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+Project Gutenberg's On the right of the British line, by Gilbert Nobbs
+
+This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere 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
+
+
+Title: On the right of the British line
+
+Author: Gilbert Nobbs
+
+Release Date: April 19, 2010 [EBook #32051]
+
+Language: English
+
+Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
+
+*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ON THE RIGHT OF THE BRITISH LINE ***
+
+
+
+
+Produced by Jeannie Howse and The Online Distributed
+Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was
+produced from images generously made available by The
+Internet Archive/American Libraries.)
+
+
+
+
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ +-----------------------------------------------------------+
+ | Transcriber's Note: |
+ | |
+ | Inconsistent hyphenation in the original document has |
+ | been preserved. |
+ | |
+ | Obvious typographical errors have been corrected. For |
+ | a complete list, please see the end of this document. |
+ | |
+ +-----------------------------------------------------------+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+ ON THE RIGHT
+ OF THE BRITISH LINE
+
+
+
+
+ [Illustration: Captain Gilbert Nobbs.
+ _From a photograph by Aylett._]
+
+
+
+
+ ON THE RIGHT
+ OF THE BRITISH LINE
+
+
+ BY
+ CAPTAIN GILBERT NOBBS
+ (LATE L.R.B.)
+
+
+ NEW YORK
+ CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
+ 1917
+
+
+
+
+ COPYRIGHT, 1917, BY
+ CHARLES SCRIBNER'S SONS
+
+ Published September, 1917
+
+
+
+
+ BESIDES THE MAN WHO FIGHTS
+ THERE IS THE WOMAN WHO WAITS, AND
+ IN HUMBLE TRIBUTE TO HER SILENT HEROISM
+ I DEDICATE THIS BOOK
+
+
+
+
+PREFACE
+
+
+This is my first book. It is also my last. But I have a record to make
+and a duty to perform. I was five weeks on the firing line; four weeks
+mourned as dead; and three months a prisoner of war.
+
+I have attempted to make a true record of all that happened. The names
+alone are fictitious (all except that of Saniez), for those days were
+too full of stirring events which will long live in my memory to need
+the aid of fiction. If I have dwelt at some length upon my experience
+in Germany, it is with the hope that the information may be of
+interest to those who have relatives and friends still in the hands of
+the enemy and burn to know the truth.
+
+I do not deplore the loss of my sight, for I can say in all sincerity
+that I was never happier in my life than I am to-day.
+
+ G.N.
+
+
+
+
+CONTENTS
+
+
+ CHAPTER PAGE
+
+ I. FOVANT 1
+ ORDERLY ROOM. OFF TO THE FRONT.
+
+ II. THE SILENT HEROES 6
+ THE WOMAN WHO WAITS--AND SUFFERS IN SILENCE.
+
+ III. DEPARTURE FOR THE FRONT 9
+ WATERLOO STATION. LUNCHEON ARGUMENTS. THE BAGGAGE
+ PROBLEM.
+
+ IV. CROSSING THE CHANNEL 15
+ THE DOCK PORTER. A WHIFF OF BOND STREET.
+
+ V. GOING UP THE LINE 24
+ PERFIDIOUS GANG-PLANKS. D'ARCY STRANDED. GUIDES WHO
+ CANNOT GUIDE. A HEATED ARGUMENT.
+
+ VI. RATIONS 33
+ I LEARN TO HATE FOOD. MATHEMATICAL PROBLEMS.
+
+ VII. ST. AMAND 37
+ I REPORT AT HEADQUARTERS. THE PROBLEM OF
+ VENTILATION.
+
+ VIII. EARLY IMPRESSIONS 41
+ BILLETS. A STARTLING INCIDENT. REST CAMP.
+
+ IX. DEPARTURE FOR THE SOMME 48
+ CORBIE. HAPPY VALLEY. PASSING THROUGH THE GUNS.
+
+ X. ARRIVAL ON THE SOMME 57
+ FEEDING THE GUNS. SEPTIMUS D'ARCY ARRIVES. A CURIOUS
+ KIT.
+
+ XI. DEATH VALLEY 66
+ MOVING OVER BATTLE-FIELDS. ---- BATTALION, LONDON
+ REGIMENT, IN POSSESSION. THE MYSTERY TRENCH.
+ FALFEMONT FARM.
+
+ XII. OUT IN NO MAN'S LAND 71
+ SUDDEN ORDERS. THE BEGINNING OF A GREAT ADVENTURE.
+ DIGGING IN.
+
+ XIII. A NIGHT OF ALARM 82
+ SEPTIMUS IN A NEW RÔLE. SAVING THE AMMUNITION. THE
+ LAST CARTRIDGE.
+
+ XIV. NEXT MORNING 87
+ A COUNCIL OF WAR. OPERATION ORDERS. A BITTER
+ DISAPPOINTMENT.
+
+ XV. THE ADVANCE THROUGH LEUZE WOOD 91
+ NEW OPERATION ORDERS. "AT ANY COST." LIKE RATS IN
+ A TRAP.
+
+ XVI. THE ATTACK 101
+ A DESPERATE SITUATION. BATTLE FORMATION. "FOR
+ ENGLAND."
+
+ XVII. AT ANY COST 110
+ OVER THE TOP. MAD, FIGHTING MAD. THE FINAL ASSAULT.
+
+ XVIII. LEFT ON THE FIELD 116
+ THE MYSTERY OF DEATH. THE SECRET CODE. TWO TERRIBLE
+ DAYS.
+
+ XIX. THE JAWS OF DEATH 123
+ LONELINESS, DARKNESS, AND SILENCE. A LAST EFFORT. I
+ PREPARE FOR DEATH.
+
+ XX. AT THE MERCY OF THE HUN--AND AFTER 130
+ A BASIN OF SOUP. HOSPITAL AT ST. QUENTIN. THE "OPEN
+ SESAME."
+
+ XXI. ALIVE 143
+
+ XXII. BLINDNESS 147
+
+ XXIII. THE WOMAN WHO WAITS 151
+ THE TELEGRAPH BOY'S RAT-TAT. KILLED IN ACTION. WEEKS
+ OF MOURNING.
+
+ XXIV. WARD 43, RESERVE LAZARETTE 5, HANOVER 156
+ OCCUPANTS OF THE WARD. CHIVALRY OF THE AIR.
+
+ XXV. SANIEZ 160
+
+ XXVI. LIFE IN HANOVER HOSPITAL 166
+ HOSPITAL DIET. INTERVIEWED BY A GERMAN DOCTOR.
+ DISCHARGED FROM HOSPITAL.
+
+ XXVII. OBSERVATIONS AND IMPRESSIONS 176
+ EMPLOYMENT OF PRISONERS. PARCELS. MEN OF MONS.
+
+ XXVIII. STORIES OF THE HEROES OF MONS 187
+
+ XXIX. OSNABRUCK 199
+ ARRIVAL IN CAMP. THE CANTEEN. DAILY ROUTINE. RATIONS.
+ PARCELS. NEWS.
+
+ XXX. COMEDY AND DRAMA 215
+ I SALUTE THE WALL. THE STORY OF AN EGG. A NOVEL
+ BANQUET. JOY RIDE ON A LORRY. THE SWISS COMMISSION.
+
+ XXXI. FREE 227
+ I BLUFF THE GERMAN SERGEANT. AACHEN. TWO BOTTLES OF
+ WINE. ACROSS THE FRONTIER. GREAT SCOTT! I AM CHARGED
+ FOR MY OWN DEATH EXPENSES.
+
+
+
+
+ILLUSTRATIONS
+
+
+ Captain Gilbert Nobbs Frontispiece
+
+ Captain Nobbs after his release from the German
+ prison Facing page 164
+
+
+
+
+ ON THE RIGHT
+ OF THE BRITISH LINE
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER I
+
+FOVANT
+
+ORDERLY ROOM. OFF TO THE FRONT
+
+
+"The C.O. wants to see you."
+
+"What for?" I asked.
+
+"I don't know, but he is in the orderly room."
+
+It was the adjutant who was speaking, and his manner led me to think
+there was something in the wind which he did not like to tell me. I
+left the mess, and a few moments later I was standing before the C.O.
+
+"I have just received a telegram from the War Office; you are included
+in the next reinforcements for France."
+
+"I am glad, sir."
+
+"You've only forty-eight hours' notice. You are to report at
+Southampton at 4. P.M. the day after to-morrow."
+
+"Very good, sir."
+
+"Well, as your time is so short, you had better go home and get things
+ready. The adjutant will have your papers ready for you within half
+an hour."
+
+"Very good, sir."
+
+The C.O. stood up, and in his cordial military manner, which seemed to
+take you straight from the orderly room into the mess, held out his
+hand to bid me good-bye.
+
+There is quite a difference between a C.O. in the orderly room and a
+C.O. in the mess. I mean those C.O.'s who are made of the right stuff,
+and our C.O. was certainly one of them.
+
+In the orderly room his presence keeps you at arm's length and makes
+you feel that you want to keep clicking your heels and coming to the
+salute. You are conscious of the terrible crime you would commit if
+you permitted your body to relax from the position of attention; your
+conversational powers are restricted; you fancy you have a voice at
+the back of your head, saying:
+
+"Don't argue, listen; digest, and get out."
+
+It's a feeling which does not make the orderly room a very pleasant
+place to go to; yet you have an instinctive feeling of confidence.
+
+The same C.O. in the mess, however, is a different man and creates
+quite a different atmosphere. In the orderly room he holds you from
+him; in the mess he pulls you to him. You have the feeling that you
+can sit in an armchair, with your feet on the coal-box, and talk to
+him round the corner of your newspaper, like the very ordinary human
+being he really is.
+
+"Well, good-bye, and good luck." We shook hands, I came to the salute,
+and the next moment I found myself once more outside the orderly room
+door.
+
+Have you ever experienced the feeling? Yes, thousands have, for the
+despatch of reinforcing officers to the front in this abrupt manner
+was taking place daily throughout the empire. You remember the feeling
+quite well; amazement at its suddenness; eagerness for the adventure;
+the prospect of the home parting; the sudden change in the daily
+routine; the mystery of the future--all swirling through your brain in
+a jumble of thoughts.
+
+Then the hasty despatch of telegrams, the examination of time-tables,
+and the feverish packing of a kit which has grown to enormous
+proportions and hopelessly defies the regulations for weight.
+
+An hour later and I had made a quick sale of my bicycle, distributed
+odds and ends of hut furniture which I should no longer need, and was
+sitting in a motor-car, outside the mess, grabbing at hands which were
+outstretched in farewell.
+
+Those who lived in camp at Fovant can remember what an uninteresting,
+dreary place it seemed at the time, and how we cursed its monotony.
+Rows upon rows of uninteresting and uninviting looking huts; the
+large, barren square; the heart-breaking trudge to the station; the
+little village with the military policeman, who stood at the fork of
+the roads, and whose job seemed so easy, while ours seemed so hard;
+and who always seemed so clean and cool, while we seemed so hot and
+dusty.
+
+The city of Salisbury, our one ray of hope, but which was too far to
+walk to, and too expensive to ride to--all these things we used to
+look upon as sufferings which had to be put up with. But we can look
+upon the picture now, and there are few of us who can do so without a
+feeling of affection, for there was a spirit of comradeship there
+which links up the dreariness into pleasant recollections.
