasm of the people here. -The little kiddies run towards you -and put their hands in yours, just -like my little kiddies at home. -You can see little boys doing -men’s work. I noticed one chap (he -would not be more than ten years -old) with a pair of horses, and he -was ploughing all on his own: <i>A -Private of the Royal Field Artillery</i>.</p> - -<h3>Proud Indeed!</h3> - -<p>I brought back on my lorry a -wounded bombardier, and when the -doctor told him that he would have -his right leg and an arm amputated -he did not seem to trouble a bit, -but went on chatting and joking -with us as if it were an everyday -occurrence. He is only eighteen -years old. As they were taking in -the ambulance he said, “It’s not -much to look forward to, but my -mother will be proud of me”: -<i>Corpl. Hollyer: Army Service Corps</i>.</p> - -<h3>Wilted!</h3> - -<p>With their front files dressed in -uniforms taken from the killed and -wounded of an English regiment, a -German corps attempted to surprise -an English battalion. As they approached, -the English commander, -becoming suspicious, gave the order -to fix bayonets, whereupon the -Germans shouted, “Nein, nein! -Leedle mistake! Ve vos not Shermans; -ve vos der Vilts.” The -British then charged with bayonets -and the Germans “wilted”: <i>A -Sergeant-Major, of Colchester</i>.</p> - -<h3>Enjoying Ourselves</h3> - -<p>Villages are nearly empty as we -come to them, cats, dogs, and a -few fowls being all that are left. -Doors are open and the dinner -things left on the tables, and -people crying. There is plenty -of fruit everywhere. The people -left give one anything, and are very -kind to us in every way. We are -really enjoying ourselves very much, -and take a very hopeful view that -the Germans will soon realize that -they have bitten off more than they -can chew: <i>Private G. Brown</i>.</p> - -<h3>Held Up!</h3> - -<p>In a village we passed through -the baker was working all night -making bread, and all the time he -was working the Germans were -standing over him with revolvers.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> -At a farm we passed the farmer -said they stole thirty of his racehorses. -These horses, of course, -would be no use to the Germans as -draught or saddle horses, and it is -not an unreasonable supposition -that they were commandeered for -food: <i>Pte. A. Forbes, Gordon Highlanders</i>.</p> - -<h3>Not So “Swanky”</h3> - -<p>Their prisoners aren’t near so -swanky as they were at first, when -they used to move about as though -the British soldiers weren’t fit to -be seen with. Now they’re glad -to fall into our hands, and if they -see the uniform at all they surrender -without further trouble. -They’ve all got Government news-sheets -containing all sorts of stories, -and they say that these are distributed -every day. Perhaps they -get them instead of grub, and if -that’s the case it would account for -the half-fed appearance of so many -of the prisoners: <i>Pte. Taylor, Rifle -Brigade</i>.</p> - -<h3>Undaunted</h3> - -<p>A few days ago I witnessed a -most exciting incident. A French -staff officer went up in an aeroplane -and the Germans opened fire on -him. Shots went wide at first and -then all around him. He didn’t -mind that, but turned about again -and once more ran the gauntlet. -Then the Germans started again, -but that didn’t stop him. He -turned once more and came back -before making off to headquarters -with information as to where the -Germans were: <i>Drill-Instructor -Anderson</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Rotten Luck”</h3> - -<p>We are all putting up in farms -on account of our horses being -under cover from the aeroplanes, -which have done a lot of damage. -The 9th had just got in from a -good hard day, when a big shell -came into their yard and killed ten -men and wounded four. Who would -have expected that, after getting -away from the firing line all safe? -Of course, they might have been -stray shells trying to find our -artillery. But then it is what you -may call rotten luck: <i>Pte. Robinson, -18th Hussars</i>.</p> - -<h3>Near Shaves</h3> - -<p>I saw some brave things done. -“Tanker” Gillespie endeavoured -three times, at great risk, to aid a -comrade who had been seriously -wounded. The first time he got up -a bullet grazed his head, and I saw -him rubbing it with rather comical -grimness, and then seizing hold of -his rifle, the barrel of which had -nearly all been blown away, and -firing; three or four shots at the -Germans. He tried a second time<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> -to reach his comrade, but again -had to duck, and the third time he -succeeded, only to find that the -poor fellow had died. In returning -to his place, “Tanker” was struck -by a bullet which took away some -of the hair on his head, and he had -to retire: <i>Pte. McMahon, Gordon -Highlanders</i>.</p> - -<h3>Custom!</h3> - -<p>German shell fire is not nearly so -effective shot for shot and gun for -gun as ours, in spite of all the fine -things they claim for it, and where -great accuracy in range is necessary -they are hopelessly out of it. Their -infantry can’t stand half the shelling -our men will put up with, and they -get awfully panicky under fire from -our guns. It is a favourite trick of -the Germans to keep a battery well -masked for hours, and then when -our infantry are deploying within -range, without the slightest notion -of what is coming, the German -shells begin to fall round like the -autumn leaves. That’s very trying -to the nerves, or was at first, but we -are now getting used to it: <i>Gunner -T. Wall</i>.</p> - -<h3>Buried and Burnt</h3> - -<p>There was one interesting sight I -saw as the column was on the march, -and that was a duel in the air between -French and German aeroplanes. -It was wonderful to see -the Frenchman manœuvre to get -the upper position of the German, -and after about ten minutes or a -quarter of an hour the Frenchman -got on top and blazed away with a -revolver on the German. He injured -him so much as to cause him -to descend, and when found he was -dead. The British buried the airman -and burnt the aeroplane: <i>A -Private of the 1st Royal Kent Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>“That Tired Feeling”</h3> - -<p>We are now getting into our -stride and beginning to get a little -of our own back out of the Germans. -They don’t like it at all -now that we are nearer to them in -numbers, and their men all look like -so many “Weary Willies,” they are -so tired. You might say they had -got “that tired feeling” bad, and -so they have. Some of them just -drop into our arms when we call on -them to surrender, as though it were -the thing they’d been waiting for -all their lives: <i>Lance-Corporal T. -Williams</i>.</p> - -<h3>Lucky Fellow!</h3> - -<p>It was a pitiful sight to see the -people fleeing from their homes -carrying all they could save. Our -soldiers are very kind to them, and -give them whatever they can spare—and -sometimes more than that. -I saw one young woman trying to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> -reach some fruit from a tree which -was a good way out of her reach, -and, not thinking, I went over and -gave her some pears which I had -given me. She ate them hurriedly, -but before doing so gave me a kiss -on both cheeks, which was rather -enjoyed by the rest of the troops -standing by: <i>Driver J. Brennan, -Army Service Corps</i>.</p> - -<h3>So Glad!</h3> - -<p>Oh, dear! I am pleased all my -good women live in England. Often -I see cottage homes a-smoke and in -flames. Villages, too! Dogs forlorn, -cats despondent on doorsteps. -And yesterday I saw three little -dots walking along the muddy road -with a tiny wheelbarrow. We -were, when we passed them, going -under cover from a severe shell -fire, whilst they were going in the -direction whence we were coming. -At present we are billeted in the -buildings about a huge water-mill. -The wooded hills are all around, -and the harvests seem all gathered -in about here. It is not so elsewhere: -<i>A Reservist of the Beds -Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>The Gallant Belgians</h3> - -<p>We are doing fine, and have -earned the name of the “Fighting -Fifth” again. We have heard that -some Hindus have come from India -to fight, and the public expect great -things from them; but you take it -from me, no matter how brave, how -fearless they may be, they will -never equal the brave little Belgian -people. What other race in the -world could have fought with more -courage and determination than -they when the German curs burnt -Louvain and committed the most -dastardly outrages? Who were -they who bit their lips to hide -their feelings, but who swore that -the Germans should pay for it—not -in the way the Germans made -the women and children suffer, but -by good lead and cold steel? The -Belgians! <i>Pte. A. Hayes, of Upper -Wortley</i>.</p> - -<h3>In the Dark</h3> - -<p>We had not gone three hundred -yards before the Germans fired on -us. We were between two farmhouses. -We were only about thirty -to forty yards off, and we didn’t -half give it them. We could hear -the wounded Germans moaning and -groaning, and it was awful to hear. -It was dark, and we fired low because -we knew that was the best -way to get them. Just then a piece -of shrapnel came through the peak -of my cap and grazed my nose. It -was a near thing, but I took no -notice of it and kept on firing. The -man next to me was then shot dead, -and our captain was shot slightly -in the head, but he continued to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> -give orders. A piece of my boot -was blown away, and I received a -piece of shrapnel in my right -shoulder, and consequently saw no -more of the fighting: <i>Pte. Brayshaw, -Guards Brigade</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Bold Battery</h3> - -<p>Half the horses of L Battery Royal -Artillery got smashed, and we had -to bung our poor old tired ones to -fill up. Only a few gunners were left, -but they stood by firing still and singing -“Onward, Christian Soldiers.” -Then the Germans charged, and -our gunners did a bunk, but not -before they had driven spikes into -the guns so as to make them useless -to the enemy. They said they -guessed they would get them back -in a day or two, and if they did -they could repair them easy enough. -The Germans don’t know these -tricks, and we can do them down -any time: <i>A Driver of the 4th -Ammunition Column</i>.</p> - -<h3>Before the Dawn</h3> - -<p>I was given a map, and a message -for my company officer. When I -had made my way in the dark to -where the outpost should have been, -I found it had retired. I went to -where I saw a picket posted, and -noticed a body of men. It was just -getting light, and I thought I saw -an English officer. I put down my -rifle and whistled. They immediately -dropped down and fired at -me. I dropped into the grass, too, -to bluff them into thinking I had -been “winged.” I crawled through -a big turnip field, and heard a -general action commencing. I could -hear people talking, but not loudly -enough to know whether they were -English. So I hoisted my cap upon -a stick and called, “Hullo, West -Kent!” Then shots came in my -direction, and, as it was getting -lighter, I decided, as the best thing -to do, to make for our big guns. -I crawled along the ground for -nearly two hours, and when I -stopped for a short rest a bullet -hit my right arm: <i>Corpl. Drinkwater, -West Kent Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>Rescued</h3> - -<p>In getting out of my trench I -fell back, so injuring my back that -I could not move. I lay there, -expecting every minute to be my -last, but it did not come. I took -a bold front and looked over the -trench to see what was happening -there. I saw that the Germans -had taken a sweeping curve to the -right, and I saw the tail of them a -long way off. They seem to be -driven along by their officers rather -than led, for the officers have their -swords drawn. I laid down in the -trench (my comrades had evidently -thought I was shot, as they took -no notice of me when I fell back<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> -into the trench) for two hours, -looking now and again to see if I -could see any signs of our men. -At last, after nearly giving up -hope, I saw a patrol of the 15th -Hussars, and managed to attract -their attention, and they put me -on a horse and carried me to a -French hospital in a village: <i>A -Private in the Royal Sussex Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>A “Jelly Fish”</h3> - -<p>I was ordered to remain behind -with the aeroplanes, one of which -was to go up early in the morning -and return, and I was to take reports -on to headquarters. The machine -had been gone half an hour when -rifle fire was heard, and we discovered -that a German aeroplane was flying -overhead. The officers got rifles, and -likewise myself, and stood up to -have a shot, but he went away, only, -however, to return. We allowed -him to get in range and then opened -fire. He came over the place where -we were lying down. I fired twenty-five -rounds and expected to have a -bomb dropped on us, when I saw he -was done. He made one dive and -landed in a heap behind us. On -examining him we found twelve -bombs, all of which had safety caps -and pins attached, luckily for us. -He had a lot of papers which I had -the honour to carry to headquarters. -The fall made him like a jelly fish: -<i>Private A. J. Davis</i>.</p> - -<h3>Cold—and Hot!</h3> - -<p>We had to climb up a big hill, and -then through a quarry, so that we -were fagged out and wet through -before we saw the enemy. When -we did get to the top they gave us -a good welcome with shot and shell. -It was so heavy it dug up the ground -in front of us, but we had to go on -and try to shift them. I saw some -sights up there, with one man down -after another. I expected the next -to be me, but I had determined that -I would keep my end up and do my -best, so I kept going on. Well, the -long and short of it was that we got -to them about tea-time, or what -should be tea-time. We found them -about sixteen to one, or that is what -I thought. We could not shift them, -but just as I thought we were getting -the best of it someone gave the -order to retire, which we did. -When we got back we found we had -lost all our officers, and nobody -could tell who gave the order to -retire, and the sun was then sinking. -It was in going back that I was -wounded. It is not a bad wound, -and you must thank God, as I have -done, that I got through at all: -<i>Pte. Clare, 1st Royal Lancashire -Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Knocked!”</h3> - -<p>When night came we knew where -the Germans were, so we crept out -of the trenches and went down to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> -the roadway. No sooner had we -got there than a great volley rang -out. We were in the midst of it, -and knew it was either the Germans -or us. So we at them. In the -struggle that took place I thought -of you and the children. I made a -jump at a German, but whether I -got him or not I don’t remember, -for I got such a terrible knock over -the ribs. It must have been with -the butt of a rifle. You talk about -getting your ribs bent. I got mine, -and more than that my appendix -got first. They thought at first -that it was a bullet wound, but -happily it was not, or I might not -have been here to tell the tale. I -was knocked into a “trap” trench -about eight feet deep, but I was -pulled out and carried eight miles -on horseback: <i>A Private of the -Gordon Highlanders</i>.</p> - -<h3>In a Château</h3> - -<p>Two hundred of us went into a -big château, where we were told we -would be quite safe, and we sat down -to a meal of tea and biscuits. We -were just in the middle of it when -a patrol of German cavalry scouts -discovered us, and as we were eating, -a shell struck the roof of the building, -smashing it into fragments. -Then there was the greatest excitement -as the men scurried out of the -building. As the shells were getting -very busy we lost no time in retreating -from that place, and took up our -position in a field about 200 yards -distant. There were a lot of wounded -around, and we were lying on a -slightly elevated ridge in the field. -We had only been a short time in -this position when we saw the -Somersets getting badly cut up. -We went to the assistance of the -Somersets, and succeeded in checking -the Germans’ advance. We -began to go forward and went at -them with the bayonet, when they -turned and fled. We were just -150 yards away when they packed -themselves into motor-cars that -were waiting on them and drove off, -but before they went we managed -to capture five of their machine -guns: <i>Pte. T. O’Dea, Seaforth -Highlanders</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Made Good!”</h3> - -<p>Our last action was the worst. -Men fell like corn before the reaper. -I tell you truly, I never expected to -get out alive. The Germans must -have lost thousands, but they were -ten to one, so we had to retire. -The shrapnel and hail of lead and -bullets—I see it all now, and I was -one of the last to leave the field. I -won’t say more, only I got a bullet -through my right leg, but still kept -on twenty yards or thereabouts. I got -a great piece of shrapnel shell in my -neck—laid me senseless. I came to -again, and, as if possessed, ran for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> -my life through it all and “made -good.” It’s wonderful how you can -run with a bullet through your leg. -I have not been long at it, but -fellows say that they saw more in -the last four days than they did in -three years in Africa. That’s the -truth. Ah, well! I’m not grumbling. -I’m not disfigured or maimed -like so many poor fellows, so let’s -rejoice over all. Some of our engagements -lasted thirteen hours, -and the last—and worst—ten hours. -So tired, must sleep: <i>A Lance-Sergeant -of the King’s Own Yorkshire -Light Infantry</i></p> - -<h3>A “Terrible Time”</h3> - -<p>We had a terrible time at Mons, -and for four days and nights we did -nothing but fight, and I should -think the Germans had three men -to every one of ours. On August 24 -we lost one hundred men in about -five minutes. We had a mile and a -half to gallop over open country -with as many as thirty shells a -minute bursting round us. How I got -out of it I do not know, for I had -not gone 200 yards before a shell -burst under my horse and killed it. -I was not touched, and I managed, -with a bit of luck, to get another -horse from a comrade who had been -killed. I am sure it was worse than -hell let loose, and I think I said -a prayer afterwards, but anyway I -shall soon be right now. The man -who was with me when I was -wounded is dead. He died as soon -as the search party found us. He -was shot twice in the stomach, -whilst I was shot in the thigh. I -crawled to him when he was dying, -but I could not help him as I was -in such agony myself. He gave me -his papers, and I gave them to the -officer when he rode up to us: -<i>Lance-Corpl. Potton, 18th Hussars</i>.</p> - -<h3>His True Colours</h3> - -<p>We had been entrenched two -days when a German spy was captured. -He spoke English as well -as I do, and shouted to me, “I -surrender, I surrender; take me -prisoner.” He was placed in a -corner of the trench, seven feet -deep, and was guarded. He soon -began to chatter, and told us his -history in such a plausible manner -that we believed him. He told us -he had been in private service as a -butler in Surrey and Sussex, and -also a waiter in hotels at Brighton, -Liverpool, and Manchester. The -devil actually cried when he pulled -out of his pocket the photo of a -girl he said he intended making his -wife when the war was over if he -was spared, and begged we would -not take it away from him. He -said she was a Lancashire lassie—he -could put on the north-country -dialect all right—and read portions -of a letter she wrote him when he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> -was called up. The traitor gave -us a lot of supposed information -about the Germans, and pretended -to be as wild as a March hare when -he spoke of their officers. They -were everything that was bad. I -must admit I thought the fellow was -genuine, and I gave him some of -my rations, but several of the others -had their doubts. He had been -with us three days when he showed -himself in his true colours. It was -pitch dark, and raining like cats and -dogs. He jumped out of the -trench and made a dash for the -German trenches, but he did not -get thirty yards away before he was -brought down. The next morning -we saw his dead body lying where -he fell: <i>Sapper A. G. Hutton, R.E.</i></p> - -<h3>A Barricade</h3> - -<p>We were just about five minutes -billeted in the various houses and -just stretching our legs when our -officer came running in shouting, -“The Germans are upon us; outside, -everyone.” We came out -magazine loaded, bayonets fixed, -and eager to get a good bayonet -fight with them. It appears they -do not like it, but we found none; -they had not yet arrived. It was -10 <span class="small">P.M.</span> before they did so. In the -meantime, the poor people were -leaving the town in crowds with as -much goods and chattels as they -could carry away, and it was well -for them, too. It was a dark night -when we formed up in the streets, -and the lamps but dimly burned. -The noises of rifles and field guns -were terrific. We rushed to the -heads of the various streets, where -our German foe would advance. -Our field artillery and the Coldstream -Guards went out to delay -their advance, whilst we stripped off -our coats and commenced to tear up -the square setts, gather carts—in -fact, everything that would build a -barricade to keep back our numerous -German foe, and we did so under -perfect showers of shrapnel shell -that fell around us and struck the -houses about us, but we were undaunted, -and so succeeded: <i>Private -Spain</i>.</p> - -<h3>Wounded and Waiting</h3> - -<p>The order came to retire to a -neighbouring haystack. How the -bullets flew about! Up I jumped, -and up the slope I ran. I soon -reduced the distance. Another 100 -yards to safety—80, 60, 40, 30, -15 yards. Oh, my left knee! I -dropped down flat, with my right -arm underneath my body, and my -left hand feeling if my leg was still -on. An officer ran by shouting -out, “Wounded, lie still.” I was -laid on my chest, and I could see -them coming, 200 yards behind -me. They did not put their rifles -to their shoulders, but fired from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> -the hips. Bullets were spitting in -the ground around me. “Should -I ever get out of this?” I thought. -Something seemed to say to me, -“Keep still, and you will be all -right.” On the Germans came to -within 100 yards of me, then 50 -yards, then 20 yards, then 10 yards, -and there they halted. They were -on the slope leading to the stack, -and after a short conversation two -of them came in my direction. -“Now for it,” I said to myself. -But no, they passed me and went -to the top of the hill. My arm -beneath my body was paralysed, -and I could feel the blood running -from my wound. Now and again -I could hear one of them shout out, -“Hoch, Kaiser!” and I said to -myself, “Hurrah for the King!” -Then I saw them fall in, and about -to turn. Thank God! off they -went: <i>Pte. Wood, Coldstream Guards</i>.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="Chap_VIII" id="Chap_VIII">VIII. HOW IT FEELS UNDER FIRE</a></h2> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">Lay the proud usurpers low!</div> -<div class="i0">Tyrants fall in every foe!</div> -<div class="i0">Liberty’s in every blow!</div> -<div class="i6">Let us do or die!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Robert Burns</span>: “Scots Wha Hae.” -</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">And man, whose heav’n-erected face</div> -<div class="i2">The smiles of love adorn,—</div> -<div class="i0">Mans inhumanity to man</div> -<div class="i2">Makes countless thousands mourn!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Burns</span>: “Man was made to Mourn.” -</p> - -<p>I must admit we were all a bit shaky -until we got properly stuck into it, -and then you feel in your glory. -You forget all fear, everybody full -of excitement. You hardly think of -your funeral: <i>Gunner J. Robinson, -Royal Field Artillery</i>.</p> - -<h3>Inconceivable!</h3> - -<p>People in England can have no -idea what it is like on a battlefield, -thousands of dead and wounded -lying about with nobody to help -them. After my pal and I got hit -we could hear the deadly shell on -its way, but could not move, and -had to lay for some time. My pal -had his foot blown off: <i>Gunner J. -Edgecombe, Royal Field Artillery</i>.</p> - -<h3>Gets Used to It</h3> - -<p>I shall never forget when the -first shot was fired. We soon got -used to it, and I was as anxious to -get at them as anyone else. It is -awful in action. I saw my two -chums shot down beside me, and -one of them said with his dying -breath, “Kill ten of those German -devils for me,” and I think I did: -<i>Pte. E. Mead, 19th Hussars</i>.</p> - -<h3>Gay to Grave</h3> - -<p>You must not take too much -notice of the reports of the soldiers -in the trenches singing as if they -had not a care in the world. I -heard more talk of religion—and -from men from whom you would<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> -least expect it—than any popular -songs! Some of the sights are -simply shocking—you could not -talk about them: <i>Private Pope</i>.</p> - -<h3>Encouraged</h3> - -<p>It was my first baptism of fire, -and I frankly confess that I thought -my time had come. It was a nerve-racking -experience. I said a prayer -to myself. But the fear soon wore -away, and I recognized that to save -my own skin I must beat the enemy. -We were also encouraged by the poor -marksmanship of the Germans: <i>Pte. -Gallagher, Royal Scots Fusiliers</i>.</p> - -<h3>Wondering!</h3> - -<p>We saw some terrible sights—women -and children cut up—and I -shall never forget until my dying -day some of the awful things I saw. -The firing was awful. I am not -much of a praying chap, but I -prayed when the shots were coming -thick about us. It was maddening -to see the fellows shot down right -and left, and wondering when it -would be my turn: <i>Pte. Sibley, 3rd -Worcester Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>Jubilant</h3> - -<p>War! How terrible the word -sounds, but our British spirit in us -makes us view things from the -bright side. I do not mean to -imply that the troops do not think -it a serious concern—far from it—but -all seem quite confident. When -under heavy fire there seems to -exist a jubilant sort of spirit, each -and all steady and ready to sacrifice -themselves for the honour of -England: <i>A Private of the Scottish -Rifles</i>.</p> - -<h3>Mad!</h3> - -<p>You feel pretty shaky going into -battle at first. When you are going -along the road and see dead lying -here and there and hear the groaning -of the wounded you do feel -rather queer, but once you see what -you are getting at, all that feeling -disappears and your one desire is -to get at them. In fact, when the -bullets begin to fly you turn mad -for the time being: <i>Pte. Lightfoot, -Cameron Highlanders</i>.</p> - -<h3>Know nor Care</h3> - -<p>You don’t realize that you are in -danger until some of the men around -you get knocked over by shells and -bullets, but afterwards you have the -feeling that you don’t care. You -know you have to be there, and you -don’t care a hang whether you get -knocked over or not. In a way you -are only too glad when you can get -to close quarters with the Germans. -As to the sensation caused by being -struck by a bullet, it is just like -being hit by a stone thrown at you: -<i>A Sergeant of the Irish Rifles</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span></p> - -<h3>An “Infernal Din”</h3> - -<p>Artillery fire is the deadliest thing -out, and it takes a lot of nerve to -stand it. The Germans keep up an -infernal din from morning until far -into the night; but they don’t do -half as much damage as you would -think, though it is annoying to -have all that row going on when -you’re trying to write home or make -up the regimental accounts. The -French seem to like the noise, and -don’t seem at all happy unless it’s -there. There’s no accounting for -tastes: <i>Sergeant J. Baker</i>.</p> - -<h3>Splendid but Awful</h3> - -<p>The order was given, “Retire! -Every man for himself!” It was a -splendid but awful sight to see -horses, men, and guns racing for -life with shells bursting among -them. The Germans rushed up, -and I lay helpless. A German -pointed his rifle at me for me to -surrender. I refused, and was just -on the point of being put out when -a German officer saved me. He -said, “Englishman brave fool.” He -then dressed my wound, and he -gave me brandy and wine and left -me: <i>Gunner B. Wiseman, Royal -Artillery</i>.</p> - -<h3>How It Happened</h3> - -<p>How I came to be wounded was -like this. I had got my bayonet -fixed in some fat German, and I -could not get it out in time, and -a German officer hit me over the -head with the butt of his revolver. -Of course I went down for the -count, and when I came round I -found I had stopped a stray shot -with my left foot, so I had to lie -among the German dead until it -became dark. Then I crawled to -the British lines three miles away, -and into hospital: <i>Pte. P. Rourke, -North Lancashires</i>.</p> - -<h3>Joe to Bill</h3> - -<p>You know, Bill, it looked hard -to see my old chums mowed down -like sheep.... After being under -shot and shell for seven hours, Bill, -I know what it is to be at death’s -door. You can bet your hat God -answered my prayer, for I asked -and He accepted. They were killed -on each side of me, and shells were -bursting front and back, but none -hit Joseph, so that was a Godsend. -What do you say? I know what -I think, Bill: <i>A Reservist of the -Lancashire Fusiliers</i>.</p> - -<h3>The Stuffing Wrong</h3> - -<p>“Never say die till you’re dead” -is the only motto for us in the -firing line, for every hour of the -blessed day you’re expecting to -have your head blown off by a -German shell, and you wonder how -on earth you managed to escape -every time it hits something else<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> -instead of you. Their shells make -awful havoc when they do burst, -but it is not so often as you would -think. There seems to be something -wrong with the stuffing of -them: <i>Engineer Hughes, Royal -Artillery</i>.</p> - -<h3>Guarded!</h3> - -<p>When you do drop asleep you -awaken suddenly and think you are -being fired at. Twice now while I have -been in battle, the man on my right -and on my left has been killed. -The last one next to me to be killed -was poor ——. He was asking me -where the enemy was when he got -shot in the arm. Then he got hit -in the stomach, and afterwards, -poor chap, in the chest. The man -on my right got hit, and then it -came my turn. It is strange that -the same thing should occur twice -running. God is guarding me all -right: <i>Sergt. Greeley, South Lancashire -Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Scamper</h3> - -<p>The whistle has just blown to get -under cover as there is an aeroplane -up. I have just spotted it. All -the fellows are running for shelter -so as not to be seen and give the -position away. I am inside the car, -a covered van body. The shells are -beginning to drop very close, so -we’ll have to make a shift for better -cover: they are screaming and -howling like some of those funny -fireworks, but you cannot see them -and don’t know where they are -going to land any minute. Our -guns are firing on the aeroplane, -but I’m afraid he is too high for -them to reach him: <i>Driver F. -Clarkson, Artillery Transport Service</i>.</p> - -<h3>Causes Deafness</h3> - -<p>A bullet struck the kit of Corpl. -Thompson, of the 3rd Worcesters, -and lodged in his canteen. Thompson -gave a grunt and thought he -was done for, but when the bullet -rattled inside the canteen he just -laughed and blessed his luck. It’s -a funny thing to go into battle for -the first time. There we were in -the trenches with rain falling heavily -all the time, bullets whizzing all -round us and shells—death-dealing -things—dropping everywhere. The -roar was deafening: in fact, I was -deaf for a week afterwards, and I -couldn’t tell what was shouted: -<i>Private J. Sibley</i>.</p> - -<h3>Twenty to One</h3> - -<p>We had no cover, and simply -walked into the German army, who -were about twenty to one. We -bayoneted and charged several -times. They shouted for mercy. -They can’t face steel. I think I -was just mad, and the rest were, -too, at seeing chums go under.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> -You simply don’t think about -yourself; all your thought is to -get at them. I felt right proud to -be a Britisher, especially a Cameron. -If I do go under, it will be fighting -with a rifle in my hand and like a -Britisher; but, at the same time, a -few Germans are already my victims: -<i>A Private of the Cameron -Highlanders</i>.</p> - -<h3>Under Difficulties</h3> - -<p>We got into a little hell yesterday -and all last night—a proper -warm corner. Shells bursting all -over and round us and bullets -whizzing about all over the place. -I had to take one of our wagons right -into the firing line. Our captain, -who was riding ten yards in front, -got blown off his horse. The battle -is still raging now. Heaven only -knows how it will end up. We -cannot hear ourselves speak. My -writing is very bad, but you must excuse -it as the very ground is shaking. -I have to take another wagon right -into the firing line in ten minutes’ -time: <i>A Corporal of the Royal Army -Medical Corps</i>.</p> - -<h3>Not Troubling</h3> - -<p>The Germans are an awful lot of -bad shots with the rifle, but they -are good with the artillery, and -that is where we have suffered most -of our losses. There have been very -few to speak of who have fallen -through rifle fire. To tell you the -truth, I do not seem sometimes as -though I was on a battlefield at all. -I go blundering along as if I was -on the dear old sea front at Bridlington, -and I find that is the best -way, for, as sure as I am living, the -less you think of it all the better. -We do our best, and trust in God. -You need not trouble much about -me, for I am as happy here as I am -at home. It is no use being otherwise, -and it is like being on guard -at home: <i>Pte. C. Gledhill, Coldstream -Guards</i>.</p> - -<h3>The Pictures!</h3> - -<p>Every morning we go within -300 yards of the place where the -shells are bursting. First you hear -the shell whistling about a quarter -of a mile away like a Gabriel horn, -and the nearer it gets the louder, -then it bursts like 120 tyres bursting -together. At first it frightened -the life out of me. I was digging -some potatoes in a garden, and one -burst about 200 yards away. I -left the potatoes and hopped it—I -did the fastest 100 yards on -record. When you hear a shell -coming it is best to lie flat—it’s -quite amusing to see everybody -drop to the ground. It reminds -one of the pictures: <i>Pte. Noel -Withers, Army Service Corps</i>.</p> - -<h3>Healing Nicely!</h3> - -<p>I got shrapnel in the face, and -it entered just by my eye and came<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span> -through my mouth, splitting my -face open and fracturing my jaw. -Lucky for me my sight is not gone. -My face is stitched up and healing -nicely, but I’m afraid I’m disfigured -for life. The beggars were not -content with that—they shot me -through the left forearm and fractured -the bone. I’ve got it in -plaster of Paris. I am glad to say -I am not in much pain now, and I -am as strong as an ox. I had to -leave everything on the battlefield, -including my pipe and the pouch -you gave me. Your photo, taken -at Paddington, I had in a waterproof -case with some more: <i>A -Private of a Field Battery</i>.</p> - -<h3>Dazed, but There</h3> - -<p>All the officers stood round us -the whole time, including one young -lieutenant who had only just joined -the battery from England, and was -under fire for the first time. The -captain was wounded, but he stood -up and cried out, “Go on, lads! -I’m not killed yet.” We went on. -But another hail of shells came, and -the captain fell. We all knew we -were in for it; but we cracked jokes -as we loaded and fired. One by -one the fellows went down. Those -left shook hands with one another, -and just said, “So long, old man!” -My chum at my gun bent down to -look through the aperture of the -gun shield. A shell came and -caught him in the forehead. He -tumbled up against me as he fell. -Then they got the shells on our -limbers. I can’t describe the sight -as our own shells exploded on the -spot. There were only ten of us -now. We had never received the -order to clear out, and we stuck it -dazed: <i>A Gunner of the Royal -Field Artillery</i>.</p> - -<h3>“A Mad Crew”</h3> - -<p>When I read in books or stories -of the coolness of men under fire I -thought somebody was blathering. -But after eight weeks of it, I can -say that no book has ever done -justice to the coolness of British -soldiers under conditions that would -try anybody. The night I was hit -we were just leaving the trenches -for an interview with some Germans -who were trying some of their fancy -tricks about our left. As we stood -up there was a ghastly shower of -bullets and shells bursting all round. -Into it we had to go, and as we -looked ahead one of our chaps said, -“I think we’ll have to get our greatcoats, -boys; it’s raining bullets tonight, -and we’ll get wet to the skin -if we’re not careful.” The men of -“C” Company started laughing, -and then they took to singing, “Put -up your umbrella when it comes on -wet.” The song was taken up all -along as we went into the thick of -it, and some of us were humming it -as we dashed into the German -trenches. The Germans must have<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span> -thought us a mad crew: <i>A Private -of the Irish Fusiliers</i>.</p> - -<h3>Saving a Battery</h3> - -<p>We were sent up to the firing -line to try and save a battery. -When we got there we found that -they were nearly all killed or -wounded. Our Irish lads opened -fire on the Germans, and you should -have seen them fall. It was like a -game of skittles. But as soon as -you knocked them down up came -another thousand or so. We could -not make out where they came from. -So all of a sudden our officer gave -us the order to charge. We fixed -bayonets and went like fire through -them. You should have seen them -run! As the firing line was at full -swing we had with us an officer of -the Hussars. I think he was next -to me, and he had his hand nearly -blown off by one of the German -shells. So I and two more fellows -picked him up and took him to a -place of safety, where he got his -wound cared for. I heard afterwards -that he had been sent home, -poor fellow: <i>Pte. Levy, Royal Munster -Fusiliers</i>.</p> - -<h3>Salt and Cigarettes</h3> - -<p>I am writing this under fire. -Every now and again a little message -from the Kaiser comes whizzing -in this direction, but no damage is -being done, and we don’t worry. -Bang! Another message. One of -the things I miss more than anything -else is a drop of milk for tea. -Would give 2s. for a tin of condensed -milk. Of course, most of the cattle -are moved miles away from any -battlefield, and consequently no milk -can be obtained. There is plenty -of fruit and vegetables. But now -and again we run short of certain -things. For instance, to-day we -have run short of salt, and consequently -our dinner was not quite the -success I anticipated. We made a -stew—1½ lb. of corned beef, potatoes, -beans, carrots, and pumpkin. -This did for three men. I was the -cook. To-night for tea we are -having bread, bacon, jam, and -cheese; but, sad to relate, I have -no cigarettes: <i>Private W. Rouse</i>.</p> - -<h3>Like an Electric Shock</h3> - -<p>I got five or six bullets in my -right thigh. The actual wounding -was not very painful—like an electric -shock. I fired for over an hour -afterwards, then crept to an old -barn, where my wounds were dressed. -There we had to stay two days -under shell-fire. Then they started -smashing the place up with shrapnel, -knocking the roof on the top -of us—without hurting us. We -were dragged out. It was night -before we could be taken in farm -carts to the field hospital. On Sunday -the “dirty pigs” shelled that, -though the Red Cross flag was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> -flying. It seems to be a favourite -game of theirs. We are well away -from the fighting line now, our only -danger being bombs from airships, -which we don’t fear. Our -biggest risk now is over-feeding. -We are quartered in the finest hotel -in Versailles. Crowds of French -people collect round the gates and -send us presents of flowers, tobacco, -and cigarettes, which are very welcome. -The people here think the -world of the English “Tommy,” -and nothing is too good or too -expensive to give him. All they -ask in return is a button or a cap-badge -“to keep as a souvenir of us”: -<i>Pte. Graham, Coldstream Guards</i>.