+
+Now that I have been through the mill I can look back at that parting
+scene, and as the car whirls away and my brother officers walk back
+into the mess, I fancy I can hear the comment of those who had not yet
+been out and those who had:
+
+"Lucky brute."
+
+"Poor devil!"
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER II
+
+THE SILENT HEROES
+
+THE WOMAN WHO WAITS--AND SUFFERS IN SILENCE
+
+
+I was soon comfortably settled in a first-class compartment and
+whirling towards Waterloo, with the worst ordeal of all still before
+me: the breaking of the news at home and the parting while the shock
+is still fresh.
+
+Who are the true heroes of the war?
+
+Our fighting men are cheered in the streets; every newspaper and
+magazine sings their praise; every shop-window reflects their needs;
+in theatre, pulpit, and workshop their praises are sung.
+
+But are they the real heroes of the war?
+
+Ask the fighting man himself. Speak to him of his wife or mother, and
+the expression on his face will answer your question.
+
+There is no one to sing her praise, no one to paint the picture of her
+deeds; no one to tell of that lonely feeling when her hero departs and
+the door is closed behind him.
+
+The fighting man looks upon his share of the war with a light heart.
+Events come too rapidly upon him to feel depressed. He does not feel
+the gnawing hunger of the lonely wait; the emptiness of the world when
+the parting is over; the empty chair at the table, and the rooms made
+cheerless by his absence.
+
+There is no one to describe the terrors of the morning casualty list;
+the hourly expectation and frozen fear of the telegraph boy's "rat
+tat," bringing some dreadful news.
+
+There are no crowds to cheer her; no flags or trumpets to rouse her
+enthusiasm and occupy her thoughts. No constant activity, thrilling
+excitement, desperate encounter.
+
+Hers is a silent patriotism. She is the true hero of the war. And in
+hundreds of thousands of homes throughout the empire, her silent
+deeds, her wonderful fortitude, are making the womanhood of Britain a
+history which medals will not reward, nor scars display.
+
+The fighting men know it, and when you cheer them, they know that
+there is still one at home who deserves your cheers, yet will not hear
+them; and who will seek no greater reward than the safe return of her
+own hero amid the applause which greets their homecoming.
+
+Fighting men acknowledge it! And when your ears are no longer deafened
+by the cheers of others, take off your caps, fill your lungs, and
+cheer to the echo the real heroes of the war.
+
+All honour to the woman who waits.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER III
+
+DEPARTURE FOR THE FRONT
+
+WATERLOO STATION. LUNCHEON ARGUMENTS. THE BAGGAGE PROBLEM
+
+
+Waterloo Station in war time presents a picture of unending interest.
+Here it is that a thousand dramas are acted daily. It is one huge
+scene of bustle and excitement. The khaki of the soldier, the blue of
+the sailor; the mother, the wife, the sweetheart; the sad partings,
+the joyful greetings. The troops entraining, spick and span in their
+new war kit; the war-worn soldier home on leave, bespattered with the
+soil of France; troops from the near-by camps on week-end leave,
+tumbling out of the carriages with the spirits of schoolboys, or
+looking for standing-room in the overcrowded compartments on the last
+train back.
+
+The scene is inspiring, depressing, historical.
+
+Hear the noise and babble of the throng; the sobs and the cheers; the
+last look, the last hand-shake, the cheery greeting and the boyish
+laughter--whilst out in the street, London continues its unaltered
+ways, indifferent to the greatest war in the world's history reflected
+within a stone's throw, in Waterloo Station.
+
+The Southampton train was rapidly filling, and I just managed to
+secure a seat and take a last look round. It needed a minute before
+the train was due to depart. Every window was filled with soldiers,
+and small groups were standing round each carriage door.
+
+Porters were hurrying backward and forward, trying to find seats for
+late arrivals. Women were sobbing, men were talking earnestly.
+Presently the shrill whistle of the guard; hurried farewells,
+spontaneous cheers, and the slowly moving train gradually left the
+station, carrying its human freight to an unknown destiny.
+
+I turned from the window and settled myself down in a corner. With me
+was Lieutenant Collins of our regiment, and Second Lieutenants Jones
+and Bailey of the London Regiment, while between us was a table laid
+for lunch.
+
+"Well!" said Collins, packing his kit which had been dangling in a
+threatening manner from the rack, "that's one job over. I'm not sorry
+it's over, either. I wish we were coming back instead of going. I
+wouldn't mind getting a blighty wound in about a month's time. That
+would suit me down to the ground."
+
+"Looking for trouble already," said Jones.
+
+"You don't call that trouble, a nice little blighty wound, and then
+home."
+
+"Don't be an idiot," I interrupted. "If every one felt the same way,
+who do you think is going to carry on the war?"
+
+"Don't know. Never thought of it. But all the same a blighty wound in
+about a month's time will suit me down to the ground."
+
+The conversation drivelled on in this way for a few miles, and finally
+turned into a heated discussion of the wine-list at the back of the
+menu.
+
+Luncheon was served, and we were soon heavily engaged in a fierce
+attack on chicken and ham, intermingled with joke and arguments. The
+cause of the war and the prospect of its finish.
+
+"Here's to a safe return," said Bailey, when his ginger ale had ceased
+to erupt its displeasure at being released from the bottle.
+
+"And here's to an early blighty wound," said Collins.
+
+"Hang it all," said Jones. "Can't you forget it?"
+
+The conversation was bursting out afresh, and fortunately did not
+drift into politics or religion; and arguments easily turned to jokes,
+and jokes into a fresh onslaught on the chicken and ham.
+
+There are some men who can argue best when armed with a knife and
+fork, and a good meal indisputably in their possession. There are
+others whose oratorical powers show greater promise when liquid
+refreshment is within easy grasp. In others yet again, the soothing
+influence of the twisted weed develops extraordinary powers. And
+before we arrived at Southampton town station the gift of each had
+full play.
+
+We soon found ourselves scrambling amongst the heap of luggage which
+had been thrown in confusion on to the platform, and commenced an
+anxious search for our kits.
+
+It is always the same at English railway stations, and our cousins
+from America and Canada scorn our system, or rather lack of system,
+for those who travel with baggage in England have always the
+possibility in front of them of a free fight to regain their
+possessions.
+
+There seems to be only one thing to do if you are going to travel with
+a trunk, and that is either to paint it in rainbow colours, so that it
+will stand out in striking contrast to the mountainous heap of baggage
+thrown topsyturvy out of the wagon on arrival at a terminus. Or, if
+not provided with this forethought of imagination, it is best to
+arrive at the starting station some hours ahead of time, and sit down
+on the platform and study the peculiarities of your trunk, its
+indentations and scratchings, and other characteristics, and
+committing all these details securely to your memory, so that when you
+arrive at the other end, and you jostle among the crowd gathered
+around the baggage-car, you can grab the collar of a porter and
+frantically shout: "There it is!" as it tumbles out of the wagon, to
+be finally submerged at the extreme bottom of the heap.
+
+Unfortunately, all military kit bags are exactly the same. It is true
+you have your name painted on the outside, but so has everybody, and
+when fifty or sixty bags come tumbling out, they all look exactly
+alike.
+
+That is how it was at Southampton town station, but we were all in
+good spirits, thanks to the wine-list before mentioned; and as all
+the owners of the kit bags were carrying an uncomfortable amount of
+ordnance stores on their backs, the heap of luggage soon became
+submerged beneath a still greater heap of energetic and perspiring
+humanity, until the scene looked not unlike a very much disturbed
+ant-hill.
+
+But I am exaggerating. Yet, the exaggeration of my words, written in a
+calm moment of thought is far less vociferous than the exaggerated
+words used at the time during the frantic endeavour to seek one's
+solitary kit bag, and extricate it in such a scramble.
+
+But at last the four of us, bent double by our packs, and freely
+perspiring in the heat of an August day, could be seen rolling,
+pushing, kicking, and dragging our worldly belongings off the platform
+towards the station entrance, to seek the hospitality of an ancient
+hack. And then we drove away, our kit and our equipments stacked high
+around us at precarious angles, and completely submerging the
+occupants, to the delight of the people who stood and watched us in
+open-mouthed amazement.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IV
+
+CROSSING THE CHANNEL
+
+THE DOCK PORTER. A WHIFF OF BOND STREET
+
+
+Arriving at the dock we reported to the embarkation officer, and were
+given a pass to leave the dock, but bearing the strict injunction that
+we must embark at 6 P.M.
+
+When you cross to France for the first time you are so nervous about
+missing the boat and running the risk of a court-martial, or some
+other such dreadful suggestion, that you hardly dare to leave the dock
+gates, and you are certainly waiting at the gang-plank a full fifteen
+minutes before the appointed time.
+
+But those who are no longer novices to the mysterious calculation of
+those who regulate our army traffic, would, on receiving such
+instruction, immediately repair to the best hotel, there to regale
+themselves in a glorified afternoon tea, and afterwards seat
+themselves in the front row at the local Empire; subsequently rolling
+up at the ship's side shortly after 9 o'clock, to find that the
+troop-ship is not due to sail for another hour at least.
+
+Having enjoyed all the pleasure of such disregard to orders, and
+arriving in due course at the ship's side, I searched around for my
+baggage and for means of getting it on board. I had not far to look,
+for there were a number of soldiers standing about, whose evident duty
+it was to do the necessary fatigue work.
+
+I call them soldiers because they were dressed in khaki; but the
+King's uniform could not disguise the fact that they were the old-time
+dock porters. There is something about the earnest, anxious look of
+the dock porter, as he tenders you his services, which even the
+martial cut of a military uniform cannot hide. His adopted profession
+in peace, inscribed so deeply in his face and bearing, cannot be
+hidden so easily by the curtain of war.
+
+A lance corporal approached me, and, assuring me that nothing would go
+astray that was left in his charge, slung my kit over his shoulder
+with professional skill and followed me up the gang-plank, placing my
+belongings carefully down in what may once have been the cabin of the
+ship. He crossed his legs, leaned heavily with one arm on my baggage,
+and tipping his cap on the back of his head to enable me to see the
+exact amount of perspiration upon his forehead, and breathing heavily,
+so that I might form an exact estimate of the fatigue he had
+undergone, he waited in hopeful expectancy.
+
+I gave him a tip.
+
+It is against all regulations to tip a soldier; but it seemed such a
+natural thing to do, for his khaki uniform could not hide the habit of
+years.
+
+He did not salute, but touched his cap. I smiled to myself as I
+watched him depart. He was a soldier now; but the uniform could not
+disguise the fact that he was still a dock porter.
+
+We had a splendid crossing, and I shall not readily forget the
+romantic atmosphere of that night.
+
+The sea was calm, and a full moon cast a silvery, shimmering pathway
+across the water.
+
+All lights on board the troop-ship were extinguished, and with black
+smoke belching from the funnels, and the vibrations of the engines
+trembling through the ship, we made our dash across the Channel.
+
+Who but those whose duty it is to perform the arduous task of
+protecting our troop-ships can understand and appreciate what it means
+to live the life of the sailor on those comfortless-looking
+destroyers.