</p> - -<h3>Given up Worrying</h3> - -<p>One of the coolest things I have -seen—and I have seen a few—was -an Engineer sergeant and two -assistants measuring a piece of the -river bank with the tape, and having -to lie down every few minutes to -dodge shells or extra-strong volleys. -The sergeant could not hear some -of the figures, so yelled out, “Don’t -let your voice be drowned by a ----- German gaspipe.” I assure -you that we think no more of -bullets and shells than of a cricket -ball sent down by a fast bowler. -In fact, I have felt more funk when ----- is in form at the wicket than -I have at a shell. This may sound -awful swank, but when you have -lived among shells and bullets for -a month it is a case of familiarity -breeding contempt. I believe I am -the funkiest, or at any rate the -most careful, chap in the regiment, -but I have long since given up -worrying: <i>A Private of the Bedfordshire -Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>Safe as Houses</h3> - -<p>The Germans watched until we -halted, and then let fly at us with -some shells. They killed about -fifteen and wounded about twenty-five. -One chap was blown to bits; -another got one right through his -cheek, and it was terrible to see us -after they had bunked. They did -not half let us have it. We all lay -flat down on our faces waiting every -moment for our turn to come. I -can tell you I thought my last day -had come then. Every time a shell -comes it makes a whistle and then -a bang, and not half a bang, too. -I can tell you it was a relief to -everybody, and they would sigh -after a bang if not hit. They -must have thought we had all gone -or been killed or wounded because -they stopped for a bit, and then -we started to dig ourselves in. Of -course we had to dig deep and well -underground so as to be out of shell -reach. We did not get any more -that day, but the next morning they -let us know it was time to get up -with some of their heavy gun shells. -We only got four wounded then, -but I can tell you I thought I had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> -got hit. One dropped about fifteen -yards in front of my trench, and it -lifted me up and dropped me with -such a bang that I thought I was -counted out. I felt all over me to -see what I had got, but no, I am as -safe as houses yet: <i>Sergt. T. L. Neal, -King’s Own Yorkshire Light Infantry</i>.</p> - -<h3>Stunned!</h3> - -<p>What gets at you is not being -able to come to close quarters and -fight man to man. As a fact we -see very little of the enemy, but -blaze away at the given range and -trust to Providence. For that -matter, we see very little of our -own fellows, and only know by the -ambulance men passing through our -lines what regiments are near us. -For hours we stick on one spot and -see nothing but smoke and something -like a football crowd swaying -half a mile off. We see all we -want of the German flying machines. -They are over our lines day and -night, and are so common that we -do not now take pot-shots at them. -The chances of hitting them are -about 100 to 1. We hate them, -because we know they are signalling -the position and range to their -artillery, which is awful. The -German rifle fire wouldn’t worry a -covey of partridges, but their shells -are hell. I was stunned by one a -week ago. It was a queer feeling, -and rather pleasant than otherwise. -It fell about six yards in front of -me, and I felt as if a rush of lime-kiln -gas had hit me. I fell forward, -and was carried to the rear, but -came to in about half an hour, -with no hurt whatever, except that -I had a tingling in my nose and -eyes, and a bad headache all day. -Other chaps say the feeling is the -same: <i>Pte. F. Burton, Bedfordshire -Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>His Fire Baptism!</h3> - -<p>It was the first time I had been -under fire, and for the first ten -minutes I felt a bit nervous, and so, -I think, all of us did; but it soon -wore off, and seeing our comrades -hit by shell seemed to stiffen us. -We could see the Germans lying in -their trenches more than 1000 yards -away: we could see their helmets, -which showed up like a lot of mushrooms. -While we were still digging -our trenches the enemy began to -advance; and some of our cavalry -to our rear came through us to -attack the enemy. The Lancers, -however, were met by a tremendous -rifle and machine-gun fire, and -mown down; and they retired -through us, followed by the Germans, -who came on yelling with -fixed bayonets. The regiment who -were next us on our right digging -themselves in, got caught, I fancy, -for I saw some of their men -tumbling out of their half-finished -trenches in their shirt-sleeves without -their rifles. We were ordered<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span> -out of our trenches to meet the -advancing Germans, who, firing -from the hip, and with fiendish -yells, were evidently intending to -rush us. They were coming on in -dense blocks—blocks which were -probably companies—in <i>échelon</i>, but -when they saw us come out of -our trenches with our bayonets -fixed they didn’t like it, and most -of them turned and ran. Some of -them, however, came on, and I saw -one man single me out and come -for me with his bayonet. He made -a lunge at my chest, and, as I -guarded, his bayonet glanced aside -and wounded me in the hip; but -I managed to jab him in the left -arm and get him on the ground, -and when he was there I hammered -him on the head with the butt-end -of my rifle. I think I had become -a bit dazed, for I did not see my -battalion, only a few dead and -wounded lying on the ground: <i>A -Private of the Yorks Light Infantry</i>.</p> - -<h3>Smoke—and Fire!</h3> - -<p>We got down a slope in some -way, and thought we were practically -safe. In fact, I stopped behind the -rest to light my pipe, when suddenly -from a wood on our right a terrible -rifle and machine-gun fire opened; -I couldn’t for the moment realize -what had happened, but when I saw -our chaps dropping (whether shot -or taking cover I couldn’t then tell), -I thought it was time for yours -truly to drop, which I promptly -did. I was, however, all on my -own, down among some young -cabbage plants, and I couldn’t see -a soul. Bullets hit up the earth in -my face, and the cabbage leaves -were perforated in no time. I -started to bang away at the enemy -for all I was worth, and continued -till I had only five cartridges left. -I resolved to save these, and expected -every moment for the enemy -to charge. I am utterly unable to -describe my feelings, but you can -take it from me I thought my last -moment had arrived. It seemed -impossible I could be missed by -that stream of Maxim fire, but at -last, thank goodness! a British -battery noticed our predicament. -They galloped into position and -fired from behind us. The noise -of their first shell seemed like a -voice from heaven, and as they got -range and poured in more shells, the -German fire slackened. Then I -caught sight of some of our chaps -racing for a ditch to my left. I -made up my mind to chance it. -I sprang up, grabbed my things, -and raced for my life. I reached -that ditch on the point of exhaustion -and fell into a foot of mud -and water. What a relief! One -of our chaps had been shot dead in -the ditch. With three or four -others I crawled about two hundred -yards till we gained the roadside<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> -and temporary safety: <i>Sapper Clift, -Royal Engineers</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Punched!”</h3> - -<p>I felt as if someone had punched -me in the back. A regular Jack -Johnson it was, and I went flat on -the ground. There I lay for about -twelve hours. Then an officer came -by and wanted to know where I was -hit. I told him, and he said the -best thing I could do was to lay -there for a bit. Then I found that -there was a man on each side of me, -quite dead, so I felt quite comfortable -with them. Night fell and I -must have dozed off, for when I woke -up it was stone dark, and I could -hear the wounded Germans crying -out in agony. I felt like it myself, -for I had been lying on my stomach -all the time, and it never stopped -raining. I happened to raise my -head, and I saw a large fire about -500 yards away, and I thought if I -could get beside it I should feel -better. I tried to get up, but I -could not. In the end I had to -crawl over the dead body on my -right, and I crawled on my stomach -for 500 yards till I came to the -fire. When I got there I must have -fainted, for when I came round it -was just getting light. Then I -heard voices. I called as much as -I could, and they heard me. I saw -it was the Northampton outpost. I -had nearly gone off again when they -picked me up. When they moved -me I knew the bullet had gone -through my lung. They took me -to the hospital and dressed my -wound: <i>Pte. H. L. Hook, Royal -Sussex Regiment</i>.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="Chap_IX" id="Chap_IX">IX. CORNERS IN THE FIGHT</a></h2> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i24">Deeds</div> -<div class="i0">Above heroic, though in secret done,</div> -<div class="i0">And unrecorded left through many an age.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Milton’s</span> “Paradise Regained.” -</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">Who, doomed to go in company with pain,</div> -<div class="i0">And fear, and bloodshed, miserable train!</div> -<div class="i0">Turns his necessity to glorious gain;</div> -<div class="i0">This is the happy warrior; this is he</div> -<div class="i0">Whom every man in arms should wish to be.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Wordsworth’s</span> “Character of the Happy Warrior.” -</p> - -<p>An amusing thing was to hear an -officer of the Royal Irish shouting -at the top of his voice, “Give ’em -hell, boys, give ’em hell!” He -was already wounded in the back -by a lump of shrapnel, but it was -a treat to hear him shouting: <i>Pte. -R. Toomey, Royal Army Medical -Corps</i>.</p> - -<h3>Footsore</h3> - -<p>I pinched a German’s “bike” and -tried to escape, but could not. So -some Belgian people gave me civilian -clothes, and a Belgian soldier, also -a prisoner, helped me through the -German patrols, and by a miracle -I escaped. I am footsore with -walking in a pair of boots three -sizes too big for me: <i>Pte. V. Cohen, -R.A.M.C.</i></p> - -<h3>Couldn’t Miss</h3> - -<p>The Germans rushed at us like a -crowd streaming from a cup-tie at -the Crystal Palace. You could not -miss them. Our bullets ploughed -into them, but still on they came. -I was well entrenched, and my rifle -got so hot I could hardly hold it. -I was wondering if I should have -enough bullets when a pal shouted, -“Up, Guards, and at them!” The -next second he was bowled over with -a nasty knock on the shoulder. He -jumped and hissed, “Let me get -at them”: <i>Private Whittaker</i>.</p> - -<h3>What Ho!</h3> - -<p>When we copped the German -infantry without their artillery we -gave them “What Ho!” Our<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span> -boys were fine marching on, or in -the firing line, always happy. One -night in the trenches, waiting for -the Germans, they were singing -“It’s a long way to Tipperary” -and “Sing something Irish to me,” -but it was not long when the German -artillery sang “Get out and -get under.” They sent some “humming -birds”—I mean shells—over -to us and spoiled our concert: -<i>Private P. McGrath</i>.</p> - -<h3>Grand Fighting</h3> - -<p>We saw some grand fighting -between our aeroplanes and theirs. -You could see them circle round -each other like a couple of fighting -cocks—and then one would come -down. One aeroplane was brought -down with our guns. We had had -several pot-shots at it, but they did -not take effect. The first shot from -one of our aerial guns brought it -down, a mass of blazing wreckage. -We were told afterwards that the -airman got away and was unhurt: -<i>Pte. J. Doolan, Northumberland -Fusiliers</i>.</p> - -<h3>Swept Away</h3> - -<p>Near to Cambrai one of our -cavalry regiments ran full tilt into -a battalion of German infantry. -They flung down their rifles and ran -for all they were worth, with the -exception of one company, whose -officers commanded them to stand. -They faced round without attempting -to fire a shot, and stood there -like statues to receive the onslaught -of our men. Our lads were bound -to admire their iron discipline, but -you can’t make way for sentiment -in war, and our men rode straight -at them with the lance. They were -swept away, and our fellows took -most of the unwounded ones prisoners: -<i>Trooper E. Tugwell</i>.</p> - -<h3>Giving a Hand</h3> - -<p>I have to go right up to the -firing line, and when I arrive there I -have to give a hand at serving the -guns. It is dangerous work, but -we don’t look at it from that standpoint: -we only look to make the -enemy run. At the first battle in -which the British were engaged I -got a flesh wound, but was very -thankful it was nothing worse, as -scores of my comrades were falling -all round me. One of our gunners -was so anxious to see the enemy -that he jumped up to look, and got -part of his leg shot away as a result: -<i>A Salvationist serving as a -Royal Field Artillery Motorman</i>.</p> - -<h3>Came Down Dead!</h3> - -<p>I saw a fine “scrap” in the air -between a British and a German -aeroplane. The British airman can -move about quicker and has a much -greater speed. This is partly due -to the fact that the German<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> -machines are armoured underneath. -The English airman got above the -German, and they had a fight for -about a quarter of an hour. Our -man emptied his revolver into the -German, who kept trying to get out -of his way, but could not owing to -the Englishman’s speed. The German -then seemed to plane down in -good order, but when he got to the -ground he was dead: <i>Pte. Herman, -King’s Royal Rifles</i>.</p> - -<h3>Fisticuffs</h3> - -<p>I was in South Africa, and that -was a jolly beanfeast to what this -is. I have been all day soaked to -the skin, standing knee-deep in -water. Sometimes all is quiet, -then shot and shell come down like -rain and men drop out all around -one; but we English Tommies know -how to shoot, and that is more than -the Uhlan does. We came to fists -with them once, and we know more -about that also. I downed three -with my fist, and I believe I stuck -four with my bayonet before I got -shot. Our officers are simply grand. -They work with us, and one pulled -me out of the trench when I was -wounded and carried me a little -way back: <i>Pte. J. Hesselop, Essex -Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>Not to be Shot</h3> - -<p>I got hit by three bullets in -about a minute. One went through -my cap, one smashed the magazine -of my rifle, and one flattened five -rounds of ammunition in my belt. -Nearly all my company wanted to -shake hands with me, telling me -that I am the luckiest man in the -war. I think it was a record myself. -They wanted to keep the cap, ammunition, -and magazine, but I am -keeping them myself to show you -when I come home. So you see -I am not to be shot with rifle -bullets. At least, that is what they -say here, and I think so myself: -<i>Pte. W. Hinton, 1st East Lancashire -Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>Promoted Corporal</h3> - -<p>There is one thing I am glad to -say, that I have fulfilled my undertaking -by killing I don’t know how -many Germans, as they fell before -me like broken eggs. I was promoted -to full corporal for sticking -it out in my blockhouse for seventy-three -hours without anything to eat -or drink, only firing away all the -time at the savages, as this is what -I call them. I was given a hearty -cheer when the General shook hands -with me and congratulated me on -my pluck, and not forgetting the -men that were with me in the blockhouse. -There were four killed and -myself and two more wounded—seven -altogether, so I will say no -more, but will write again soon. -Give my love to all. Good-bye, -from your loving son, Bert: <i>Corporal -B. L. Prince</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span></p> - -<h3>Uhlans or Hussars</h3> - -<p>Now, directly we see the Uhlans -or the Prussian Hussars we make -for them. We have galloped for a -mile to get at them. Once they -drew us on to the fire of their -infantry. We were only two -hundred yards away when they -fired on us, but at the pace we were -going very few were hit. At one -time we were in line, and then in -<i>échelon</i>, and after a short hand-to-hand -fight many surrendered, whilst -others made off, the machine guns -accounting for many. The German -cavalry have excellent mounts, and -the horses appear to be well trained. -Somehow the men haven’t got the -same grit as our chaps. When -they hear our yells as we get into -the stride, and they see the glint of -our swords, they turn pale, and if it -wasn’t for their officers they would -bolt each time: <i>A Cavalryman of -General de Lisle’s Brigade</i>.</p> - -<h3>Soon be Better</h3> - -<p>I was in the firing line, and my -mate next to me had one of his -fingers shot off and a bullet through -his head. How I got hit, I was -bandaging his head up. I was -caught in the neck just below the -jaw, and the bullet came out of my -mouth. It knocked all my teeth -out on the left-hand side, and went -through my tongue and lip. I ran -about a mile and a half before I -could get it done up. The doctor -said I was a very lucky chap to be -alive. I can hardly speak or eat. -Dear mother, do not let this upset -you. I shall soon be better: <i>Corpl. -Emery, Royal Lancashires</i>.</p> - -<h3>In Luck!</h3> - -<p>We were guarding a road where -it was expected they would retreat; -and they did. The first lot that -came along was a Maxim limber. -I accounted for the driver about -400 yards away, off the left -shoulder, and someone else accounted -for his mate, but still the -horses came galloping along towards -our ranks, so I thought I would try -my arm at stopping them. I did, -and got well repaid, for I took them -into a farm close by, lifted the German -wounded off, and went through -his kit. I found a clean change of -washing—badly needed, for we had -not had a change since we left -Chelsea—and something more: a -bottle of champagne, three loaves -of bread, six pots of jam, and a -rabbit; so you can bet I backed a -winner: <i>Private J. Stearn</i>.</p> - -<h3>Mighty Cool</h3> - -<p>Both the French and the British -troops display marvellous coolness -under fire, but I think the biscuit -for coolness ought to go to the -battalion of infantry of the French -line which we found eating its<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> -breakfast by the roadside under a -heavy German fire last week. In -our own regiment it’s not unusual -to see men playing cards under fire -while waiting for the order to -advance. I know of a case where -one of our chaps was just going to -win the trick when the Germans -sent along a shell that hit every -man of the card party, killing one -and wounding three. When one -was being taken off on a stretcher -he called out, “It was the Germans -won that trick”: <i>Private R. -Duffy</i>.</p> - -<h3>Three Times</h3> - -<p>I have had occasion to thank God -three times for as many escapes -from death. The first was when -we were forced back by artillery -fire. A shell fell right under my -horse, but failed to explode, being -probably what is called an over-timed -shell. Anyway, it was an -escape! The next time was when -we were shelled out of a village. -My horse was grazed by a fragment -of shrapnel and lamed, and a sharpshooter -missed me, but the bullet -went through my rifle-bucket and -flattened itself on the nozzle of my -rifle. The third time was when we -had a most trying time in a village -and were bombarded by eight German -guns. The houses were demolished -like packs of cards, but -Providence looked after us, and -after six hours of mental agony we -had to retire one by one across a -pontoon bridge; the other bridge -had been blown up by the Germans: -<i>A British Cavalryman</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Marvellous Escape</h3> - -<p>I was posted in a house, with -about twelve others, firing on the -enemy, when the house was shelled, -and fell in on us. It was a marvellous -escape for all of us. I can -just remember falling through the -roof; but I am more than pleased -to tell you I was not hurt—only -shaken up a bit. Two days after -we had another go: then the shells -were bursting all round us; but we -managed to get over that with very -little loss. We had another go -about a week later. My company -was ordered to go in a wood to try -and capture some German snipers. -No sooner had we entered the wood -when the bullets started singing -all round us. I had one go right -through my cap, and it cut my hair; -I have still got the hat, and if I am -spared I am going to bring it home -with me as a memento: <i>Pte. Marsh, -1st Bedfordshire Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>Warm Work</h3> - -<p>The warmest bit of work I was -ever in was when I was injured. -Some seven or eight of us and about -the same number of Hussars were -on patrol in a village. We had -dismounted, and were talking over<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> -matters when quite unexpectedly -some shrapnel shells burst over our -heads and brought down some of -the cottages. Our officer hurried -up to us and ordered us to mount -and retire. When we had all -mounted he shouted, “Gallop -away; every man for himself!” I -just remember being hit in the left -thigh first. At the same moment -the old mare seemed to falter a -little. The enemy had our range -to a yard, and again and again the -shells burst among and above us, -bringing some of the fellows down, -man and horse. Then something -struck me in the right hip, but we -kept on, and after five or ten -minutes’ ride we came on our own -regiment dismounted for action. I -think about seven or eight of us -got through: <i>A Private of the -12th Lancers</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Breath-stoppers”</h3> - -<p>There was a farmhouse up the -hill, and from this a Maxim gun -was pouring out a continuous stream -of little “breath-stoppers.” The -British fixed bayonets and charged -the house. On the farm were found -about a score of the enemy, who -made absolutely no resistance. On -the contrary they laughed, and were -thankful it was all over and that -they were safe. On searching the -bushes it was found that several of -the enemy had taken refuge—some -were dead and others wounded. -One feigned having been shot, but -after being carried down the hill -by a British soldier and finding he -was safe, he was all right. He -confirms the stories that have come -to hand from many sources that the -Germans fear the British bayonet: -<i>Pte. V. Wells, Worcestershire Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>Ghostly!</h3> - -<p>One night we were lying quietly -in some woods when we heard the -rattle of hoofs all along the road -making enough noise to wake the -whole dead in all the graveyards of -the world. There was a regiment -of the Kaiser’s pets, the Uhlans, -coming along as lively as larks on -a summer morning. We waited for -them at the bend of the road, just -close to the cemetery, and when we -crashed into them I think they -imagined we were ghosts. Very -tough we were, to be sure, and a -ghost that feels for your ribs with -a lance at midnight is an ugly customer -to deal with. Those chaps -didn’t half howl with rage and fear -when we went into them, and as -soon as they could turn their horses -they were off down the road like -blue murder. We captured half of -them, and cut up the rest: <i>Sergt. -Diamond, of the Lancers</i>.</p> - -<h3>Blue with Lead</h3> - -<p>There is no doubt about the -personal bravery of the Germans.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> -I saw a file of them coming down a -slight hillock, and twenty or so were -hit and toppled down over each -other, exactly the same as ninepins. -The wonderful thing is that any of -us came out of it alive. As I looked -up from the trenches, the sky was -blue with flying lead. After the -fighting had gone on for five hours -a bullet passed through the lobe of -my left ear, and, after scarring the -back of my neck, tore a piece off -my coat collar, which was up at the -time. The same bullet killed the -man behind me. I felt myself -growing faint, and gave my name -and the name of my mother to my -mate next to me, and then I seem -to have fainted. When I recovered -consciousness my mate was dead: -<i>A Sergeant of the South Lancashire -Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>Don’t Mind!</h3> - -<p>It was butchers’ work. We just -rained shells on the German gunners -until we were deaf and choking. -I don’t think a gun on the position -could have been sold for scrap iron -after we had finished, and the German -gunners would be just odd -pieces of clothing and bits of accoutrement. -It seems swanky to -say so, but once you get over the -first shock you’ll go on chewing biscuits -or tobacco when the shells are -bursting all round. You don’t seem -to mind it any more than smoking -in a hailstorm. Then you get -pulled up with a jerk when your -mate on the left curls up in a heap. -War is rotten, but you can even -get used to working in a candle-factory. -We hated smells more -than we did the Germans: <i>An -Artilleryman</i>.</p> - -<h3>Not Much Left</h3> - -<p>One night after a very hard day -in the trenches, when we were wet -to the skin, we had lighted fires -to dry our tunics, and were at it -when we heard firing along our -front, and then the Germans came -at us like madmen. We had to -tackle them in our shirt-sleeves. It -was mainly bayonet work, and hard -work at that. They were well supported -by cavalry, who tried to ride -us down in the dark, but we held -our ground until reinforcements -came, and then we drove them off -with a fine rush of our cavalry and -infantry. At one point there was a -fine race between our battalion and -one of the Lancer regiments as to -which should get at the Germans -first. We were handicapped a bit -because we hadn’t horses, but we -won in the end, and charged right -into the German hordes with the -bayonet. After that the Lancers -came up, and there wasn’t much left -for anybody else when the Germans -were done with: <i>Private A. -Tims</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span></p> - -<h3>One More River</h3> - -<p>We got our orders early in the -morning to get across the Aisne, -and we had to turn out early. It -was very cold, and there was a -heavy rain; but we got our pipes -set a-going, and we were all right -then. When we got up the river -the fun began. There were no -bridges, but the Engineers had made -some rafts. Six men got on each -raft, and with the burden we were up -to the knees in water, and we were -hauled across to the other side by a -rope. When we got to the other -side we got it hotter than ever. -Some time after this three of us -were lying in a field. I was smoking -my pipe, and my chum was puffing -at a cigarette. The man next my -chum hadn’t a match, and wanted -a light badly, and he got up to get -a “touch” from my chum. As -soon as he rose the poor beggar was -hit with a shell and killed: <i>Pte. -Hamish, King’s Own Scottish Borderers</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Revolver Story</h3> - -<p>In the mad rush through the -village Dodds was also shot badly -in the leg, and the poor horse, -which was carrying us two, was -brought down. The result was that -the two of us fell helpless to the -ground, and we were immediately -surrounded by a crowd of Germans, -who yelled and acted like a lot of -savages. We saw them tearing -practically every bit of clothing -from one of our poor chaps who -had been killed, and in my own -case they stripped me of everything -but my trousers and shirt. They -took from me the revolver that I -had taken from a German officer, -and one of them was about to strip -me of my shirt when a funny thing -occurred. I often laugh when I -think of it. When I was looking -up and trying to think as little as -possible about my arm, who should -stand above me but the captured -German officer whose guard had -been killed. He said, “You are -the man who took my revolver. -Let me have it back instantly.” -I said that I had not got it, and -that one of his own men had -relieved me of it. “Then come -with me,” he said, “and find the -man who took it, and I shall have -him shot.” I went around with -him as a matter of form, but I was -not having any: <i>Lance-Corpl. M. -Nolan, Royal Scots Greys</i>.</p> - -<h3>At the Fords</h3> - -<p>The fiercest fighting took place -when the Germans tried to force a -passage of the river at various -points. As they came up the fords—every -one of which was commanded -by our artillery and bodies -of picked French and British riflemen—they -were galled terribly by -the rifle fire, and we kept plugging -them with shells as fast as we could.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> -For a while it didn’t seem to be of -any use, for as one man fell another -stepped forward to take his place, -but he only struggled on a few -yards before falling in his turn -before the hellish fire we poured on -them. They had evidently made up -their minds to get the pontoons into -position regardless of cost in lives. -The first party got theirs in position -nicely, and then came rushing -across like a swarm of bees rushing -out of their hives to see what was -wrong. A shell from a French -battery hidden on our left dropped -right on to them, and the thing -went toppling into the river with -its human load, being carried downstream -under a heavy rifle and -shell fire. The same thing went -on the whole day, until we were -sick of the sight, and mists of -blood were floating before our eyes, -and the cries of the drowning and -dying men were always ringing in -our ears. That was the daily programme -as I saw it until I got hit -and was sent home. Only at one -point did they manage to cross the -river, and then they had to face a -bayonet charge from the Allies’ -infantry, who rushed on them with -rare joy and hurled them back into -the river: <i>A Driver of the Royal -Artillery</i>.</p> - -<h3>War—and Peace!</h3> - -<p>It was a jolly hot shop. A lot -of the chaps of the section of —— -Battery were wounded. I cannot -explain everything, only when those -shells were bursting all around us -and over us, and the rifle and -machine-gun bullets were dropping -and whizzing round us, a lot of us -thought of home and other things. -We had to man-handle our guns out, -while the other batteries drew their -fire. We had one officer left. We -were complimented by the colonel, -who repeated General French’s and -General Gough’s orders that they -were proud of us for the cool and -brave way in which we worked the -gun under heavy fire. Our colonel, -poor old chap, nearly cried. He -said: “Needless to say, lads, I am -proud of you too,” and he walked -away. He could not say any more. -I don’t want to be in another action -like that. The prettiest sight I saw -out here was one hot day when -we were retreating. We were all -paraded, tired and hungry. We -went through a little village. At -the end of the village there was a -little convent, and the nuns in their -long grey uniform and white headdress, -with crucifix hanging on their -breast, were distributing wine and -fruit to us as we marched through. -They were lovely little women; -and the way they came out went -straight to my heart. They looked -so good, pure, and holy. It is a -picture I shall always remember: -<i>Gunner Osborne, Royal Horse Artillery</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span></p> - -<h3>Hard Going!</h3> - -<p>I was on patrol duty the other -day. I can’t tell you the name of -the place, but there was a chum -of mine, an officer, and myself. We -met five German Uhlans going -down the road. They were in -front of us, so we got on the grass -on the side of the road and galloped -right on top of them. They saw -us when we were about eight yards -away. They tried to get away from -us, but we were into them. Our -officer got the first one with his -sword, and as the German fell out -of the saddle the officer’s horse fell -over him. That left me and my -mate for the other four. Even -then they would not face us. All -the better for us. I got the next -fellow. I put my sword right -through him, and my mate did the -same with another. Then we went -after the other two. Both of us -got up to one of them at the same -time, and he got both swords -through him. He did try to defend -himself, for he got me on the lip -with his lance and knocked two of -my teeth out and took a piece out -of my lip. It was not much, but -he will never take any more pieces -out, for he got both our swords -into him. While we were trying -to draw our swords out the last of -the Uhlans got off his horse and -tried to escape in the woods. I fell -off my horse in my haste trying to -get up to shoot him. All the same -I shot him through the head, and -he was as dead as a door-nail when -I got up to him: <i>Private M. -Ferguson</i>.</p> - -<h3>Connaught Rangers</h3> - -<p>The dear old Rangers have had -their fair share of the fighting. -Still, they’re ready for as much -more as the Germans want, and -it won’t be our fault if every man -of ours that has gone to face his -Maker with an unshriven soul hasn’t -at least a dozen German trash to -keep him company. There’s a lot -of talk about the disloyalty of the -Irish people, but, sure, when it -comes to the bit, and England -needs soldiers to fight for her, she -knows she can rely on the Irishmen. -There’s not a man in the Rangers -would let any German trample on -the Union Jack, no matter what his -views about Home Rule and the -need for making England recognize -our right to nationality. The -Rangers have lived up to their -character as fine fighters, and they -have been in some very hard scraps, -you may be sure. One day we were -sent to help a battery of our artillery -that had got into difficulties, -and was like to be carried off by -the Germans. There was little time -to spare, as the Germans were -pressing hard on both flanks, and -there was fear we might be cut off -if we didn’t get on the move. We -rushed at them with the bayonet<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span> -at the double, and swept them -away like the dust goes before the -wind. It was hard fighting, and -many of us got hit, but our charge -made it easy for the guns to be -got away in safety: <i>Private P. -O’Hanlon</i>.</p> - -<h3>The Best of It</h3> - -<p>They were in front of us before we -had time to entrench ourselves, and -we had to make the best of what -cover we could find in a country as -level as Glasgow Green. Still, we -made the best of it, and the Germans -were far from getting it all -their own way. They came on us -in swarms, but we sent them back -time and again, and if it had not -been for their shrapnel we could -have been peppering them yet. As -it was, we were suddenly alive to -the fact that there was a trenchful -of them lying quiet just in front of -us, waiting to catch us on the retreat, -and it was with a demoniacal howl -we received the order to charge. It -was a charge with the pipes playing -for all they were worth, and you -could hear the roll of the kettledrums -above the sound of the firing. -Our men bayoneted all who could -not get out of the trench, about -600 of them; and the Middlesex -Regiment got in on all who ran. -It was a bloody fray, no quarter -being asked nor given, and as we -returned to our first position we -were satisfied that we had given -much more than our enemies expected -from us: <i>Pte. A. M‘Nally, -Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders</i>.</p> - -<h3>Charge of the London Scots</h3> - -<p>We took up a position allotted -to us, and just when we had settled -down to it a staff officer came along, -and we were told we were going to -have a chance of showing whether -we were “show” soldiers or the -real thing. We could have yelled -for joy.... After covering a -short distance we were sent across -the fields in open order. We found -some of our cavalry dismounted and -holding a line of trenches quite -close to the Germans. Just then -we came under fire from the rifles -and the machine guns. It was a -bit unnerving at first, and some of -our chaps didn’t like it, but we -pressed steadily on, taking advantage -of every bit of cover. It was -a matter of lying down every few -minutes, and then rushing forward -a few yards, until we came right up -to their trenches. As we got close -the German rifle fire ceased almost, -and we saw their infantry stand up -in the trenches to receive our attack. -I must say they struck me as being -game chaps, and after what I had -heard about their fear of the bayonet -I was a bit surprised. We were now -near enough to see the fierce glare -in the eyes of the enemy as they -waited for us. We gave them one -great volley and then bayonets were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span> -fixed, and in a long line we charged -down on their trenches. The madness -of that charge I shall never forget. -There was no time to think of fear -or danger. We were mad drunk -with the excitement. The blood -was coursing in our veins at express -speed, and our only thought was to -close in the death-grip with the foe. -Some of our boys yelled out “Scotland -for ever!” and others were as -silent as the grave. Their lines -were strengthened at every point, -and they made a great stand against -us, but we were fresh, and we slashed -right and left with a will. They -weakened after the first shock, and -gradually fell back, fighting inch -by inch, but each step we forced -them back, their pace became -quicker, and then they broke into -a mad race for life: <i>A Member of -the London Scottish</i>.</p> - -<h3>Beside a Windmill</h3> - -<p>The hardest fight, in my opinion, -took place around a block of farm -buildings, with a windmill in the -centre and cattle quietly grazing -close by. There was a Franco-British -force of not more than 800 -bayonets in possession, and near by -some British cavalry were posted. -Under cover of darkness the Germans -made a sudden sweep round -the position, threw back the cavalry -after a hot fight, and had the little -force completely cut off from headquarters. -They brought up artillery -and began to batter down the -walls of the buildings, and when -they had made a big gap in the -wall of the stable, a battalion of -infantry made a rush for it with -the bayonet. The defenders stood -there quietly shooting down the -Germans as they came along, but it -was worse than shooting mosquitoes -with automatic pistols. They hit -many, but there were others behind, -and they kept coming on. The -defenders fired their last shot, and -the building was rushed by the -Germans, who simply swarmed in. -Into the corner the handful of men -went with their bayonets, determined -to sell their lives dearly. -The Germans stood at the doorway -firing into them, and when only -three remained standing the Germans -rushed on them and overpowered -them. From the stable -the attack was then developed in -like fashion against the rest of the -buildings. One of the gables was -sent crumbling down, exposing the -defenders to a withering rifle fire, -and then the roof toppled in with -a crash, burying all that were left -of the brave men beneath the ruins. -Not a man in that building escaped -unhurt, and of the whole force -engaged in defending the position -only twenty were captured by the -Germans unwounded. We avenged -them finely the next day: <i>A Private -of the Warwickshire Regiment</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span></p> - -<h3>Against Big Odds</h3> - -<p>Our machine gun began yapping, -but its noise was little better than -that of a toy terrier against a brace -of bulldogs, and we didn’t count -much on it. Part of the regiment -lay in the trenches firing away at -the Germans for all they were -worth, but we didn’t count much -on that either. We knew that the -good old bayonet would have to be -our mainstay, and so one of the -companies was ordered to get ready -for the rush across the intervening -space. We were out in a brace of -shakes, and there was no loitering -by the way, for the sooner we got -there the easier would it be. Half -way across they found our range -with the guns, and shrapnel dropped -all around. Our chaps were suffering -badly, and seemed to get a bit -weak in their advance. Nobody -could blame them, for it was awful -work. The officer in command -simply called out, “Remember, men, -the Black Watch never wavers. -Forward!” That knocked on the -head any idea of wavering, and we -were off again like a party of merry -trippers at the beginning of the -Glasgow Fair holidays. We got -there in the end, but at a terrible -price, and we found the Germans -ready for us. We went in without -a word or a cheer. After we had -driven them off, they were on to -us again before we had time to -make the position secure. We beat -them back, but they came on over -and over again. The last time I -think it would have gone hard with -us, indeed, but for an unexpected -diversion. A French aeroplane appeared -overhead and began signalling -to a point in our rear. This -scared the Germans, who feared a -big force was moving to cut them -off, and they fell back. Before they -had had time to find out their mistake -a brigade of infantry arrived -to our assistance, and then the -enemy cleared off for good. That -was one of the closest things for us; -and it was a miracle that we pulled -through against such terrible odds -as were thrown against us that -night: <i>A Private of the Black -Watch</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Nesting” Time</h3> - -<p>The Germans took full advantage -of the woods. Sharpshooters and -even machine guns were posted on -the trees, and they did terrible -execution amongst our men, who -were unable to see them. You -approached a wood that appeared -quite peaceful and an ideal place -for a quiet rest. Suddenly you -awoke to the fact that every tree -was a fortress, and bullets began -to drop all round just like acorns -from the trees at home. For an -enemy the woods have many advantages, -but the disadvantages must -not be overlooked. We saw enough -of them to bring home to us that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> -tree-fighting is not all a picnic. -One day we had reason to suspect -that the enemy were trying their -trick in the woods on our left. The -French artillery opened fire, and as -we advanced we found the wood -blazing from end to end. From all -directions came the agonizing cries -of the Germans who were concealed -in the trees. They had no hope of -getting away in many cases, and -simply had to stay in their perches -until suffocation brought a merciful -end. A few of them did escape, -and dashed out to our lines in -terror. We ceased fire and did the -best we could for them, but that -wasn’t much. On another day we -advanced into a wood that was held -in force by the enemy. They were -bent on contesting every inch of -the ground, and what we had to do -was to shelter behind each tree as -we advanced, firing at the next -where one or more Germans were -posted. We had to keep that sort -of thing up for a day, and when -night fell it was doubly dangerous -work. Still, we had to keep at it, -and in the end we drove them out. -Our chaps and the French are ready -to do their share of “nesting” in -the trees when it is necessary to -resist the Germans, and we have -had plenty of that kind of fighting. -It requires a lot of courage, and is -terribly risky all through: <i>A Corporal -of the Middlesex Regiment</i>.