+
+Night after night, week after week, throughout the years, tearing
+frantically up and down, seeking a hidden foe; daring the treacherous
+mines; safeguarding their trust with apparent disregard for their own
+safety.
+
+The men who perform such duties are hidden heroes; and the safe
+transportation of our fighting millions across the seas is a silent
+tribute of their bravery.
+
+This work goes on, and will go on until the end of the war, and the
+men who perform this great task do so with the knowledge that only
+failure can bring their names before the public.
+
+I met many old friends on board, and several new ones. But one man in
+particular attracted my attention, for his appearance seemed so
+strangely out of place with the surroundings.
+
+Standing near the companionway, and looking upon the scene with a
+bored expression, was a young man in the thirties, in a brand-new
+uniform, with a single star on his shoulder-strap, which proclaimed
+him to the world as a second lieutenant.
+
+He was rather tubby in appearance, with a round, chubby face, which
+was screwed up in a frantic effort to retain within its grasp a
+monocle, through which he viewed his fellow beings in mute
+astonishment; and what is more, he wore new kid gloves. It was
+Septimus D'Arcy, dressed in immaculate neatness, radiating the
+atmosphere of Bond Street; indifferent to everybody, yet with a
+horrified look of discomfort at finding himself in such unusual
+surroundings.
+
+I had hardly turned from the strange scene when Collins caught hold of
+my arm.
+
+"Come over here; I want to introduce you to a friend of mine, who, I
+believe, is coming out to be attached to us," he said.
+
+We walked along the deck, and, to my embarrassment, a few moments
+later I found myself shaking the limp paw of Septimus D'Arcy, glove
+and all.
+
+I am not quite sure that Septimus, on my introduction, did anything
+more than open his mouth, while I raised and lowered his right
+forearm. Septimus would have spoken, I am quite sure, as the movement
+of his mouth indicated that such was his intention; although the
+expression, or rather lack of expression, on his face, bore no proof
+that his remarks, if uttered, would be very interesting. In fact,
+Septimus needed encouragement.
+
+"We are having a very pleasant crossing," I ventured.
+
+"Ye-s," he drawled, "but a demned overcrowded one--what?"
+
+"I suppose so, but troop-ships are always overcrowded."
+
+"I say, though, where does one sleep?"
+
+I rather suspected that what Septimus really wanted to know was
+whether there was such a thing to be had as a private cabin, where he
+could disrobe his tubby figure in seclusion.
+
+"There seems to be two places to sleep," I replied; "either in the
+boiler-room or on deck."
+
+"On deck! Rather uncomfortable--what?"
+
+"Well not nearly so uncomfortable as it may be later. I am just going
+down to get my kit and lay it out on deck," I said. "Hadn't you better
+get yours, too?"
+
+I went down below, leaving Septimus with his mouth still open, and his
+round nose wrinkled up with an expression of discomfort. But he made
+no move to accept my invitation.
+
+I unrolled my kit on the deck by the side of a long row of officers
+who were already comfortably settled for the night. On either side of
+each officer were his war kit and a life-belt.
+
+I got into my sleeping-bag, and not feeling very sleepy, I lit a
+cigarette and looked upon my surroundings.
+
+The scene was a very inspiring one, and I could not help dreaming of
+the future. What had destiny in store for us? Who would return in
+glory? And who would be called upon to pay the great price--to come
+back bleeding and disabled, dependent for future existence upon the
+benevolence of a nation's gratitude?
+
+The ship sped onward, carrying its human freight. Greater and greater
+grew the distance from loved ones left behind. Nearer and nearer we
+sped towards the unknown future.
+
+How many of those lying around, silent companions of their thoughts,
+were thinking the same as I?
+
+What was the future? Horror, anxiety, success, failure, mutilation,
+death; which was it to be? And what a change this was to the times we
+had had in the past.
+
+We were all civilian soldiers: lawyers, merchants, bankers, and
+tradesmen. Fighting was not our profession nor desire.
+
+Whose power was it to transform these lives so ruthlessly from the
+habits of peace to become instruments of war? Whose was the hand which
+plucked us from homes and families, to hurl us into the caldron of
+hell? Was it the ambition of a nation, guided by the despotic
+direction of a tyrant?
+
+We knew it and believed it. We could not remain idle to see our homes
+and families suffering the destruction and barbarities inflicted on
+Belgium. The fire of hell blazed by the petrol of German fury must not
+be wafted in the direction of our beloved country.
+
+The call had been answered, and these silent forms of England's sons
+were speeding through the night in the direction of danger, at the
+bidding of a nation in peril.
+
+My cigarette was finished, and I was becoming sleepy. I turned over to
+settle myself comfortably, and turning my eyes in the direction of the
+companionway, I saw the tubby figure of an officer standing near the
+rail, immaculately dressed, and in strange contrast to his
+surroundings.
+
+It was Septimus D'Arcy, immaculate and indifferent. Septimus was at
+war; but Septimus was still in Bond Street.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER V
+
+GOING UP THE LINE
+
+PERFIDIOUS GANG-PLANKS. D'ARCY STRANDED. GUIDES WHO CANNOT GUIDE. A
+HEATED ARGUMENT
+
+
+Next morning we were disturbed early, and rolled up our kits ready for
+disembarkation.
+
+About 7 A.M. we pulled alongside the wharf, and a light-hearted,
+jostling crowd struggled for the gang-plank.
+
+I have not yet been able to find out why gang-planks are made so
+narrow, so that only one person at a time dare undertake the passage.
+
+Chaos seemed to prevail. The deck suddenly became a struggling mass of
+humanity, struggling, tugging, and dragging at valises and kit bags.
+
+Officers were manfully shouldering their "marching order," and
+struggling with their valises, hoping that their turn would come to
+find a footing on the gang-plank.
+
+The gang-plank was long and narrow, bending and squeaking under its
+burden. There were two gang-planks: one to go down and one to come
+up.
+
+But we were not sailors, and did not know the system; the inevitable
+result being that those going up met those coming down, until they
+became an unwieldy medley of men, baggage, protests, and apologies.
+
+Gang-planks at the best of times appear structures of absurdity. They
+either appear to be placed at an angle so dangerous that the only safe
+way of getting ashore appears to be to sit down and slide. At other
+times the gang-plank has an unhappy knack of sagging in a precarious
+manner as you approach the middle, while a couple of sailors hold
+desperately on to the end to prevent its slipping off the dock.
+
+Here we reported to the landing officer, who was making frantic
+endeavours to create order from chaos.
+
+In circumstances of this kind the best thing to do with the landing
+officer is to keep clear of him. So we seized the only hack available
+and drove to one of the leading hotels, which had the reputation of
+being popular.
+
+I am not quite sure if these conveyances are called hacks, but the
+name seems very appropriate; for carriage seems too dignified a term
+for such dilapidated vehicles.
+
+We were, however, too glad to get away as rapidly as possible from the
+dusty deck, and it was already getting very hot.
+
+Turning into one of the side streets, we beheld the immortal Septimus,
+looking like one who is hopelessly lost in the middle of the Sahara
+Desert.
+
+Now Septimus was not a born soldier, and he had made no attempt to
+carry his equipment on his back; neither would it seem right for
+Septimus to carry any greater burden on his podgy form than his
+well-polished Sam Brown. So his equipment lay on the pavement beside
+him. He had evidently dragged it some little distance, and looked upon
+it as a beastly nuisance, and was standing there vainly hoping that a
+taxi would come to his rescue and help him carry the beastly thing
+away.
+
+We gave Septimus a lift, as he evidently needed looking after.
+
+Arriving at the hotel, we all tumbled into the dining-room for
+breakfast, all except Septimus D'Arcy, who made straight for the
+nearest bar, and was last heard of that day tapping a coin vigorously
+on the counter, and with the perspiration standing in beads on his
+nose, frantically screeching for a whisky and soda.
+
+Two days later I received a slip of paper which warned me that I was
+to proceed up the line that evening.
+
+I was a senior officer, and would have charge of all the troops
+departing that evening. If you have never had that job, take my tip
+and avoid it; for of all the thankless tasks the poor devil who
+suddenly finds himself O.C. train, has the most difficult one of all.
+
+I reported to the camp adjutant, an awfully decent sort of chap, and
+as a farewell gift he placed in my hands a pile of documents and
+several sheets of printed instructions.
+
+"There you are, old chap, you will find everything there."
+
+"Why, what is all this about?" said I, holding on to the mysterious
+bundle of papers which he thrust into my hands.
+
+"That is a complete record, in duplicate, of all the troops in your
+charge. When you get to the station hand those papers over to the
+R.T.O."
+
+"How many men have I charge of?"
+
+"Rather a big crowd going to-night--38 officers and 1,140 other
+ranks."
+
+"What regiments do they belong to?"
+
+"Well, I think you have got men who belong to nearly every regiment
+serving in France. There are reinforcement draughts going to various
+units, and numerous men returning from leave. You've got English,
+Scotch, Canadians, and Australians. You've got cavalrymen,
+artillerymen, engineers, and infantrymen. Believe me, you've got your
+hands full to-night.
+
+"You will find a guide at the head of the column who knows the way to
+the station. It's a good five miles from here."
+
+When I got outside I found the column nearly a quarter of a mile long,
+formed up ready to march off.
+
+I gave the order to move to all those within reach of my voice, and
+trusted to the remainder to follow on.
+
+It was quite dark as the long column moved slowly down the long
+boulevards. I had not the faintest notion where the station was.
+Wherever I went that long, unwieldy column would slowly follow me, and
+trust blindly to my direction. I pinned my faith to the guide, and on
+we went.
+
+Before we had got half-way it became evident that the guide had a very
+remote idea which was the direction to take; and he began to make
+anxious inquiries of passers-by as to the right way.
+
+I was beginning to feel anxious and lose patience.
+
+"What are you fussing about for? Are you taking us the right way?" I
+demanded.
+
+"I think so, sir. I don't know."
+
+"You don't know! But you are the guide, aren't you?"
+
+"Yes, sir. But I've never been to the station before."
+
+"But you are supposed to be the guide. Do you mean to tell me that you
+are not sure of the way?"
+
+"Not quite, sir. But I am doing my best."
+
+"Well, you are a fine sort of guide! Who detailed you?"
+
+"The adjutant, sir."
+
+"Well, did he know you had never been down to the station before?"
+
+"He never asked me, sir. I was not doing any other duty, so he
+detailed me to act as your guide."
+
+What staff work! But it served me right; and we muddled along, and
+finally, to my great relief, we entered the station yard.
+
+I walked into the R.T.O.'s office and laid my pile of papers on his
+desk.
+
+The railway transport officer is an individual who is prominent in the
+memory of all those who have passed up the line; and many of us have
+reason to remember at least one of them with indignation.
+
+There are two kinds of R.T.O.'s, and you have met them both.
+
+There is the one who has earned his job at the front by hard work. He
+has been through the thick of the fighting, and after months in the
+trenches has been sent back to act as R.T.O. at the rail-head or the
+base, to give him a well-earned rest beyond the sound of the guns. We
+have no unpleasant memories of him. He is a man; he is human; he
+treats you as a comrade; he is helpful and considerate. And you can
+spot such men in a moment.
+
+But R.T.O. No. 2 carries no sign of war on his features. He has never
+heard the sound of guns, and never intends to, if he can help it.
+
+Look back upon the time when you left the base, and you find him
+prominent in your memory. When you are huddled up in your dugout, how
+you wish he could be transferred to you for a tour of duty in the
+trenches.
+
+What a delight it would be to send him in his immaculate uniform; his
+highly polished leggings and boots, along the muddy communication
+trenches. You know what the feeling is, for oftentimes you have said
+to yourself in those lonely night-watches: "How I wish I had him
+here!"
+
+It is 2 o'clock in the morning; the rain is coming down in torrents;
+danger lurks in every fire-bay; the loneliness and the weirdness give
+you the creeps.
+
+How you wish you could wake him up by digging him in the ribs, and
+telling him that it is time to go on his tour of duty up and down
+those clay-sodden trenches at the hour of the night when his courage
+(if he ever had any) would be at its lowest.
+
+What a delight it would be if we only had him with us when we take
+over our trenches, to show him that foul-smelling, rat-ridden dugout,
+and tell him to curl himself up to sleep there.
+
+How sweet would be the joy to see him in his pale-coloured breeches,
+huddled up in a saphead, trying to get a little comfort on a cold, raw
+December morning, from a drop of tea in a tin mug, well smudged with
+the wet clay of numerous fingers.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VI
+
+RATIONS
+
+I LEARN TO HATE FOOD. MATHEMATICAL PROBLEMS
+
+
+We arrived at Rouen at 7.30 the following morning. I had to report to
+the R.T.O. by 9.30, and in the meantime 3,534 rations had to be cut up
+and distributed on the station platform among 1,178 officers and men.
+
+Have you ever had such a problem as that? If not, then avoid it, if it
+ever comes your way.
+
+The train was about twice the length of the platform, so on arrival it
+was broken in half, and the rear half shunted on to another line.
+
+The rations were contained in two trucks, attached to the rear half of
+the train, so the contents had to be carried by hand across several
+sets of rails, to the end of the platform.
+
+I had a fatigue party of 60 men at work, and presently a huge quantity
+of provisions began to pile up. There were chests of tea, cases of
+biscuits, cases of jam, cases of bully beef, sugar, and bacon
+sufficient to fill the warehouse of a wholesale provision merchant.
+
+Three days' rations for 1,178 officers and men, in bulk; and 1,178
+officers and men began to gather around the stack, in hungry
+expectancy of breakfast.
+
+Now to issue rations to a battalion straight from bulk is quite
+difficult enough, but to issue rations from bulk to units of various
+strengths, belonging to over fifty regiments is enough to drive any
+one crazy.
+
+Each man was entitled to two and one-fourth ounces of tea, one-fourth
+ounce of mustard, two and one-fourth pounds of biscuits, three-fourths
+pound of cheese, twelve ounces of bacon, one tin of bully beef, nine
+ounces of jam.
+
+Each unit had to be dealt with separately, so that each unit presented
+a mathematical problem of the most perplexing kind. Each unit sent up
+its fatigue party to draw rations, whilst I and several officers who
+had volunteered to assist me made a bold attempt at distribution.
+
+"Come along, first man, what's your regiment?"
+
+"Manchester, sir; 59 men."
+
+I looked through my volume of papers to check his figures.
+
+"Quite right! Fifty-nine men."
+
+Fifty-nine men meant fifty-nine times two and one-fourth ounces of
+tea, one-fourth ounce of mustard, two and one-fourth pounds of
+biscuits, three-fourths pound of cheese, twelve ounces of bacon, one
+tin of bully beef, and nine ounces of jam. My brain whirls when I
+think of those problems.
+
+The next unit consisted of 9 men; the next of 1; then came a long list
+of 2's, 5's, and 7's, and so on; and in each case the mathematical
+problem had to be worked out; and when the figuring was finished, the
+stuff had to be cut up.
+
+Seventy-nine pounds of cheese for the Manchesters; does any one know
+what seventy-nine pounds of cheese looks like? No one did; we had
+never seen so much cheese before in our lives.
+
+"Give him a whole cheese and chance it. And now tea; the Manchesters
+want one hundred and thirty-two and three-fourths ounces of tea. Give
+him about three handfuls and chance it."
+
+The next party consisted of 2 men.
+
+"Six ounces of jam for the 19 Canadians; how much is that?"
+
+"Nearly half a pot."
+
+"What are you going to put it in?"
+
+"Got nothing."
+
+"Can't have any, then?"
+
+"Come on, next man."
+
+When I saw the last of that stack of food it was 11.30. We were hungry
+and tired, and we made our way to the nearest hotel, fervently hoping
+that we might never see food in bulk again.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VII
+
+ST. AMAND
+
+I REPORT AT HEADQUARTERS. THE PROBLEM OF VENTILATION
+
+
+We made our way back to the station and secured a very luxurious
+compartment; and to my intense relief on this occasion I found there
+was an officer senior to me present, who succeeded to the duties of
+O.C. train.
+
+The duties of O.C. train are a new sensation to most officers; and it
+is particularly difficult to know just what to do, and how to do it,
+when you have an unorganised body of men made up of sundries from
+every part of the British army.
+
+Our new O.C. train evidently felt the difficulties of his position,
+and came to me for assistance.
+
+"Excuse me," he said, "but were you in charge of the train last
+night?"
+
+"Yes, sir. I'm sorry to say I was."
+
+"Well, what does one have to do?"
+
+"Nothing."
+
+"Well, but how does one keep order?"
+
+"One doesn't keep order. But they've given me a pile of printed
+instructions, and I don't see how they can possibly be carried out.
+How can I keep order in a train half a mile long with men I know
+nothing about?"
+
+He was getting worried. I knew the feeling.
+
+"Do you want a tip," I said.
+
+"Yes, if you can give me one."
+
+"Well, just walk along the train until you find a very comfortable
+compartment marked, 'O.C. train.' Get inside, lock the door, pull down
+the blinds and go to sleep."
+
+"Thanks, awfully. I think I'll take that tip."
+
+"By the way," I shouted after him, "what is our destination?"
+
+"Haven't the faintest idea."
+
+"Does anybody know?"
+
+"I don't think so."
+
+"Thanks, awfully."
+
+The train journey was uneventful, save for alternatively eating and
+sleeping, and two days later I reported at battalion headquarters.
+
+The battalion was in rest billets at St. Amand; and I was posted as
+second in command to B Company.
+
+The officers of B Company were just about to begin their midday meal
+when I put in an appearance at the company mess.
+
+Captain George commanded the company. He was a splendid type of the
+fighting man of the present day--young, active, and clear-cut, boyish,
+yet serious. Captain George was made of the right stuff, and we became
+chums on the spot.
+
+The other officers of the company were Second Lieutenant Farman, who
+had just received his commission in the field, Second Lieutenant
+Chislehirst, and Second Lieutenant Day.
+
+They were all splendid fellows, the type you meet and take to at once;
+all as keen as ginger when there is serious work to be done; and when
+work is over are as light-hearted as schoolboys.
+
+The mess consisted of a dilapidated kitchen, with a stone floor, and
+ventilated by the simple method of broken windows and a door removed
+from the hinges.
+
+In those northern farmhouses of France it is purely a matter of
+opinion as to whether ventilation is really an advantage; for from the
+yard in front of the house the odour from the refuse and manure of
+the farm, piled up in a heap outside your window, becomes very acute
+when the wind is in the wrong direction, as it usually is.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER VIII
+
+EARLY IMPRESSIONS
+
+BILLETS. A STARTLING INCIDENT. REST CAMP
+
+
+I shall never forget the day I made my first inspection of billets.
+
+While walking through the village street I noticed a structure which
+appeared to be inviting some stray breath of wind to cause it to
+surrender its last resistance by collapsing into a heap of rubbish.
+
+Many years ago, in days of prosperity, it had served the purpose of a
+covering for cattle, for I believe cattle are not very particular in
+northern France.
+
+It is quite within reason to suppose that, with a view of misleading
+his cattle into a false sense of security, the farmer may have called
+it a barn. It had never been an expensive structure, nor did it give
+any evidence of having ever laid claim to architectural beauty.
+
+But its simplicity of construction was a marvel of ingenuity. Yes, it
+was a barn, but who but a genius of modern arts would have thought it
+possible to build even a barn by the simple but equally economical
+method of erecting a number of props and simply sticking mud between?
+
+But the stability of the barn was, as might reasonably be supposed,
+subject to "wind and weather permitting," and was now sorrowfully
+deploring its advancing years, and anxiously waiting an early
+opportunity to rest its weary limbs in a well-earned rest in a
+shapeless heap on the ground that gave it birth.
+
+How very strange! Out of the numerous holes in the wall I saw familiar
+faces, while inside a score of men were laughing and joking, playing
+cards or lounging about in loose attire, as though they were enjoying
+the freedom and comfort of a West End club.
+
+"But what are you men doing here?" I asked.
+
+"This is our billet, sir," answered a lance corporal.
+
+"Your billet? Do you mean you sleep here?"
+
+"Yes, sir, this was allotted to half my platoon."
+
+"Comfortable?"
+
+"Yes, sir. Quite a treat after the trenches."
+
+"A bit draughty, isn't it?"
+
+"Yes, sir; but, like everything else, we have to get used to it."
+
+"But can't you find a better place than this, and with more room? You
+seem to be almost on top of each other."
+
+"There is no other place available. The men are quite satisfied, sir."
+
+I turned away thoughtfully. What magnificent chaps! And yet, when they
+were in comfortable billets at Haywards Heath, or in well-built huts
+at Fovant, they were far more particular; when they were recruits and
+spent their first night in the army, they looked with dismay at the
+prospect of sleeping on a clean straw mattress in a well-built modern
+English house.
+
+War makes men, and hardships breed content!
+
+I will pass over our life in the trenches in this part of the line,
+but an incident worth recording occurred while we were marching back
+after five days amongst the rats and mud of the trenches facing
+Gommecourt Wood.
+
+It is interesting, by the way, to watch the men leaving the trenches
+for their rest billets, for, in addition to their packs, they carry
+many an additional article of private belongings to add to their
+comfort during these tedious days of duty, and they emerge with all
+kinds of curious packages and extra articles of clothing strapped or
+tied to their equipment. They were covered with mud and clay before
+they left the front-line trenches, but the long journey along endless
+communication trenches on their way out, gathered up an additional
+covering of clay and mud through their bulky attire, until they
+resembled a curious assembly of moving débris.
+
+But the incident I have referred to occurred just as we were
+approaching a village.
+
+An observation balloon was being drawn down, but when within a hundred
+feet of the ground suddenly broke away and began to rise rapidly and
+drift towards the German lines.
+
+I halted the men, and we watched in breathless suspense the tragedy
+which was about to take place before our eyes. There was some one in
+the basket of the balloon.
+
+It rose higher and higher. Nothing could save it! Presently the
+occupant was seen to lean over the side and throw out a quantity of
+books and papers.
+
+Still upward it went, and seemed to reach a great height before the
+next sensation caused us to thrill with amazement.
+
+Something dropped like a stone from the basket and then, with a sudden
+check, a parachute opened, and a man was seen dangling from it. When
+he dropped, the balloon must have been many thousand feet in the air,
+and both balloon and parachute continued to drift towards the German
+lines.