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="Chap_X" id="Chap_X">X. HIT AND MISSED</a></h2> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">There is a victory in dying well</div> -<div class="i0">For Freedom—and ye have not died in vain.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Thomas Campbell.</span> -</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">Into the valley of Death</div> -<div class="i4">Rode the six hundred!</div> -</div> - -<hr class="tb" /> - -<div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">Storm’d at with shot and shell,</div> -<div class="i0">While horse and hero fell,</div> -<div class="i0">They that had fought so well</div> -<div class="i0">Came thro’ the jaws of Death,</div> -<div class="i0">Back from the mouth of Hell,</div> -<div class="i0">All that was left of them,</div> -<div class="i4">Left of six hundred.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Tennyson’s</span> “Charge of the Light Brigade.” -</p> - -<p>In one of our rearguard actions -an officer was saying to me, “I am -not good enough to die yet.” He -had not spoken the words before he -was shot through the brain, and the -man on the left had his head blown -off by a shell. You know I wasn’t -severely religious, but I’m inclined -to be now: <i>Pte. Watts, 4th Grenadiers</i>.</p> - -<h3>A “Charmed Life”</h3> - -<p>I bore a charmed life. A bullet -went through the elbow of my -jacket, another through my equipment, -and a piece of shrapnel found -a resting-place in a tin of bully-beef -which was on my back. I was -picked up eventually during the -night, nearly dead from loss of blood: -<i>A Private of the Black Watch</i>.</p> - -<h3>The Seventh Time</h3> - -<p>I am all right, but very nearly -got shot in a trench by the Germans. -I got on my knees to dig a -bit of earth to get comfortable -when they spotted me. Then about -ten shots came in quick succession. -One sent my cap off. Down I -got, and jolly quick. This is the -seventh time I have escaped being -hit: <i>Pte. Oliver, Yorkshire Light -Infantry</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span></p> - -<h3>Making a Hole</h3> - -<p>I was standing with a chum, -watching the artillery fire. “Look -at the smoke,” I said to him. A -moment later a shell came screaming -down, and I was knocked kicking -by the suction. My chum simply -said, “Lordy, look at the hole,” -and then I saw I was lying on the -edge of a hole made by the shell -large enough to bury a horse in: -<i>Pte. J. Charley, East Surrey Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Hero Indeed</h3> - -<p>When I got hit, I couldn’t say -how long I lay there, but a chum -of mine, Tommy Quaife, under a -perfect hail of bullets and shells -dragged me to safety and said, -“Cheer up, Smiler, here’s a fag. -I’m going back for Sandy (his other -chum).” He never got there. -Poor Tommy got a piece of shell -and was buried the same night. If -ever a hero lived he was one: -Sergt. <i>J. Rolfe, 2nd Batt. King’s -Royal Rifles</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Changed View</h3> - -<p>We put in some wonderfully -effective shooting in the trenches, -and the men find it is much easier -making good hits on active service -than at manœuvres. The Germans -seemed to think at first that we -were as poor shots as they are, and -they were awfully sick when they -had to face our deadly fire for the -first time: <i>Pte. M. O’Keefe, Royal -Irish Rifles</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Oh, Bill!”</h3> - -<p>Just as I was hit, I said, “Oh, -Bill, it has knocked my foot up. -Pick it up for me.” He said, “It -is all right. Keep still,” and he -tied something round my leg to -stop the blood running. Then the -doctor came up. He said, “The -stretchers will be up just now”; but -as soon as he went away I was -making for the field hospital on my -hands and knees. I got so far, and -was having a rest when the doctor -gave me a lift: <i>Pte. Wilde, Worcestershire -Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Hell on Earth”</h3> - -<p>About midday a German aeroplane, -flying the Union Jack and -the French colours, came flying down -on our positions. We thought it -was our own craft, but wherever she -dipped the German artillery took -range, and as soon as she got up out of -our reach they simply poured their -shells upon us. Within ten minutes -we had five killed and forty-seven -wounded, and a number we cannot -account for. One shell came blowing -my knapsack off my back, and -made a hole through my waterproof -sheet. It was just like hell on earth: -<i>Pte. A. Fricker, 1st Gloucestershire -Regiment</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span></p> - -<h3>His Kilt Torn</h3> - -<p>As I was crawling on hands and -knees to the base, bullets whizzed -around me and shrapnel fell within -a few feet. I had my kilt pierced -on eight occasions. Everybody who -has seen the holes in my kilt says -what a marvellous escape it was. -I had escaped without any additional -scratch, even though I had -my gun shattered to pieces in my -hand: <i>A Corporal of the Argyll -and Sutherland Highlanders</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Not Me!”</h3> - -<p>Who was going to stop with the -transport? Not me! I was sent -for a box of ammunition, and was -carrying it on my shoulder when a -shrapnel splinter struck the box and -knocked me down. All our fellows -thought I was dead, and one or two -came running to me, but I got up -all right and went back to the -trenches. I had a pop at ’em with -a rifle. Ever seen a shrapnel drop? -<i>A Drummer Boy of the Cheshire -Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Pat on the Ankle</h3> - -<p>I had the misfortune to have a -pat on the ankle. I was placed on -the tool cart, and had a ride with -some others who had had a taste of -German shells. One of our chaps -had a narrow squeak. A bullet took -his cap off, and a groove was cut -through his hair, but it did not -hurt him. It was just the same as -if his hair was parted in the centre, -for the bullet carried away the hair -without hurting the scalp: <i>Sapper -McKenney, 1st Div. Royal Engineers</i>.</p> - -<h3>Doing Well</h3> - -<p>My Dear Wife,—I hope that you -have been getting my letters and -postcards that I have sent to you -since I have been out here. Well, -dear, I am sorry to tell you I have -been wounded, but it is not so -serious as it might have been. I -got hit in the head by a piece of -shell, and the wound is getting on -very nicely up to the time of writing. -Do not worry yourself; we are all -being treated splendidly: <i>Pte. A. E. -Bell, of the Rifle Brigade</i>.</p> - -<h3>Blown Up!</h3> - -<p>I picked one chap up who had -been shot, and asked for someone -to come and help me, and the two -of us were picking him up when a -shell burst between us. We were -blown up in the air, and turned a -somersault, and it is marvellous that -neither of us was hurt. The chap -we were picking up was not so -lucky, for he was hit a second time. -However, we got him up and took -him back to the ambulance. The -Germans finally blew down our -barricade and everything that was -movable, and we retired to the -trenches, three miles away: <i>A -Lance-Corporal of the Royal Marines</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span></p> - -<h3>Disagreeable</h3> - -<p>I have had some close shaves. -Once I looked up for a second at -an aeroplane flying overhead, and a -couple of bullets just missed me by -a hair’s-breadth. One day I was -filling my water-bottle at the stream -when it was shot out of my hand, -and another bullet ripped into my -coat and was stopped against the -photos of you and the children. -Last night in the trenches I dreamt -I was back home again and was -playing with little Gracie and telling -her some stories of the fighting: -<i>Pte. Hamson, King’s Royal Rifles</i>.</p> - -<h3>Green Fireworks</h3> - -<p>I have had the narrowest escape -of my life. The horse I was riding -got knocked out altogether by a -shell, and while I was getting -another one to put in its place a -shell came and put three of us out -of action. I managed to scramble -out of it for about two miles, when -I dropped unconscious, and the next -place I found myself in was a French -hospital with enough bandage round -my head to make a girl a dress. -You ought to see the sight of a -battlefield; it is just like the Crystal -Palace on a firework day but for the -men and horses dropping: <i>Driver -T. Tyler, Royal Field Artillery</i>.</p> - -<h3>Heavy Fire</h3> - -<p>The second day we were under -heavy fire, and we had to retreat; -but the next morning we regained -the trenches. Then we came under -heavy fire again, and it was at this -time that I received my wound. -“Have you got it, old boy?” said -my mate, George Hunter. Only -about ten minutes afterwards -Hunter himself received in rapid -succession five shots in the thigh -and groin. He quickly died from -hæmorrhage, and lies buried in -France. I myself had to lie upon -the ground for eleven hours before I -was carried to an ambulance wagon: -<i>Pte. Whitehead, Norfolk Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>Dead as a Nail</h3> - -<p>The German had killed several -of our fellows before I knocked him -over. As they were going through -a gate—“piff”—and down they -went. We knew by the sound that -the rifleman could not be far, and -we kept looking out for him, for -there were no large bodies of -Germans about. At last I saw a -flash coming from a tree, and I took -two aims at him, and then we saw -him swaying to and fro, dead as a -nail, but tied with a rope to the -tree: <i>Pte. Jakeman, West Riding -Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>Stone Dead</h3> - -<p>We came to a wood that looked -as if it had been occupied by the -Germans. Sure enough, there was -a sentry standing all by himself<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span> -under the trees with a rifle in his -hands. We were in his direct line, -so he couldn’t help seeing us, but -he made not the slightest sound or -sign of being put out. We crept -close to have a better squint at -him, because there was something -uncommon in the look of him, -and then we saw what was the -matter. The poor chap was stone -dead: <i>Corpl. Miller, Army Service -Corps</i>.</p> - -<h3>Kicked</h3> - -<p>I had the misfortune to get three -bullets through my right leg. It -feels just like getting a kick from -a horse. It’s worse if the bullet -strikes a bone, but by a bit of luck -all three bullets went clean through -my leg. They were from a machine -gun, and it happened just after we -had cleared the Germans out of a -wood in order that we might put up -there for the night. I was more -fortunate in South Africa, when I -was serving in the 5th Mounted -Infantry, for then I only received -a slight shell wound: <i>Corporal F. -Price</i>.</p> - -<h3>Killed Instantly</h3> - -<p>After the battle the men rested -in a deserted village where the one -or two inhabitants who remained -boiled some eggs for them and provided -them with some refreshments. -In the deserted shops enough tobacco -was secured to make a cigarette each -for most of the Cheshires, but they -had only one box of matches between -the whole battalion. A number of -the Cheshires were sitting in a cottage -having some tea. The door was -open, and a drummer-boy was sitting -near. Suddenly a bullet whizzed -just past his face and struck a -corporal, who was at that moment -drinking tea from a cup, killing -him instantly! <i>Private Whitlow</i>.</p> - -<h3>Waited for Them</h3> - -<p>One night, while we were lying -prone behind some earthworks, we -heard the sound of hoofs. For a -time we could not detect the intruders, -so kept quite still. Then -a light flickered out in the distance, -then another disclosing a party of -Uhlans, who, thinking they had -the country to themselves, were -lighting their pipes. We allowed -them to advance, joking among -themselves, until they were within -close range. Then we gave them -a volley. Three were killed, and -the remainder, very scared, galloped -off: <i>A Corporal of a Highland -Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Clover Field</h3> - -<p>I got a bullet through my shoulder -that put my right arm out of action. -I dropped in a clover field. The -machine guns were sweeping the -hill, and the bullets were cutting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> -the clover tops about six inches -above my head. I dare not move, -as I would have been riddled, and -the whole of the line had gone on. -I lay there over two hours trying -to get a bandage on my wound. -When I heard the guns becoming -silent, I jumped up and ran behind -a haystack, where I found thirty -more men all smothered with blood. -We bandaged one another up as -best we could, and lay there until -dark, when a doctor arrived, and -those alive were removed with -stretchers. We got some hot tea, -the first drop for five days: <i>Pte. -Cundell, Northamptonshire Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Busy Marksman</h3> - -<p>When I found I could not walk -I gave it up. Just after I got my -first view of the Germans. They -were coming out of a wood 400 -yards away all in a heap together, -so I thought as I was done for I -would get a bit of my own back, -and so I started pumping a bit of -lead into them. I stuck there for -about three-quarters of an hour, -and fired all my own ammunition -and a lot belonging to two more -wounded men who were close to -me—about 300 rounds altogether, -and as it was such a good target I -guess I accounted for a good lot of -them. Then I suddenly discovered -I could walk, and so I set off to get -back. I had to walk about 150 -yards in the open, with shrapnel -bursting abound me all the way: -<i>Private G. A. Turner</i>.</p> - -<h3>Bits of Shrapnel</h3> - -<p>I was wounded by shrapnel. -When the shell burst in the air -about 300 bullets flew in all directions. -I was hit on the right -shoulder. At first it did not hurt, -and I continued to fight for about -an hour. Then another shell burst, -and I got a small wound on my left -shoulder and a bullet through my -left arm. It was in the forearm, -and it came out just above the back -of the elbow, and it fractured the -bone. I have been under X-rays, -and I am pleased to say there -is nothing left in either shoulder, -but there are little bits of shrapnel -left in the elbow: <i>Pte. W. Struthers, -Northumberland Fusiliers</i>.</p> - -<h3>In the Eye</h3> - -<p>While looking over the top of -the trench a shell burst in front, -and something hit me in the eye. -It seemed like a blow from a sledgehammer, -and down I went. When -I came to about an hour after I -found our chaps had beaten the -enemy off, though the shells still -came over. I had a bandage round -my head, also a terrible aching. To -improve matters rain started falling -heavily, but I could not be moved -till daybreak. I was then taken<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> -to the nearest field hospital, had -my wound bathed and dressed, and -then was moved by motor ambulance -to another field hospital -about ten miles away. I stayed -there a day, and again motored -some distance to a town, and from -there came by rail to this hospital, -the train journey taking -thirty hours: <i>Sergt. Guest, Black -Watch</i>.</p> - -<h3>“’Nuf Said”</h3> - -<p>I had a bullet taken out of my -leg yesterday, and I shall have to -have my own back. You see, we -were in the field, and the Germans -were in the bush, and our officer -told us to retire for a few yards, as -he could see better cover from the -enemy’s shot and shell. The first -man got up and got back safely. -Your humble was No. 2. I got up -to go, and one of the Germans took -a penalty. “’Nuf said!” Final -score—One, nil. But, you see, we -always play a return match, and it -will then be my turn for both -points. The Germans are a very -big set of fellows, taking them on -the whole; but what rifle shots! -If the majority of them were in an -empty house, they would not be -able to hit it, because the bullets -would go up the chimney. You -may say, “They were good enough -to hit you.” But that was more by -good luck than by good management: -<i>Private J. B. Coates</i>.</p> - -<h3>Made Comfortable</h3> - -<p>It was about six o’clock in the -morning when I received my souvenir. -It was almost impossible for -a wounded man to get back from -the firing line without being -riddled. I stayed in the trench -until five in the evening. The -noise was deafening, shrapnel bursting -all over the place and raining -bullets. I determined to try and -get back to have my wound dressed, -and I crawled back somehow, rolled -down on to a road, crawled along -again for a few hundred yards, and -presently got in touch with some -stretcher-bearers, who carried me to -a doctor. I with many others lay -in a barn for two days, and the -shells from the enemy’s big guns -burst unpleasantly near the hospital -the whole time. After a two days’ -ride in cattle trucks we reached a -good hospital, where we were made -comfortable: <i>Pte. G. Sims, 1st Batt. -South Wales Border Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>Couldn’t Move</h3> - -<p>I was really fascinated by the -shells, and was not really thinking -of anything at all. Suddenly a -shell burst over my head and it got -me right in the back. I could feel -my horse getting lower and lower; -I put my hand behind me and felt -a lot of hot wet. I wondered if I -could get him over the ditch, but -just before I got to it he rolled over<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span> -into it with me. My troop sergeant -came and asked me if I could get -up. I said, “No, mate, I can’t -move; I’ll have to stop here.” Then -back came the trumpeter with -Captain ——, and he asked me the -same thing. If I couldn’t get on a -spare horse they would have to leave -me there. I said, “Very well, sir, -I’ll stop. You had better clear -out.” I crawled along the ditch to -get out of the way of the shells, -which were bursting a long time -after my squadron had gone to -cover. I lay there about four hours -in a semi-conscious state, and when -I came round I found I had buried -my head in the mud trying to get -out of the way of the shells: <i>A -Lance-Corporal of Hussars</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Flying All Round”</h3> - -<p>The bullets and shells were flying -all round, and did not cease until -after dark. Then was my only -chance to get out. I crawled on -my hands and knees to a little -inn, and there my wounds were -dressed. To-day since I have been -in hospital shrapnel has been bursting -all round, but the hospital was -not touched except for one bullet -which struck a window. The bullet -that wounded me went into one -breast pocket and came out of the -other, and in its course it passed -through your photo, making a hole -in the breast. What a strange -coincidence! It then passed -through my watch and struck a -large clasp knife, smashing it to -pieces and driving it through my -pocket: <i>Sergt. E. W. Turner, -Royal West Kent Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>Got Away</h3> - -<p>I got an awful wound in the left -hip. A shell burst in the trenches -close to me, killing five of our -chaps; so I had a lucky get off. -I had to lie in the trench wounded -all day, as the battle was so fierce -they could not take me to cover. -A few days before this happened I -and another of our chaps were captured -by some Germans. They -took everything I had, even my -watch and chain. The escort took -us to a barn for the night. We -laid down and made out as if we -were asleep. We could hear them -talking, and they touched us, but -we did not move, so they lay down -themselves and soon dropped off to -sleep. There were eleven of us -altogether. Then we thought they -were all right and sound asleep, so -I seized a German rifle next to me, -which was fully loaded, and I -touched my mate and we both -moved slyly away. I was determined -to shoot the first German -that moved and make a run for it; -but we got away all right and slept -the night in a wood: <i>Pte. Evenden, -1st Coldstream Guards</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span></p> - -<h3>“Got Me, Too!”</h3> - -<p>“Come on now, lads,” said our -officer, and we went running on as -hard as we could. We had got to -take the hill, you see, or smash the -Germans that were on it. At last -we got quite near—not 150 yards -from the trenches. I and two pals -of mine and two others got behind -a hedge and started to blaze away. -We lost our sick feeling then. -There was one chap got hit in the -face with a shrapnel bullet. “Hurt, -Bill?” I said to him. “Good luck -to the old regiment,” said he. Then -he rolled over on his back. There -was a grey German helmet over the -side of the trench with a rifle under -it. I let that German have a bullet -all to himself. I saw his helmet -roll back and his rifle fly up. Then -I got on my knees to bandage up a -pal, and just as I moved there was -a smash on my side. They’d got -me, too, and I rolled over and -thought I was done for: <i>Pte. S. -Smith, 1st Warwickshire Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Passing Shell</h3> - -<p>One day I was in front of my -horses with my back to the enemy, -just putting on my nosebags, when -a shell from somewhere fell between -the horses and put the whole six on -the ground. I was pulled up in -the air by my horse, and he dropped -on his back dead. The wheel-horses -were struggling, and my wheel-driver -was lying dead with his face -blown away. I did not get touched, -but no sooner did the devils see -that their shells were effective than -they opened fire with the whole lot -of their big guns, twelve in all, and -I don’t know how many machine -guns. The din was horrible, shells -screaming and whistling around me, -and the pop-pop-pop of the Maxims. -I ran round to the gun and tried to -get it unlimbered, but the horses -were struggling in the wheel harness -and I could not move it. Then I -felt a twitch in my arm. I saw -blood on my sleeve, and the hole -where the bullet went in. The use -of my arm was gone. I did not -know what to do. I dropped down -and crawled out of the firing line. -Another fellow came along with a -wound in his hand, and we sat -there talking together till we were -picked up by an ambulance: <i>Driver -G. Chiswell, Royal Horse Artillery</i>.</p> - -<h3>Stuck to Him</h3> - -<p>I was told to go back to the -farmhouse and cut the horses loose. -I did so. Then God answered my -prayer, and I had strength to run -through a line of rifle fire over -barbed wire covered by a hedge, -and managed to get out of range, -and then I fell for want of water. -I had just about two teaspoonfuls -in my bottle; then I went on -struggling my way through hedges<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> -to a railway line. When I got -through I saw a man of the Royal -Irish with six wounds from shrapnel. -I managed to carry him about half -a mile and found water; then he -was as happy as if he were not -wounded. I stuck to him although -he was heavy and I was feeling weak -and tired. I had to carry him -across a big field of turnips; when -half way I slipped and we both fell. -I had a look back, and could see -the fire mountains high. I then -saw one of my own regiment, and -with the help of two Frenchmen we -soon got the Irishman on a shutter -to a house and dressed him. We -got him away from the village, -which was being shelled, and then -met a company of Cameronian -Highlanders and handed him over -to them: <i>Pte. G. Kay, of the Royal -Scots</i>.</p> - -<h3>Anchored!</h3> - -<p>“We’re in for it,” says I to -Tommy Gledhill, my chum. “Anything’s -better than lying here,” -said he. “Anyhow, it will warm -us up just as well as brandy, and -it’ll help a few more Germans to a -place where they’ll not be bothered -with chills.” Sure enough, it was -as hot as anyone could wish it -to be. The Germans were in -their best fighting form. They -came right up to where we were -posted, stopping every few yards to -fire into us. Then they came for us -with the bayonet, and there was as -nice a set-to in the muggy downpour -as you could ask for. It was -ugly work while it lasted. In the -soaked ground it was difficult -enough to keep a foothold, but if -you want a really tough job just -try a little bayonet exercise with a -heavy German dancing around you -trying to jab a bayonet into you if -you should happen to slip in the mud. -That’ll give you an idea of what -we came through. “Anchored!” -We don’t like to be called that at -any time, but that morning we were -proud when the brigadier called us -the old “Stick-in-the-Muds,” and I -dare say if it hadn’t been for the -fact that some of us caught the -wheeze of anchoring ourselves at -least a foot deep in the mud we -might have been swept away. As -it was, it was the Germans who -were swept away, and you might say -that they were properly rolled in -blood and mud, for when any of -them went down in that fight they -were a sight for sore eyes, or I’m a -horse marine: <i>A Private of the -Grenadier Guards</i>.</p> - -<h3>Carted to Hospital</h3> - -<p>We had not marched more than -500 yards, and got to the outskirts -of the town, when we heard a -cavalry patrol coming towards us, -the officers speaking in French. Our -captain immediately challenged in -French, and we got no reply. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> -captain then realized they were -Germans, and the order came, -“Fire!” The German officers -dashed forward and seized the -muzzles of the front-rank rifles -a second before we had the order -“Fire!” and a proper mêlée took -place. A German slashed one of -our chaps’ head nearly off. All -of them (Germans) were wiped out -in a few seconds. After that we -fired volleys as they charged down -on us, and they never got within -50 yards of us. They brought a -big gun, and then it was a perfect -hell. The gun was only 400 yards -away, and was blazing shrapnel into -us. Five times we silenced it. It -was hell all night. I was shot, -and carted off to hospital. My -rifle stopped the bullet, and saved -my life, or I should have got it -in the chest: <i>A Guardsman, at -Mons</i>.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="Chap_XI" id="Chap_XI">XI. ADVANCE AND RETREAT</a></h2> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">What rights are his that dare not strike for them?</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Tennyson.</span> -</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">Kabul town’s by Kabul river—</div> -<div class="i2">Blow the bugle, draw the sword—</div> -<div class="i0">There I lef’ my mate for ever,</div> -<div class="i2">Wet an’ drippin’ by the ford.</div> -<div class="i4">Ford, ford, ford o’ Kabul river,</div> -<div class="i6">Ford o’ Kabul river in the dark!</div> -<div class="i4">There’s the river up and brimmin’, and there’s ’arf a squadron swimmin’</div> -<div class="i6">’Cross the ford o’ Kabul river in the dark.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Rudyard Kipling’s</span> “Ford o’ Kabul River.” -</p> - -<p>We had a good time before we -started fighting. The French people -gave us everything they had—cigarettes, -chocolate, grapes, everything -imaginable. But it is a different -France now the German pigs have -burnt all the houses. It does seem -a shame: <i>Pte. A. Wilson, Bedfordshire -Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>“NO-o-o!”</h3> - -<p>We passed a wounded “Joey,” -whose face was deathly white from -suffering. He opened his eyes as -we reached him, smiled, and called -out in a faint voice, “Are we downhearted?” -We called back a hearty -“No!” that must have drowned -the noise of the cannon, and then -we gave three hearty cheers, just to -liven things up: <i>Pte. T. Ball, Royal -Marine Light Infantry</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Bold Front</h3> - -<p>Our colonel was a perfect gentleman, -and under his gallant lead the -Rangers set a bold front. In the -midst of the bursting of the German -projectiles his clear, stentorian -voice rang out, “Rangers of Connaught, -all eyes are upon you to-night. -While you have fists and a -heart within you charge them. If -you don’t, never face me in this -world nor in the next”: <i>Pte. W. -McConville, 2d Batt. Connaught -Rangers</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span></p> - -<h3>“Shifting” Them</h3> - -<p>I tell you we were like a lot of -schoolboys at a treat when we got -the order to fix bayonets, for we -knew we should shift them then. -We had about 200 yards to cover -before we got near them, and then -we let them have it in the neck. It -put you in mind of tossing hay, only -we had human bodies: <i>Pte. G. -Bridgeman, 4th Royal Fusiliers</i>.</p> - -<h3>Dug It Out</h3> - -<p>Stormed at all the way, we kept -on, and no one was hit until we -came to a white house which stood -in a clearing. Immediately the -officer passed the gap hell was let -loose on us, but we got across -safely, and I was the only one -wounded, and that was with a -ricochet shrapnel bullet in the right -knee. I knew nothing about it -until an hour after, when I had it -pointed out to me. I dug it out -with a knife: <i>Private Smiley, at -Mons</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Stand Solid!”</h3> - -<p>The captain said, “Get up, men; -stand solid.” We formed about six -deep. Then we gave them the surprise -of their lives. We could just -see a black mass in front of our -trenches, and we let out for all we -were worth. We were like devils -possessed. I could feel my bayonet -go through something soft. Not a -German got his foot in the trench. -They ran down the slopes like -rabbits, and to help them we gave -them five rounds rapid: <i>Pte. D. -Hamilton, Royal Scots</i>.</p> - -<h3>The Dying German</h3> - -<p>When I was hit I lay for hours -on the ground, and got chummy -with a German chap, who had got a -nasty sabre cut in the head, as well -as a bayonet stab in the kidneys, -and was “booked through.” He -knew his number was up, but he -was as cheery as though he were at -a wedding instead of a funeral.... -Almost the last words he said were, -“You’ll win this time, and you -deserve to win your victory, but -we’ll never forget or forgive, and -some day a new Germany will -avenge us”: <i>A Welsh Private</i>.</p> - -<h3>Disturbed!</h3> - -<p>We were having letters and parcels -and our breakfast bacon issued -out in the trenches when the Germans -charged us and captured -them. When we took the position -again I found my parcel had been -opened and the letters had been -strewn all over the place. It was -an awful slaughter of the Germans, -for they were within 20 yards of us -and we poured volleys into them. -You ought to have heard them -yell; it was like a wild-beast show -let loose. They came through a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span> -thick wood, and that was the reason -they got so close: <i>Pte. Westfield, -Worcestershire Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Annie Laurie”</h3> - -<p>We were unable to sleep for the -pouring rain, and sat at a big camp -fire with hot tea and rum. The -boys asked me to sing “Annie -Laurie,” and I was never in better -voice. When I finished there were -officers, and even staff officers attracted -from their billets, who had -come over the field in the rain to -join in. I need hardly add that -they were nearly all Scotch, and -“Annie Laurie” after all is to a -Scot what the “Marseillaise” is to -a Frenchman: <i>A Bombardier of the -Royal Field Artillery</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Few! Few!”</h3> - -<p>We jumped out of our trenches -at the command “Fix bayonets, -charge!” Only a few of them stood -and faced our bayonets, and Lord -have mercy on that few! They -were actually torn or cut to pieces. -Those that ran away halted when -they got to the sky-line, and there -put up their hands and the white -flag. We followed them up, and -brought back six machine quick-firers -and 324 prisoners. Those we -captured had plenty of money, but -no food of any kind: <i>Pte. W. -McGillicuddy, Irish Guards</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Hard Neck”</h3> - -<p>There were forty-nine of us out -as an advance guard for the regiment, -and we were fired on. Of -course, we wanted a shot at them, -and we advanced, thinking it was a -patrol, but we were not long in -finding out that it was a whole -German brigade we were into. We -had to make a fight and check them, -and we fairly peppered them for a -while. Then we retired with the -Germans at our heels. We got -down 700 yards off them, and gave -them some more; but we had to -retire as the bullets were falling -like rain. Fancy 25,000—it was -only our “hard neck” that got us -out of it: <i>Pte. A. Kenaway, 2nd -Batt. Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders</i>.</p> - -<h3>Thank Goodness!</h3> - -<p>Just as we were entering the -place a shot rang out and our -leading man went down, shot -through the heart, so all we could -do was to turn round and gallop -for it, which we did. I can tell -you there were bullets flying in all -directions. We had another man -hit through the thigh, and four -horses—two shot dead and two -wounded. One of them had four -bullets in him and still galloped. -We had to thank our lucky stars -the Germans are such bad shots, or -they would have got the lot of us;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> -and we have had the same luck -with their shell fire: <i>Corpl. T. -Askew, 3rd King’s Own Hussars</i>.</p> - -<h3>The Great Retreat</h3> - -<p>In five days we retired from Mons -to Noyon, a distance of about 130 -miles, fighting day and night, with -no proper meals. We had to live -on the country. I ate nothing but -fruit and turnips. At last I was -hit by a piece of shrapnel, which -has taken away the use of the toes -of my right foot and fractured three -or four small bones. At the time -it simply felt like a scald, and I -marched seven miles before I found -my foot was bleeding. Whilst trying -to close the men up I suffered a -second accident to my foot, a wagon-wheel -passing over it owing to a -skid: <i>Colour-Sergeant Barling</i>.</p> - -<h3>Outnumbered</h3> - -<p>Our little lot was waiting for -the Germans in a turnip field. We -were lying down, and on they came. -We let fly, and numbers of them -went down. They cracked at us -then with their machine guns, and -did us a good deal of damage. We -were obliged to retire, but there -was an off-and-on fight for at least -twelve hours. We would get cover -and have a smack at ’em, and with -their great numbers and our good -shooting we did tumble them over. -But, my goodness! the numbers did -keep coming on, and we had to go -back. We advanced and pushed -them back, but we were outnumbered -again. We fell back, and a crush -of us got separated from the rest. -There were about sixteen of us, and -we found ourselves beyond the German -lines: <i>A Private of the Royal -Dublin Fusiliers</i>.</p> - -<h3>“The Old British Way”</h3> - -<p>They have a trick of throwing -masses of cavalry at our weakest -infantry when they are either advancing -in an exposed position or -in retreat. They tried it on as -often as they could, but what they -don’t seem able to get over is the -quick way in which the smallest -party of our infantry will turn -round and give them the bayonet. -At first they came on all swagger, -thinking they could cut our men -down, but when they began to see -what our chaps were up to they -weren’t so keen on keeping it up. -I have seen them coming on with -great bluster and bounce until the -order “Prepare to receive cavalry” -was carried out in the old British -way, and then they took to their -heels as fast as their horses would -carry them: <i>A Corporal of the South -Lancashire Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>Covered with Straw</h3> - -<p>News reached our brigade that -some of the Germans were making a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span> -stand not far in front of us. We at -once scattered ourselves in the fields, -and then advanced in extended formation -until we could see them nicely. -We fired a few rounds into them, -and they beat a hasty retreat, but -not before they had killed seven and -wounded twelve. Our colonel was the -first man shot, and he died the next -morning. After the dead had been -collected and the wounded attended -to we again got on the move, and -I shall never forget how I felt as I -passed my dead comrades on the -road. They had been laid by the -roadside, and their faces covered -with straw: <i>Bandsman T. Woodward, -Loyal North Lancashire Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>Nothing to be Seen</h3> - -<p>The disconcerting thing in battle -nowadays is that you may be fighting -for hours on end and never as -much as see an enemy to grapple -with. We lay for ten hours with -rifle fire dropping around us like -raindrops in a heavy shower. The -roar of the guns was always there, -like the thunder that you hear in a -big storm, and you could see one -long line of little white puffs of -smoke away in the horizon every -time the Germans fired. Beyond -that you couldn’t see anything, and -it was only an odd sting in the arm -or leg or head from a bullet that -made you realize you were in battle: -<i>Corporal of the Connaught Rangers</i>.</p> - -<h3>“A Horrible Trade-mark”</h3> - -<p>I have had two horses shot under -me, so you can see my time hasn’t -come yet. Our men are wonderfully -fit and fight like the very -devil. We have lost two of our -young officers, and I am wearing a -pair of riding-breeches which belonged -to one of them. I have -been sharing a pipe for a fortnight -with one of my troopers. Things -are going well with us, and we are -giving the Germans all they want, -and a little more besides. But there -are such hordes of men that it’s a -case of shooting one line down when -along comes another. They are -cursed cowards, and will not meet -our cavalry in the open. Their -shells are our worst trouble; they -don’t give you half a chance, for -you can’t see them coming, and -they leave such a horrible trademark: -<i>A Squadron-Major of the -Royal Horse Guards</i>.</p> - -<h3>Blown Sky High</h3> - -<p>It is not only on sea that the -Germans make use of mines. They -do it on land. Nearly all the approaches -to their trenches are mined -for about two hundred yards, and -even one thousand yards. One day -an infantry battalion of ours, supported -by French infantry and -cavalry, fought their way right up -to the enemy’s trenches and were -formed up for the last rush, when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> -suddenly the earth under them gave -way with a terrific explosion, and -the air was thick with bodies blown -sky high. Our own men seemed -to get very little damage, though -many of them were stunned for the -time being by the awful explosion. -After a time they were re-formed, -and swept across the intervening -space with a ringing cheer that told -its own story. The Germans were -ready for them, and they had a -hard tussle to clear the trenches, -but they succeeded in the end: <i>A -Lance-Corporal of the Lincolnshire -Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>Rescued!