+
+Then a flight of four or five British aeroplanes went up and soared
+around the balloon, evidently bent on its destruction.
+
+As we watched we saw a flash and a puff of smoke! A bomb had struck
+the balloon, but seemed to have no effect.
+
+The aeroplanes withdrew, and a minute later we heard the boom of the
+anti-aircraft guns.
+
+The second shot was a dead hit, for we saw a flash of fire clean
+through the centre, a volume of blue smoke, and then it buckled in the
+middle. The flame spread, and the blue smoke increased in volume until
+the balloon resembled a curious shapeless mass, twisting and turning
+and shrinking as it quivered and fell to earth; meantime, anxious
+eyes were also turned to the parachute, which by this time had
+approached to within a few hundred feet or so of the earth.
+
+Both armies must have watched the spectacle in silent wonder, for no
+shot was fired at the falling figure from the German lines.
+
+It was difficult to tell from where we were just where it might fall.
+It seemed to me from where I stood that the odds were in favour of it
+reaching the ground in No Man's Land.
+
+As it neared the earth it began to sway to and fro, in ever-increasing
+violence, and finally disappeared from view behind a clump of trees.
+So far as I could observe, it did not seem in any way possible for the
+parachute to have delivered its human freight safely to the earth.
+
+Next day we began a three days' march to a village some thirty-eight
+miles back of the line.
+
+We were to be rested and fattened for the Somme.
+
+The mention of rest camps to men at the front generally raises a
+smile, for if there is one thing more noticeable than anything else
+during a rest period, it is the hard work which has to be done.
+
+The long days of training, the unlimited fatigue work, and the
+never-ending cleaning of tattered uniforms and trench-soiled boots are
+equalled only by the fastidiousness of an Aldershot parade.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER IX
+
+DEPARTURE FOR THE SOMME
+
+CORBIE. HAPPY VALLEY. PASSING THROUGH THE GUNS
+
+
+On Sunday, September 2, our so-called rest came to an abrupt finish,
+and we entrained for an unknown destination. Destinations are always a
+mystery until the train pulls up with a jerk, and peremptory orders
+are given to get out.
+
+The difference in travelling as a civilian and travelling as a soldier
+is that in the former case you choose your time of departure or
+arrival at a convenient hour; while in the latter case the most
+unearthly hour is selected for you.
+
+We arrived at Corbie at 2 A.M. Not that we knew it was Corbie at the
+time, or cared; and even if we had known, we should have been little
+the wiser. Still, I will say this about Corbie, that it is pronounced
+in the way it is spelled, and that relieves one of a sense of
+uneasiness. For, as a general rule, no matter how you pronounce the
+names of a French town, you will find some one with an air of superior
+knowledge, or gifted with a special twist of the tongue, who will find
+a new pronunciation.
+
+However, we detrained onto the line. The night was as black as pitch.
+Sleepy soldiers, struggling with their equipments, dropped out of the
+carriages; and after a great deal of shouting we got into some kind of
+formation, and the long column slowly moved off into the night.
+
+I dropped into position in the rear of the column, feeling very tired,
+and wondering where I should find a place to sleep. The long column
+wended its way through narrow streets and along cobbled roads, and
+gradually seemed to melt into mysterious doorways under the guiding
+influence of quartermaster sergeants.
+
+This process went on until I suddenly realised that the whole column
+had disappeared, and I was left alone in the streets of Corbie at 3
+A.M. in a steady downpour of rain, without the faintest notion of
+where I was, or where my billet was. I walked a little farther down
+the street, and being very tired, wet, and sleepy, had almost decided
+to lie in the street until the morning, when I tumbled across Farman,
+Chislehirst, and Day following the faithful quartermaster-sergeant to
+an unknown billet.
+
+The billet consisted of a bathroom in one of the outbuildings of a
+large estate. The door of the bathroom had been locked, and the water
+had been turned off. However, we scrambled through the window. The
+floor was hard, but we had a roof above our heads, and we were all
+soon snoring on the floor, fast asleep.
+
+Next morning I took a walk around the estate and found myself in a
+lovely orchard. It was deserted. An abundance of most delicious fruit
+met my gaze wherever I went. I wandered up and down, picking the
+apples and the pears, biting the fruit and throwing it away. I felt
+like a bad boy in an orchard; but the orchard was deserted and the
+fruit was going to waste; so if I was looting, I consoled myself with
+the thought that I was preventing waste.
+
+It was about 1.30 in the afternoon, and I had just settled myself down
+in a comfortable seat under an apple-tree, and had pulled a Sunday
+newspaper out of my pocket; it was a hot September day, and I was
+feeling lazy.
+
+I was bound for the Somme. There was a mysterious air about the place
+that seemed unnatural. These beautiful gardens were deserted, but the
+sound of the guns could be heard in the distance.
+
+I had settled myself comfortably, trying to imagine with the aid of
+the Sunday paper and a cigar that I was really sitting in my own
+gardens, when I noticed a man filling his water-bottle.
+
+"What are you filling your water-bottle for?" I asked.
+
+"We have got orders to parade at 2 o'clock, to move off."
+
+"Good Lord! Who told you that?"
+
+"Captain Wilkie, sir. The orders have just come down."
+
+I never had such a scramble in my life. With an appetite oversatisfied
+with apples; my kit spread all over the floor; my company half a mile
+away in all sorts of holes and corners--to move out of the village in
+twenty minutes.
+
+It's the same old thing in the army; you say to yourself it can't be
+done; but it is done. And at five minutes past two the whole brigade
+was moving out of Corbie, and was once more facing towards the Somme.
+
+Our destination was in Death Valley; but before going into the line we
+rested a few days in Happy Valley. Happy Valley and Death
+Valley--there is a touch of sarcasm about the names, but they are,
+nevertheless, very appropriate.
+
+Happy Valley is a peaceful spot where we would sit contentedly in the
+afternoon puffing at our pipes, listening to the sound of the guns;
+watching the shrapnel bursting in the air some two or three miles
+away, and thanking our lucky stars that we were watching it from a
+distance. But we were resting. It was a lull before the storm, and we
+were soon to march towards the storm.
+
+Death Valley was three miles away, and to-morrow the storm would break
+upon us! We were thinking; men everywhere were writing. Why were they
+biting their pencils and thinking so hard? The padre was a busy man.
+Everything was so quiet and mysterious: there was no joking, no
+laughing, men were thoughtful and pulled hard at their pipes.
+To-morrow the storm would break! To-morrow! And what after?
+
+The following afternoon, after struggling across a sea of shell-holes,
+we arrived at Death Valley and halted by Trones Wood. Here hundreds of
+our guns of all sizes were massed, wheel to wheel, and row upon row;
+and every gun was being worked as hard as possible.
+
+A bombardment was taking place. And in the midst of all these guns we
+were halted for two hours until our trenches could be located. The
+sight was wonderful. It was impressive. The might of Britain was
+massed and belching forth its concentrated fury.
+
+As darkness came on the roar of the guns was accentuated by the flash
+of the discharge. We did not speak, for speaking was out of the
+question; the noise was too terrific; and we lay on the ground
+silenced by wonder and bewilderment.
+
+What was happening over yonder where those shells were dropping? What
+was that droning, whistling noise far overhead? They were the big
+guns: the 15-inch, five miles back; 16-pounders, 4·9-inch, 6-inch,
+9-inch, 12-inch, and 15-inch. Guns here, guns there, guns everywhere;
+all belching and flashing; all concentrating in a stupendous effort
+to pound some part of the German line into confusion.
+
+Ammunitions workers in England, and those who should be munition
+workers, come right over here; creep with us along the edge of Trones
+Wood, and watch this amazing sight. You miners, you tramway men, you
+boiler-makers! You, who would throw down your tools and strike, look
+upon this sight!
+
+This is the voice of England. This is the stupendous effort which is
+protecting you. On your right, that dark, creepy, silent place, is
+Trones Wood. Look across to your left, those sticks showing on the
+sky-line, across the valley. In those woods, churned up in the soil,
+lie the rotting bodies of your comrades, your brothers, your sons.
+They have sacrificed all; they have suffered untold deaths.
+
+The contrast between that thundering voice of England and the silent
+mystery of those woods causes a shudder. Bring out those strikers and
+let them get a glimpse of this and realise their danger, and the
+horrors which will come upon them, their wives, their children, their
+homes, if those guns fail.
+
+What is their quarrel to this? Shall we stop those guns for a penny an
+hour? Shall we leave unprotected those desperate men across the
+valley, who are hanging on tooth and nail to those last trenches
+gained? Shall we do these things for a penny an hour? Shall we do
+these things so that we can stand up for these so-called rights in
+England?
+
+No! Our mines must be worked; our boilers must be made; and our
+munition machinery must be run to its utmost capacity, or we are
+traitors to those guns and our fighting men; our brothers, our own
+sons, who are depending upon the might of England for victory and
+their lives.
+
+Throw down your tools, slacken your machinery, and High Wood and
+Trones Wood will become blacker still with the mutilated bodies of a
+thousand men. A penny an hour! You, who are being coddled under the
+protection of these guns, what is your quarrel to this?
+
+If those desperate fellows on the other side of the hill were to leave
+their tasks, they would be called traitors. Yet, when men in England,
+whom these fighters are dependent upon, and whose work is just as
+necessary for the success of the war, throw down their tools, they
+are only called strikers.
+
+The crime is the same; the punishment should be the same.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER X
+
+ARRIVAL ON THE SOMME
+
+FEEDING THE GUNS. SEPTIMUS D'ARCY ARRIVES. A CURIOUS KIT
+
+
+Late that evening orders came to move into the trenches on the far
+slope of the Valley of Death. Trenches here, trenches there, trenches
+everywhere, while we groped around without knowing where the trenches
+led to, or the position of the German lines.
+
+We spent an anxious night, the uncertainty of our position and mystery
+of those massed guns, thundering their wrath into the darkness of the
+night, caused a tension which defied any desire to sleep.
+
+What was the meaning of it all? What was happening over yonder, where
+the iron of England's anger was falling, bursting, tearing, killing?
+What was happening over there? Would we receive a similar reply? The
+signs were significant: we were at last on the Somme; we were in for
+it with a vengeance.
+
+The next morning broke bright and fair, and found us still awake with
+eyes peering anxiously through the rising mist. We were evidently not
+in the front line, but were there on the Somme; and that sea of
+shell-holes which everywhere surrounded us told its own story of what
+had been, and what was yet to be.
+
+At about 11 o'clock all eyes were turned towards High Wood, on the
+crest of the hill to the left. A burst of shells from the enemy's guns
+told that a target had been found. We watched, and presently we could
+faintly see a column slowly moving along the road through the wood.
+
+Three ammunition wagons moved slowly towards our guns. Crash! A 5.9
+fell in front of the leading horses; a cloud of dense, black smoke
+arose and blotted the picture from view. The smoke cleared, and the
+little column was still moving slowly forward, undisturbed and
+indifferent. Crash! Crash! Two more shells burst by the side of the
+second wagon; the smoke cleared; the horses were startled and giving
+trouble, but once again the defiant little column moved slowly
+forward, indifferent and undismayed.
+
+We continued to watch the plucky little column, now obscured by the
+black smoke of the bursting shells, then again emerging from the
+smoke, heedless of danger.
+
+Those men were human. How could they stand it with such calm and
+determined indifference? The answer was the guns: the guns must be
+fed; and British grit and discipline were unconquerable. The army is
+wonderful.
+
+At this moment I received a message calling me to headquarters, and I
+at once went to find my C.O.
+
+"Well, had a good rest?" he asked.
+
+"Not much, sir."
+
+"Stuff and nonsense; get your map out."
+
+I spread my map out on my knees and took a note-book out of my pocket.
+
+The C.O. pointed on the map with his pencil:
+
+"We are here; the ---- Regiment is there."
+
+"Front line, sir?"
+
+"Right bang up in the front line."
+
+"What are the trenches like, sir?"
+
+"No time to dig trenches; they're hanging on to a few shell-holes,
+though they may have connected them up by now. See, there's Combles,
+and that's Leuze Wood. We shall be on the extreme right of the British
+army. B Company will be on the right; C Company in the centre, and A
+Company on the left with D Company in support. Headquarters will be
+close by Falfemont Farm."
+
+"Very good, sir."
+
+"You won't find any farm left; been blown to dust. Men are to go in
+battle order; packs are to be parked just outside here, by companies.
+No. 5 platoon will move off at 7 P.M., the remainder following in
+succession at fifty yards' interval."
+
+I understood, and turned to go.
+
+"By the way, I am not sure whether the Germans are in that trench or
+the ---- Battalion, London Regiment. Anyhow, that's where we've got to
+be to-night."
+
+Half an hour later and the men were laying out their packs in long
+rows, by companies. Strange sight, all these packs laid out in neat
+rows. The reason did not need explaining. There was work at the other
+end of that Valley of Death; there lay the pit of the Great Adventure.
+Perhaps to-night we should look into it; but how many would come back
+to claim their packs.
+
+We are in the soup with a vengeance! Well, who cares?
+
+Early that afternoon I went to my dugout, and was just trying to get a
+little rest, when I was disturbed by a voice outside, which sounded
+strangely familiar.
+
+"Sergeant, excuse me, but is this the beastly hole where B Company is
+to be found?"
+
+"Yes, sir, this is B Company's line."
+
+"'Pon me word, extraordinary place! Demned hot; walked nearly five
+miles. Where's the captain?"
+
+"In his dugout, sir, near that shell-hole."
+
+"I've got to report to him; will you tell him I'm here?"
+
+"Hadn't you better go to him, sir?"
+
+"Oh! Is that the thing to do?"
+
+At that moment, unable to restrain my curiosity, I came out of my
+dugout, and there, sure enough, was none other than the irresistible
+pattern of Bond Street, Septimus D'Arcy, by all that was wonderful!
+
+There he was, with his monocle riveted in his right eye, between the
+frown of his eyebrow and the chubby fatness of his cheek, with the
+bored expression of one who saw no reason for the necessity of the
+fatigue which caused the undignified beads of perspiration to assemble
+on an otherwise unruffled countenance. A pair of kid gloves, buttoned
+together, were hanging from the belt of his Sam Brown, and four inches
+of a blue-bordered silk handkerchief dangled from his sleeve. As he
+approached he half carried on his arm and half dragged along the
+ground, the burden that was known as his full marching order.
+
+"Hello, Septimus!" I said, as he came along, dragging his things
+behind him.
+
+"Ah! Hellow! Well, I'm demned! Never expected to find you here;
+awfully glad to meet you again."
+
+"What are you doing here?"
+
+"I'll be demned if I know! Uninteresting spot this--what?"
+
+"Well, what have you come here for?"
+
+"Nothing much. I saw a fellow in that big dugout in the valley, and he
+told me to report to you. The fact is, you know, you are attached to
+me, or I'm attached to you, or something of that sort."
+
+"Well, you are not in Havre now; there are snipers about, and if you
+stand up there like that, you'll get hit."
+
+"You don't mean to say so; that seems perfectly safe."
+
+"Well, get down, and don't be a fool."
+
+He carefully got down into the trench, leaving his equipment behind,
+probably hoping it would get lost, and we entered the dugout.
+
+"I must tell you, captain, I am horribly fatigued. I came through the
+guns; very interesting and all that, but it's made my head ache."
+
+"Have some water. It's rather muddy, but better than nothing these
+days."
+
+"No, thanks; doctor warned me against drinking dirty water; dysentery
+and all that, don't you know. Any whisky and soda?"
+
+"Look here, Septimus, now you are here, you must drop that nonsense."
+
+"All right, old thing. I rather doubted the soda, but thank Heaven
+I've got a flask; a sort of emergency ration. Help yourself and let's
+drink it neat."
+
+"How long have you been in the army, Septimus?"
+
+"Three months. Why?"
+
+"Like it?"
+
+"Not bad. Saluting seems rather absurd; but it seems to please some. I
+longed to come out; thought it would be interesting and all that sort
+of thing. But so far I've had nothing to do but get from place to
+place, carrying a beastly load with me."
+
+"Probably your own fault. I have never seen a pack or haversack
+crammed so full. What have you brought with you?"
+
+"Necessaries; but not half what I shall need. Has my kit arrived?"
+
+"My dear chap, you will never see your kit up here; and what is more,
+you will have to leave most of those things you have brought with you
+behind, before you go up the front line. Dump your things out here,
+and I will tell you what to take."
+
+We emptied his pack and haversack. I have never in all my life seen
+such a lot of rubbish in the war kit of a soldier. There seemed to be
+nothing there he would really need; but a curious mixture of strange
+articles which would fill a fancy bazaar. There were hair-brushes with
+ebony backs and silver monograms, silk handkerchiefs with fancy
+borders, a pinky tooth-paste, oozing out of a leaden tube; and crushed
+between a comb and a pair of silk socks, a large bottle of reddish
+tooth-wash, sufficient to last him three years; and half of which had
+leaked through the cork to the destruction of about a dozen silk
+handkerchiefs, spotted and bordered in fanciful shades. There was a
+box of cigars, a heavy china pot of massage-cream, a pot of
+hair-pomade, a leather writing-case, a large ivory-backed mirror,
+which had lost its usefulness for ever, a bottle of fountain-pen ink,
+two suits of silk pajamas, one striped with pink and the other blue, a
+huge bath-towel, a case containing seven razors, one for each day in
+the week, and a sponge as big as his head. Poor Septimus! in his
+simplicity and ignorance, for the first time in his life he had packed
+his own kit.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XI
+
+DEATH VALLEY
+
+MOVING OVER BATTLE-FIELDS. ---- BATTALION, LONDON REGIMENT, IN
+POSSESSION. THE MYSTERY TRENCH. FALFEMONT FARM
+
+
+The final preparations completed, the first platoon began to move off;
+other platoons followed at intervals, the column slowly wending its
+way through the Valley of Death to its mysterious destination.
+
+We seemed to be going into the unknown; the air was full of mystery;
+it was uncanny, unnatural. We were moving over battle-fields. The
+ground was a mass of shell-holes; progress could only be made by
+walking in single file along a narrow footpath, which twisted in
+tortuous persistency between the shell-holes, causing innumerable
+halts and starts, until the column tailed off into an endless line of
+shadowy figures.
+
+Here and there the men became lost to view in some gun-ridden cavity;
+whilst there again they appeared silhouetted against the moonlit sky,
+as man by man they appeared and disappeared from view over a rise in
+the ground.
+
+Those who had fallen in the desperate struggle of the previous week
+lay yet unburied. Friend and foe alike shared the shelter of the
+heavens, clutching at the soil of France in the agonies of death.
+There are times when the sight of death excuses the quivering step and
+the irrepressible sob from the hearts of those who pass onward to
+brave a similar fate.
+
+The Valley of Death was a silent tomb of the wrath of nations, that
+long, winding Valley of Death, where the bodies of friend and foe lay
+side by side, or clutched in a desperate embrace, marked the line
+where the fury of nations found its expression, like the scar of a
+devil's vengeance.
+
+As I looked on the bodies of the dead, twisted and mutilated, limbless
+and torn, some half buried in débris--here and there lying doubled in
+unnatural positions, while others yet, seemed to be clutching at some
+mortal wound--I felt like one who fearfully treads into the vortex of
+Dante's inferno. Yes, this was the devil's own hell, but a hell far
+more dreadful than I had ever imagined it to be.
+
+After a tiring, disheartening trudge, we found the spot we were to
+occupy, and, to our intense relief, the ---- Battalion, London
+Regiment, were in possession.
+
+After the usual formalities of the relieving and taking over of the
+line of shell-holes which marked the position, I stopped for a final
+word with one of the ---- officers:
+
+"How many casualties?" I asked.
+
+"About fifty in two days--bit tough, eh?"
+
+"Been attacked, then?"
+
+"No; shelled like billyho. They've got the range nicely."
+
+"Where's the Boche?"
+
+"Don't quite know; somewhere in front. About eight hundred yards away
+there's a trench which forms three sides of a square, each side about
+three hundred yards, with the open side resting on Leuze Wood, and the
+lower end extending into the wood."
+
+"Fritz there?"
+
+"In the upper part, yes; but the lower part is a bit of a mystery.
+The part that extends into the wood the ---- Regiment are holding; but
+the rest of it the Boche seems to have. At least, that's what I think.
+Awkward position! Well, cheer oh!"
+
+After a sleepless night I anxiously waited the rising mist to take a
+view of my surroundings. There, on the right, was a high table-land,
+with a frowning bluff overlooking the town of Combles, which slowly
+emerged, house by house, from the rising mist.
+
+In the trench the right man of my company was vigorously shaking the
+hand of a French soldier, who marked the left of the French army.
+
+There, straight in front, could be faintly seen the trench formed in
+the shape of a square, and left of it Leuze Wood. But what were those
+peculiar stumps to the left of our trenches? They looked like the
+remains of a copse which had been shelled until only the stumps of a
+few trees remained. And where was Falfemont Farm? There was no sign of
+it anywhere. I was not sure of my position on the map; it was
+puzzling.
+
+I went over to consult the French officer on my right:
+
+"Morning, monsieur," I said, approaching a smart young officer.
+
+"Ah! Good morning; you relieve the ---- Battalion, London Regiment,
+already--yes?"
+
+"Yes; last night. I came to ask you what those stumps are over there;
+they are not marked on the map. Do you happen to know?"
+
+"Ah! Oui; zat is Falfemont Farm. Nothing left now; very bad place that
+farm. Zay say one whole brigade of infantry was lost in storming that
+farm. Yes, nasty place, that farm, M. le Capitaine."
+
+I went back to my trench. I didn't like the look of things. If
+Falfemont Farm got blown to smithereens like that, what chance did I
+stand? Whew! I was getting the wind up.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XII
+
+OUT IN NO MAN'S LAND
+
+SUDDEN ORDERS. THE BEGINNING OF A GREAT ADVENTURE. DIGGING IN
+
+
+After a strenuous day's work, during which I had only time to take a
+mouthful of bread and cheese, which I carried in my pocket, I espied
+an orderly making his way towards me.
+
+"The C.O. sent me, sir; you're wanted at once."
+
+"Oh! any news?"
+
+"I think we are in for a binge, sir."
+
+"Which is the way to headquarters?"