</h3> - -<p>Several of us got separated from -our company at St. Quintin. After -tramping about twelve miles we -reached a farmhouse. The farmer -gave us two chickens, a piece of -bacon, and some potatoes, and we -were just sitting down to a meal -after a long fast when a body of -Uhlans came round the corner. We -hadn’t even time to reach our rifles. -They rode straight at us, and one -knocked me over. As I got up he -turned his horse back and, taking -his foot from his stirrup, kicked -me in the mouth, displacing all my -teeth. After I was taken prisoner -I was kicked all over the body. -Just as they were marching us off -a patrol of British cavalry came on -the scene. The Uhlans did not -attempt to meet them, but immediately -rode off. We were greatly -relieved at the turn of events, but -I was so badly injured by the Germans -that I was sent to hospital: -<i>Private Goulder</i>.</p> - -<h3>A “Sensational Feeling”</h3> - -<p>There came a terrible sensational -feeling over me. I shall never -forget it. I knew it was the -smartest man wins. Off we started -at the trot and I was gradually -getting confidence, and by the time -the charge sounded I felt as if I -didn’t care. Consequently the -“devil-may-care” crowd won easily. -Then we had to rally and ride -down on them again, as they were -about twice our strength, but it was -an easier job than the first one, as -they were more or less dumbfounded -at our madness. Well, at the end -of the second run there wasn’t one -left standing. Oh, I saw one fellow -get up and lurch and over he -toppled again: <i>Corpl. Leather, 2nd -Dragoon Guards</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Silence Those Guns!”</h3> - -<p>Quite the worst sight I saw was -when a big mass of French infantry -were advancing to clear the front of -our position, where the Germans -had been gathering in strength. -They were coming along at the -double, carrying everything before -them, when, without the slightest<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> -warning, German batteries posted -under the shelter of a wood opened -fire upon them with a deadly shower -of shrapnel and machine-gun bullets. -The long advancing line seemed to -contract like a frog does when you -stick a pin in it, and it isn’t any -exaggeration to say that you could -hear the shells cutting through their -closely packed ranks just like the -scythe cuts through the grass. The -men went down by the hundred -until they opened in extended order. -Then they made a rush for the -position where the guns were, and -though they were galled by a heavy -infantry fire, and were attacked by -both infantry and cavalry at nearly -every step of the way, they ultimately -fought their way along and -silenced those guns: <i>A Lance-Corporal -of the Royal Irish Fusiliers</i>.</p> - -<h3>Playing at Soldiers!</h3> - -<p>The Germans came on us like -a great mob. They were as close as -100 yards or less in a mango field -on several occasions, but we drove -them back each time with severe -losses. It was hot work, but the -boys have plenty of courage. They -delight in seeing them come along, -for it is great sport to see them -running back again when we start -to shake them up. They don’t seem -to have any sore feet. They run -back like hares or else they chuck -in. Tell any of the boys around -that if they want to see some sport -and what real fighting is to join and -come out to us <i>and not be playing at -soldiers at home drilling with wooden -sticks</i>. Well, I hope you are all -well at home. If it be God’s will -to let us meet once more; if not, -dear mother, do not grieve, for your -boys will do the best they can to -serve our King and country, and by -doing what we believe is God’s will. -Always think kind of a soldier, as I -know you do: <i>Sergeant T. R. Kenny</i>.</p> - -<h3>Kept the Guns</h3> - -<p>A battery advancing against the -Germans during one of the hot -fights was suddenly pounced on by -the enemy from a position we never -thought them to be in, and half the -men and all the horses were shot -down before you could have said -the shortest of prayers, and the -German cavalry came rushing out -of a wood close by to seize the -guns. Fortunately some of our -own men were near at hand, and -they were quickly formed up round -the guns. They fired into the Germans, -and drove them back. Then -a big body of infantry had a try at -getting the guns away, but our -chaps tackled them with the bayonet, -and for about an hour the fight -round those guns was as hot as anybody -could stand. The two sides -kept swaying each other backwards -and forwards like a couple of tug-of-war -teams, and then, just for -variety I suppose, the German<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> -artillery chipped in, and they cut -up their own chaps much more than -they hurt ours. Finally our infantry -got disentangled from the Germans, -were strongly reinforced, and with -a grand bayonet charge cleared the -whole lot of the Germans away -from the guns. Horses were -brought out and the guns were -removed to a point of safety without -further trouble: <i>Pte. T. Molloy, -Royal Garrison Artillery</i>.</p> - -<h3>Taking Risks</h3> - -<p>Our officer asked for a man to go -with him to blow a bridge up, so -that the Germans could not follow -us, and I went with him. All our -men had retired. Well, to blow a -bridge up we use gun-cotton and a -wire fuse. It is safe enough if you -take your wire well away, but this -time it would not work. The men -in running back had stepped on the -wire, so we had to go nearer to -the bridge and try again. Then it -would not act, so the officer said to -me, “Go back, Wells.” I said, -“No, I’ll go with you.” We were -the only two on the bridge, and the -Germans were shooting at us, but -our luck was in. Well, we both -lay down, and I fired ten rounds -with my rifle, and he did the same -with his pistol, and then it would not -work. If it had we should both -have gone up with it, so you see -what a near shave we had. We -made a dive back and got some -more gun-cotton, and we were -making to have another go when -an officer called us back and told -us it was no use us trying, so we -came back: <i>Sapper Wells, Royal -Engineers</i>.</p> - -<h3>Broke the Line</h3> - -<p>The welcome order to fix bayonets -and charge came at last, and we -didn’t lose much time in getting at -them, As we finished the last lap -of our race for their trenches they -concentrated a fiendish fire on us, -but that didn’t stop us at all, and -we reached their trenches at last -with a wild whoop that must have -struck terror to their hearts. For -the first time in my experience they -made a desperate attempt to repel -us with the bayonet. Their weight -seemed enough to hurl us back, but -we stuck to them like leeches, and -at last their line began to waver. -They were stretched across the -trenches in one long line, and when -one man fell another slipped into -his place. Near the centre we -made a break in the line, and then -the whole lot gave way, running -like hares, and throwing down their -arms as they ran. We bayoneted -them by the score as they ran, and -shot them down in dozens until we -were completely used up. Their -officers made many attempts to -rally them, but it was no good, and -those who could not get away surrendered -rather than face any more<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span> -of it: <i>A Non-commissioned Officer -of the Irish Guards</i>.</p> - -<h3>A “Hot Shop”</h3> - -<p>Where we were posted was a hot -shop, and for a week the Germans -had been treating us to night -attacks. It was long past our time -for standing treat in return, and we -weren’t surprised one night when -we were paraded and marched out -in the direction of where the Germans -had been firing from all day. -In the pitch darkness it was slow -work, and the men had to be halted -every few minutes to enable the -guides to take their bearings from -the few stars that were overhead. -By three o’clock we were resting on -a slight slope leading up from a -stream, when the scouting parties -ahead reported movements in front. -A few minutes after that we -stumbled right on top of a big -body of Germans stealing along as -quietly as we had come, and evidently -trying a surprise attack on -our camp. You can bet your last -half-crown that we didn’t wait to -ask if their intentions were honourable. -We just shot right into them, -and the ball was opened in fine -style. Before they had time to -think what was happening, we had -fixed bayonets and were charging -down on them. We swept them -off their feet and right down the -other side of the slope in confusion: -<i>A Lance-Corporal of the Cameron -Highlanders</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Talk About Excitement!”</h3> - -<p>It was like going to a football -match, cracking jokes and singing -all the ragtimes we knew. All our -fellows knew what depended upon -the result, and that only made -them the more determined. But -it was determination in the best of -spirits. And how our fellows did -fight, with always a joke handy and -utter fearlessness. The Germans -looked like a forest approaching, -but that didn’t daunt us, and -our artillery replied to theirs with -interest. For hour after hour it -was one continuous stream of shot -and shell. Their artillery was the -best part about them, their individual -firing being poor, but our -artillery was far better, though -their biggest guns created the -most havoc among our ranks. Talk -about excitement, it was all excitement -from the beginning and during -the retirement. There was nothing -else for us to do. It was a rare hot -time. We were working for concentration -the whole time, and there -is no doubt about it, our orders -were the best possible under the -circumstances. The Germans were -making a mark of us all along, but -directly we got our chances we -let them have it: <i>A Private, at -Mons</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span></p> - -<h3>Balaclava Style</h3> - -<p>The firing suddenly ceased, and -through the smoke we saw the German -infantry creeping along the -fire-scorched grass. They were -heading for a stream on which our -right rested, and were coming on -with an easy, confident swing, when -we got the order to mount our -horses, which had been lying ready -by our sides all through the shelling. -We chased the Germans for about -a mile, and cut them to ribbons, -and then we ran full-tilt into their -cavalry supports, who were drawn -up by the wayside in wait for us. -The impetus of our charge carried -us past them, and they closed up -along the road in our rear to bar -our way back, evidently thinking -they had only to say the word and -we would set out for Berlin like so -many Sunday-school children out -for their treat. This was the first -time we had any experience of German -cavalry, getting in our way of -their own accord, but wonders never -cease in war, and we just took it as -it came. We charged into them in -our best Heavy Brigade Balaclava -style, and gave them a fine cutting -up. They didn’t want very much -of it, and soon cleared off into the -fields: <i>A Trooper of the Royal Irish -Dragoons</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Night Surprise</h3> - -<p>One night we were moving out -to take up a new position, when we -suddenly came on a big force of -Germans occupying a strong position -right across the road along which we -had to march. Soon the still night -air brought the sound of marching -men further up the road, and as the -new force came nearer, we found that -they were French troops moving to -effect a junction with the force we were -going to reinforce. The Germans -had somehow got wind of the move, -and were preparing a little surprise -for the French. They were so cocksure -about their rear that they had -not taken the ordinary precautions, -and as we had moved quietly they -were in ignorance of our presence -within easy rifle shot. Just when -they were getting ready for the -attack on the oncoming French -force the order to fire was passed -along our ranks quietly, and we let -drive right into them. They were -absolutely panic-stricken, and fled in -terror along the road, right into the -arms of the French. The impetuosity -of their rush, and its unexpected -character, threw the French infantry -into disorder for a time, and when -we moved forward the French at -first took us for Germans, and were -getting ready to fire on us. At -great personal risk an officer and -two men rushed towards the French -force with a white flag and explained -things. Then we were all -right, and you may believe me we -generally are all right: <i>A Private -of the Cameron Highlanders</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span></p> - -<h3>No Fight Left</h3> - -<p>A party of the Royal Irish -Lancers were out scouting and -patrolling one day, when a sergeant-major -and a trooper who were -ahead came on a long, straggling -line of German transport wagons -loaded up, and under a happy-go-lucky -escort. The Lancers, though -they didn’t know it, had cut into -the enemy’s line of retreat. The -men were got together quickly, and -they moved up the road to where -there was an ideal spot for ambushing -the convoy. It had to pass over a -narrow stone bridge that was commanded -by a clump of trees, in -which our men were able to take -shelter and hide their horses. The -escort with the wagons was at -least five times the strength of the -squadron of Lancers, but that didn’t -trouble them very much. They -waited until the head of the column -was straggling across the bridge, and -then they emptied their carbines -into them along a wide front that -gave the impression of great force. -The Germans were taken completely -by surprise. Their horses started -to rear and plunge, and many men -and animals went over into the -stream, being carried away. The -motor wagons could not be stopped -in time and they crashed into each -other in hopeless confusion. Into -this confused mass of frightened -men and horses and wagons that -ran amok the Lancers now charged -from two separate points. The -Lancers made short work of the -escort at the head of the column, -and the officer in command agreed -to surrender all that was under his -direct control, though he said he -couldn’t account for the rearguard. -When we came up on motors to -seize a position for the purpose of -heading off the Germans in retreat, -we found the Lancers waiting there -with all their spoil, and getting -ready to receive the rest of the -escort in case it should show fight. -There wasn’t much fight left in -them, and they surrendered at sight, -giving up the whole supply column: -<i>A Private of the Cameronians</i>.</p> - -<h3>All Sorts of Sacrifices</h3> - -<p>Along the Aisne the Germans -made some absolutely desperate -attempts to break through our line, -and they counted no sacrifice too -great to achieve their end. One -day I saw a brigade of theirs caught -in a deadly trap. There was a gap -in our lines between one of our -brigades and the nearest French -force. The Germans made a sudden -dash for that gap under cover -of their artillery, and, though they -were exposed to a heavy fire that -cut deep lines through their ranks, -they came steadily on. They had -nearly reached their goal when a -sudden movement of British reserves -on the left brought a fierce attack -on the Germans from the rear. At<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> -the same time the Germans were -fired on from our men and the French -on either flank. They had either -to continue their forward march, -with the certainty of disaster, or -turn and try to hew their way out -again through our reserves. They -chose the latter course, and their -artillery tried to back them up in -every possible way. Owing to the -disposition of forces it was a risky -job to keep up artillery fire, and -soon the shells began to do as much -damage among the Germans as to -the British or French. The Germans -kept falling back under the double -fire, and at the same time great -clouds of cavalry came moving out in -support of their retirement. The -British force taking the Germans -in the rear was now in danger of -being taken in the rear itself, but -reinforcements were hurried out, -and our cavalry began the work of -pressing back the German cavalry -advancing to the assistance of their -trapped infantry. Now the air -was thick with fighting men, and -the cries of the combatants were -deafening. The retreating Germans -kept moving steadily towards -their oncoming cavalry, dropping -men by the hundred as they retreated, -but just when they seemed -to have reached their goal our -infantry were on them, and they -were hurled against the French -position on the right. After this -there was nothing for it but to cut -and run, and what looked to be one -of the best brigades of the German -army was soon nothing more than -a mass of panic-stricken men flying -in quest of a hiding-place from the -fire by which they were assailed. -In their flight they cast aside arms -and equipment or anything likely -to impede their rush. For half a -mile in front of our position there -were piles of dead and dying to -testify to the terrible execution -done by our artillery and rifle fire, -and that repulse saw the end of the -German attempts to break through -our line at that particular point: -<i>A Motor-Cyclist Dispatch-Rider</i>.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="Chap_XII" id="Chap_XII">XII. IN THE TRENCHES</a></h2> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">Come the three corners of the world in arms,</div> -<div class="i0">And we shall shock them; nought shall make us rue</div> -<div class="i0">If England to herself do rest but true.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare.</span> -</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">When the last charge sounds,</div> -<div class="i2">And the battle thunders o’er the plain,</div> -<div class="i0">Thunders o’er the trenches where the red streams flow,</div> -<div class="i2">Will it not be well with us,</div> -<div class="i12">Veterans, veterans,</div> -<div class="i0">If, beneath your torn old flag, we burst upon the foe?</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Alfred Noyes.</span> -</p> - -<p>There was a Frenchman hit by a -shell, so me and “Smosh” got a -stretcher and ran out and fetched -him to safety, and the shells were -bursting all around us. But we -have been lucky enough to miss -them up to now. It isn’t war out -here; it’s murder: <i>Pte. W. Commons, -Royal Army Medical Corps</i>.</p> - -<h3>Sniping!</h3> - -<p>The Germans have some very -good snipers, but the Duke’s have -better. We used to take it in turn -to do sniping. It is just like going -out rabbit-shooting. You see a -German crawl out of his trench, up -goes your rifle and over he rolls. -Then you say, “That’s a bit of our -own back for the way you have been -treating the French people”: <i>Sergt. -Clark, Duke of Cornwall’s Light -Infantry</i>.</p> - -<h3>The Bayonet!</h3> - -<p>One night after a very hard day -in the trenches, when we were wet -to the skin, we had lighted fires to -dry our tunics, and were at it when -we heard firing along our front, -and then the Germans came at us -like madmen. We had to tackle -them in our shirt-sleeves. It was -mainly bayonet work, and hard -work at that: <i>Corporal Casemont, -Irish Fusiliers</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Good Sleeper</h3> - -<p>There are six of the boys playing -cards now, some are peeling<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> -spuds for dinner, the rest are having -a sleep. We have a hole dug in a -bank, and we only get in when the -shrapnel gets a bit too close, to get -out of sight of aeroplanes, and to -sleep, night-times. My chum only -wakes up grub-times and when he -does guard: <i>Corpl. H. Smith, King’s -Royal Rifles</i>.</p> - -<h3>Those Apples</h3> - -<p>We are living in trenches here, -all merry and gay. We are being -shelled by the enemy with shrapnel, -but they are not doing much damage -at present. There are apple-trees -over our trench, and we have to -wait till the Germans knock them -down for us. You ought to see -us scramble down our holes when -we hear a shell coming: <i>Private G. -Caley, of Manor Park</i>.</p> - -<h3>Four Feet Down</h3> - -<p>We are in a trench made by ourselves -(patented), four feet down, -and covered with sticks and straw, -and are quite comfortable for a -while, until we move again. We -get plenty to eat, as there is any -amount of vegetables growing -around us, but bread is like gold, -so we have to content ourselves -with biscuits: <i>Bandsman Ryan, -Royal Irish Fusiliers</i>.</p> - -<h3>Its Billet</h3> - -<p>My best chum was lying by my -side, and we were firing shot after -shot. Soon after dusk, when the -firing was not so brisk, my chum -asked me for a drink of water, -and I had none. I asked, “Why, -what’s the matter?” He replied, -“I think I am dying.” I bound -him up, but a quarter of an hour -later he had gone: <i>Private Pemberton</i>.</p> - -<h3>Taking a German</h3> - -<p>One big wounded German cried -out from the trench in which he -laid to a R.A.M.C. man who was -at work near by, “Take me from -this hell. I will give you all my -money.” In due course he was -taken from the trench (grave, as it -really was, because of the heaps of -dead lying in it), and was finally -removed to a place where I was -lying: <i>Bandsman Boyd, 2nd Welsh</i>.</p> - -<h3>Another Rocket</h3> - -<p>We have been living the life of -rabbits, for we burrowed ourselves -in trenches, and here we remained -for over fifty hours. It was an -exciting and not unpleasant experience. -The bursting of shells overhead -was continuous, and it became -monotonous. To the youngsters it -was an awful experience in the -earlier stages, but even they became -so accustomed to the roar overhead -that they raised a cheer each time -shrapnel and shell spoke, making -such remarks as “There’s another -rocket, John”: <i>Pte. C. Harris, West -Kents</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span></p> - -<h3>Too Late!</h3> - -<p>The Germans don’t seem to care -how much ammunition they waste. -They kept blazing away for nine -solid hours at a position which we -had left the day before. When -some of us visited the abandoned -trenches after they had discovered -their mistake we were astonished to -find the ground covered with bullets -that had done absolutely no damage. -If it wasn’t for their artillery I really -don’t know where they would be, for -they are little use at any other form -of fighting: <i>Private Edward Strong</i>.</p> - -<h3>Might Shake Hands</h3> - -<p>There are times when if you stuck -your head out of a trench you could -no more help being hit than you -could expect to escape drops of rain -if you went out on a wet day without -an umbrella. You will not be able -to see a German when darkness -comes, but next morning you will -find that the trenches have come -so close, owing to the exertions of -the two sides, that you could reach -out of yours and shake hands with -a German—that’s if you wanted to. -When things get so close as that -there’s nothing for it but to set to -and shift the beggars a little further -along: <i>A Driver of the Royal Artillery</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Football Talk</h3> - -<p>You musn’t run away with the -idea that we all stand shivering or -cowering under shell fire, for we -don’t. We just go about our -business in the usual way. If it’s -potting at the Germans that is to -the fore, we keep at it as though -nothing were happening, and if -we’re just having a wee bit of a -chat among ourselves until the -Germans come up, we keep at it all -the same. When I got my wound -in the leg it was because I got too -excited in arguing with wee Geordie -Ferris, of our company, about Queen’s -Park Rangers and their chances this -season: <i>A Private of the Gordon -Highlanders</i>.</p> - -<h3>Feeling Led</h3> - -<p>As I write shells from heavy -guns are whining overhead, and the -roar from the gun’s mouth as well -as the roar of shells exploding is -behind and before. And (pause!) -we are used to it! We are used -to raining; used to going without -washes for days; used to driving -German columns back; used to -mud, cold nights, and a terrific -quantity of detail that varies from -day to day. We have a knack of -sticking to what we gain, and there -you can feel proud of us all. For -we ought to be swamped by superiority -of numbers and guns. But -our methods under fire are, if not -perfect, very good. We are officered -by excellent men, and we -can <i>feel</i> led. You will under<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span>stand: -<i>A Private of the Bedfordshire -Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>Walnuts and Guards</h3> - -<p>Out here I have seen the finest -and saddest sights of my life. You -see some amusing incidents as well. -The Germans were shelling a field -opposite to us for an unknown -reason, for there were only a few -dead cows there. Some of our -chaps were getting walnuts, and -the German shells were knocking -walnuts down and the men were -picking them up. During the first -day of the battle here two of our -companies were acting as right-flank -guard to the brigade, and we -encountered the Kaiser’s famous -Prussian Guards. We were greatly -outnumbered, and our commanding -officer told us that we killed five -of theirs to one of ours. They -were finely built fellows and a great -height: <i>Lance-Corpl. J. Ryall, 1st -King’s Royal Rifles</i>.</p> - -<h3>Banging Away</h3> - -<p>When I opened your parcel we -were banging away, and I thought -how different a place it was tied up -in. The fags—what a treat!—the -chocolates, papers, and pipe. The -last, by the way, is worth quids, for -the troops have just had an issue of -tobacco, and not many pipes are -available; they get lost or broken. -One thing we are short of, and that -is matches. We all mark time on -someone lighting up, and there’s a -great rush on that one match: -<i>A Trooper of the Royal Horse -Guards</i>.</p> - -<h3>All’s Fair!</h3> - -<p>They say all is fair in love and war, -but it’s awful to see those deadly -shells flying over our head and -sometimes putting some of our pals -out of action. But, thank God, the -wounded are picked up as soon as -possible, and treated with every care -that both women and men nurses -can provide. In fact, I have seen -men who have been badly wounded -with a smile on their faces as though -nothing had happened, and even -while I am writing these few words -under difficulty our boys are laughing -and joking and singing as if we -were at a picnic, and I am sure -they feel quite as happy as if they -were at one in reality: <i>Pte. B. -Marshall, 1st Batt. Loyal North -Lancashires</i>.</p> - -<h3>Unnerving!</h3> - -<p>Every soldier knows that the first -experience of being under fire is -terribly unnerving, and the best -of men will admit that at times -they are tempted to run away. -There was a young lad of the -Worcestershire Regiment who had -this feeling very badly, but he made -up his mind that he would conquer<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> -it, and this is what he did: he made -it a practice to go out of the trenches -and expose himself to German fire -for a bit every day. The poor boy -trembled like a leaf, but his soul -was bigger than the weak little body -holding it, and he went through -that terrible ordeal for a week: -<i>A Sergeant of the York and Lancaster -Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>Caps and Helmets</h3> - -<p>In the first lot of trenches our -men put their caps and helmets -on the top, to give the enemy the -impression we were still there. Believing -the trenches were actually -occupied, the Germans shelled the -position for three-quarters of an -hour before their cavalry discovered -the ruse. Meanwhile the men in -the second trenches had also placed -their helmets on top, but they -did not go away, and the Germans, -deceived, approached within a comparatively -few yards, when they -were met by a tremendous volley -and practically wiped out: <i>Pte. -Shepherd, 1st Lincolnshire Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>Spectral</h3> - -<p>I saw the German trenches as the -French guns left them. They were -filled with dead, but with dead in -such postures as the world has never -seen since the destroying angel -passed above the Philistine camp -in that avenging night of Scripture. -It was as though some blight from -Heaven had fallen upon them. -There they stood in line, rifles to -shoulder, a silent company of ghosts -in the grey light of dawn. It was -as if a deep and sudden sleep -had overtaken them—only their -eyes were open. They might have -been there from all eternity thus, -their rifles at rest: <i>Anonymous</i>.</p> - -<h3>Buried Alive</h3> - -<p>Have you any idea what a trench -is like? It is simply a long cutting -such as the gasmen make when laying -pipes—about 5 ft. deep and -2 ft. wide. You are packed in, -standing room only. No chance -of a wash, or proper rest. They -are supposed to shelter you from rifle -shots and bits of bursting shell. -Every day two or three are killed -or wounded. There is another danger, -too. I had an experience of -it yesterday. A big shell burst -in our trench, and two men and I -were completely buried by the sides -of the trench being blown in. It -was an awful feeling being buried -alive and slowly suffocating. I -wished the shell had hit me, while -I was underneath. Our chaps dug -us out just in time, thank God: -<i>Sergt. Saward, Royal West Kent -Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>Cut and Thrust</h3> - -<p>The German trenches are marvellous. -They are dug right into<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> -the ground, and you might walk -over them for hours without guessing -that there were men hidden away in -them. The wonder is how they -manage to fire at all from them, -but I dare say they are quite effective -against shell fire, and, what’s -more important still, they make it -very hard for our aeroplanes to spot -the Germans and form any estimate -of their strength. We are not -one whit behind them in making -trenches, and you might say that -the whole fight out here is simply -a matter of digging trenches -right up so close that the other -fellow has to run. It’s dull work, -but it’s enlivened now and then by -little fights by day and night, when -the Germans rush out to surprise -us or our generals think it well to -push the enemy a little further -back: <i>A Corporal, at the Aisne</i>.</p> - -<h3>Robinson Crusoe</h3> - -<p>I lost a few good chums. -My ’listing chum was almost blown -to pieces. He belonged to Newcastle, -and was always laughing. -He had to be buried under shell -fire. We had many a good starving -for water, food, and tobacco. -Talking about tobacco, we had to -smoke our tea. I smoked two tea -allowances, and we had a tin box -of tea leaves, which we took out of -a kettle, drying it on our trench -tops. Now a little about the -trenches. Robinson Crusoe wasn’t -in it. Our regiment was in them -eight days without a hot drink, -without a wash, shave, or a decent -bit of food. We could not get -stuff up there, as there was too -much shell fire from the German -side, and our transport could not -get stuff up as the bridge over the -Aisne was broken: <i>Pte. Gray, Northumberland -Fusiliers</i>.</p> - -<h3>Swarms of Them</h3> - -<p>We had dug trenches and were -waiting for something to happen -when a German aeroplane came -high over our lines. Then came a -rain of shells from a wood. The -enemy were about a mile and half -away, but they got the range to a -nicety. People who say that the -German artillery fire is no good -simply don’t know what they are -talking about. I can only figure -it out as being something worse -than the mouth of hell. The Germans -treated us to shell cross-fire, -and a piece of shell hit my rifle—smash! -I pitched forward in the -trench, the muzzle part of the rifle -went into my groin, and I got a -lovely bang with another bit of -shell across the leg. The Germans -came out of the wood in swarms—just -as if a hive had been overturned -and all the bees were let loose. I -thought my number was up: <i>Private -J. Stiles</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span></p> - -<h3>Moving!</h3> - -<p>We congratulated ourselves that -we had got nice cover from which -we could work with the rifle and -for bayonet charges. At night we -slept in the trenches, but at daybreak -we were shelled out of them -in practically no time. It was a -bit of irony—such splendid trenches, -and to be shelled out of them like -that by the Germans. They watched -us work, and then just let us have -it lovely. It is no use saying the -Germans are a “rotten lot” as -fighters, because I think their artillery -is very fine. German aeroplanes -were on top of us, and found -us out every time. They worked -well, helping their troops and giving -the guns the range: <i>A Private of the -1st Cheshires</i>.</p> - -<h3>Come On!</h3> - -<p>We had a whole day of it in the -trenches with the Germans firing -away at us all the time. It began -just after breakfast, and we were -without food of any kind until we -had what you might call a dainty -afternoon tea in the trenches under -shell fire. The mugs were passed -round with the biscuits and the -“bully” as best we could by the mess -orderlies, but it was hard work getting -through without getting more -than we wanted. My next-door -neighbour, so to speak, got a shrapnel -bullet in his tin, and another two -doors off had his biscuit shot out -of his hand. We are now ready for -anything that comes our way, and -nothing would please us better than -a good big stand-up fight with the -Germans on any ground they please: -<i>Private G. Ryder</i>.</p> - -<h3>Brave Deeds</h3> - -<p>I am glad to see so many of our -boys recommended for rewards of -various kinds and mentioned in -dispatches. What I fear is that -one-tenth of the brave deeds done -by men in the ordinary course of -their duty will never be heard of. -Many of the men themselves are so -modest that they can’t bear the -publicity associated with it, and I -had a man come to me with tears -in his eyes to beg me not to tell -any officer what he had done. He -was lying in the trenches one day -with a mug of milk that he had -brought from a farm under fire, -when he noticed a wounded Dorset -casting eyes at it. Though he was -sorely in need of it himself, he got -up and said, “You have it, old -chap. I’ll get another.” Out he -raced through the terrible storm of -shot and shell, and came back again -white as a sheet, with another mug -in his trembling hand. He had -been hit badly in coming back: <i>A -Sergeant of the Liverpool Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Shifting Them!”</h3> - -<p>One morning, just about cockcrow, -there was a fearful din outside<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span> -our more or less private apartments -in the trenches, where I had been -snatching two winks after three days -and nights’ hard. The Germans -were on us, and two minutes after -the alarm we were under fire. They -had crept up very close under cover -of darkness, and were in trenches -not more than three hundred yards -away. They must have driven out -our chaps who were in them, and we -got orders to retake the trenches. -There was no fancy work about it. -We were rushed forward in companies. -One half of each company would -rush forward for a few yards, about -twenty, while the second half lay -on the ground firing at the enemy. -Then the first half would lie down -and fire while the second took up -the running. In that way we got -to the trenches with very little loss, -and commenced shifting them in -the way our chaps always shift -undesirables from any place we -want. They were well entrenched, -and it was like digging them out -with the bayonets. We got them -out in the end: <i>A Corporal of the -Durham Light Infantry</i>.</p> - -<h3>Bullets and “Footer”</h3> - -<p>We are a light-hearted lot, and so -are our officers. We dug out for -them a kind of a subterranean mess-room, -where they took their meals. -One fellow decorated it with some -cigarette cards and pictures he cut -out of a French paper. The food -they get is not exactly what would -be supplied to them at the Hotel -Cecil. A jollier and kinder lot -you would not meet in a day’s -march. One officer, who was well -stocked with cigarettes, divided -among his men, and we were able -to repay him for his kindness by -digging him out from his mess-room. -A number of shells tore up the turf, -and the roof and sides fell in like a -castle built of cards, burying him -and two others. They were in a -nice pickle, but we got them out -safe and sound. During the time -we were in these trenches nearly -500 shells burst over and around us, -but, as the protection was so good, -not a single chap was killed, and -less than a dozen were wounded. -When we were able to get into the -open air once more and stretch our -legs, it was then we realized what -we had been subjected to, for the -ground was literally strewn with -burst shells. If all goes well we are -going to have a football match to-morrow, -as I have selected a team -from our lot to play the Borderers, -who are always swanking what they -can do: <i>Pte. Harris, West Kent -Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>Gallant Frenchmen</h3> - -<p>In a little village near to Soissons, -where I got my wound, there was a -half-battalion of Frenchmen posted -with some machine guns to hold a -position, and their instructions were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> -that they were not to yield an inch -to the Germans no matter what -happened. For two days and nights -they fought their corner against ten -times their own number of Germans, -but on the third night the enemy -concentrated all their spare guns -on the village, and followed that up -with a ferocious attack from all -arms. The Frenchmen shot away till -their arms ached, and their heads -burned, and their throats were -parched with thirst, and they were -weak with hunger. They could -not stop that ceaseless rush of -Germans, who had orders to take -the village or die. Step by step -the French were forced back, and at -last those left were driven into -some farm buildings, where they -took shelter. These were set on -fire after a time, and the men, who -would not surrender, had no other -choice but to rush out and be shot -down as they came. They did that, -and next day we arrived to find the -Germans in possession. We cleared -them out after a hard fight, however, -and helped to make things -square: <i>A Gunner of the Royal -Artillery</i>.</p> - -<h3>Hoist!</h3> - -<p>Quite the most awful thing I -ever set eyes on was early one -morning, close to Soissons. The -Germans had taken up a position -of great strategical value, and -entrenched themselves so cleverly -that nothing on earth seemed to -shift them. They had got to be -shifted, however, and, because we -didn’t make any attempts to do it -by direct attack, they got a bit -“chesty,” and fancied themselves -quite secure. All the while our -engineers were feverishly at work -night and day, carefully burrowing -their way through the ground to -where the Germans were. One -morning everything was ready. We -opened fire, and a feint was made -against the position. The Germans -stood to arms behind their -trenches, and kept firing at us. -We knew what was coming, and -didn’t press too closely, but just at -the appointed time there was a terrible -roar in front, and a great big -cloud of earth, stones, and the -mangled limbs of men and horses -shot up into the sky. The mine -which our mud-larks had been preparing -for so long had been sprung -at last, and the German defenders -of the trenches saw for themselves -that it is not always the open foe -that is to be feared most. For -yards around that position the sight -was a sickening one. Many of the -defenders were torn limb from limb, -and the cries of those who remained -alive were awful. I never saw anything -to equal it, except on one -occasion when I was in a pit explosion -in the North: <i>A Corporal -of the Coldstream Guards</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span></p> - -<h3>“One Red Burial Blent”</h3> - -<p>The Germans are getting up to -all the tricks of the trade so far as -making themselves secure against -infantry or shell fire is concerned. -At first they didn’t seem to mind -what happened, and were always on -the move just to walk over us, but -when they found that it took two -to make a bargain in the walking-over -line they began to get more -cautious, and now they get into -holes in the ground that would -make you think you had gone out -rabbit-hunting if it weren’t for the -size of the game when you catch -them. Their trenches are mighty -deep, and you can’t always say -rightly what’s in them. There was -a chap of the Warwicks who went -peeping into one of these holes the -other day, and before he knew what -to think he found himself looking -down the muzzle of a German rifle. -He got out of the way with only a -little nick in the arm, but he might -have lost his life. They had the -dickens of a job to ferret that -German out of his place, but they -did get him out, though it was only -to put him in again, as he wouldn’t -surrender, and his pit came in -handy for a grave: <i>Gunner Hughes, -of the Royal Field Artillery</i>.