+
+"About two hundred yards back. Follow that narrow little track which
+winds around the shell-holes, and you can't miss it. Don't leave the
+track, or you will lose your way."
+
+On arriving at H.Q. I found a small group of officers bending
+anxiously over a map. The C.O. turned to me as I approached:
+
+"Ah! There you are. Get your books out, and take down your
+orders--ready! You are to take command of B Company. Well, now, here's
+our position; there's Combles and there's Leuze Wood. Take your
+company out into 'No Man's Land,' and extend along a line facing half
+right to our present position, with your left resting on the wood. C
+Company will be in the wood on your left; and A Company will be on
+your right--understand?"
+
+"Yes, sir."
+
+"You'll dig in to-night, and to-morrow we are going to take that
+trench that's formed like a square, to prepare the way for a frontal
+attack on Combles by the French. You'll take the upper portion of that
+perpendicular trench, passing the wood on your left."
+
+"Then, I shall have to cross over the lower trench; isn't that
+occupied, sir?"
+
+"The battalion bombers will clear that out for you during the night."
+
+"When is zero hour, sir?"
+
+"Don't know; I've told you all I know at present. Take ten flares, and
+send up two when you arrive at your objective, and send up another two
+at 6 o'clock the following morning."
+
+"What about ammunition and water, sir?"
+
+"The water you've already got is supposed to last forty-eight hours. I
+don't know about ammunition; I think there's an ammunition dump in the
+wood, but I will find that out and let you know. All right; it's dark
+enough now."
+
+Sch!--Crash!--Zug! A 5·9 burst on the parapet a few yards away. The
+thud of an awky bit was felt in our midst, and the sergeant-major
+jumped up, holding his foot. The C.O. looked up without turning a
+hair:
+
+"Any one hurt?" he asked.
+
+"Only my boots, sir," replied the sergeant-major, suspiciously feeling
+his heel.
+
+I took my departure and began to grope around in the dark in search of
+the narrow track which would guide me back to my company. I searched
+for about ten minutes, but in vain, and I became for a while
+hopelessly lost in a mass of shell-holes. I knew the direction
+roughly, but direction was of little use in that wild confusion of
+broken ground and débris.
+
+What if I should be lost all night? What would they think? It would be
+put down to funk. A cold perspiration came over me. I felt an
+overwhelming sense of loneliness amidst that gruesome scene of
+destruction; and to crown it all, a feeling of responsibility and
+anxiety which made the craters seem deeper as I frantically scrambled
+out of one and into another. At last, to my intense relief, I found
+the little footpath and reached my trench safely.
+
+Time was getting on. I gave orders for the men to dress and lie flat
+on the parados, ready for the word to move. When all preparations were
+completed, and bombs, picks, and shovels issued to each man, I
+signalled the advance, and with a few scouts in front and on the
+flanks, we slowly moved in single file into the unknown.
+
+It was a pitch-black night, intensified by a slight fog, and I took my
+direction by compass bearing, wondering all the while if it would lead
+me right.
+
+The men marched in silence. Nothing could be heard but the muffled
+footsteps over the soft ground, and occasional jingling of a spade or
+pick against the butt of a rifle.
+
+Distance became exaggerated, and fifty paces seemed like five hundred,
+until I began to get a horrible fear that my compass had misled me,
+and that countless German eyes were watching me leading my men into
+the midst of their guns. Where were we going? When would we get back,
+and how many of us? Call it funk or what you like, but whatever it is,
+it's a devilishly creepy feeling; and when at last I found myself
+close to the edge of the wood, I felt as if I were arriving home.
+
+But the real job had not yet begun. I signalled the halt to the
+leading file, and passed the word to turn to the right and extend two
+paces to the right and lie down. I next ordered a sentry group,
+consisting of one section to be sent out by each platoon to occupy
+shell-holes fifty yards in front as a protection against surprise.
+
+The platoon on the left was to bend its flank to face the edge of the
+wood, and get in touch with C Company in the wood; while the platoon
+on the right secured connection with A Company. One Lewis-gun section
+took up position on the left flank at the corner of the wood, whilst
+the other Lewis gun protected my right.
+
+These precautions against surprise being completed, I ordered the men
+to dig for all they were worth; rifles with bayonets fixed, and
+magazines charged to be placed within arm's reach at the back of the
+trench, the earth to be thrown in front until the parapet became
+bullet-proof.
+
+I spotted one man leaning on his shovel, and looking vacantly into the
+darkness.
+
+"Dig, man! Don't stand looking about you," I whispered hoarsely.
+
+"The ground's hard, sir; it's all chalk here."
+
+"Don't be a fool! Dig! I tell you we may be discovered any minute. If
+we get shelled you'll be glad enough of a hole to lie in."
+
+Passing along the line, I overheard two men talking in an undertone:
+
+"How do you like it, Timmy?"
+
+"Fed to the teeth. It's all very well for the skipper to say: 'Dig
+like hell!'--Seems quiet enough here."
+
+"Heard about Bill? Went balmy just after we started. He began by
+laughing and crying; he was as mad as a hatter. He nearly put the wind
+up us in the rear. The skipper sent him back with a couple of
+stretcher-bearers."
+
+"Poor old Bill, hard luck. Thought he couldn't stand much. Got any
+water?"
+
+"Not a drop; I'm as dry as a brick."
+
+"Shut up; there's the skipper standing there."
+
+The conversation stopped; but the latter part worried me not a little.
+Water-bottle empty, good Lord! and no more water for forty-eight
+hours.
+
+All of a sudden the sky was illuminated. Half a dozen Very lights went
+up in rapid succession: we were discovered!
+
+A moment or two later from two different points, three reds and a
+green light went up, falling in our direction. Every man stopped work
+and looked up in amazement. We were in for it; we wanted no telling.
+
+"Dig like hell!" I whispered hoarsely, hurrying along the line of
+wondering men.
+
+But they wanted no urging this time, and every man set to work with
+feverish energy.
+
+Then the bombardment commenced, and in a few minutes the air was
+filled with whistling shells, screeching through the night and making
+the darkness hideous.
+
+We were only a foot below the surface of the ground. Once again I
+hastened along the line:
+
+"Dig like hell!"
+
+Lights were going up in rapid succession, and the German line whence
+they came appeared only a couple of hundred yards in front, and seemed
+to form a semicircle around my left flank.
+
+Clack! Clack! Clack! What was that?--Rifles! My sentry groups were
+firing. Again the rattle of rifles, this time all along the line of
+sentry groups.
+
+"Stand to!"
+
+Every man seized his rifle and crouched in the pit he had dug and
+faced his front. We waited: the bombardment had stopped, and the crack
+of the rifles alone disturbed the night.
+
+I drew my revolver and waited in breathless suspense for the sudden
+rush which seemed imminent.
+
+Were our preparations to be nipped in the bud, after all? Would it be
+a sudden rush; a desperate hand-to-hand fight?--and then, what then?
+
+The minutes passed like hours in an agony of suspense, and then,
+unable to bear the strain any longer, I crept cautiously forward into
+the inky darkness towards one of the sentry groups to find out what
+was amiss.
+
+"Halt! Who is there?"
+
+"O.C., B Company."
+
+"Advance!"
+
+"What's up?" I asked, sliding into the shell-hole beside the corporal.
+
+"There seemed to be a patrol moving about in front; it's all quiet
+now, sir."
+
+"All right; double the sentries for the next hour."
+
+I returned to the line and ordered the men to continue digging.
+
+The bombardment continued, but by and by we began to grow accustomed
+to the din. Several casualties occurred; but still the work of digging
+in continued.
+
+Time was getting on, and I must make my plans for to-morrow's attack.
+
+A few minutes later I chanced to notice a figure sitting leisurely in
+a shell-hole.
+
+"Why, Septimus, is that you?"
+
+"I think so; I say, I think so. Unearthly row; devilishly dangerous
+place, this--what?"
+
+"But what are you doing in there?"
+
+"I was just coming to talk to you about ammunition. A shell burst, and
+my face is simply covered with dust. Has the ammunition arrived yet?"
+
+"No; there's an ammunition dump in the wood somewhere."
+
+"Like me to go and find it?"
+
+I looked at him in amazement. It wasn't funk then, that made him seek
+safety in that shell-hole. Was it possible that dear old Septimus,
+this bland, indifferent tubby, blasé old thing of Bond Street, was
+anxious to go into that creepy, mysterious wood to look for
+ammunition?
+
+"All right; take a corporal and 12 men, and bring back six boxes.
+Don't take unnecessary risks; we shall need every man to-morrow."
+
+Septimus sprang out of the shell-hole, saluted in the most correct
+manner--something quite new for him--and disappeared in the darkness.
+
+This was a new side of Septimus's character which had not shown itself
+before. Only the stoutest heart would have chosen to wander about in
+that wood at midnight, with enemy patrols lurking about. Septimus was
+a man, after all.
+
+Five minutes later he passed me, leading his men. He gripped my hand
+as he passed, with the remark: "Well! Ta-ta, old thing."
+
+"Cheer oh!"
+
+And Septimus was gone. We may call men fops, simple vacant fools, or
+what we like; but the war has proved over and over again that the man
+within the man is merely disguised by his outer covering. Many a Bond
+Street Algy, or ballroom idol has proved amidst the terrors of war
+that the artificial covering of a peace-time habit is but skin-deep;
+and the real man is underneath.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIII
+
+A NIGHT OF ALARM
+
+SEPTIMUS IN A NEW RÔLE. SAVING THE AMMUNITION. THE LAST CARTRIDGE
+
+
+Just then a movement in the rear of my position attracted my
+attention. A number of men were approaching; then halting, they sat on
+the ground, while two figures continued on towards me.
+
+They were Second Lieutenant Wade, the intrepid scout officer, and
+Second Lieutenant Brady, in command of the battalion bombers. It was
+Brady who spoke first:
+
+"Hullo! Getting peppered pretty hot, aren't you?"
+
+"Rather lively! Where are you off to?"
+
+"I've got orders to bomb out that mysterious trench you've heard so
+much about, in order to clear the way for your attack to-morrow. I'm
+going in front of your line and along the edge of the wood."
+
+I despatched a runner to warn the sentry groups, and presently the
+little group of bombers disappeared round the edge of the wood into
+the darkness on their adventurous errand, the success of which would
+mean so much to me on the morrow.
+
+All this time the work of digging is continued with unabated anxiety,
+shells dropping around unceasingly.
+
+All of a sudden I was startled by a rattle of musketry in the
+direction of the wood. There was silence; then several more shots
+followed by a rushing, tearing noise, and yells.
+
+Almost at the same moment the ammunition party emerged breathlessly
+from the wood.
+
+I ran forward to where the men were dropping the ammunition boxes on
+the ground, and falling exhausted. For a moment or two they were too
+breathless to speak. I counted the men: there were 12 of them, and the
+six boxes of ammunition had safely arrived.
+
+But where were Septimus and the corporal? All was silent in the wood.
+I turned to the nearest man who was by this time sitting up, holding
+his head in his hands.
+
+"Where is Mr. D'Arcy and Corporal Brown?" I asked.
+
+"God knows, sir! They stayed to cover our retirement."
+
+"What happened?"