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="Chap_XIII" id="Chap_XIII">XIII. GALLANT DEEDS</a></h2> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">And gentlemen in England, now a-bed,</div> -<div class="i0">Shall think themselves accursed they were not here;</div> -<div class="i0">And hold their manhoods cheap, whiles any speaks</div> -<div class="i0">That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s Day.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Shakespeare’s</span> “Henry V.” -</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">They went with songs to the battle, they were young,</div> -<div class="i0">Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow,</div> -<div class="i0">They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted;</div> -<div class="i0">They fell with their faces to the foe.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Laurence Binyon’s</span> “For the Fallen.” -</p> - -<p>When we got the order to retire -I found that both my boots were -full of blood. When I took them -off I found that my feet had swollen -and there were two big holes in my -heels: <i>Private E. Young</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Hand-shake!</h3> - -<p>The officer said, “Baker, our -time has come. Be brave, and die -like a man. Good-bye.” He shook -hands with me. I shall always remember -the minutes that followed: -<i>A Mechanic of the English Flying -Corps</i>.</p> - -<h3>Unhurt!</h3> - -<p>I saw one of the Bays, a lance-corporal, -run towards the enemy with -a machine gun on his shoulders. -He fired several rounds at them, -and escaped without a scratch. He -was promoted to the rank of sergeant -for that: <i>Pte. Fill, 5th Dragoon -Guards</i>.</p> - -<h3>What the Irish Did</h3> - -<p>I saw a handful of Irishmen -throw themselves in front of a -regiment of cavalry trying to cut -off a battery of Horse Artillery. -Not one of the poor lads got away -alive, but they made the German -devils pay in kind, and anyhow -the artillery got away: <i>Private A. -McGillivray</i>.</p> - -<h3>“A Regular Devil”</h3> - -<p>There was a man of the Buffs -who carried a wounded chum for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> -over a mile under German fire, but -if you mentioned recommending -that chap for the Cross he’d punch -your head, and as he’s a regular -devil the men of his regiment say -as little as they can about it: <i>A -Driver of the Royal Field Artillery</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Into ’Em, Lads!”</h3> - -<p>Your son and I had fought side -by side, and he missed me. The -noble lad came back through fires -of hell and carried me to safety. -He was wounded, but not dangerously. -We are all proud of that -boy; he is always in the thick of -it. All over the line you could -hear him: “Into ’em, lads; the -sooner we get through, the sooner -we’ll get home”: <i>Gunner Batey, -Royal Garrison Artillery</i>.</p> - -<h3>The Old Royals</h3> - -<p>Captain Brussell, D.S.O., who -directed the movement, shouted, -“Cheer up, men; you all belong -to the Royal Scots. If we go down -we are dying for the Old Royals.” -These were his last words, for he -fell immediately the charge had -begun, struck down by two bullets -from the Maxim: <i>Corpl. McGlade, -Royal Scots</i>.</p> - -<h3>Gallantry</h3> - -<p>Lieutenant Geoffrey Lambton, -nephew of the Earl of Durham, -was in charge of us in the wood, -and was directing our fire from a -mound. The lieutenant had given -orders to fire, had picked up a rifle, -and was in the act of firing himself -when he was fatally wounded by a -German bullet. He knew he was -done for, and he gave me his pocketbook, -note-book, and sketch-book to -bring back to his people: <i>Pte. -Roberts, Coldstream Guards</i>.</p> - -<h3>Brought Him In</h3> - -<p>I saw a fine thing. We went out -to take some German prisoners, -when the German artillery began -to shell us. We got orders to -retire, and on the way poor Jack -Anderson got hit in the neck. Billy -Flaxington, one of our fellows, at -once went out in front of a shower -of bullets and brought him in. -Even our officers cheered. It showed -the Germans what Kirkstall Road -lads are made of: <i>Rifleman W. -Sissons, of Leeds</i>.</p> - -<h3>Skedaddled!</h3> - -<p>I heard of a corporal of the -Fusiliers Brigade who held a company -of Germans at bay for two -hours by the old trick of firing at -them from different points, and so -making them think they had a -crowd to face. He was getting on -very well until a party of cavalry -outflanked him, as you might say. -As they were right on top of him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> -there was no kidding them about -his “strength,” so he skedaddled: -<i>A Driver of the Royal Field Artillery</i>.</p> - -<h3>An Air Duel</h3> - -<p>Our artillery were unable to bring -down a German aeroplane flying -right above us, when suddenly a -French aeroplane rose like a shot -and hovered above the German -machine, which was flying over our -trenches from end to end. What -really happened I don’t know, but -shots having been exchanged between -the aeroplanes, the next -thing we saw was the German -spinning around us as if all control -had been lost. It came down with -a sickening crash just beyond us: -<i>Private D. Schofield</i>.</p> - -<h3>Under Heavy Fire</h3> - -<p>I saw the brave rescue of a private -by young Lieutenant Amos. The -man was named Varley, and had -been shot in the liver. Although -Varley was over 11 stone the young -subaltern went alone to his aid, and, -under very heavy fire, carried him to -safety. The news of the death of -Lieutenant Amos in hospital three -weeks later was received with great -regret by all who saw his self-sacrifice -on that occasion: <i>A Private -of the 2nd King’s Own Scottish -Borderers</i>.</p> - -<h3>Never Say Die!</h3> - -<p>In camp one night a German -prisoner told us about a Lancashire -Fusilier who had been cut off and -refused to surrender to 200 Germans. -He lay on the ground and -kept firing away until he hadn’t a -cartridge left, and as his bayonet -was gone, he stood up with folded -arms while they shot him down. -There was a sackful of bullets in -him at least, but he killed twelve -and wounded over thirty of his foes -before the end came: <i>A Private of -the Coldstream Guards</i>.</p> - -<h3>Onward and Away!</h3> - -<p>One of our lads did a daring -thing last week. Somehow he got -left behind, and when he found his -bearings, he was right in the heart -of the German lines. He put spurs -to his nag, and made a dash to get -through their lines. They were -after him like a whirlwind, but he -rode for half a mile with the whole -army shooting at him. Then he -found his path barred by a squadron -of Uhlans. He bore madly down -on them as though he intended to -ride right into them, but, just when -he was within a few feet of them, he -swerved to the left and dashed by -with only a flesh wound in the leg: -<i>Pte. H. Hill, 4th (Royal Irish) -Dragoon Guards</i>.</p> - -<h3>Hit Four Times</h3> - -<p>I was pulling one of our officers -out of the firing line when I got<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> -hit. He had been hit four times -and he was going mad and jumping -up. Well, that was giving our -position away, so I held him down -till we got the command to retire. -Then I pulled him a good way with -me, and all the others had got -away from the firing line and the -Germans were only fifty yards -from me when the officer died. I -had to leave him then and I crawled -along till I came on the road. Then -I met a sergeant, who took me to a -church which was being used as a -hospital: <i>Pte. J. Hayden, King’s -Own Royal Lancashire Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>Sticking to Him</h3> - -<p>I saw an awful sight: a man of -the Royal Irish with six wounds -from shrapnel. He called me for -water, but I had none. I managed -to carry him about half a mile and -found water: then he was as happy -as if he was not wounded. I stuck -to him although he was heavy, and -I was feeling weak and tired. I -had to carry him across a big field -of turnips; when half way I slipped, -and we both fell. I then had a -look back, and could see the fire -mountains high. “Thank God!” -I said to him, “we are out of that; -it’s worse than bullets”: <i>Private G. -Kay, at Mons</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Boldly They Rode!”</h3> - -<p>Two drivers of the Royal Field -Artillery brought a gun out of action -with shells bursting around -them. They had noticed that the -gunners had been all killed, but -calmly and heroically walked their -horses down to the gun. One -driver held the horses under a terrific -fire, while the other limbered -up, and the gun was brought safely -back, neither men nor horses being -hit. They had a miraculous escape. -As we watched them from the -trenches we thought it impossible -for them to escape death: <i>Corpl. -Bignell, Royal Berks Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Basted” Him!</h3> - -<p>A private of the South Staffords, -named Murphy, performed a gallant -deed. They were on outpost duty, -and were being continually picked -off by snipers. One night Murphy -got a wound in the arm, and, in -broad Irish, he vowed he would find -the sniper. Despite the remonstrances -of his officers he kept on -hunting for him. Two nights later -Murphy was missing from his post, -but the sniping had stopped. Later -on, search being made for him, he -was found lying at the foot of a big -tree, close beside the body of the -sniper, who was pinned to the -ground with Murphy’s bayonet. -Murphy told the officer that when -he located “the blighter” he was -high up in the tree. Getting underneath -he threatened to shoot, when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> -the German dropped his rifle and -scrambled down. “Then I gave -him a good basting with my fists, -and finished off by pinning him -down”: <i>Pte. J. Smith, 3rd Coldstream -Guards</i>.</p> - -<h3>Help the Others!</h3> - -<p>There was an English regiment -out in front of us who had been -getting it pretty hot all the morning, -and, towards the evening, we saw a -small party of their wounded coming -in, among them a young subaltern, -just a lad. His coat was off, and -he stood bareheaded grasping his -revolver in one hand. He had had -the other arm blown clean away at -the shoulder. Someone had dressed -it temporarily for him, but he was -anxious to find a doctor, and asked -one of our officers where the nearest -doctor was. Our officer told him -where to find one, but added, -“You’re not fit to go alone owing -to the blood you’re losing. I shall -get some of our men to help,” “Oh, -I don’t require help,” he remarked, -“and the poor devils have enough -to do to carry themselves out of -this hell.” With that he went -away smiling. Help! He wouldn’t -have it at any cost: <i>Pte. A. Russell, -2nd Seaforth Highlanders</i>.</p> - -<h3>Facing Death</h3> - -<p>Lieut. Pottinger did one of the -pluckiest things that have been -done in the war. He and his -section were blowing up a bridge -under fire. They laid the charge, -and the section retired, Lieut. -Pottinger and a sapper remaining -behind to light the fuse. This they -did, but apparently something went -wrong with the detonator, and the -charge did not explode. The sapper -then fired ten rounds with his rifle -at the charge without success. -Lieut. Pottinger then said, “I’ll -make the d—— thing go off,” -shook hands with the sapper, and -went to the bridge. There he put -the muzzle of his revolver to the -charge and fired all six cartridges. -The charge still did not explode, -and they had to leave the bridge -still standing, as they were driven -back by the Germans. If that -charge had gone off the lieutenant -would have disappeared, and he -knew it as well as I do: <i>A Royal -Engineer</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Scotland for Ever!”</h3> - -<p>The Scots Greys galloped forward -with us hanging on to their stirrups, -and it was a sight never to be forgotten. -We were simply being -dragged by the horses as they flew -forward through a perfect cloud of -bullets from the enemy’s Maxims. -Saddles were being emptied quickly -as we closed on the German lines, -and tore past their Maxims, which -were in the front ranks. We were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> -on the German gunners before they -knew where they were, and many -of them went down in their gore, -scarcely realizing that we were -amongst them. Then the fray -commenced in deadly earnest. The -Black Watch and the Scots Greys -went into it like men possessed. -They fought like demons. It was -our bayonets against the Germans’ -swords. The German swords were -no use against us. They went down -in hundreds, and still the deadly -work of the bayonet continued. -The enemy began to waver as the -carnage amongst them increased, -and they soon broke and fled like -rabbits: <i>Pte. W. Morton, 1st Batt. -Black Watch</i>.</p> - -<h3>Succouring the Wounded</h3> - -<p>Three of my comrades were sent -out on patrol, when they were fired -on by the Germans. One got back -to the trenches, though I was told -two had returned. One I saw was -wounded, and I volunteered to save -him. I went out and was heavily -fired at, but I made up my mind -to get him—and you know I very -seldom change that. Well, I persevered -and got to one who was -past human aid. I had missed the -wounded one, who was lying nearer -the trenches. I came back to the -trench and reported the one dead. -I then went out again to the -wounded man and, with the help -of Corporal Brown, brought him -safely back: <i>Pte. Dobson, Coldstream -Guards</i>.</p> - -<h3>Up the Hill</h3> - -<p>My regiment was acting advance -guard, and my company was well in -advance, when we came to a hill -covered with thick brushwood. -Some French cavalry were sent out -to do a bit of scouting. They came -back and reported the hill clear. -Well, we continued our march along -the road, but, just as we came under -the hill, the Germans opened a -terrible fire on us. The hill was -entrenched from top to bottom, but -the trenches were well hidden in the -brush. The first line was only -about ninety yards from us, and the -first volley bowled over a lot of my -company. There were also two -companies of the Camerons attached -to us. There was nothing for it -but the bayonet, and before you -could say “Jack Robinson” we -were in their first line of trenches. -They ran like rabbits. Then we -got reinforced by the remainder of -the regiment, and the hill was taken: -<i>A Private of the Black Watch</i>.</p> - -<h3>Harry Lauder’s Songs</h3> - -<p>I want to let the public know -how the Black Watch went through -it. Well, it was a terrible bit of -work, but our fellows stuck to their -ground like men—the men of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> -bulldog breed the kiddies sing about -at school. The Germans were as -thick as the “Hielan” heather, and -by sheer weight forced us back step -by step. But we had our orders, -and every man stuck to them, and -until the order came not a livin’ man -flinched. We stuck there popping -off the Germans as fast as we could, -and all around us the German shells -were bursting. And in the thick -of it all we were singing Harry -Lauder’s latest. Aye, laddie, it was -grand; all around us were the dead -and dying, and every now and then -the German shells would burst, and -as we peppered away at ’em we sang -about “Roamin’ in the gloamin’” -and “The Lass of Killiecrankie”: -<i>A Corporal of the Black Watch</i>.</p> - -<h3>Didn’t Know Defeat</h3> - -<p>After the firing had lasted for -two and a half hours the order to -retire was given and we retired -through a wood. Then General -Davis came along and said, “Turn -about, men—you must save the -guns at all costs.” There were only -about fifty of us. We made a series -of short rushes under a heavy shrapnel -fire until we were up to the -guns. The Germans were not more -than eight hundred yards away, but -we were getting very few burst -shells, while we could see the Germans -going down in scores. Every -shot of ours told, as it was impossible -to miss the enemy, who had -formed from six to ten deep. We -could see our artillery shells simply -mowing the Germans down. Still -they came on. Presently the order -rang out to abandon the guns, but -gallant young Lieut. Hibbert said, -“No, boys; we will never let a -German take a British gun!” Then -our chaps raised a cheer, and resumed -rapid firing. Presently we -were reinforced by the South Staffords. -The guns’ crews stuck to -their task most heroically, and, -amid cheering, we rescued the whole -of them: <i>Sergt. Meads, Royal -Berks</i>.</p> - -<h3>Duty and—Death</h3> - -<p>We occupied an exposed position -on the left of the Aisne, and one -night we only escaped being wiped -out by mere chance, combined with -as fine a deed of heroism as I have -ever heard of. There was a man of -the Manchester Regiment who was -lying close to the German lines -terribly wounded. He happened to -overhear some conversation between -German soldiers, and, being familiar -with the language, he gathered that -they intended to attack the position -we held that night. In spite of -his wounds he decided to set out to -warn us of the danger, and he set -out on the weary tramp of over five -miles. He was under fire from the -moment he got to his feet, but he -stumbled along in spite of that, and -soon got out of range. Later he<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span> -ran into a patrol of Uhlans, but -before they saw him he dropped -to earth and shammed being dead. -They passed by without a sign, and -then he resumed his weary journey. -By this time the strain had told on -him and his wound began to bleed, -marking his path towards our -lines with thin red streaks. In -the early morning, just half an -hour before the time fixed for -the German attack, he staggered -into one of our advanced posts, and -managed to tell his story to the -officer in charge before collapsing in -a heap. Thanks to the information -he gave, we were ready for the -Germans when they came, and beat -them off; but his anxiety to warn -us had cost him his life. The doctors -said that the strain had been too -much for him, and next day he -died: <i>A Corporal of the Northumberland -Fusiliers</i>.</p> - -<h3>“He Saved Others”</h3> - -<p>We were working in touch with -a French corps on our left, and -early one morning we were sent -ahead to this village, which we had -reason to believe was clear of the -enemy. On the outskirts we questioned -a French lad, but he seemed -scared and ran away. We went on -through the long narrow street, -and just as we were in sight of the -end a man dashed out from a farmhouse -on the right. Immediately -the rifles began to crack in front, -and the poor chap fell dead before -he reached us. He was one of our -men, a private of the ——. We -learned that he had been captured -the previous day by a party of -German cavalry, and had been held -a prisoner at the farm, where the -Germans were in ambush for us. -He guessed their game, and though -he knew that if he made the -slightest sound they would kill him, -he decided to make a dash to warn -us of what was in store. He had -more than a dozen bullets in him. -We buried him next day with -military honours. His identification -disc and everything else was -missing, so that we could only put -over his grave the tribute, “He -saved others.” There wasn’t a dry -eye among us when we laid him -to rest in that little village: <i>A -Corporal at the Aisne</i>.</p> - -<h3>Heroes All</h3> - -<p>In one of our fights it was necessary -to give orders to a battalion -holding an exposed position to -retire. Bugle-calls were no good, -and the only thing was for men to -risk their lives by rushing across an -open space of 400 yards at least -under a hellish fire. Volunteers -were asked for from the Royal -Irish Fusiliers, and, though every -man knew that he was taking his -life in his hand, the whole lot volunteered. -They couldn’t all go, so -they tossed for it in files, the man<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> -who couldn’t guess the way the coin -came down at least once out of three -times being selected. The first was -a shock-headed chap who didn’t look -as if there was very much in him. -Ducking his head in a comic way -that would have made you roar, -he rushed into that blinding hail -of bullets. He cleared the first -100 yards without being hit. It -was a miracle how he did it, but in -the second lap he was hit. He ran -on for a minute or two, but staggered -and fell after being hit a second -time. Two more men stepped -forward and dashed across while -the Germans were doing their best -to pink them. One picked up the -wounded man and started to carry -him in to the trenches, while the -other ran ahead with the precious -dispatch. Just as the wounded -man and his mate were within a -few yards of safety and we were -cheering them for all we knew, -there was a perfectly wicked volley -from the Germans, and both of -them collapsed. We dragged them -in, but it was too late. Both were -dead. The fourth man kept up his -race against death and seemed to -bear a charmed life, but in the last -lap as you might say he went down -like a felled ox. He was seen from -the trenches to which the message -was being taken, and half a dozen -men ran out to his aid, the Germans -renewing their fire with greater -fierceness. The whole of the little -party was shot down, but the -wounded Fusilier still continued -to crawl to the trenches with his -message. Another party came out -and carried him in, as well as seeing -to the others. Later the battalion -holding the advanced position was -able to fall back in good order, but -it wasn’t the least bit too soon, and -had it not been for those brave -chaps, who risked their lives to -carry that message, there would -have been a battalion less to fight -our battles that day, as the Germans -were working round unknown -to the officer in command, and -would have cut it off as sure as -I’m a soldier: <i>A Corporal of the -Gloucester Regiment</i>.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="Chap_XIV" id="Chap_XIV">XIV. TALES OF TRAGEDY</a></h2> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">Say not the struggle naught availeth,</div> -<div class="i2">The labour and the wounds are vain,</div> -<div class="i0">The enemy faints not, nor faileth,</div> -<div class="i2">And as things have been they remain.</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">For now by eastern windows only,</div> -<div class="i2">When daylight comes, comes in the light;</div> -<div class="i0">In front the sun climbs slow, how slowly!</div> -<div class="i2">But westward, look, the land is bright!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="author"><span class="smcap">A. H. Clough.</span> -</p> - -<p>Darling,—I am now lying in a -forest with my leg shot off, and -don’t know when the ambulance -will turn up. It’s awful. I hope I -shall see you again. Love to baby -and all: <i>Jack</i>.</p> - -<h3>Invaded!</h3> - -<p>People at home can’t realize what -it means to have their country invaded. -Inoffensive people are sitting -in their homes, when, without the -slightest warning, away comes death -and destruction in the shape of -artillery shells from an enemy that -doesn’t know the meaning of the -first letter of fairplay: <i>Pte. E. Bush, -The Buffs</i>.</p> - -<h3>Better Dead!</h3> - -<p>A live shell burst and hit one -poor fellow in the lower part of the -body. I asked him if I could do -anything for him, and he said, “Yes; -have you got a rifle?” “Yes,” I -said. “Well,” he said, “for God’s -sake shoot me out of my misery.” -I told him I could not do that, so -I gave him water: <i>Pte. F. Bruce, -Suffolk Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>Of Wife and Child</h3> - -<p>In our trenches on the Aisne -after a hard fight we found one of -the Gloucesters with an unfinished -letter in his hand. It was written -to his wife and little girl. It spoke -hopefully of the future, and said, -“Tell Annie I will be home in -time to make her Christmas tree.” -He never got further, for a German -shell had laid him out: <i>A Seaforth -Highlander</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span></p> - -<h3>Loot!</h3> - -<p>The looting has been awful; -beautiful homes broken up, and -articles of clothing, household linen, -pictures, and furniture smashed -to atoms and trodden under foot. -They took away the wines, for -on our advance up country the -numerous German camps were strewn -with bottles, articles of equipment, -and other things too numerous to -mention. They leave their killed -by the side of the roads, and in the -streets of villages—anywhere, in -fact: <i>Sergt.-Major H. Attree, 18th -Hussars</i>.</p> - -<h3>The Roll call</h3> - -<p>The horrors of war can only be -imagined; yet we seem to get used -to them. It seems callous to me, -but after the battle we have roll-call. -The sergeant calls out the -names. Perhaps the first one he -calls is missing. Nobody knows -where he is. The next one is -called, and somebody says, “I saw -him shot.” The sergeant puts him -down as “shot” or “wounded.” -Nobody comments or says anything: -<i>Corporal R. W. Crow, Royal -Engineers</i>.</p> - -<h3>Reading Ruskin</h3> - -<p>I came on a wounded man of -the Lancashire Fusiliers one day. -He had two ghastly wounds in his -breast, and I fancy he was booked -through. He was quietly reading -a little edition of Ruskin’s “Crown -of Wild Olive,” and seemed to be -enjoying it immensely. As I chatted -with him for a few minutes he told -me that this little book had been -his companion all through and that -when he died he wanted it to be -buried with him. His end came -next day, and we buried the book -with him: <i>A Sergeant of the Fifth -Lancers</i>.</p> - -<h3>“All Right!”</h3> - -<p>After being under the deadliest -of shell fire for eight days I was hit, -but, thank God, no bones broken. -I shall never forget my poor chum. -He had his leg broken with the -bone sticking out, and also a great -gash in the thigh. But the one -glorious thing about it is, as soon -as we realized we were hit, we joined -in prayer to our Father, after -which we helped one another to -bandage ourselves up. I haven’t -seen him since they carried us out -of the trenches, but I am sure he is -all right: <i>Pte. W. Marshall, 1st -Devonshire Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>Keepsakes!</h3> - -<p>The shortest will I have ever -heard of was made one night by a -chap of the Royal Scots. He was -bowled over in a rush at the -German trenches, and, with what -must have been his dying breath,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> -he shouted after his chum, “Jock, -ye can hae ma fags.” Later we -came on him dead, and Jock got -the fags all right in his breast -pocket; but I don’t think he -would part with them if he wanted -a smoke ever so, and none of us -would have asked him to do it: <i>A -Cameron Highlander</i>.</p> - -<h3>Nellie’s Anxiety</h3> - -<p>I suppose Nellie is very anxious -over me, but tell her I am going on -grand, and am delighted I am -living and able to use my rifle. As -long as I can account for a German -life every time I get the chance, -that is all I care about, and every -other British soldier is just the -same. It is marvellous the pluck -of our officers; they would face -anything, and where they go we -follow them, and would follow them -anywhere. We have a lot of our -officers killed; and it is a pity, -poor fellows, for they are brave -men. When we get close to the -Germans they run like hell from -our rifle fire, and then we get a -grand chance at them: <i>Sergt. E. F. -Eagar, Royal Irish Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>The Dog It Was!</h3> - -<p>There was a big, awkward, gawky -lad of the Camerons who took a -fancy to a Scotch collie that had -followed us about a lot, and one -day the dog got left behind when -we were falling back. The big lad -was terribly upset, and went back -to look for it. He found it, and -was trudging along with it in his -arms, making forced marches to -overtake us, when he fell in with a -party of Uhlans on the prowl. He -and his dog fought their best, but -they hadn’t a chance, and both were -killed: <i>A Private of the Highland -Light Infantry</i>.</p> - -<h3>The Trail of the Sword</h3> - -<p>It is a shame to see the lovely -homes that have been deserted, the -people trekking along the roads -with any belongings they can manage -to carry with them or wheel on -barrows, and women with little -babies in arms flying for their lives, -and perhaps an old mother being -helped along behind. These sights -make lumps come in your throat, -and make you think what it would -be if a similar thing were to happen -at home. When we first came here -we went right through into Belgium, -and as we were retiring the Germans -were setting fire to all villages. It -was a common thing to see two or -three villages alight at the same -time: <i>A British Gunner</i>.</p> - -<h3>His Loved Ones</h3> - -<p>Just as he was going into battle -a man of the Staffordshire Regiment -received a letter announcing the -sudden death of his wife and baby<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span> -daughter. There was no time for -tears or vain regrets, and he had to -go into the fight with his heart -stricken with that terrible grief. In -the fighting he acquitted himself -like a hero, and just as we were -retiring he received a mortal wound. -I offered a word of sympathy, but -he would not hear of it. “Never -mind,” he said, “I’m booked -through; but I have sent a few -Germans before; and, anyhow, I -am going to see the ones I love”: -<i>A Sergeant of the 9th Lancers</i>.</p> - -<h3>Vultures</h3> - -<p>We came on a German who had -been pinned down under a gun-carriage -that had to be abandoned. -He could not extricate himself, and -he simply had to lie there with two -loathsome vultures waiting to nibble -at him when the last spark of life -had gone. He was relieved when -we found him, for you can imagine -it’s not nice to see these awful -creatures waiting to make a meal of -you. Whenever we see them we -kill them, but they are always -hovering about the battlefields, and -they always follow our men on the -march. Some instinct seems to tell -them when to expect dead men. -They are terribly afraid of the -aeroplanes, and when the machines -are up vultures clear out of the -way: <i>Pte. T. R. Morgan, Royal -Field Artillery</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Song of Death</h3> - -<p>I am a bit down in the mouth -over a thing that happened last -night. We had a bit of a sing-song -and smoker to mark the arrival in -camp of a couple of boxes of -cigarettes. My best chum, the one -I have told you about so often, was -called on for a song, and, just as he -took his fag out of his mouth to -oblige, a shell dropped into us, and -he was badly wounded on the side -and in the head. “I’m done for, -George,” was all he had time to say, -and off he went. He was a fine -chum. No man ever had better, -and we were all cut up about it. -He had a wife and four children at -home. God only knows what will -become of them now: <i>A Sergeant of -the 1st Division Staff</i>.</p> - -<h3>No More Cold Trenches</h3> - -<p>There was a chap of the Berkshires -who, like many more of us, -had ’listed after a row with his -girl. At the crossing of the Aisne -he got hit, and he had just breath -enough to tell me the name of the -girl, and ask me to write to her. -“Tell her,” he said, “I’m sorry we -had that row, but it was for the -best, for if we hadn’t had it I should -not have been able to do my bit for -my country. It seems awfully hard -that I can never see her again to -explain things to her, but I’m sure -she will think better of me now<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span> -than if I had been one of the stay-at-homes. -Good-bye, old chap; -there’ll be no more cold nights in -the trenches for me, anyhow”: <i>A -Private of the Leicestershire Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Lady’s Handkerchief</h3> - -<p>I found myself mixed up with a -French regiment on the right. I -wanted to go forward with them, but -the officer in charge shook his head -and smiled. “They will spot you -in your khaki and put you out in no -time,” he said in English; “make -your way to the left; you’ll find -your fellows on that hill.” I watched -the regiment till it disappeared; -then I made my way across a field -and up a big avenue of trees. The -shells were whistling overhead, but -there was nothing to be afraid of. -Half-way up the avenue there was -a German lancer officer lying dead -by the side of the road. How he -got there was a mystery because we -had seen no cavalry. But there he -lay, and someone had crossed his -hands on his breast and put a -little celluloid crucifix in his hands. -Over his face was a beautiful little -handkerchief—a lady’s—with a lace -edging. It was a bit of a mystery -because there wasn’t a lady for miles -that I knew of: <i>A British Infantryman</i>.</p> - -<h3>All Gone</h3> - -<p>Letters have just arrived. How -sad that the men cannot have them. -We call the names out, but there -is no answer. They perhaps know -in heaven. Old England, when she -hears about the battle, will be proud -of us. The Germans were ten to -one, and we outfought them. I -have lost nearly all my best chums, -and have seen some terrible sights. -My pack was blown from my back, -my cap was taken away, and a bullet -or shell stripped my trousers from -my thigh to the knee. Our colonel -and nearly all the officers are gone. -One chap in my company, only -eighteen and a half years, had both -legs blown away. The sergeant you -shook hands with, ——, has gone: -<i>Sergt. Roberts, Loyal Lancashires</i>.</p> - -<h3>Fired!</h3> - -<p>One night we spent in a pretty -old village, where the people were -very hospitable. They made some -of us a bed on a cottage floor, and -gave us food. Said good-bye and -left about 5 <span class="small">A.M.</span> A few hours -later we looked back and saw the -flames of the place mounting to the -sky. Fired by the enemy, was the -fate of that village and many more -for giving our troops shelter for a -night. Have seen thousands of -refugees on the roads flying from -the enemy, carrying all their worldly -possessions on their backs. One -sees many sad sights of this nature. -Women tramping wearily along, -sobbing with terror at the booming -of the great guns and the distant<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> -glare of blazing homesteads. We -have also seen hundreds of German -prisoners, mostly looking “fed up.” -Tried to have a chat with one the -other morning, but owing to our -respective knowledge of English -and German being limited, conversation -was ditto. Have just -been told it’s Sunday to-day. Had -quite lost count, as all days seem -much alike: <i>Corpl. F. W. Street, -R.E.</i></p> - -<h3>One Taken!</h3> - -<p>With Tom Caisley on one side -and Joe Fair on the other I was -hopping along, with the shells -bursting all around us. My -strength was going, when I turned -to Tom and said, “I’m beat, Tom,” -but he answered, “Stick it, son.” -I shall never forget his words, and -I did “stick it,” till he saw two -fellows with a stretcher and called -them over. I was put on the -stretcher and shook hands with -Tom and Joe, wishing them good-bye. -Then they went back to the -firing line, and I was taken to a -cave, where I had my leg dressed; -the bullet had gone right through -the thigh. I had only been in this -place about half an hour when a -chap called Nicholson was brought -in wounded, and I asked him if -Tom and Joe were all right. He -gave me a shock when he said Joe -Fair had been killed while assisting -him. I must confess that I cried, -for Joe had been chums with Tom -and me for years: <i>Private Thomas -Elliott</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Dash for It</h3> - -<p>I met a man belonging to C -Company of the Gordons who was -bleeding very much. He shouted -to me, “For God’s sake take me -out of action.” I put him on a -stretcher with the help of another -bearer. We lifted him up, and just -then a shell broke a tree in half -close by. The trunk fell right -across the man’s head, killing him -at once. It was getting dusk and -we could not find out where our -company was, as they had retired -fighting. I walked about the woods -very quietly at night with three others -and then heard some English voices. -We looked ahead and saw a battery -of artillery in a lane in front of us. -They said they were ambushed -between two lines of fire, and -shouted, “Come, get a gun, and -take pot luck with us.” We started, -although twenty-four of the first -team’s horses were shot, the middle -driver was dead, and the one on -the second leading horse was -wounded in the head. We all -decided to make a dash for it in -the morning. We did so over dead -horses and men and found our -regiment at 3 <span class="small">A.M.</span> In the meantime -we had got some corn from -the fields, but for three days we -had nothing to eat and drink but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> -apples, dirty water, and red wine: -<i>Bandsman T. Winstanley</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Cave Disaster</h3> - -<p>I have had some experiences, but -I think the saddest was the digging -out of a number of men from a kind -of subterranean passage or cave, -which had fallen in and buried -about thirty of the Camerons. -The other night information was -brought to the camp that the -Cameron Highlanders had met with -a disaster, and I was sent off immediately -with a party of our -chaps to go to their assistance. -We were taken to a spot on a hillside, -which reminded me of the -caves of Cheddar, and which had -been shelled. The turf and earth -were thrown up in all directions as -the result of a bombardment. -There were several large and small -caves, and one of them had been -used as a hiding-place by the -Camerons. No doubt this was -spotted by the Germans, for they -directed their guns on it, and it -collapsed. The poor fellows were -buried underneath many tons of -earth. This happened early in the -day, and although several attempts -had been made to extricate the -men, very little could be done, as -the bursting of the shells on the -same spot drove off the small rescue -parties. I had to leave before the -work was completed, but I helped -to dig out two dead officers and -several men. The position of these -caves was well known to the Germans, -for they had previously occupied -them, and no doubt took a -fiendish delight in smashing them -up when they saw the Camerons -take shelter in them: <i>Sapper G. A. -Bell, Royal Engineers</i>.</p> - -<h3>An Irish Rifle</h3> - -<p>There was a young chap of the -Irish Rifles. He was kneeling -beside a wounded man of the -Gloucester, keeping off the Germans, -who were circling round like -carrion birds. He had been hit -himself, but was gamely firing at -the enemy as fast as his wounded -arm would permit. We went to -his assistance, but they were both -worn-out when we reached them, -and, greatly to our regret, we had -to leave them to be picked up by -the Red Cross people. That was -hard; but if you tried to pick up -every wounded man you saw you -wouldn’t be much use as a fighter, -and as we were under urgent orders -to take up a position from which to -cover the retreat, we had no time -for sentiment. They knew that, -and they weren’t the men to ask us -to risk the safety of the army for -them. “Never mind,” the rifleman -said, with a faint smile on a ghastly -face, “the sisters will pick us up -when it’s all over, but if they don’t, -sure, then we’ve only got once to -die, and it’s the grand fight we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span> -had, anyhow. What more could -soldiers ask for?” When we came -back again one of the men was -there sure enough—stone dead; -but his mate had gone, and whether -it was the Germans or the Red -Cross people that got him I -wouldn’t care to say: <i>A Trooper -of the Irish Dragoons</i>.</p> - -<h3>The Worst Part</h3> - -<p>I think the worst part of it all -to bear is seeing the refugees; it -breaks you up to see people too old to -walk being pushed about in wheelbarrows -and hand-carts. Let the -Germans look out if the French -and the Belgians get into Germany, -for there will be the devil to pay, -I bet. It would be hard to blame -them, whatever they do, after what -I have seen done to villages here.... -The pepper is good stuff; I -put some in my tea—it warms you -up a treat: <i>Bombardier Yorke, -R.H.A.</i></p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="Chap_XV" id="Chap_XV">XV. ANECDOTES OF HUMOUR</a></h2> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">Said the king to the colonel,</div> -<div class="i2">“The complaints are eternal,</div> -<div class="i0">That you Irish give more trouble</div> -<div class="i2">Than any other corps.”</div> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">Said the colonel to the king,</div> -<div class="i2">“This complaint is no new thing,</div> -<div class="i0">For your foemen, sire, have made it</div> -<div class="i2">A hundred times before.”</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.</span> -</p> - -<p>The French tobacco is terrible, -and the matches! Oh! Our fellows -have christened them “Asquiths” -because you have to “wait and see”: -<i>A Private of the R.A.M.C.</i></p> - -<h3>“Blime!”</h3> - -<p>One German Uhlan came up to an -outpost of the Northampton and -said, “Blime, take me a prisoner, I -am fed up.” He had worked in -London: <i>A Private of the Loyal -North Lancashire Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>The Proof of It</h3> - -<p>A woman said laughingly to me, -“If you kill the Kaiser you shall -have my daughter.” I replied that -I could do that all right, and that -she could have a hair of his moustache: -<i>Private R. Coombe</i>.</p> - -<h3>Laughter!</h3> - -<p>Although the war has its stern, -hard, realistic side, there is also a -humorous side, especially so with -our Tommies. They turn almost -everything into a joke; in fact, I -think that is the secret of their -wonderful sang-froid: <i>Quartermaster-Sergt. -Ridewood, 2nd Welsh -Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Great Game</h3> - -<p>What a dirty-looking lot we were—holes -in our clothes and beards. -Every time we passed a clothes-line -the fellows took the clothes off it. -They had lassies’ nightdresses and -chemises, and anything, so long as -it made a shirt. What a game -it was! <i>A Private of the 5th -Lancers</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span></p> - -<h3>“Fine Feeds”</h3> - -<p>We are having good sport out -here. I have got as good a heart -now as I had when I left home. I -tell you, there is nothing better -than having a few shells and bullets -buzzing round you as long as you -don’t stop one. We are having -some fine feeds out here—ducks, -chickens, rabbits, and bags of fruit: -<i>Trooper Maddocks, 5th Cavalry -Brigade</i>.</p> - -<h3>No Tango in Paris</h3> - -<p>The Germans painted on the -walls, “We will make the English -do the Tango in Paris on September -13.” But we have had a say -in that, and I am certain there are -a few thousands less Germans now -than there were since they wrote -that message: <i>Pte. W. Blackburn, -2nd Coldstream Guards</i>.</p> - -<h3>L.B.W.!</h3> - -<p>An officer of the Cheshires, who -is a bit of a cricketer, got uncomfortable -after being cramped so long -in the trenches. He raised his leg -in shifting his position, and a bit -of a shell hit him in the thigh. -As he fell back all he said was, -“Out, by George! l.b.w., as the -umpire would say. Better luck -next innings”: <i>A Trooper of the -Royal Horse Guards</i>.</p> - -<h3>Irish and Merry</h3> - -<p>We are settling down to the hard -grind of active service, and if you -saw us now you would think we well -deserved our regimental nickname, -“The Dirty Shirts.” When you -have wielded the pick and shovel for -a day or two in a blazing sun you -don’t look as though you were going -to a tea party or to chapel: <i>Private -T. Mulligan</i>.</p> - -<h3>Cock-a-Doodle-Doo!</h3> - -<p>It is great fun watching the efforts -of the troops to make the French -people understand what they want. -One of our fellows thought he would -try for some eggs at a farmhouse. -Naturally, they couldn’t understand -him, so he opened his mouth, rubbed -his stomach, flapped his arms, and -cried, “Cock-a-doodle-doo!” The -eggs came promptly: <i>Bombdr. H. -Cressy, Royal Field Artillery</i>.</p> - -<h3>Surrounded Them</h3> - -<p>Pat Ryan, of the Connaught -Rangers, thought he ought to do -something to celebrate his birthday, -which fell on Friday week. Without -telling a soul he went out of -the trenches in the afternoon, and -came back after dusk with two big -Germans in tow. How or where -he got them nobody knows. The -captain asked how he managed to -catch the two. “Sure and I surrounded -them, sorr,” was the answer: -<i>A Gunner of the Royal Artillery</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span></p> - -<h3>Joking not Apart</h3> - -<p>We had six bridges to blow up. -The centre bridge was to go up first, -and we were to get over quickly -after we had laid the charge. -While we were waiting—there were -ten of us—we saw a chap from the -West Kents coming over, and we -told him to jump for his life. The -fuse was actually burning at the -time, and I guess he broke all the -records for jumping. A party of -the King’s Own went into one battle -shouting out, “Early doors this -way. Early doors, ninepence!”: -<i>Sapper Mugridge</i>.</p> - -<h3>Left the Duck</h3> - -<p>I was wounded in rather a curious -manner. Being caterer to the officers’ -mess, I was preparing the dinner, -plucking a duck in the backyard, -when a shell burst, and I was hit on -the shoulder and head. I had laid -the tables for dinner before, and to -my surprise when I was expecting the -return of officers, I was confronted by -a party of Germans, who sat down -and ate a hearty meal, while I -managed to escape. Whether they -finished the plucking and cooking -of the duck, I thought it advisable -not to return and see: <i>Sergt. -Hanks, 4th Middlesex Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>Swimming for Them</h3> - -<p>For two whole days the rain came -down on us in bucketfuls. It was like -having the sea bottom turned upwards -and the contents poured over -us. At one point tents were floating -around like yachts on the lake at the -Welsh Harp. Those who had been -foolish enough to get on the wrong -side of their clothes the night before -had the devil’s own job to find them -in the morning. Swimming after -your things when you wake up isn’t -an aid to quick dressing: <i>A Private -of the Grenadiers</i>.</p> - -<h3>Asked for Him</h3> - -<p>A wounded soldier I picked up the -other day told me an amusing tale, -although he was severely hurt. His -regiment was capturing some Germans, -and they were being disarmed, -when this chap, in asking a German -for his rifle, was bayoneted twice by -the German and fell down unconscious. -When he came round he -said to his pals, “Where is the -blighter?” “Never mind, Mick, -don’t worry,” replied his pals; “we -have just buried him”: <i>Sergt. -Hughes, Army Medical Corps</i>.</p> - -<h3>Mighty Particular</h3> - -<p>There was a chap of the Grenadier -Guards who was always mighty particular -about his appearance, and -persisted in wearing a tie all the -time, whereas most of us reduce our -needs to the simplest possible. One -day, under heavy rifle fire, he was -seen to be in a frightful fluster.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> -“Are you hit?” he was asked. -“No,” he said. “What is it, then?” -“This —— tie is not straight,” he -replied, and proceeded to adjust it -under fire: <i>Corpl. C. Hamer, Coldstream -Guards</i>.</p> - -<h3>Swear Words</h3> - -<p>One night when we were toiling -along like to drop with fatigue, we -ran right into a big party of horsemen -posted near a wood. We -thought they were Germans, for we -could not make out the colour of -the uniforms or anything else, -until we heard someone sing out, -“Where the hell do you think you’re -going to?” Then we knew they -were friends, and I don’t think I was -ever so glad to hear a real good -English swear: <i>A Driver of the -Royal Artillery</i>.</p> - -<h3>Maids of All Work</h3> - -<p>Our Allies were greatly “taken” -with the Highlanders, and many -of them expressed surprise at the -kindly behaviour and hearty manner -of the Scotsmen. Apparently they -thought the “kilties” were of a -rather barbaric nature. Two Highlanders -were billeted with an old -French lady. Her strange lodgers -gave the landlady no end of entertainment. -They insisted on washing -the dishes and doing all the housework, -and when finished with these -duties went the length of delving -the garden: <i>Private D. Goldie</i>.</p> - -<h3>Step Outside</h3> - -<p>In camp one night one of the -German prisoners was chock-full of -peace-at-any-price cant, and talked -a lot about all men being brothers. -This didn’t please Terry Monahan, -an Irish private of the Liverpool -Regiment, and, in a towering rage, -he turned on the German: “You -dirty, church-going, altar-defiling, -priest-murdering German devil,” he -cried, “ye’re no brother of mine, -and by the holy saints if ye’ll only -step outside for wan minit it’s me -will knock all the nonsense out of -yer ugly head”: <i>A Sergeant of the -York and Lancaster Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>Didn’t Wait!</h3> - -<p>There were two lads of our regiment -who were both hit, and there -was only one stretcher for them. -Each had his views about which had -the most need of it first. The big -one got ragged with the other’s refusal, -so raising himself with his -unwounded arm, he cried, “You go -the noo, Jock, an’ if you’re no slippy -about it, you’ll gaur me gae ye something -ye’ll remember when I’m a’ -richt again.” Jock didn’t wait any -longer after that: <i>A Private of the -Highland Light Infantry</i>.</p> - -<h3>Kaiser and Highlander</h3> - -<p>During the advance we saw -chalked notices written by Germans, -such as “Wilhelm, Emperor of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> -Europe.” Then underneath you -would see a British Tommy had -written, “I don’t think.” One curious -incident was the sight of a -Highlander who had taken pity on -a woman refugee who was carrying -two babies. He took one up in each -arm, and carried them along whilst -the woman walked by his side carrying -his rifle. I could not see what -Highland regiment he belonged to -because there was hardly a man who -had a badge: <i>Corpl. W. L. Pook, -Royal Engineers</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Shove-Ha’penny”</h3> - -<p>An infantry chap found a table -and, scoring lines on it with his -bayonet, joined in a game of “shove-ha’penny” -with four other Tommies. -The sequel came later, as -sequels will. When the party managed -to reassemble for another game -a shell had smashed the table to -smithereens. “My luck’s out wi’ -the infernal shove-ha’penny,” said -the infantry chap. “I’m blowed if -I’ll play any more.” Then he explained -that just before the war he -was playing for pots of beer in a -public-house when the police raided -the place. “Now it’s the Germans,” -he added bitterly: <i>A Private of the -Army Medical Corps</i>.</p> - -<h3>Comments</h3> - -<p>You hear some quaint remarks -under heavy artillery fire. One day -everything was quiet for a bit except -for their shells, and one fellow shouted, -“Fall in here for your pay, ‘A’ -Company,” which caused men and -officers to laugh aloud. When once -we get under fire we take very little -notice of it, for it seems to come -natural to us. All we look for is -something to shoot at, taking no -notice of what our comrades are doing -on either side. When ammunition -is gone we shout, “Some more -souvenirs for the Huns”: <i>Pte. Homewood, -Duke of Cornwall’s Light -Infantry</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Mein Gott!”</h3> - -<p>A funny thing happened about a -week ago. The scout officer of our -regiment went out reconnoitring one -night and rather lost his bearings. As -he thought he was on his way back -he bumped up against a trench which -he took for his own, and started to -walk along it till he came to someone, -obviously an officer, walking -up and down. “Hullo! Good -evening,” he said; when the other -officer, jumping back, said, “Mein -Gott, the English!” and before he -had got over his surprise the scout -officer jumped out of the trench and -got away without being hit: <i>A -British Scout</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Tickets, Please!”</h3> - -<p>There’s a corporal of a regiment -that I won’t name who was a ticket-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span>collector -on the railway before the -war, and when he was called back -to the colours he wasn’t able to -forget his old trade. One day he -was in charge of a patrol that surprised -a party of Germans in a -wood, and, instead of a usual call -to surrender, he sang out, “Tickets, -please!” The Germans seemed to -understand what he was driving at, -for they surrendered at once, but -that chap will never hear the end -of the story, for when everything -else ceases to amuse in the trenches, -you have only to shout out, “Tickets, -please!” to set everybody in fits: <i>A -Gunner of the Royal Artillery</i>.</p> - -<h3>No Uhlans Need Apply!</h3> - -<p>We were about as hungry as men -could be when we came on a party -of Uhlans just about to sit down -to a nice dinner which had been -prepared for them at a big house. -They looked as if they had had too -much of a good time lately and -wanted thinning down; so we -took them prisoners, and let them -watch us enjoying their dinner. -They didn’t like it at all, and one -of them muttered something about -an English pig. The baby of the -troop asked him to come outside to -settle it with fists, but he wasn’t -having it. After the best dinner -I’ve had in my life we went round -to where the Uhlans had commandeered -the supplies and offered -to pay, but the people were so -pleased that we had got the food -instead of the Germans that they -wouldn’t hear of payment: <i>Trooper -Dale, Royal Dragoons</i>.</p> - -<h3>Cooking Their Dinner</h3> - -<p>Have you ever tried cooking -a dinner under shell fire? It’s about -as exciting as anything you could -have in this world. Yesterday we -were in the firing line, and as there -were no prospects of relief, we had to -make a spit and roast some fowls we -had been given by the villagers. Just -when they were doing nicely, and we -were going around to turn them, -the Germans found the range, and -shells began to drop all around. -We had to lie low, and when there -was a lull one of us would rush out -and turn the nearest bird, and then -run back again under cover. We -got them cooked all right, but two -of our chaps were killed outright -and four injured. That’s a big bill -to pay for a dinner; but soldiers -are like beggars, they can’t be -choosers. Out here is no place for -the faint-hearts, and we want only -real men, who are afraid of nothing: -<i>Pte. T. Bayley, 5th Irish Lancers</i>.</p> - -<h3>Business as Usual</h3> - -<p>Our men had just had their -papers from home, and have noted, -among other things, that “Business -as Usual” is the motto of patriotic -shopkeepers. In hard fighting the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> -Wiltshires, holding an exposed -position, ran out of ammunition, -and had to suspend firing until a -party brought fresh supplies across -the open under a heavy fire. Then -the wag of the regiment, a Cockney, -produced a biscuit tin with “Business -as Usual” crudely printed on it, -and set it up before the trenches as a -hint to the Germans that the fight -could now be resumed on more -equal terms. Finally the tin had -to be taken in because it was proving -such a good target for the German -riflemen, but the joker was struck -twice in rescuing it: <i>A Private of -the Wiltshire Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>For Neuralgia!</h3> - -<p>We’re just keeping at it in the -same old slogging style that always -brings us out on top. There’s one -chap in our company has got a ripping -cure for neuralgia, but he isn’t -going to take out a patent, because -it’s too risky, and might kill the -patient. Good luck’s one of the ingredients, -and you can’t always be -sure of that. He was lying in the -trenches the other day nearly mad -with pain in his face, when a German -shell burst close by. He wasn’t hit, -but the explosion knocked him senseless -for a bit. “Me neuralgia’s gone,” -says he, when he came round. “And -so’s six of your mates,” says we. “Oh, -crikey!” says he. His name’s Palmer, -and that’s why we call the German -shells now “Palmer’s Neuralgia -Cure”: <i>Pte. H. Thomson, 1st Gordon -Highlanders</i>.</p> - -<h3>“The Wearin’ o’ the Green!”</h3> - -<p>The German officer rushed off to -Tim Flanagan, the biggest caution -in the whole regiment, and called on -him to surrender the file of men -under his orders. “Is it me your -honour’s after talking to in that -way?” says Tim in that bold way -of his. “Sure, now, it’s yourself -that ought to be surrendering, -and if you’re not off this very minute, -you ill-mannered German omadhaun, -it’s me will be after giving you as -much cold steel as’ll do you between -this and the kingdom of heaven.” -Then the German officer gave the -word to his men, and what happened -after that I can’t tell to you, for it -was just then I got a bullet between -my ribs; but I can tell you that -neither Tim nor any of his men surrendered: -<i>A Private of the Connaught -Rangers</i>.</p> - -<h3>Not a Yarn</h3> - -<p>A barber would do a roaring trade -if he came here, no one having shaved -for weeks. Consequently, beards vary -according to the age of the individual -and the length of time he has not -shaved. Mine, for instance, is something -to gaze on and remember. -They are not by any means what a -writer in a lady’s novelette would -describe as “a perfect dream.” They<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span> -are scattered over my chivvy-chase in -anything but order, nineteen on one -side, fifteen on the other, and thirty-five -on the chin, intermixed with a -small smattering of down and dirt. -Dirt, did I say? That doesn’t describe -it. Water is at a discount, -except for drinking: soap something -to read about, and you wonder when -you last used it, and when you will -use it again. I can safely say, -“Three weeks ago I used your soap; -since then I have used no other.” -And that’s not spinning you a yarn: -<i>Sergt. Diggins, Leicestershire Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Hallo, Old Tin Hat!”</h3> - -<p>About four thousand Germans, -backed up by heavy artillery play, -tried to cross the river. There were -only 300 Connaught Rangers all told -who could be spared to keep them -from fixing pontoons. Down to the -river-bank they came, firing for all -they were worth. The Irishmen were -entrenched, and shouted across the -river such greeting as “Hallo, old -tin hat! When are you coming -over?” and as soon as the Irishmen -caught sight of the great boots of -the Germans, Hibernian humour was -irrepressible. The Rangers shouted, -“We see you; it’s no good hiding -there. We can see your ears sticking -out!” Then the Rangers settled -down to enjoy themselves, but a -little later some more German infantry, -which had crossed the river -to another point, attempted to outflank -them. It was terribly hard -work, but the way the Irish stuck it -would have taken your breath away: -<i>A Nottingham Artilleryman</i>.</p> - -<h3>Orange and Green</h3> - -<p>Mick Clancy is that droll with his -larking and bamboozling the Germans -that he makes us nearly split -our sides laughing at him and his -ways. Yesterday he got a stick and -put a cap on it so that it peeped -above the trenches just like a man, -and then the Germans kept shooting -away at it until they must have used -up tons of ammunition, and there -was us all the time laughing at them. -Tommy McQuiston, the big sergeant -from the Black North, does -nothing else morning, noon, and -night but talk about Ned Carson and -what he and his volunteers will do -when they come out to fight the -Germans. He has to put up with a -lot of banter and back chat from us -on the quiet in the sergeants’ mess, -but, sure, though he’s mad Orange, -he knows as well as anyone that we -think no less of him for that. To -get his dander up we tell him he’s -going to be the door porter in the -Dublin Parliament when the war’s -over; but he never begrudges us our -bit of diversion and devilment, and -says more like he’ll end his days as a -warder in a convict prison in charge -of us: <i>Sergeant T. Cahill</i>.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="Chap_XVI" id="Chap_XVI">XVI. STORIES OF SACRIFICE</a></h2> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">What have I done for you,</div> -<div class="i2">England, my England?</div> -<div class="i0">What is there I would not do,</div> -<div class="i2">England, my own?</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="author"><span class="smcap">W. E. Henley’s</span> “For England’s Sake.” -</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">Soldier, soldier, if by shot and shell</div> -<div class="i0">They wound him, my dear lad, my sweetheart O,</div> -<div class="i0">He’ll lie bleeding in the rain</div> -<div class="i0">And call me, all in vain,</div> -<div class="i0">Crying for the fingers of his sweetheart O.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Maurice Hewlett’s</span> “Soldier, Soldier.” -</p> - -<p>Give them a cigarette and let -them grip the operating-table, and -they will stick anything until -they practically collapse: <i>Corpl. -H. Stewart, Royal Army Medical -Corps</i>.</p> - -<h3>Poor Minnie!</h3> - -<p>They have shot my greatest friend -from under me—my horse Minnie, -the most faithful animal in the -world. God forgive them for that; -I never will: <i>Pte. Knowles, 6th -Dragoons</i>.</p> - -<h3>His Last Wish</h3> - -<p>I came across a young chap sitting -with his back against a tree—dead, -and around him, in a circle, he placed -all his letters and photographs, as -much as to say: “Please post these -to the people concerned, as I am -dying”: <i>A Private of the Northumberland -Fusiliers</i>.</p> - -<h3>The Christian Way</h3> - -<p>One of our men holding his water-bottle -to a wounded German was -shot dead close to Mons on Sunday. -Another stopped under fire to light -a cigarette, when a bullet struck him -on the fingers, and one hand will -have to come off: <i>Private S. Burns</i>.</p> - -<h3>Asked for the Colours</h3> - -<p>In the middle of the battle a -driver got wounded and asked to see<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span> -the colours before he died, and he -was told by an officer that the guns -were his colours. He replied, “Tell -the drivers to keep their eyes on -their guns, because if we lose our -guns we lose our colours”: <i>Driver -W. Moore, Royal Field Artillery</i>.</p> - -<h3>Not a Murmur</h3> - -<p>The grandest thing to buck a man -up is the way our men take their -wounds. You do not hear them -yelling when they are hit. You -hear the words, “I’ve got it, boys. -Hard luck!” It is grand to see the -way they take it, a smile on their -face, and not a murmur as they are -carried down on the stretchers: <i>Pte. -A. Robson, 7th Batt. Royal Fusiliers</i>.</p> - -<h3>Saving a Tragedy</h3> - -<p>I was fetching our bottles of -water. I crept to one house. The -woman tried to tell me something -in French. I could not understand, -so she pulled me in the next room. -There was a woman just confined. -She was on the point of madness. -I could not do anything, so I told -my officer. He sent me for the -parson, and got some of us together, -and we carried her, bed and all, to -a safe place: <i>Pte. E. Smith, 2nd -Worcestershire Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>Going Home!</h3> - -<p>It was wonderful how cheerful the -wounded were. One poor fellow who -had been shot in the head, and hit -by a shrapnel bullet in the mouth—he -was apparently dying—pointed -out to me another man, badly -wounded, remarking, “That poor -bloke is going home; he will be gone -before me”: <i>Pte. W. Webb, Royal -Army Medical Corps</i>.</p> - -<h3>Like Jackie!</h3> - -<p>I was in a cottage in France, in -the country, Tuesday night, to cook -a bit of grub—we had had none all -day—and while I was doing it the -woman cried bitterly, as her husband -was at the front, but I tried to cheer -her up as best I could; she had a -boy like Jackie, so I told her I was -married and had a wife and child, -and she cried worse still then: -<i>Private Davies, of Ipswich</i>.</p> - -<h3>Lit His “Fag”</h3> - -<p>“Is there anything I can do for -you, old chap?” I asked a wounded -man of the Hampshires, one day. -“Yes,” he answered, “you might -light my fag for me. You will find -matches and all in my inside pocket.” -I did as he asked, and the last -glimpse I caught of him he was lying -out there with German shells and -bullets flying all around, calmly -smoking a “Gold Flake.” That -spirit is characteristic of our lads: -<i>A Private of the Grenadier Guards</i>.</p> - -<h3>Cheerful in Verse</h3> - -<p>I was through all the fighting, -commencing with the battle of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span> -Mons, until the 9th of last month, -when I got wounded. This little -verse will explain a lot:</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">I was wounded on the 9th,</div> -<div class="i2">Near the River Marne.</div> -<div class="i0">They got me in hospital on the 13th,</div> -<div class="i2">On the 18th they took off my arm:</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p><i>A Corporal of the Durham Light -Infantry</i>.</p> - -<h3>Succouring the Enemy</h3> - -<p>A lot of German wounded were -moved into a wood for protection -and shelter against the rain. Their -own artillery opened fire, and soon -all the trees were ablaze. The cries -of the wounded were agonizing. A -party of our men asked permission -from their officers to go and carry -the Germans out. They did it -under heavy fire all the time. The -wounded men were very grateful, -and said that had it not been for -our lads they would have been -burned alive: <i>A Private of the -Highland Light Infantry</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Splendid Corporal</h3> - -<p>Near Cambrai one dark night -the British took the offensive against -the Germans, who were holding a -bridge spanning the canal. When -our men reached an embankment -running sharply down to the river -several failed to secure a foothold -and fell into the water. Four of the -men, who were unable to swim, were -in imminent danger of drowning, -when Corporal Brindall, an excellent -swimmer, plunged into the river and -rescued all four in turn. He was -clambering up the embankment himself, -when a German shell exploded -near him, killing him instantly: -<i>Drummer H. Savage, 1st Batt. -Royal Berks</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Yorkshire “Tyke”</h3> - -<p>One night in the trenches a man -of the West Yorkshire Regiment -took off his coat and wrapped it -around a wounded chum who had -to lie there until the ambulance -took him away. All that night -the game “tyke” stood in the -trenches in his shirt-sleeves, with -water up to his waist, and the -temperature near to freezing-point, -quietly returning the German fire. -In the morning he would only own -to “a bit of a chill that a cup of -tea and a smoke would soon put -right,” but I wasn’t surprised to -learn that he had to be sent down -to the base with pneumonia that -afternoon. I hope he will pull -through: <i>A Sergeant of the Liverpool -Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>The Other Man!</h3> - -<p>After one of our hard fights in -the Aisne, there was occasion to let -the wounded lie out in the rain all -night. I came on one man of the -Royal Irish Fusiliers who was done<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> -for. He had a waterproof cloak -over him, but near by was a man of -the artillery without any covering at -all. I asked the Irishman if I could -do anything for him. “Nothing,” -he said; “but if you would take -this cloak and throw it over that -poor chap there I would be so -grateful. I will never pull through, -but he may if he is attended to at -once. Good-bye. See that the -vultures don’t get me when I’m -gone, will you?”: <i>A Private from -the Aisne</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Costly Apple</h3> - -<p>There was a “boy” of the Connaught -Rangers who made a rush -out of the trenches under heavy -fire to an orchard near by to get an -apple for a wounded comrade who -was suffering from thirst and hunger. -He got the apple all right, but he -got a German bullet or two in him -as well on the way back, and dropped -dead within fifty feet of the goal. -The wounded chap had his apple -brought in, after an artilleryman -had been wounded in getting at it, -and I hope he valued it, for it was -the costliest apple I ever heard tell -of bar one, and that was a long -time ago: <i>A Private of the Highland -Light Infantry</i>.</p> - -<h3>No Hesitation</h3> - -<p>Two of our R.A.M.C. men were -bringing in a badly wounded trooper -on a stretcher, when a fiendish fire -was opened on them by a party of -Germans posted on a hill about a -mile off. Both of the bearers were -hit, and though they strove manfully -to keep up they collapsed from -loss of blood, and the wounded man -toppled over with them. A score -of our men rushed out to their -assistance, but some of them were -shot down before they reached the -stretcher. Four reached the stretcher -and brought it in safely under a -hellish fire. All the rest of the -wounded were got in safely: <i>Private -H. Sykes</i>.</p> - -<h3>Glorious Examples</h3> - -<p>One fellow had been shot in the -forehead: he had been in the trenches, -full of water, for six days and seven -nights, and yet he said to me, “I don’t -care what becomes of me. I have the -satisfaction of knowing that I popped -four of the Germans off before I got -hit.” I made a few of them some -cigarettes, and gave them water to -drink, and did my best to make them -comfortable. You would be surprised -at the gratitude which they -expressed to me. These men are -glorious examples of self-sacrifice. -There is no distinction of persons -with the wounded out here: <i>Motor-driver -T. Robinson, of Brighton</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Kindly German</h3> - -<p>After Soissons, I was lying on -the field badly wounded. Near by<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> -was a young fellow of the Northamptonshire -Regiment. Standing over -him was a German infantryman -holding a water-bottle to his lips -and trying to soothe him. The -wounded man was delirious, and -kept calling, “Mother are you -there?” all the time. The German -seemed to understand, for he passed -his hand gently over the feverish -brow and caressed the poor lad as -tenderly as any woman might have -done. Death came at last, and as -the soul of the wounded man -passed to its last account I saw -the German trying to hide his -tears: <i>Corpl. Houston, Seaforth -Highlanders</i>.</p> - -<h3>Driven Out!</h3> - -<p>The burning of the poor -villagers’ houses was bad enough -to see, but the sight of the poor -women and children fleeing before -the Germans would break a man’s -heart. The poor people did not -know what to do or where to go. -Some of them came to us asking -questions, but we, of course, could -do nothing, for we did not understand -their language and did not -know what they were saying. They -were in a bad way, and the sight -of some of them and their misery -brought the tears to the eyes of -many of the men of my regiment: -<i>Pte. Rossiter, Royal Irish -Rifles</i>.</p> - -<h3>Cried Like Babies</h3> - -<p>The other day I stopped to assist -a young lad of the West Kents who -had been badly hit by a piece of -shell. He hadn’t long to live, and -he knew it, too. I asked him if -there was any message I could take -to someone at home. The poor -lad’s eyes filled with tears as he -answered, “I ran away from home -and ’listed a year ago. Mother and -dad don’t know I’m here, but you -tell them from me I’m not sorry I -did it.” When I told our boys -afterwards about that they cried -like babies, but, mind you, that is -the spirit that is going to pull -England through this war, and -there isn’t a man of us that doesn’t -think of that poor boy and his -example every time we go into a -fight: <i>Corporal Sam Haslett</i>.</p> - -<h3>The “Kiddies”</h3> - -<p>The worst part, to my mind, was -to see the plight of the poor women -and children. English people at -home cannot realize what these poor -creatures suffered. We used to meet -them on the road utterly worn out -with walking and carrying their -babies and the few small things that -they had. They wept with joy on -seeing us. It seemed grand to be -a soldier. No matter how tired we -were, it was almost a free fight as to -who carried the “kiddy” and the -bundle, and there was always a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> -tin or two of our “bully” to spare. -We made them spare it if there -wasn’t: <i>A Private of the Lancashire -Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>Finely Done</h3> - -<p>When we were waiting for the -order to go in I saw a cavalry sergeant -who had been badly wounded -three times and was still pegging -away at it. As he was fighting -I saw him go to a badly wounded -corporal who was shouting to be -taken out of the way of the line. -The wounded sergeant bound up -the other man’s wound, and then sat -him on his own horse and sent him -back out of the way. Then I saw -the sergeant limp along on foot as -best he could after his regiment to -fight again. I don’t know what -became of him, but I know I shall -never see a finer thing as long as I -live: <i>A Wounded Hussar</i>.</p> - -<h3>What McCabe Did</h3> - -<p>McCabe helped me to dress my -knee wound under a hail of shells and -bullets. I had been lying there for -half an hour when Mac came along. -“Hullo,” he said, “what’s up?” -“Rip up my trousers,” I cried, -“and help me to bind my knee.” -While we were getting on with the -job the shells started to pepper -about. I said, “Clear out, Mac, -you’ll get hit.” He said, “After -I’ve finished with you.” He then -went after the ambulance men, but -it was like looking for a bushel of -gold. He did not return. I then -made up my mind to crawl to safety, -so I discarded my rifle and equipment, -and with another fellow -crawled about 600 yards back -through a swede field: <i>Corporal -Erler</i>.</p> - -<h3>Taking the Salute</h3> - -<p>A troop train with a thousand Belgian -soldiers came in. They looked -terribly dirty, but awfully earnest. -They seemed delighted to meet -an Englishman, and always wanted -to shake hands. I reckon I shook -hands with a couple of hundred of -them. When they saw an English -officer they jumped to the salute. -As they passed a major of one of the -Scottish regiments who was lying on -a stretcher, having been shot in the -chest twice, and also other parts, they -saluted him, too. The major, although -he was very weak, cried to his -orderly, “Hold me up. I can’t take -a salute lying down.” His orderly -told him he was too ill to move, but -he persisted, and he was propped up, -and acknowledged the salutes, with -hardly sufficient strength to hold his -hand to his forehead. It was a -pathetic sight: <i>Anonymous</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Brave Sergeant</h3> - -<p>We were in a very hot attack in -defending a bridge. The Germans<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> -poured a very destructive fire into us; -we were forced to give way, and had -to retire across the bridge. There -was practically no shelter, and during -our retirement one of our officers -was severely wounded. He would undoubtedly -have fallen into the hands -of the enemy but for the extreme -bravery of Sergeant Cropp, who, perceiving -the situation, gallantly ventured -on to the bridge and, seizing -the wounded lieutenant, placed him -on his back. Instead of risking a -journey across the shot-swept bridge, -he decided, encumbered as he was, to -swim the canal, which he did, and -swam with the wounded officer out -of the line of fire and into a place of -safety: <i>A Scots Fusilier</i>.</p> - -<h3>Officer and Gentleman</h3> - -<p>About three in the afternoon, -just as our artillery had got up -ready to cover us, the Germans -found our range with artillery, and -down came the “coal-boxes.” Near -me was lying our brave captain -mortally wounded, and as the shells -burst he would occasionally open -his eyes and call out—but ’twas -very weak—“Stick it, Welsh, stick -it.” Many of the wounded managed -to crawl up and down the firing -line “dishing out” ammunition we -were unable to use, so our brave lads -stuck at it until our artillery got -into action and put “paid” to the -enemy’s account. We had won! -The “contemptible little army,” -are we? We made them eat their -words. Out in that field were -strewn thousands of German dead -and wounded. They even piled -them up and made barricades of -their dead. Toward dusk, though -we were still exposed to terrible -shell fire, several of our lads volunteered -to collect the wounded. -Many got hit in doing so. Captain -Haggard died that evening, his last -words being, “Stick it, Welsh!” -He died as he had lived—an officer -and a gentleman: <i>Pte. C. Derry, -Welsh Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>The Spirit of Old</h3> - -<p>There is absolutely no doubt that -our men are still animated by the -spirit of old. I came on a couple of -men of the Argyll and Sutherland -Highlanders who had been cut off at -Mons. One was badly wounded, -but his companion had stuck by him -all the time in a country swarming -with Germans, and though they had -only a few biscuits between them they -managed to pull through until we -picked them up. I pressed the unwounded -man to tell me how they -managed to get through the four days -on six biscuits, but he always got -angry and told me to shut up. I -fancy he went without anything, and -gave the biscuits to the wounded -man. They were offered shelter -many times by the French peasants,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> -but they were so afraid of bringing -trouble on these kind folk that they -would never accept shelter. One -night they lay out in the open all -through a heavy downpour, though -there was a house at hand where -they could have had shelter. Uhlans -were on the prowl, and they would -not think of compromising the -French people, who would have been -glad to help them: <i>Lance-Corpl. -Edmondson, Royal Irish Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Hallelujah!”</h3> - -<p>We had been lying in the -trenches firing for all we were -worth. On my right, shoulder to -shoulder, were two Salvationists. I -remembered them as having held -a meeting with some of us chaps -about a week before. As we lay -there with the bullets whistling -round us these two were the coolest -of the whole cool lot! After we -had been fighting some time we -had orders to fall back, and as we -were getting away from the trenches -one of the Salvationists was hit and -fell. His chum didn’t miss him -until we had gone several hundred -yards, and then he says, “Where’s -----?” calling him by name. “I -must go back and fetch him!” and -off he hurried, braving the hail of -shot and shell. I admired his -bravery so much that I offered to -go with him, but he said, “No, the -Lord will protect me; I’ll manage -it.” So I threw myself on the -ground and waited. I saw him -creep along for some yards, then -run to cover; creep along, and take -shelter again; and, finally, having -found his chum, he picked him up -and made a dash for safety! How -the bullets fell around him! Into -the shelter of some trees he went; -out again, and in once more; and -when he did get into the last -piece of clearing I couldn’t wait -any longer, so I rushed forward to -help him. Then I got hit. What -do you think the brave fellow did? -He just put his other arm around me -and carried us both off. Darkness -was fast coming on, and presently -he laid us both down and found -the wounds, which he bandaged up -with strips which he tore from his -shirt. I shall never forget that -terrible night: <i>An Anonymous Private</i>.</p> - -<h3>“A Rare Good One”</h3> - -<p>Near our trenches there were a -lot of wounded, and their cries for -water were pitiful. In the trenches -was a quiet chap of the Engineers, -who could stand it no longer. He -collected all the water-bottles he -could lay hold of, and said he was -going out. The air was thick with -shell and rifle fire, and to show yourself -at all was to sign your death-warrant. -That chap knew it as -well as we did, but that was not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> -going to stop him. He got to the -first man all right, and gave him a -swig from a bottle. No sooner did -he show himself than the Germans -opened fire. After attending to -the first man he crawled along the -ground to others until he was about -a quarter of a mile away from us. -Then he stood up and zigzagged -towards another batch of wounded, -but that was the end of him. The -German fire got hotter and hotter. -He was hit badly, and with just a -slight upward fling of his arms he -dropped to earth like the hero he -was. Later he was picked up with -the wounded, but he was as dead as -they make them out there. The -wounded men, for whose sake he -had risked and lost his life, thought -a lot of him, and were greatly cut -up at his death. One of them, who -was hit so hard that he would never -see another Sunday, said to me as -we passed the Engineer chap, who -lay with a smile on his white face, -and had more bullets in him than -would set a battalion of sharpshooters -up in business for themselves, -“He was a rare good one, -he was. It’s something worth living -for to have seen a deed like that, -and now that I have seen it I don’t -care what becomes of me.” That’s -what we all felt about it: <i>A Corporal -of the Bedfordshire Regiment</i>.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="Chap_XVII" id="Chap_XVII">XVII. THE MAN AMID WAR</a></h2> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">War, that mad game the world so loves to play.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Swift’s</span> “Ode to Sir William Temple.” -</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">The combat deepens. On, ye brave,</div> -<div class="i0">Who rush to glory or the grave.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Campbell’s</span> “Hohenlinden.” -</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">But there is neither East nor West, border, nor breed nor birth,</div> -<div class="i0">When two strong men stand face to face, tho’ they come from the ends of the earth!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Kipling’s</span> “Ballad of East and West.” -</p> - -<p>Everybody is brave out here, but -we all pass the biscuit on to the -flying-men. If ever men won a V.C. -they have: <i>An Infantry Private</i>.</p> - -<h3>“All’s Well”</h3> - -<p>It’s all “Vive l’Anglais” where -we go. The villagers look on us -as their saviours. We all feel very -cheerful and all have the one idea -that we must win, so as long as we -are not downhearted. “All’s well” -will be the cry: <i>An Unnamed Private</i>.</p> - -<h3>The Beginning</h3> - -<p>You have a sort of want-to-go-home-to-your-mother -feeling at the -start, but that soon goes when you -get into your stride. When your -pal gets wiped out at your side you -feel anxious to get your own back: -<i>Private W. A. Cast</i>.</p> - -<h3>Holed!</h3> - -<p>My hat has six holes punctured -by shrapnel. One shot carried half -of the badge away, another caught -the wire rim and doubled it up like -a hat-pin to five inches. I have -had up to a sovereign offered for it, -but I am sticking to it, you bet: -<i>Pte. Cawley, 3rd Coldstream Guards</i>.</p> - -<h3>Jammy!</h3> - -<p>Now about this jam. If you get -a big pot you’ll carry it along, and -like as not get it smashed. Then -your whole kit’s muckered up. -Likewise if you get it in a tin -you’ll open it and take what you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span> -want, but you’ll have no lid to put -on, so you’ll leave the rest behind: -<i>Pte. Moss, of the Hussars</i>.</p> - -<h3>Next for Shaving</h3> - -<p>One daring thing I saw on the -Aisne was done by a man of the -Buffs. He was surprised by the -Germans, and the only weapon he -had to meet the attack of one who -came at him with a rifle was a half-brick. -He let fly with it, and -caught the “sausage” on the head, -bowling him clean over. Then he -picked up his rifle and coolly took -his position, calling out, “Next for -shaving”: <i>Pte. G. Barton, Royal -Engineers</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Strange Meeting</h3> - -<p>A few years ago I was a delegate -for the I.L.P. at the International -Socialist Congress at Stuttgart, and -stayed at the house of a German, -Hans Woesschhoeft by name. After -the battle of the Marne I was with -a force pursuing the Germans, and -one day engaged in bayonet fighting -a German cavalryman. Looking at -him closer, I recognized my host of -happier days. He recognized me, -and we had not the heart to fight -further. He saved the situation -by surrendering: <i>Corpl. Hayhurst, -Shropshire Light Infantry</i>.</p> - -<h3>“All We Want”</h3> - -<p>We are still getting on in the -pink of health, and have all we -want. My chum, ——, wishes to -be remembered to you; he says he -doesn’t want to come back again to -England. We are amongst some -of the finest people I have ever -met, and they will give us anything -we want. We can get plenty of -tobacco here, so will you please -send me a pipe? I shall get it -some time. Well, dear, I can’t say -more now, so will wish you good-bye -for the present. Tell the -missis I wish to be remembered -to her. I will close with heaps -of love: <i>A Sergeant of the 3rd -Hussars</i>.</p> - -<h3>Dare-Devils</h3> - -<p>The army is full of dare-devils -who are never happy unless they -are risking their lives in some extravagant -way. Two men of the -Leinster Regiment had an argument -about each other’s running powers. -To settle the dispute they had a -hundred yards sprint outside the -trenches under German fire all the -time. Both had some narrow -escapes, but got through without a -scratch. They wanted to do it over -again, but an officer stopped them: -<i>Pte. R. Collier, Sherwood Foresters</i>.</p> - -<h3>An Evil Eye!</h3> - -<p>You can see that the German -hates you by the evil look in his -eye. It isn’t safe to go near him -unless you have a bayonet in your<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> -hand. I was trying to do something -for one wounded German, and -the next thing I saw was his mate -from behind him coming for me -with a bayonet. He was wounded, -too, but he thought he was going -to get a stick at me. But I stuck -first, and he did not want more -than one, I can tell you. You have -got some funny jobs to do in fighting: -<i>A Private of the Coldstream -Guards</i>.</p> - -<h3>Signed the Pledge!</h3> - -<p>Wine is offered us instead of -water by the French people, but we -are refusing it. Some of the hardest -drinkers in the regiment have signed -the pledge for the war. Some of the -French tell of miraculous escapes. -One man was holding a glass of -water to a wounded comrade when -a bullet shattered the glass. In -another case a man came out of -action with two bullets in his -pocket. One had travelled through -a neighbour’s body before being -spent, and the other had struck a -cigarette-case and had been deflected: -<i>A Private of Withington</i>.</p> - -<h3>The Balm of Baccy</h3> - -<p>We are issued tobacco, but those -who haven’t pipes find it difficult to -get a smoke, as cigarette-papers are -very scarce. As much as five francs -has been offered for a 1d. packet. -Thank goodness I have a pipe. It -is really marvellous the amount of -comfort and enjoyment one derives -from a smoke. During the cold -nights, when unable to sleep through -being on some duty, sitting round -the old camp fire thinking, the old -pipe of ’bacca has a very soothing -effect. There is something missing -when one is without it: <i>Sergt. -Ibbitson, Cyclist Company</i>.</p> - -<h3>His Spare Time</h3> - -<p>In the haste of the retreat the -Germans abandoned and we picked -up bicycles, gramophones, concertinas, -accordions, civilian clothes, -and provisions of all kinds, and -what not. There were a lot of -dead Germans behind them. One -officer was sitting quite natural, -with his head resting on his hands. -Another chap had apparently been -a bit of a carver, for he had just -finished carving a doll’s house, with -furniture complete. He had evidently -been doing it in his spare -time under fire: <i>Pte. Trobe, Royal -Artillery</i>.</p> - -<h3>Wet, But Exciting</h3> - -<p>I have a month’s growth of -whiskers, and I look horrid. We -are all the same. I have not had -a chance of a wash for a week. -The last wash I had was after -twenty-four chaps had washed in -one bucket. At the time of writing<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> -I am soaking wet, and am waiting -for the sun to dry me. We are -all ready for anything. We have -lost thirty of our men. Thank -God, I am spared, but I am ready -to die for the old country. I have -been soaking wet for a week, but -we are on the move—too exciting -to notice anything: <i>Pte. T. Percy, -Army Veterinary Corps</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Nearer, my God, to Thee”</h3> - -<p>It was raining like blazes and a -cold, wretched night. We all knew -we were going into action in the -morning, and we stood together while -shelter was found for us. Suddenly -somebody started to sing “Nearer, -my God, to Thee,” and the whole -battalion took it up, and we sang -it right through. Next we had the -“Glory Song,” and it was impressive. -We went into action the next -day, and on the following night -twenty-five or thirty of our men -who had sung those hymns were -buried, and an officer who read the -service was in tears: <i>Pte. Baker, -Coldstream Guards</i>.</p> - -<h3>Happy all the Day</h3> - -<p>It’s a fine sight to see us on the -march, swinging along the roads as -happy as schoolboys and singing all -the old songs we can think of. The -tunes are sometimes a bit out, but -nobody minds so long as we’re happy. -As we pass through the villages the -French come out to cheer us and -bring us food and fruit. Cigarettes -we get more of than we know what -to do with. Some of them are -rotten, so we save them for the -German prisoners, who would smoke -anything they can lay hands on. -Flowers also we get plenty of, and -we are having the time of our lives: -<i>Corporal J. Bailey</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Supreme Beings”</h3> - -<p>The roads are simply cruel. But -the worst is we cannot get a decent -smoke. I am in the best of health, -what with the feeding and the open-air -life, the stars being our covering -for the last few weeks. We have -seen some of the most lovely -country imaginable. Some of the -hills were four miles long, with -about eight S-bends in them. The -people over here go half mad when -we go through the villages and -towns. They throw fruit and flowers -at us, give us wine, and goodness -knows what. If we happen to stop -they run out to shake hands and -hang round us as if we were supreme -beings: <i>Driver L. Finch</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Who Goes There?”</h3> - -<p>I was posted on guard, and after -about an hour I began to feel sleepy, -so I went to stand beside a wagon, -when suddenly I heard a noise. -Then I shouted, “Halt! who goes -there?” But there was no reply.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> -Again I shouted. Still there was -no response. Then I saw a figure -move about five yards away from -me, but as it was so very dark I -could not tell whether it was one of -our own men or not, so I shouted -for the last time, and as there was -no reply I fired. The guard turned -out and ran to the place, bringing -back the victim, shot through the -shoulder. He was a German spy: -<i>Driver Renniberg, Army Service -Corps</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Mum’s the Word”</h3> - -<p>Wish I could describe all I have -seen to you; but have not the time, -for one thing, and not allowed to -give anything of importance in our -letters, of course. The French are -fine, generous people. Have seen -and conversed as well as possible -with their wounded, as we have -passed some quantity on our way in -trains, and German prisoners with -them. From what I have seen of -them so far, especially those returning -from the front, they are fine -fellows. Taking them all round, -I believe they are bigger than our -fellows. The Germans appear -similar to ours, although I could -only see them by lantern light for -a few seconds as they were lying -down in railway goods wagons—they -may have been wounded. The -French appear to be treating them -well. This is a beautiful country—rather -flat what I have seen, but -well-cultivated soil similar to round -Cambridge: <i>Private H. J. Charity</i>.</p> - -<h3>The Impossible Order</h3> - -<p>We enjoy the hard life all right -because it’s full up with excitement, -and we are doing our little bit -towards squaring off that big account -with the Germans. They’re not -doing the fine things they promised -to do, and it must make them sick -to think of their failure to wipe out -our army, for you can take it from -me that they had their orders direct -from the Kaiser that the British -force was to be punished at any -cost for daring to come over here -without his orders. There’s been -punishment enough, God knows, -but it hasn’t all been on the one -side. There’s many a German could -tell of being punished for all he was -worth, and they won’t be in a hurry -to deal out punishment to us again: -<i>Private E. Wood</i>.</p> - -<h3>The Valiant Spirit</h3> - -<p>After marching and fighting -nearly every day we are all feeling -like veterans now, and we are ready -to keep the ball rolling for just as -long as it takes to give the Kaiser’s -lads a lesson in soldiering that is -likely to be remembered in their -precious Fatherland so long as there -are Germans alive. We are not -kidding ourselves about what we<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> -have before us, but we are bracing -ourselves for it, and we will certainly -put our best foot forward and get -our backs into the work as you -would expect British soldiers to do. -This is going to be the biggest -thing we’ve ever taken on, and -there’ll be many an English home -in mourning before it’s through; -but you simply must make up your -minds to face it as bravely as we -are facing it, because that’s the only -way to win, and we’re out to win at -any price. We can’t and we won’t -allow the Germans to get the best -of us in this fight, and they will -have to trample on our dead bodies -first before they get a chance of -trampling on our flag, as they say -they will. The dead won’t all be -Britons, and we have no doubt -about who’s going to win, if it -takes us a century to do it: <i>Private -S. Hobson</i>.</p> - -<h3>Spared!</h3> - -<p>In the hospital there were twenty -wounded, including three Germans, -in charge of an English doctor. -After our troops had retired to -their base, some distance in the -rear, the hospital was raided by a -party of fifty Germans. They were -all more or less under the influence -of drink, and they demanded that -we should tell them where our -regiment was. Not one of us would -give the game away, and they -thereupon said they would shoot -us all. They commenced flourishing -their revolvers and shouting, -and I can tell you that I began to -shake. I was really afraid then, -and I thought our numbers were -up. But the unexpected happened. -The three wounded Germans implored -their comrades to spare us, -pointing out that they had been -most kindly treated by the English -doctor: <i>A Private of the Hussars</i>.</p> - -<h3>Jolly Boys are We!</h3> - -<p>I am sitting on the grass in a -huge encampment of some thousands -of men who, despite all kinds of -adverse circumstances, are still as -jolly as the proverbial skylark. It -is quite remarkable to see the -philosophical way in which Tommy -takes everything. Here is a little -example which may, perhaps, be -amusing to some of the Merrie -Villagers next Sunday. A huge -field, inches thick in mud, nice clay -soil, which hangs on to you like -grim death; wet shirts, due to a -steady downpour all night; no tea -for breakfast, owing to the rain -having put all fires out; and the -troops sitting as best they can on -their waterproof sheets on wet earth, -doing what? Why, singing, at the -top of their voices, “It’s a long, -long way to Tipperary!”: <i>Bombdr. -Barron, of Finsbury Park</i>.</p> - -<h3>The “Born Grousers”</h3> - -<p>Just now we suffer more from<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span> -the plague of spies than we did -from flies in South Africa. “Kill -that spy” is a cry as necessary as -“Kill that fly” at home. Scarcely -a day passes without the arrest of -Germans or Austrians engaged in -their low trade. They get short -shrift. A chap can’t be sorry for -them; they are such dirty dogs. -They are going about circulating -lies of all kinds. One of their -yarns is to tell of whole regiments -wiped out. Sometimes it is a -French regiment and sometimes a -British one. One of the kidney -tried it on in a café here to-night. -He made free with the name of a -regiment actually quartered here. -When we had done with him he -had practical proof that this scurvy -German method of killing off your -enemies is only satisfactory so long -as you can avoid a meeting with -the “killed and wounded.” We -are all comfortable here, and there -is no shortage of any kind, so if -you hear from the born “grousers” -of hardships don’t believe them: -<i>Corporal G. Robbins</i>.</p> - -<h3>Well Tended</h3> - -<p>I was about the last man that -got hit, and I got a proper one too. -An explosive bullet got me behind -the knee, and blew away my knee -and part of thigh and shin. I lay -there for a time in the forest with -no one but the Germans, who were -not at all unkind to me; they gave -me water and wine to drink, and two -of their Red Cross bandaged my leg -up temporarily until the ambulance -came along about ten hours later. -Well, dad, if I ever prayed I prayed -during that time; I was in sheer -agony the whole time. Eventually -the ambulance came along and -brought me back (a prisoner, of -course) to a Roman Catholic chapel, -which was converted into a temporary -hospital, and I lay there till I -was brought out to a château, where -two German doctors amputated my -leg. They did their best for me, -but in a rough way. I was there -for about ten days with hardly any -food, as they hadn’t it for themselves, -only dry bread and black coffee. -Our own people released us, and -took all the Germans who were -there prisoners: <i>Sergt. O’Dwyer, -Irish Guards</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Archibald” a Drawback</h3> - -<p>The Germans have a topsides -gun we call “Archibald.” He shoots -extraordinarily well on some days -and damn badly on others. They -always get our height correct, but -so far have brought nobody down. -Several machines have been hit by -his shrapnel bullets and bits of his -shell. He also flies a sort of parachute -which he uses to range on. -The other day we pulled his leg -properly by getting between him<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span> -and a bright sun so that he could -not see us properly. He sent up -his parachute, height exactly correct, -fuse well timed, and proceeded to -pepper it no end, all about half a -mile away from us. Once I heard -his beastly shells whistling above -the noise of the engine when we -came out of the clouds, so he must -have been jolly near. He has a -twin brother named “Cuthbert,” -who is a large howitzer. His first -shot is good, but the remainder -always miles behind. “Archibald” -certainly is a drawback, as one has -to be rather careful to circumvent -him, as the blighter’s shooting has -improved wonderfully: <i>An Army -Airman</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Here Comes the Last”</h3> - -<p>It is amusing to hear some soldiers -speak when they come down -the line, and it is becoming quite a -joke to say, “Here comes the last -of such-and-such a regiment,” for -invariably they claim to be the last—all -the others are cut up. It is -no doubt the case that some battalions -have been severely handled. -I met one of the Dorsets—but here -hangs a tale. You will know the -old bookshop in Churchwallgate. -On the day I left Macclesfield I -called in to wish the bookseller -good-bye. It was mentioned incidentally -that he had a relative -who had been called up; I had met -him on one occasion, and would I -be likely to see him again? Of -course this was highly improbable, -but I did meet him. After we had -retired from —— I jumped up on -a truck-load of biscuits along with -others, and said not a word, being -too busy admiring the magnificent -beauty of the country in this district. -At last we talked of things -in general, of the inferior rifle-shooting -of the Germans, but with respect -of his shrapnel, and I mentioned -Macclesfield, hoping to be back at -Christmas. A man of the Dorsets -cocked his ears. “Macclesfield! -Put it there, Corporal,” he said, -holding out his hand. “Put it -there. I have been weighing you -up for the last ten minutes, wondering -where I had seen you before. -Now I know.” This was the man -whom I never expected to see, and -we met under difficult conditions -on a truck racing hell for leather -through a country which a few -days later was the grave of many -a German soldier: <i>Pte. Dickenson, -Army Service Corps</i>.</p> - -<h3>Saved by a Curé</h3> - -<p>A smart young corporal accompanied -me to reconnoitre, and we -went too far ahead, and were cut -off in a part of the country thick -with Uhlans. As we rode in the -direction of —— two wounded -men were limping along, both with -legs damaged, one from the Middle<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span>sex -and the other Lancashire -Fusiliers, and so we took them up. -The men were hungry and tattered -to shreds with fighting, but in fine -spirits. We soon came across a -small village, and I found the curé -a grand sportsman and full of pluck -and hospitality. He seemed charmed -to find a friend who was English, -and told me that the Germans were -dressed in the uniforms of British -soldiers, which they took from the -dead and from prisoners in order -to deceive French villagers, who in -many places in that district had -welcomed these wolves in sheep’s -clothing. We were warned that -the enemy would be sure to track -us up to the village. The curé said -he could hide the two wounded men -in the crypt of his church, and put -up beds for them. It has a secret -trapdoor, and was an ancient treasure-house -of a feudal lord, whose -castle we saw in ruins at the top -of the hill close by. Then he hid -away our saddlery and uniforms in -the roof of a barn, and insisted -upon our making a rest-chamber of -the tower of his church, which was -approached by a ladder, which we -were to pull up to the belfry as -soon as we got there. He smuggled -in wine and meat and bread and -cakes, fruit and cigarettes, with -plenty of bedding pulled up by a -rope. We slept soundly, and the -owls seemed the only other tenants, -who resented our intrusion. No -troops passed through the village -that night. In the morning the -curé came round at six o’clock, and -we heard him say Mass. After that -we let down the ladder, and he -came up with delicious hot chocolate -and a basket of rolls and -butter. Our horses he had placed -in different stables a mile apart, -and put French “fittings” on them, -so as to deceive the enemy: <i>A -Non-Commissioned Officer in the -Dragoons</i>.</p> - -<h3>After the Battle</h3> - -<p>We, whose work commences only -after the battle, have learned to -know things that baffle description. -Waiting all day long in more or less -sheltered positions is sad enough: -with the noise of rifle fire and the -roaring of the guns we cannot but -constantly think of the poor fellows -who are being hit. The din of the -battle grows less, the night draws -on, the moment has now come for -us to do our task. With acetylene -lamps to light us, we cross the -battlefield in all directions and pick -up the wounded. As to the dead, -alas! how numerous they are! -We find them petrified in their -last attitude in their last <i>élan</i>. -And the crying and moaning of -the wounded scattered in the -cornfields and among the damp -meadows! I know of nothing -more poignant than that. The<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> -bullets nearly always go right -through; wounds in the chest or in -the abdomen are almost certainly -mortal. Fortunately, such wounds -are comparatively few in number. -German shells are more noisy than -efficient, and their splinters generally -only cause small wounds. I must -add that the bullets of our rifles are -as deadly as those of the Germans, -while our shells are far more dangerous -than theirs. The poor devils -who are hit by them are to be -pitied. A good many Germans -allow themselves to be made -prisoners; they know we will treat -them humanely: <i>A Member of the -Ambulance Corps</i>.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="Chap_XVIII" id="Chap_XVIII">XVIII. THE COMMON TASK</a></h2> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">The land we from our fathers had in trust,</div> -<div class="i0">And to our children will transmit or die:</div> -<div class="i0">This is our maxim, this our piety;</div> -<div class="i0">And God and nature say that it is just.</div> -<div class="i0">That which we would perform in arms—we must!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Wordsworth’s</span> “Motherland.” -</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">Glory we count of lesser worth</div> -<div class="i2">Than wife and babe and hearth and home;</div> -<div class="i0">Theirs is the mandate speeding forth</div> -<div class="i2">Our steps of thunder on the foam;</div> -<div class="i0">For them we fight, for them we stand,</div> -<div class="i0">Yea, and for faith ’twixt land and land.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="author"><span class="smcap">William Watson’s</span> “Ten Men Forsworn.” -</p> - -<p>Give my love to Patrick-street, -Waterford, for that is where the best -girl on earth lives, and tell Ireland -that we’re doing our duty and that -Thomas Moran will have another -go at the Germans directly the -doctor permits: <i>Pte. T. Moran, -East Lancashire Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>Busy!</h3> - -<p>We have had no time for anything, -for when we have a minute to spare -I have to give my clothes a scrub, -and they don’t half get in a state. -I have only got one pair of socks, and -I have to wait while they dry before -I can wear them: <i>Pte. Chapman, -3rd Hussars</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Really Good”</h3> - -<p>I am well, and just about having -the time of my life. It’s really -good always being on the move, -seeing fresh sights every day; and -if there should be a few Germans -on the move—why, it only increases -the fun, and throws a little more -excitement into the work: <i>Corpl. -R. Carton, Royal Field Artillery</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Great Time!</h3> - -<p>We are having good sport out -here. I have got as good a heart -now as I had when I left home. I -tell you there is nothing better than -having a few shells and bullets -buzzing round you as long as you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span> -don’t stop one. We are having -some fine feeds out here—ducks, -chickens, rabbits, and bags of fruit: -<i>Trooper G. W. Maddocks, 5th -Cavalry Brigade</i>.</p> - -<h3>In Mourning</h3> - -<p>Every now and again our vans -go out to aid in collecting and -dealing with the poor fellows who -are wounded. The dead, of course, -are beyond earthly aid, but the -chaplain reads some prayers as the -bodies are interred. Burials take -place at all sorts of queer places—by -the roadside, in farmyards, etc. -It is awful to see the devastation -which has been wrought: <i>Pte. -Coombe, Army Medical Corps</i>.</p> - -<h3>Consolations</h3> - -<p>Except for a bad cold and having -lost all my belongings, I am none -the worse. The thing I am sorry -about is that it all happened so -soon and sudden, and I hardly had -time to look round. But I am -ready for the next “Day excursion -to Berlin.” I have one consolation, -and that is I killed two Uhlans and -wounded one before they captured -me: <i>A Trooper of the Dragoon -Guards</i>.</p> - -<h3>All Smiles!</h3> - -<p>Much amusement was caused -during yesterday afternoon by some -remarkable legends chalked up on -some transport wagons passing -through. Such sentences as “This -way to Berlin!” “Kaiser killers,” -“Kaiser’s coffin,” “Vive la France!” -and sundry other information marked -up in chalk by the dusty, but jovial -travellers, caused people to stop and -smile: <i>Lance-Corpl. F. E. Hunt, -Duke of Cornwall’s Light Infantry</i>.</p> - -<h3>The Pot Boiling</h3> - -<p>I am very well; plenty to eat, -and tobacco. We are in action in -a wood, guns nicely under cover, -and we shall be, too, shortly, for it -is getting dark. We have made -snug little shelters for ourselves, -and are quite “comfy.” The pot -is on the fire, and it won’t be long -before we have a good feed. I hope -to be home for Christmas dinner, -so have a good spread: <i>Bombdr. -Earp, Royal Artillery</i>.</p> - -<h3>The Old Horse</h3> - -<p>I came down to the rest camp -with others to get a fresh horse. My -old horse was shot under me. I was -sorry, too, for he was a splendid -animal, and it is solely due to him -that I am alive to write this letter. -We had to make a run for it, and -I can tell you that those with slow -horses did not get far. Things are -going very well indeed with us now, -although they are about five, and -in some cases twenty, to one. But -we can generally manage to thrash -them: <i>Corpl. R. Greenwood, 18th -Hussars</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span></p> - -<h3>No More Collecting</h3> - -<p>I have given up collecting pieces -of shells for souvenirs, having found -myself a veritable Krupp’s scrap -heap. Spies seem to be the chief -excitement here, and the old motto -has been altered to read, “Catch -that spy!” Two days ago a haystack -was found in the interior of -which was a complete telegraph -office working by underground cable -to the German lines, and thus the -Germans were kept acquainted with -our movements and the disposition -of our artillery: <i>A Telegraphist, 1st -Army Headquarters</i>.</p> - -<h3>Worthy of Tom Brown</h3> - -<p>Another chap tried to get some -bread at a farm. After he had -made all sorts of queer signs the -woman seemed to understand, and -said, “Oui, oui, M’sieur,” rushed -back into the house and brought -back a bundle of hay! There was -a terrific roar of laughter from the -troops. The nonplussed look on -the woman’s face and the “fed-up” -expression on the chap’s made a -picture worthy of the pencil of -poor old Tom Brown: <i>Bombdr. -E. Cressy, Royal Field Artillery</i>.</p> - -<h3>Wonderfully Popular</h3> - -<p>The troops are wonderfully -popular, and I think a lot of it is -due to their kindliness to the kiddies -and animals, and also to their unbounded -enthusiasm and good spirits. -There’s no grousing, and there is -nothing but what fun is made of. -No one has seen the soldier at his -best unless he has seen him here. -Grimy, unshaved, his khaki full of -grease marks, and tired out, yet -full of life and fun, his sole luxury -a good wash—grub, sleep, everything -goes to blazes if there’s water -to be had for a wash, but, good -Lord, you should see our towels: -<i>A Sergeant of the Army Service -Corps</i>.</p> - -<h3>Messing Together</h3> - -<p>Every day we receive jam, bacon -or ham, bread, tinned meat (commonly -known as bully-beef), biscuits, -and cheese. We do not get a lot, -but enough to keep us in trim and -free from want. We also get plenty -of dry tea and sugar. It is quite -amusing at first to see the lads -making their tea, a thing they -are doing all day long. On this -game the boys generally get together -in groups of sixes, draw their rations -in bulk, and mess together. You -ought to see their cooking utensils. -They use water-cans, pails, in fact, -anything that holds a decent amount -of water: <i>Sergt. Clark, Duke of -Cornwall’s Light Infantry</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Merry and Bright”</h3> - -<p>I see you are all excited about -getting us plenty of socks, but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span> -Heaven only knows when we shall -get a chance to wear them. I -haven’t been out of my boots for a -fortnight. It would be much more -to the point if you were to send us -men to give the Germans “socks.” -“Merry and bright” is still our -motto. Don’t get downhearted, no -matter what you hear at home. -Some of these days things will come -all right. Keep your eyes wide open, -and you will have a big surprise -sooner than you think. We’re all -right, and the Germans will find -that out sooner than you at home: -<i>Private J. Willis</i>.</p> - -<h3>Next, Please!</h3> - -<p>I have never seen our lads so -cheery as they are under great trials. -You couldn’t help being proud of -them if you saw them lying in the -trenches cracking jokes or smoking -while they take pot-shots at the -Germans.... We have very little -spare time now, but what we have -we pass by smoking concerts, sing-songs, -and story-telling. Sometimes -we have football for a change, -with a German helmet for a ball, -and to pass the time in the trenches -have invented the game of guessing -where the next German shell will -drop. Sometimes we have bets on -it, and the man who guesses correctly -the greatest number of times takes -the stakes: <i>Sapper Bradle</i>.</p> - -<h3>That “Interest”</h3> - -<p>We are at present living in a -school, and it seems funny to see -so many soldiers’ beds on the floor. -Our bedding (don’t laugh) is one -waterproof sheet and our coat for -a blanket; and still we are all as -happy as sand-boys. We have been -here some time now enjoying a rest, -and at the same time getting fitted -out again for the front. As you -can imagine by reading the papers, -nearly everything we had—horses, -carts, wagons, cookers, and Maxims—were -all blown in the air by -German shells, but I am thankful -to say we have got over all that, -and shan’t forget to pay out Johnnie -German with interest the first time -we have the luck to meet him again, -which we all hope won’t be long, as -the sooner they are crushed the -sooner we will get home again: <i>A -Private of Keith, N.B.</i></p> - -<h3>Sad and Glad</h3> - -<p>I am having a very interesting -but a jolly hard time. About -fourteen days ago I was chased four -miles by German Lancers. They -were on horses, and I was on my -machine. The road was so bad -they nearly had me, but I stuck -to it and got away. It has been -raining “cats and dogs” the last -three days, and I am wet through, -but happy and contented and very -well. I shall have loads to tell you -when I get home—tales, I fear, of -pain, rapine, suffering, and all the -horrors of a great war; but all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> -the same I have some funny experiences -to relate as well: <i>Special -Dispatch-Rider A. R. Gurney</i>.</p> - -<h3>Unexpected!</h3> - -<p>On the Marne we spent two days -on a long mine out towards the -German lines, and just when we -were getting to the close of our job -we heard pickaxes going as fast and -as hard as you like, and then the -wall of clay before us gave way, -showing a party of Germans at the -same game! You never saw men -more astonished in your life. -“Fancy meeting you,” was written -all over their faces, and they hadn’t -quite recovered from their shock -when we pounced on them. We -had a pretty sharp scrap down -there indeed, but we got the best -of it, though we had four of our -chaps laid out. One German devil -was just caught in time with a fuse -which he was going to apply with -the mad idea of blowing us all up! -<i>Sapper T. Gilhooly, Royal Engineers</i>.</p> - -<h3>Tempting Grapes</h3> - -<p>In the last fight we were posted -near to a wall over which hung the -most tempting grapes you ever set -eyes on. When you’ve lain for -nearly a day in a hot sun without -bite or sup, grapes seem more -tempting than ever. Though the -Germans seemed to concentrate -their whole fire on the corner where -those grapes were, most of us -couldn’t resist the temptation and -risk of stealing out to get them. -What you had to do was to crawl -along the top of the trenches like a -big snail, and then, when you got -there, make a big spring up and -catch what you could before the -German shots caught you. We -weren’t always successful, and there’s -many a lad of ours owes his life or -his wounds to touching that forbidden -fruit: <i>An Irish Guardsman</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Our Menu!”</h3> - -<p>We were on a convoy of ammunition -and food, and had to go -about 150 miles. We had got -seventy odd miles, when we were -sighted by Uhlans. There were -about 100 of them, and fifty of -our men, and we got in a very bad -position, but we got out with the -loss of a few drivers, and we never -lost any of our convoy. This is -our menu: Monday: breakfast, -eggs; dinner, roast beef; tea, cake; -supper, fish. Tuesday: breakfast, -eggs; dinner, roast beef; tea, cake; -supper, eels. Wednesday: breakfast, -steak; dinner, rabbit; tea, -biscuits; supper, eels. Thursday: -breakfast, liver; dinner, pork; tea, -kippers; supper, stew. Friday: -breakfast, beef; dinner, ham; tea, -jam; supper, stew. Saturday: -breakfast, bacon; dinner, rabbit; -tea, ducks; supper, eggs. Sunday: -breakfast, eggs and bacon; dinner,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span> -roast beef; tea, tea. After Sunday -tea we all go to the pictures (I -<i>don’t</i> think): <i>Driver Ellis, Army -Service Corps</i>.</p> - -<h3>Trust Thomas!</h3> - -<p>We were all of us hungry yesterday. -To-day I have been out about -a mile and have returned with some -carrots, onions, and potatoes. These -have been peeled, cut up, and are -now boiling in a pail with six tins -of corned beef added. A feed is -what we contemplate, and a feed -we will have. We are all looking -forward to a profound gorge, and I, -for one, have moist lips at thought -of the meal within a commandeered -pail! But the bucket of stew is -done! It’s fine! Excellent!! Yes! -All that because it is rare on -campaigns such as this. We very -seldom see a cooked meal. It is -usually bread and biscuit, tinned -beef or tinned jam, bacon or cheese. -Trust Thomas Atkins to look after -himself, as you trust him to break -the back of Kaiserism: <i>Pte. A. E. -Basham, Bedfordshire Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>Night Duty</h3> - -<p>You ask me what night duty in -a surgical ward on active service is -like. Well, imagine a huge square -room, holding fifty beds, at present -occupied by thirty-three patients, -the rest having been sent to the -base hospital for convalescents. We -mount duty at 8 o’clock, and finish -at 7 <span class="small">A.M.</span> next morning. Our -work during the night consists of -attending to their personal wants, -such as—one would like a drink of -hot milk, another cannot sleep, he -is in pain—a shrapnel wound in the -thigh, and, unfortunately, he cannot -turn over. So you have to look at -the dressing, see that everything is -O.K., start a bit of a yarn about -anything, until he or you get fed -up. Get him a drink, and, in all -probability, the next time you have -a look at him he is asleep: <i>A -Hospital Orderly</i>.</p> - -<h3>Sea Echoes</h3> - -<p>We get now and again odd stories -of what our tars are doing, and we -were mighty pleased over that dust-up -in the North Sea. We kept -singing “Boys of the Bulldog -Breed” till we thought our throats -would crack, and it was taken up -all along the line by our men. It’s -not so risky as you would think -on the battlefield. We were under -heavy fire for two days before one -of us was hit; I know other regiments -had similar experiences. You’re -all right so long as you keep under -cover, but where the losses come in -is when you have to retire with all -those fiendish guns blazing away at -you in the open. Then you can’t -help being hit, and there’s always -their cavalry to look out for, -though it isn’t of much account<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> -against men with the bayonet. -They have more than they know -what to do with, and they’re -always turning up where they’re -least expected: <i>Corporal W. Johnson</i>.</p> - -<h3>The Motor-Man</h3> - -<p>There are two of us in charge of -each motor, because the roads being -very bad our hands and wrists get -awfully tired holding the wheel, -and we relieve each other. Ours -is most important work, for it has -been said an army marches on its -stomach—that is to say, an army is -not much use if it is hungry; therefore, -if I have food wagons attached -to my motor I must be on the spot -when wanted—with ammunition it -is just the same, of course. When -our ammunition wagons get empty -other full ones are brought up and -ours are filled. We never go back -to fetch anything; so it is the -fighting line all the time. When -the battle is over—and some of -them have been very long, lasting -over days and days—we get what -rest and sleep we can, and have a -sound meal. If we have been fortunate -enough we have had sundry -naps during lulls in the fighting, -and have been able to get our food -in the same manner: <i>A Salvationist -Motor man, Royal Field Artillery</i>.</p> - -<h3>An Interpreter</h3> - -<p>I now coil myself up in the -“O.P.” corner of the stage of the -municipal theatre. It is curious to -see by the dim light of the pilot -lights forty or fifty men sleeping on -the boards with their rifles stacked -between them. The curtain is up, -but the auditorium is dark and -empty, for what is probably the -most realistic and interesting scene -that has ever been set between its -proscenium. I am surrounded by -a crowd of French people of every -age and of all shapes and sizes. The -fact that I am writing a letter seems -to strike them as an incident of -extraordinary interest. “Here’s one -writing a letter,” they call to their -friends, and they all flock round. -The people of this town press round -us when we feed, sleep, wash, dress, -and, in fact, at every moment of the -day. Until we were quartered in -the theatre some of the more modest -soldiers were compelled to wait till -it was dark before they could -summon up sufficient courage to -change their clothes. One old lady -has just come up and tested the -quality of the material of my tunic -and has moved off nodding her -head in approbation. Their interest -in our welfare is practical, nevertheless: -<i>Pte. F. J. St. Aubyn, Interpreter</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Proper Adventure</h3> - -<p>We saw a small body of Germans, -and, having nothing better to do, -we were told to go and capture -them. There were thirty, and they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span> -all gave in except one, who made a -rush for it right back past our -convoy. Two of us went after him. -The men on the lorries fired, but -they were afraid of hitting us. He -led us through the village, and -turned up a back lane into a sort of -builder’s yard. In that yard was a -pit of soft lime, and we were all -running so fast that we did not see -it. It looked like sand. In he -falls. I am following; in I goes; -can’t stop in time; up to our waists. -This bloke makes a grab at me; we -have a struggle; we are going in -further, gun and all. The other -man is shouting, “Why don’t you -shoot him?” but I couldn’t. The -barrel was choked with lime. Then -he spit in my face. That done it. -I hit him just a tap with the butt -end of my rifle on the napper, and -down he went. Meanwhile my pal -had gone for help. They fetched -planks, ladders, and all sorts of -things. At last they pulled me out -by sticking my head and shoulders -through the rungs. You should -have seen me when I did get out—a -very pretty sight. When the -women saw me they tore all the -things off me and threw pails of -water over me and thoroughly -dowsed me. One woman gave me -an old skirt to put on, and I marched -back like that. As far as I know, -that “sausage” is there now, as he -did not wake up after that tap for -luck: <i>An Infantry Private</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Culture” for Them</h3> - -<p>The Germans are great on night -attacks, but they soon found out -that they had to be out very early -if they wanted to catch us napping. -One night we got a hint that something -might be looked for, so we -made preparations to give them a -very nice reception when they paid -their early morning call. Strong -parties of picked shots were thrown -out all along the line towards the -German trenches and their orders -were to lie in wait until the -Germans came up to drive back the -pickets. Just when we were getting -impatient and wanting to shout, -“Hurry up! Hurry up!” like they -do in the music halls when the turns -are slow at coming on, rifles began -to crack in front, and the pickets -fell back more quickly than usual. -That was our chance. The Germans -came on like the great big -brave chaps they are when they’re -twenty to one, and we let them -come until the head of their force -was level with a tree that had been -marked for range. “Now!” the -officer in command whispered, and -we gave it them right where they -carry their rations after dinner. -We poured another volley into -them, and then went after them -with the bayonets. They beat us -easily in the sprinting; besides, we -had orders not to venture too far -from camp, so we came back and lay -down to wait for the next turn.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> -They came back again, and when -they got to the tree they stopped -to look around. They got the same -old sauce as before, and they were -off again. The entertainment -wasn’t altogether over, for half an -hour later a big body of Germans -falling back from another little -surprise on our left walked right -into us. We blazed right into -them, and they didn’t wait to ask -what sort of culture it was that -made it possible to grow rifles in -the wood at night-time: <i>A Lance-Corporal -of the East Yorkshire Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>Cooking no Joke</h3> - -<p>I daresay you wonder how we go -on about our cooking. When we -were in column we had a cook for -every sub-section. Every evening, -or when we arrived at our billet, -rations were drawn. A sub-section -of forty men would draw about eight -to twelve pounds of cheese, nine or -ten pounds of bacon, about one and -a half to two pounds of tea, two to -three pounds of sugar, and, if there -was bread, about sixteen loaves, each -weighing about two pounds, or two -56 lb. boxes of biscuits, forty tins of -bully beef, or twenty-eight pounds -of fresh meat. I cooked for three -weeks, and I can assure you it is no -joke to be cook to forty men and -not know much about the work. I -will give an idea of a day’s work as -cook. We had as a rule <i>réveillé</i> at -3 <span class="small">A.M.</span> or 4 <span class="small">A.M.</span> I would get up -half an hour earlier and start the -fire. The water would boil within -twenty minutes, and I put the tea -and sugar in. The men would afterwards -use the fire themselves for -frying. Directly breakfast was over I -filled the dixies again and kept them -ready for dinner. Some of the fellows -would come in and would peel -potatoes and carrots. I cut the -meat up, or, if there was no fresh -meat, I opened tins of bully beef as -a substitute. I put this on the fire -two or three hours before dinner so -as to ensure it being done properly. -In the afternoon rations were drawn. -I had to cut them up, and it wants -some judgment to cut a small piece -of bacon or cheese for forty hungry -men. But it was always done somehow. -Tea was ready from four to -five o’clock. Milk was got where -possible, in addition to eggs and -butter. I was fed up with it after -three weeks and handed it over. It -is different in the battery I am in -here. The corporal draws the -rations and cuts them up. We -generally have bacon for breakfast. -We fry it in our saucepan together -and soak the bread in the fat; it -goes down good: <i>Gunner Southern, -Royal Horse Artillery</i>.</p> - -<h3>Let Down Lightly</h3> - -<p>One night—there were about -ten of us—we were surprised to -find a light in an empty farmhouse,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> -and were still more surprised to -find sounds of revelry coming out -through the window. We peeped -in, and there were about fifty Germans -all over the shop, drinking, -and eating, and smoking, and -generally trying to look as if they -were having a jolly old time. It -was a dare-devil of an Irishman -who suggested that we ought to -give the Germans a little surprise, -and we were all in with him. -Doing our best to look fierce, and -create the impression that we had -at least a brigade behind us, we -flung open the door without any -ceremony. Our first rush was for -the passage where most of the Germans -had stacked their rifles, and -from there we were able to cover -the largest party in any one room. -They were so taken aback that they -made very little resistance. The -only chap who showed any fight at -all was a big fellow, who had good -reason to fear us, for he had -escaped the day before, after being -arrested as a spy. He whipped out -a revolver, and some of his chums -drew swords, but we fired into them, -and they threw up their hands, -after the little one had sent a -revolver bullet through my arm. -We fastened them up securely, -collected all the smokes and grub -they had not touched, and marched -them off to the camp. There was -a nice how-d’ye-do when we got -back, for the sound of firing so -close by had alarmed the whole -camp, and we were called to -account for our behaviour. I think -they were inclined to let us down -lightly, because of the prisoners, -particularly the spy chap; but we -had no business to be out of barracks -that night, and we’ll probably -have some mark of official displeasure -chalked up against us: -<i>Pte. F. Lewis, 1st South Staffs</i>.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="Chap_XIX" id="Chap_XIX">XIX. MATTERS IN GENERAL</a></h2> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">Come all the world against her,</div> -<div class="i0">England yet shall stand.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="author"><span class="smcap">A. C. Swinburne.</span> -</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">Vain, mightiest fleets of iron framed;</div> -<div class="i2">Vain, those all-shattering guns,</div> -<div class="i0">Unless proud England keep, untamed,</div> -<div class="i2">The strong heart of her sons.</div> -<div class="i0">So, let his name through Europe ring—</div> -<div class="i2">A man of mean estate,</div> -<div class="i0">Who died as firm as Sparta’s king,</div> -<div class="i2">Because his soul was great.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Sir F. H. Doyle’s</span> “Private of the Buffs.” -</p> - -<p>We run a series of concerts each -evening round a big camp fire, and -I am always the first to start them -off. There are three French girls -who come down and sing for us, -but they are not as good as you at -singing: <i>A Private of the A.M.C.</i></p> - -<h3>The Kilt</h3> - -<p>Most of the Highlanders are hit -in the legs. It is because of tartan -trews and hose, which are more -visible at a distance than any other -part of their dress. Bare calves -also show up in sunlight: <i>Private -P. Barry</i>.</p> - -<h3>Proper Officers</h3> - -<p>Our officers don’t grab the best -for themselves like the German -brutes. The other night, in the -wet and cold—and it was really -cold—three of our officers turned -out of a snug big bedroom in a -farm to make way for four of our -privates who were done up with -cold and fatigue: <i>Pte. Watts, -Cheshire Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>Scented!</h3> - -<p>Soap is unknown out here, but -luck had it that I found a German -haversack the other day. It contained, -amongst numerous useless -things, two sticks of shaving soap -(scented). Now all the troops are -chipping me for using scented soap -on active service. I don’t mind—it’s -soap: <i>Pte. Revis, 4th Middlesex -Regiment</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span></p> - -<h3>Bottles All the Way</h3> - -<p>Some of the towns we passed -through suggested that there had -been a battle of bottles rather than -a battle of bullets. The streets -were thickly strewn with bottles, -champagne bottles and bottles that -had contained the modest vin -ordinaire. In those respects the -Germans do themselves well: -<i>Bombdr. Jamieson, Royal Artillery</i>.</p> - -<h3>Brain and Muscle</h3> - -<p>The French are fighting hard all -round us with a grit and a go that -will carry them through. Have -you ever seen a little man fighting -a great, big, hulking giant, who -keeps on forcing the little man -about the place until the giant -tires himself, and then the little -one, who has kept his wind, knocks -him over? That’s how the fighting -round here strikes me. We are -dancing about round the big German -army here, but our turn will -come: <i>Corpl. T. Trainor</i>.</p> - -<h3>A True Dream</h3> - -<p>It is a funny thing that Harry -should dream about my arm being -in a sling. You can tell him it is -quite true. It was my right arm, -and it is in a sling, but it will -soon be out again for action. I -enclose you a photo of dear old -“Taff,” the goat which was the -mascot of the regiment. He was -shot the same day as I was, but I -am very sorry to say that he is -dead: <i>Pte. Boswell, Welsh Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Tough Nuts”</h3> - -<p>Have come across some very -strange soldiers, with stranger -weapons and equipment. Talk -about the load of a Tommy, the -pack of a Turco or Senegalese is -double the size, and they are tough -nuts, you take it from me. The -cultured army of Kaiser Bill is -material for mincemeat before very -long, and all I can say is, “God -help the troops with which the -native regiments, both African and -Indian, get to grips”: <i>A Staff -Sergeant-Major</i>.</p> - -<h3>No Football!</h3> - -<p>It is all very well to read in the -papers what a chap wrote to someone -in Redhill about being fifty-six -hours in the trenches and arranging -football matches. We were thirteen -days in the trenches at one place, -where we only had to stand up -a minute to bring a battery of -German artillery on the top of us, -and for hours we had to lie still or -be blown to atoms. But never -mind; the sun will shine again: -<i>Pte. Gibson, Royal Scots</i>.</p> - -<h3>Hungry!</h3> - -<p>“Daddy’s Old Corps,” as we call -the Lincolns, caught a lot of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> -prisoners who seemed glad to get -caught. One man was asked if he -spoke English. He replied, “English -none,” and on being asked if he -wanted some biscuits, he said, “Ah, -yes, I’m hungry,” so he was evidently -a typical German—good at -telling lies. He also knew how to -demolish, for he got through six -biscuits and a 12 oz. tin of bully in -the twinkling of a gnat’s eyebrow, -and then said, “More”: <i>Corpl. -Hawkins, of the Lincolns</i>.</p> - -<h3>Animal Instinct</h3> - -<p>Even the animals in the French -villages seemed to know the difference -between us and the Germans, -and they used to come out to meet -us. There was a dog that followed -our battery on the march for four -days, and we hadn’t the heart to -chase it away, and kept it with us. -It was a soldier’s dog, you could -see, and it died a soldier’s death, -for it was smashed to pieces by a -shell when curled upon the ground -beside one of our guns in action. -We crave it a soldier’s funeral with -our own comrades next day: <i>An -Artilleryman, of Leicester</i>.</p> - -<h3>Sacramental</h3> - -<p>I am thankful to say I managed -to take communion this morning, -the first time since I have been out -here, and I took it under very extraordinary -conditions. It was in a -large house, which has been converted -into a hospital, and we were -in a dark cellar, in which were -several casks of wine. We knelt on -mattresses covered with blood, and -we could hear shells bursting outside. -We could also hear the groans -of the wounded inside the building, -Germans as well as English, but -still the communion service was nice -and inspiring, even under such conditions: -<i>Sergt.-Major Elliott, Queen’s -West Surrey</i>.</p> - -<h3>Sportsmen!</h3> - -<p>You see some of us with a saucepan, -or a frying-pan, and all sorts -of pots to do a bit of cooking in. -We covered a large cornfield one -day in action, and when a few -rounds had gone up a hare and a -rabbit dodged my way. I had -them both. My pal had a plump -little partridge, and then a fowl -got in the way; so we had a good -feed at the end of the day. We -pooled the lot and put them in a pot -together: <i>Pte. Oliver, 2nd Worcesters</i>.</p> - -<h3>Praise and Song</h3> - -<p>Before leaving Belgium we arranged -with a priest to have -masses said for the souls of our -dead chums, and we scraped together -what odd money we had, -but his reverence wouldn’t hear of -taking our money for prayers for -the relief of the brave lads who had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> -died so far from the Old Land to -rid Belgian soil of the unmannerly -German scrubs. When we got here -we sang “Paddies Evermore,” and -then we were off to chapel to pray -for the souls of the lads that are -gone: <i>Private McGlade</i>.</p> - -<h3>Convalescent!</h3> - -<p>By the address, you will see I am -at my winter hotel, but, unfortunately, -am confined to my room by -a slight indisposition. As a matter -of fact, I have been wounded in my -left leg by a sweet little German -humming-bird, or bullet, which -wanted a good home. This place -is a magnificent hotel, and we are -very comfortable here. I am in a -spacious ball-room, beautifully -decorated. The kindness of the -French people is wonderful, and an -example to some of the Britishers, -who in time of peace won’t look at -a redcoat: <i>Lance-Corporal Hawkins</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Strange “Bisley”</h3> - -<p>We were down to the last cigarette -in a box that had done the company -for a week. There was a fight to get -it, but the sergeant-major said we -would have to shoot for it like the -King’s Prize at Bisley. It was to -go to the man hitting the most -Germans in fifty shots. A corporal -was sent up a tree to signal hits -and misses as best he could. Half -the company entered, and the prize -was won by a chap who had twenty-three -hits. The runner-up had -twenty-two, and, as a sort of consolation -prize, he was allowed to sit -near while the winner smoked the -cigarette. He said being near the -smoke was better than nothing: -<i>A Private of the Scottish Rifles</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Tiddlers!”</h3> - -<p>We billeted for two days at a place -two days’ march from Belgium, and -had a pretty good time bathing, -and—what was most amusing—fishing -in a small pond for -“tiddlers.” I and a chum went -to a woman at a house and, making -her understand the best way we -could, begged some cotton and a -couple of pins. We had a couple -of hours’ fishing, and captured quite -two dozen, although before long -lots of our chaps caught the complaint -and did the same as we did, -causing much amusement. I suppose -that Frenchwoman had to -buy a new stock of cotton, but she -was a good sort and was as much -amused as the soldiers: <i>Pte. -Purgue, of the Royal Fusiliers</i>.</p> - -<h3>Grace—and Food</h3> - -<p>The open-air service was good. -The chaplain is a dear old chap. -I had to go and fetch him from -headquarters and take him back -after the service, which was rather -touching, though he managed to put<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span> -a bit of fun into it. He gave us a -text which I think I shall remember -all my life; it fitted the occasion so -good. It was: “The Lord shall -preserve thy going out and thy -coming in.” I am having a rather -soft time of it lately.... Two -weeks ago I was out buying bullocks, -and that journey lasted ten days. -I had a nice bed each night, tons of -good food, and a good bath. It -was the first time I had taken my -clothes off since we landed: <i>A -Soldier with the 4th Division Train</i>.</p> - -<h3>Polus!</h3> - -<p>Our fellows get on very well -with the Frenchmen; I suppose it -is because most of us can talk the -lingo after a style. There was one -old chap called Polus, a short, tubby -little fellow with bright eyes and -black moustache, we palled up to -quite a lot. He could sing quite -well, and was very funny when we -called him Signor Caruso. We had -him by the fire the other night; -you can imagine us round a fire -in a corner, formed up against the -outside wall of the station, and a -lean-to shed, ourselves, some of the -Scottish, and some Frenchmen, and -this old chap singing and keeping -us laughing all the time. He had -really a fine voice, and sang the -“Marseillaise” and “Toreador,” -and one or two other songs very -well indeed: <i>Sergt. Sandle, of the -H.A.C.</i></p> - -<h3>“Gey Hard!”</h3> - -<p>Two of our chaps one day had -a wrangle about when we were -likely to reach Berlin. One thought -it would be by Christmas, but the -other, being more patriotic, was for -St. Andrew’s Day, and said there -was no prospect of any haggis for -the occasion. They made a bet on -it, and it was duly registered by a -chum, who acted as bookmaker for -them frequently. Next day they -were in action, and one of them was -badly hit. His mate found him, -and he saw he hadn’t long to live. -The wounded man was far gone, -but he had enough sense to recognize -his chum, and in a weak voice -he said, “I’m thinkin’, Geordie, -that wee bet o’ oors wull hae tae be -aff noo. It’s gey hard, but the -Almighty kens best”: <i>A Sergeant -of the Seaforth Highlanders</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Terribly Put Out”</h3> - -<p>I see men of the other Irish -regiments now and again, and -they’re terribly put out over the -way these German heathens are -destroying churches and sending -priests out to starve by the roadside -in order that the Germans may -be free to live in their swinish way -in the houses and churches and -sacred buildings. There’s not a -man in any of the regiments, Protestant -or Roman, that doesn’t -mean to make the Germans pay for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span> -this, and, with all their bitterness -against our faith, there are Protestants -from the North who are -wilder than we are about it, and -declare they won’t stand by and see -such things done by dirty Germans -without making a row about it. -One of them said the other day in -his solemn Presbyterian way, “I -hate the Pope as much as any man, -and I wouldn’t think twice about -shutting down all your chapels, but -it’s another story when the Germans -try it on.” That’s the way most of -the men from the North look at it: -<i>Pte. Harkness, Royal Irish Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Fortunate One</h3> - -<p>I am one of the fortunate ones. -I was always told I would never be -killed, and I begin to think I was -born under a lucky star. I have -been engaged in driving motor-wagons -to and from the men lying -in the trenches fighting our battle -on the Aisne. Certainly I have -seen very little of the fighting, but -the roar of the big guns has been -my companion night and day. I -had not been on the job four days -before I lost my first wagon, which -I named the “London, Croydon, -and Purley Growler.” On my second -journey to the field of operations -we were ambushed by a body of -Germans, who pounced out of a -wood, but not one of them got back -to tell the tale. It was a perfect -eye-opener for me and a nerve-tester, -I can tell you. We were just congratulating -ourselves when crash -went a shell on to the bonnet. How -I escaped I don’t know. My growler -was no good; she was a complete -wreck. After transferring the load -to another lorry we abandoned her -and got away, but not before several -of our fellows were winged: <i>Private -W. G. Davies, A.S.C.</i></p> - -<h3>Joke, but No Beer</h3> - -<p>Some men prefer to prepare their -own food, but the majority divide -themselves into sections and get -one, or sometimes two, of their -number to do all the cooking, -washing up, etc. And whatever -“cookie” serves up is always accepted -as excellent. And many are -the jokes cracked and tales told -round the fire during meal-times. -Very often the cooks have just got -a fire going and the pots on when -the order comes, “Wind up,” <i>i.e.</i> -start engines going, and then there -is commotion. Semi-boiling water -has to be thrown away, and half-cooked -food put back in the “grub-box” -till the next stop. But we -have nothing to grumble at. There -is food—and to spare—for all of -us. One thing that is often wanted -by our men is a good glass of -English ale. I know a few here -who would gladly give their day’s -rations for a “pint.” The “land<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> -of wine and cider” will never be -the “land of beer” to the English -Tommy. We have many a sing-song -of a night round the camp -fires. I have got a melodeon, which -was left on a battlefield by a German -soldier, so that is our band. -It is an impressive sight to see -about thirty fellows around a fire -singing lustily “A Little Grey Home -in the West,” accompanied by a -melodeon, with the roar of cannon -occasionally breaking in: <i>Driver -Drake, of the Supply Column</i>.</p> - -<h3>The Country Round</h3> - -<p>The people all round here speak -Flemish; it is a curious mixture of -English, French, and German, and -they sometimes give us useful information. -They are a fine healthy -stock, and work like niggers for us. -Our hostess was up all night feeding -soldiers as they came in. Yesterday -I met a splendid old man, who -told me all about his son and -showed me his photograph; he had -one postcard from his son, with no -date, merely saying, “All well,” -and the old man told me he had -buried it in the garden for fear the -Germans should come and take it -from him. That gave me some -idea of how people at home feel -about their relatives at the front: -<i>Despatch-rider Gabain, 1st Cavalry -Brigade</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Jambon!”</h3> - -<p>We sleep fourteen in a tent, -which is a bit crowded, but we are -not in it long enough to notice it. -Fourteen of us washed in two quarts -of water this morning! So we have -plenty of ink, and some of us haven’t -changed our clothes for five or six -weeks. We have two rather queer -pets here: two little pigs, who run -about among the horses, and are -quite friendly with them, and eat -their corn as well. As one of the -fellows said, pork (or, as the French -call it, <i>jambon</i>) tastes very nice -boiled, so they may be, before very -long, in the casualty list as missing -or prisoners of war: <i>Lance-Corpl. -Forward, Army Service Corps</i>.</p> - -<hr class="chap" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="Chap_XX" id="Chap_XX">XX. SUMMING IT UP</a></h2> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">We must be free or die, who speak the tongue</div> -<div class="i0">That Shakespeare spake: the faith and morals hold</div> -<div class="i0">Which Milton held.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Wordsworth’s</span> “It is not to be thought of.” -</p> - -<div class="center"><div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<div class="i0">Drink! to our fathers who begot us men,</div> -<div class="i2">To the dead voices that are never dumb;</div> -<div class="i0">Then to the land of all our loves, and then</div> -<div class="i2">To the long parting, and the age to come.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="author"><span class="smcap">Henry Newbolt’s</span> “Sacramentum Supremum.” -</p> - -<p>Now we have our nose in the -right direction, but it’s stiff work -and slow, and a case of dog eat -dog, the meat being tough on -either side: <i>Sergt. Surr, East Lancashires</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Chin-Waggers”</h3> - -<p>Don’t run away with the idea -that this is going to be an easy -thing, for it’s not, and the sooner -the fireside chin-waggers at home -realize it the sooner will the job be -finished in the way a soldier likes to -see such jobs done: <i>Private E. Mayhead</i>.</p> - -<h3>The Better Man</h3> - -<p>The German bully has not quite -come up to expectations. Tommy is -his superior in every department, bar -telling lies, of which the “sausage” -has no superior. They are getting -hard hit all over the place, and -seem anxious to get back to the -Vaterland: <i>Corporal Rogers</i>.</p> - -<h3>No Anxiety</h3> - -<p>Surely you are not anxious in -England about the result of the war. -There can only be one result if Germany -still continues to fight—that -is, the absolute destruction of her -army. There has no one been taken -in more than we ourselves have been -with the quality of the German -army: <i>Pte. Harker, Army Service -Corps</i>.</p> - -<h3>Volunteers!</h3> - -<p>The Germans are making a dead -set at the English, and are putting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> -their best troops against them. -They despised us as a negligible -quantity, but they have got to -know by now that they have to -reckon with some of the best fighting -troops in the world. We fight -voluntarily and not compulsorily: -<i>A Sergeant-Major of 18th Hussars</i>.</p> - -<h3>The Popular C.I.C.</h3> - -<p>The whole of the army has absolute -confidence in General French. -He is such a splendidly cool leader. -Nothing flurries him, and he treats -his troops like men. When he -passes along the lines he doesn’t -come looking sulky or stern, but -he will talk as pleasantly to the -ordinary soldier as to the highest -officer. Yes, the army in France -will follow General French anywhere: -<i>Pte. S. Powell, 2nd Batt. -Welsh Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>The Wrong Horse</h3> - -<p>We don’t mind how hard the -Germans press us, for we can always -give them as good as they give us, -with something to spare as a reminder -to Kaiser Bill that he’s -backed the wrong horse this time. -I expect he knows it by now, however, -and I wouldn’t be in his place for -worlds. It must be awful to feel -that you have made mugs of so -many poor chaps who are being sent -to their deaths for no good reason -that any sane person can see: <i>Private -J. Thomson</i>.</p> - -<h3>Close Fighting</h3> - -<p>When it comes to close fighting -it has been shown more times than -I can count that, man for man, our -regiments are equal to anything the -Germans can put in the field, and -we’re certainly not impressed with -the fighting finish of the German -soldier. Their prisoners are surly -and bad-tempered, who don’t like -being taken, and evidently bear us -a grudge for catching them: <i>Private -T. Macpherson</i>.</p> - -<h3>Mud—and Glory</h3> - -<p>There’s very little chance for any -of the showy kind of fighting that -gets into the papers and delights the -girls. It’s simply dull, dreary work -in the trenches, where there’s more -mud than glory and more chills on -the liver than cheers. This war will -be won by the men who can put up -with the most of that sort of thing, -and we have got to grin and bear it -right to the end. I must say that, -though it’s not what they like best, -our chaps are keeping at it pretty -well, and they won’t be easily worn -out at this game: <i>Pte. G. Turner, -Hampshire Regiment</i>.</p> - -<h3>What Thinks the Kaiser?</h3> - -<p>What do you think of our army -now? I wonder what the Kaiser -thinks about it? His famous crushing -machine turns out to be an easily -demoralized crowd of automatic<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span> -soulless clods who don’t know the -meaning of individual effort and -efficiency. Take away their driving -power, the fear of their brutal -officers, and they stand a useless -mass of brainless, bewildered men. -They have a certain amount of -pluck, but they don’t know how to -put it to account: <i>A Manchester -Soldier</i>.</p> - -<h3>Professional!</h3> - -<p>German prisoners are a good deal -more friendly than they were. I -think they are coming to see we are -not the fiends we were painted, and, -besides, many of their men are sick -of the whole business. All classes -of society are found in the ranks as -private soldiers, and one of the -toughest customers I have had -through my hands was a professor -of music at one of the universities. -He was quite young, in spite of his -position, and he fought like a tiger. -His hatred of us was shown in -every way possible. He had lived in -London for some time and knew our -language well: <i>Sergeant T. Whelan</i>.</p> - -<h3>“Cracking Up!”</h3> - -<p>I am not at all surprised to find -the Germans cracking up before the -swift advance of the Allies. They -gave us the impression at first that -they were in too big a hurry to keep -going for long at a time, but I suppose -haste is part of the method of -waging war. The Germans themselves -are not very terrible as -fighters. It is the strangeness of -their methods and the up-to-date -character of their appliances that -count for a great deal. You do -not expect to be half blinded with -searchlights when marching at -night, and though we get used to -it soon, the horses do not, and I -found that we often got into tight -corners through the horses getting -terrified at the glare of the light: -<i>Trooper P. Ryan, 4th Dragoon -Guards</i>.</p> - -<h3>Easily the Best</h3> - -<p>Our men are easily the best troops -out here, and the Germans are the -“rottenest” fighters it is possible to -imagine. They fight like devils -when you can’t get at them, but -when captured (and we have got -them wholesale) they try to give -one the impression they don’t want -to fight, and only do so under compulsion. -Our infantry are simply -marvellous, especially the “Jocks” -and the “Guards.” Taking things -on the whole, the Germans rely -almost entirely on artillery, and -their shells drop like rain without -doing a great amount of harm, -whilst their infantry are packed like -sardines in trenches, and they could -not hit the town they were born in: -<i>Pte. L. Brown, 18th Hussars</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span></p> - -<h3>The Whip Hand</h3> - -<p>There’s not the least doubt that -we have the whip hand of the Germans -now, and it’s only a question -of time until we knock them under -altogether. Their officers simply -won’t hear of letting them surrender, -and so long as there’s an officer -about they’ll stand like sheep and -be slaughtered by the thousand. -They fear their officers ten times -worse than they fear death. When -there isn’t an officer about they’re -quick enough to surrender. Some -of them have been kept marching -night and day for days on end. It’s -a horrible sight to see some of them -used up as they have been; and they -hate their officers like poison for -what they have had to go through: -<i>Private King</i>.</p> - -<h3>The Pathos of It</h3> - -<p>One dare not think of all the -misery, sadness, and sorrow that -greets one where the fighting has -been; lifelong efforts and struggling -dashed to the ground in the space -of an hour or so. You quiet English -folks, with your beautiful homes -and orderly lives, cannot realize -what a modern war means. You -must spend night after night in -cattle trucks, where groaning, dying -men are lying on straw; you must -imagine the interior of those trucks, -only lighted with a dripping oil -lamp; you must see the pale, drawn -faces and the red-stained limbs; -then you must stop and ask yourself -if you are really in the -twentieth century, or if you are not -dreaming. How one gets to love -the light and the sun after such -nightmares, even when the Germans -were so near, and that with the -dawn we knew the sing-song of the -cannons would start again. I -could have yelled with joy at the -first signs of daylight: <i>An English -Interpreter</i>.</p> - -<h3>The London Bus</h3> - -<p>Some plucky things have been -done by chauffeurs and motor-lorry -drivers. It would make some -of your London drivers stare to see -what they will risk. One of them -said this war will cause a revolution in -motor driving, as, till now, they never -had a chance of seeing what a heavy -motor-van could do off a macadamized -road. They simply go whereever -there is room for them, and -more than once they have charged -patrol parties who tried to capture -them, and got through all right. -One driver, seeing that the road was -blocked, charged a wooden fence and -turf wall, and got out of the way of -a lorry that the Germans sent at -full speed to smash him. The smashing -was on the German lorry. Motorcycles -also do wonders. They travel -like demons, and rarely get hit: -<i>Pte. Watts, Cheshire Regiment</i>.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span></p> - -<h3>Putting up with It</h3> - -<p>Fighting’s kindergarten work compared -with lying in your damp clothes -in the washed-out trenches night and -day, with maybe not a chance of -getting any more warmth than you -can get from a wax match. That -you may have in the day-time, but -you’ll get into trouble if you fit it -on in the night, when the least sign -of light will bring the enemy’s fire -down on you, besides the court-martial -next day. You’re lying there -until you’re as stiff as if you were dead, -and your body’s twisted and torn -with the pains of rheumatism and -lumbago or quinsy, or your whole -frame shakes with the ague. That’s -the sort of work that tells you -whether a man’s made of the right -stuff, but you needn’t think there’s -any grumbling. Our chaps can put -up with that just as well as anybody, -and they’ll come through it all right: -<i>Pte. Cook, Coldstream Guards</i>.</p> - -<h3>Rubbing It In</h3> - -<p>What most of us feel here is that -the Germans are staking everything -on fighting in France or Belgium, -and when they are beaten, as they -will be sooner or later, they will -howl for peace to save their own -country from the horrors of invasion. -That’s an idea we have got from -their prisoners, and they think it’s -a rattling good one. If it were -left to the army to settle you may -be sure that we’d vote to a man for -giving the devils a taste of their -own medicine, and you’ll see us -crossing their sacred Rhine before -long unless you’re the greatest fools -in creation. You are only a woman -and can’t vote, but for Heaven’s -sake rub it in to all the men you -know that this is what the army -feels about the thing. We wouldn’t -make peace with the devils until -we’ve rubbed their noses well into -the ground of their Fatherland, and -we’ll do it yet, even if it costs us -a million lives: <i>Lance-Corpl. S. -Northcroft, of Wolverhampton</i>.</p> - -<h3>The Franco-British Team</h3> - -<p>The great match for the European -Cup is still being played out, and I -daresay there’s a record gate, though -you can’t see the spectators from -the field. That’s one of the rules -of the game when this match is on. -Our team is about as fit as you -can have them, and they’re all good -men, though some of them are -amateurs and the Germans are all -“pros.” The German forwards are -a rotten pack. They have no dash -worth talking about, and they come -up the field as though they were -going to the funeral of their nearest -and dearest. When they are -charged they nearly always fall away -on to their backs, and their goal-keeping’s -about the rottenest thing -you ever set eyes on. I wouldn’t<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> -give a brass farthing for their -chances of lifting the Cup, and if -you have any brass to spare you can -put it on the Franco-British team, -who are scoring goals so fast that -we haven’t time to stop and count -them. The Kaiser makes a rotten -captain for any team, and it’s little -wonder they are losing. Most of our -side would like to tell him what they -think of him and his team: <i>A -Gunner of the Royal Field Artillery</i>.</p> - -<h3>Music and Lunch</h3> - -<p>We have been in the thick of -the fighting all the time, and I -can’t understand how it happens -that I’m alive and here now, and -everyone else is the same. If ever -there was a Providence above -watching and guarding, there is -one over our regiment, and me in -particular. Last week I was four -days and three nights without sleep -at all, except an hour in the saddle -or lying on the roadside; but we -have been having a rest this last -two days, and we could do with it. -You don’t look very well in your -photo; in fact, it made me feel -more worried than whole regiments -of Germans would do. You are -worrying about me, I am afraid, -and you absolutely must not do -that. Why, I’m in the pink of -condition; have just had a chicken -for dinner (from a deserted château). -Have just had two packets of -Player’s from the Cigarette Fund. -I’m just going to have a sleep, and -I wouldn’t call the King my uncle: -<i>A Bandsman of the Lancers</i>.</p> - -<h3>The Indian Men</h3> - -<p>Everybody is wild about the -Indians, and the way they behave -themselves under fire is marvellous. -One day we were close to them when -their infantry received its baptism of -fire. When they got the order to -advance you never saw men more -pleased in all your life. They went -forward with a rush like a football -team charging their opponents, or a -party of revellers rushing to catch -the last train. They got to grips -with the Germans in double-quick -time, and the howl of joy that went -up told us that those chaps felt that -they were paying the Germans back -in full for the peppering they had -got whilst waiting for orders. When -they came back from that charge -they looked very well pleased with -themselves, and they had every right -to be. They are very proud of -being selected to fight with us, -and are terribly anxious to make a -good impression. They have done -it, and no mistake. I watched -them one day under shell fire -and I was astonished at their coolness. -“Coal-boxes” were being -emptied around them, but they -didn’t seem to pay the slightest -heed, and if one of them did go<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> -under his mates simply went on as -though nothing had happened. They -make light of wounds, and I have -known cases where men have fought -for days with wounds that might -have excused any man dropping out: -I have seen a man dress one himself -in the firing line. One day I questioned -one chap about it, and his -answer, given with a smile, was, -“We must be as brave as the English.” -They are astonished at the -coolness of our men under fire, and -it’s amusing to hear them trying to -pick up our camp songs. They -were greatly taken with “The March -of the Cameron Men,” which they -heard one night. They have a poor -opinion of the Germans as fighting -men, and are greatly interested -when we tell them of the horrors -perpetrated on the French and Belgians. -We are all impressed with -the Indians—they are fine fellows: -<i>A Sergeant of the King’s Own -Scottish Borderers</i>.</p> - -<h3>A Happy Ending</h3> - -<p>I have a French book for travellers -in France, so with it I went to a -farm and showed them that I wanted -eggs. So they said, “Ah, wee.” -The man got a whip and bunched -all the chickens together, and then -told me to pick one out. I tried to -make him understand it was eggs -I wanted, not chickens, but failed. -So I got an onion, put it on some -straw, sat on it, and then got -up and “Cock-a-doodle-dooed!” -Laugh, you would have thought -they had gone mad. They went -to the farm next door and told -them, and there I was stuck in the -middle of them, going all colours -of the rainbow. The secret of it -was this; in the book it says: -“English, I would like two boiled -eggs; French, <i>Je veux deux œufs à -la coque.</i>” I showed them the last -word, which I thought was eggs, -but eggs is <i>œufs</i>. Well, well, it’s -all in a lifetime: <i>A London Fusilier</i>.</p> - -<div class="center"> -<img src="images/back_cover_verso.jpg" width="397" height="600" alt="" /> -</div> - -<div class="center"> -<img src="images/back_cover.jpg" width="397" height="600" alt="" /> -</div> - -<div class="transnote"><p>Transcriber's Note:</p> - -<p>Every effort has been made to replicate this text as faithfully as -possible, including inconsistent hyphenation. Some corrections of -punctuation have been made.</p></div> - - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The War Stories of Private Thomas -Atkins, by Thomas Atkins - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WAR STORIES *** - -***** This file should be named 52142-h.htm or 52142-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/2/1/4/52142/ - -Produced by Brian Coe, Paul Clark and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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