+
+"We found the ammunition dump, sir, and were just beginning to move
+the boxes when we heard some one moving. We grabbed our rifles and
+waited. There seemed to be quite a number crawling around us. Mr.
+D'Arcy ordered us to retire at once, and get the ammunition away at
+any cost; he said he would stay behind and cover our retreat, and
+Corporal Brown offered to stay with him. We hadn't got far, sir, when
+they opened fire; bullets hit the trees and whizzed over our heads.
+Then we heard a rush and some yells. I distinctly heard something in
+German, and Mr. D'Arcy's voice shout back: 'Kamarade be damned!' Then
+there was a scuffle; that's all I know."
+
+My heart beat wildly as I listened to this story. Good God! what did
+that silence mean? There was no further time to be lost.
+
+I ordered a relief party and led the way into the wood. There was not
+a sound to be heard as we crept forward on our hands and knees
+towards the spot where the ammunition had been found.
+
+What was that? We listened breathlessly, and again we heard a low
+groan almost in our midst. There was a shell-hole just in front, and
+crawling along on all fours, I found Septimus D'Arcy, wounded and
+helpless, with his left leg almost blown away, and bleeding from the
+head.
+
+"What's up, D'Arcy? What has happened?" I whispered hoarsely.
+
+A faint smile of recognition came over his pale face as I supported
+him in my arms. His words came painfully:
+
+"The ammunition--is it--safe?"
+
+"Yes, quite safe."
+
+"But what happened after they left?"
+
+"I stayed behind--with the corporal--to protect their retirement. We
+opened rapid fire--to draw German fire on to us. I saw six creeping
+forward. They called to us--to surrender. I refused--demn them! They
+threw bombs--killed the corporal--dirty dogs! smashed my leg--nothing
+much. I picked off three--with my revolver--never used beastly thing
+before; two bolted--last one jumped at me--with bayonet. That's him
+there--just got him--last cartridge."
+
+Septimus was lying heavily on my arms. Nothing could be done for him;
+I saw the end was at hand.
+
+"Good-bye, captain! Knew you'd come. Don't know much about
+soldiering--good sport; shan't have to carry that--demned pack again."
+
+A placid smile came over his chubby face as he gasped out the last
+words. His monocle was still firmly fixed between his fat cheek and
+his eyebrow. Once more he seemed indifferent to his surroundings.
+
+In front of him, the silent evidence of his plucky stand, were the
+dead bodies of four Germans. By his side lay a revolver. I picked up
+and examined the chamber; the last cartridge had been fired!
+
+The men had gathered around; their caps were off. Septimus seemed to
+be looking up smilingly into their faces.
+
+Septimus was dead! But Septimus was still in Bond Street!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIV
+
+NEXT MORNING
+
+A COUNCIL OF WAR. OPERATION ORDERS. A BITTER DISAPPOINTMENT
+
+
+Three A.M. Heavy shell-fire still continues. I have just ordered the
+men to cease work and take rest. Trench is about two feet deep; men
+are dead beat.
+
+4 A.M. Have just received three pages of operation orders. We are to
+attack at 4.45 P.M. in four ways, starting from the trenches we have
+been digging, and advancing diagonally from the corner of the wood
+across the open; passing over the mystery trench and taking the
+central trench.
+
+I have only a vague idea at present where that is. Am fervently hoping
+that the battalion bombers have solved the mystery trench and cleared
+it. No news from them yet. God knows what has been happening there
+during the night.
+
+5 A.M. Have just held a council of war with my officers and N.C.O.'s,
+and explained in detail my plans for the attack. Very impressive
+sight, seeing them all crouching around me in a shell-hole, with
+shells bursting around us, while they listened intently to my orders.
+
+"Each officer is to carry his papers in lower right-hand hip pocket;
+and if he fails, the nearest man is to search the pocket and hand the
+contents on to the next senior. I intend to attack in the following
+order:
+
+ First wave No. 5 Platoon
+ Second No. 6 "
+ Third No. 7 " and
+ Fourth wave No. 8 "
+
+Eighty yards interval between each wave. Bombing sections of Nos. 5
+and 7 to be on the right, and Nos. 6 and 8 on the left of their
+respective platoons.
+
+"No. 1 Lewis Gun to be on the right of the second wave; No. 2 Lewis
+Gun to be on the left of the fourth wave.
+
+"Two runners from each platoon to report to me five minutes before
+zero hour. My position, accompanied by the runners, will be between
+the third and fourth wave.
+
+"On arrival at objective Lewis Gunners to establish strong points,
+assisted by bombers at each end of objective. Each man to carry two
+hundreds rounds of ammunition and three bombs; also three sand-bags in
+his belt, and a pick or shovel tucked through his belt behind. Bombers
+to carry each a sack, containing twelve bombs, but no tools."
+
+Strange warfare this, going into a fight like a navvy.
+
+5.30 A.M. Plans have been explained in detail to every man, and orders
+given that if all officers and N.C.O.'s are knocked out, the men are
+to carry on and finish the job themselves.
+
+Very foggy morning; we are able to finish digging trench.
+
+6 A.M. Astounding news. The battalion bombers have failed. A few
+survivors, after fighting all night, have been driven into the wood.
+The mystery trench over which I must cross is in the hands of the
+Boches. Could we hope to accomplish the double task?
+
+The men heard the news in silence.
+
+7 A.M. Breakfast consists of some dirty bread and cheese, and a little
+water.
+
+8 A.M. Fog lifted. Our position is correct. Can see objective plainly
+about four hundred yards off. We can also be seen plainly, and snipers
+are busy trying to pick us off.
+
+Have made a reconnaissance, and find intervening ground a mass of
+shell-holes. Looks like a rough sea. The advance will be difficult;
+the ground is so churned up. Not a square yard of unbroken ground.
+
+2 P.M. Everything is now in readiness, with nearly three hours to
+spare.
+
+Have ordered men to eat their dinners, which consists of bread and
+cheese at 3 P.M., so that they will go into the fight on full
+stomachs.
+
+I have had no sleep or proper food for nearly two days. Will lie down
+and get an hour's rest before the attack.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XV
+
+THE ADVANCE THROUGH LEUZE WOOD
+
+NEW OPERATION ORDERS. "AT ANY COST." LIKE RATS IN A TRAP
+
+
+I had hardly closed my eyes when a runner from headquarters came
+hurrying along the line, and was directed to where I was dozing at the
+bottom of a trench.
+
+"Message from the C.O., sir, very urgent."
+
+I signed the receipt and tore the envelope open. Good heavens! new
+operation orders! I was astounded. I looked again, hardly daring to
+believe my eyes. Sure enough, there was no mistake about it, three
+pages of closely written operation orders. The head-line seemed to be
+mocking me:
+
+"Fresh operation orders, cancelling those issued this morning."
+
+I read on: "You are to advance on through Leuze Wood, and attack from
+that part of the wood which forms the fourth side of the square-shaped
+trench, thus attacking the inside of the square; B Company taking the
+lower half, and C Company the upper half; A Company to be in support."
+
+A cold shiver ran down my back. What a calamity! and after all the
+pains I had taken to work out the details of the attack, and that
+dreadful night spent in digging these trenches to jump off from. Every
+man knew what to do, and now at the eleventh hour the whole plan was
+altered.
+
+I glanced again at the new orders:
+
+"You are to be at the new place of assembly by 3.30 P.M.; zero hour is
+4.45."
+
+I looked at my watch--Great Scott! it was already 2.15; at 3 P.M. I
+must commence the advance through the wood.
+
+The men had not yet commenced their dinners. What time was there? and
+how was it possible to sit down quietly and digest those three pages
+of new orders and understand their meaning? What time had I to make
+new plans and explain to each man his new task?
+
+There was not a moment to be lost; I turned to my two runners:
+
+"Dinners to be eaten at once. Platoon commanders wanted at the
+double."
+
+I waited, and by and by the platoon commanders, Second Lieutenant
+Farman and Chislehirst, and Sergeants Blackwell and Barnes, came
+running along the top, snipers shooting at them as they ran along.
+They halted on the parados, saluting as they came up, and, still
+standing up, awaited orders, seemingly indifferent to the excellent
+target which they presented.
+
+"Lie down flat," I ordered.
+
+They did as I directed, their faces turned anxiously toward me,
+wondering what was up.
+
+"New operation orders just arrived from headquarters; previous orders
+cancelled. We are to advance through the wood and attack from the
+inside of the square."
+
+I hurriedly read the whole of the orders over to them, and they
+listened silently.
+
+"Go back to your platoons. The men are to be dressed in battle order
+by 2.50--it's now 2.30--by 3 P.M. the platoons are to be closed up
+along the trench, and the leading platoon will enter the wood in
+single file, other platoons following."
+
+As I glanced up I noticed their faces were pale; they were listening
+intently, but uttering no sound. They were receiving orders; they
+realised their responsibility, and they knew their duty.
+
+The last paragraph was underlined. I hurriedly read it and looked up
+at them again:
+
+"Just one more thing," I said. "These are my orders underlined:
+
+"YOU MUST REACH YOUR OBJECTIVE AT ANY COST. IF DRIVEN BACK, YOU ARE TO
+MAKE A STAND AT THE EDGE OF THE WOOD, AND HOLD OUT TILL THE LAST MAN
+FALLS."
+
+It sounded like a death sentence, a forecast of the hour of trial
+which we were to face. Only those who have received such orders on the
+field of battle can realise what it feels like.
+
+In those few dramatic moments we counted our lives as lost. We
+recognised how desperate was our task. Success we might hope for; but
+failure we must pay the price of. We must fight till the last man
+falls--and yet we were merely civilian soldiers.
+
+I looked into their faces; our eyes met. I understood; I could trust
+them; they could trust me.
+
+"That's all; return to your platoons and prepare to move."
+
+They had not uttered a word through all this; no words were necessary.
+They jumped to their feet; saluted as though we were back on Salisbury
+Plain, and the next moment ran along the parados to their platoons.
+
+I watched them, and saw them kneel down on the top of their trench,
+indifferent to the snipers' bullets whistling about their heads,
+hurriedly explaining the situation to their men.
+
+By 3 P.M. the men were ready and had closed along the trench to the
+wood.
+
+The movement had been seen by the enemy, and a terrific burst of
+firing commenced; although, at the time I could not see what effect it
+was having.
+
+I waited several minutes, but there was no further movement along the
+trench to indicate that the first platoon had entered the wood. I sent
+forward the message, "Carry on," but still no movement resulted.
+
+At last, feeling something was wrong and unable to restrain my
+impatience any longer, I jumped out of the trench and ran along the
+parados.
+
+What I saw there appalled me for the moment; the wood in front of me
+was filled with bursting shells; a continuous pr-r-r-r-r seemed to be
+moving backward and forward, and bullets were whistling in all
+directions.
+
+Good God! what a hell! No wonder the men hesitated! What was to be
+done? My orders left me no alternative. I must advance through the
+wood. My brain kept repeating the words, "At any cost!" What a cost it
+would be to enter that hell! It was now, or never!
+
+We were hesitating; something must be done, and done quickly. I looked
+at Farman, and I knew I could count on him.
+
+The next moment I leaped into a newly made shell-hole, about five
+yards in the wood; called upon Farman to follow, and a moment later he
+came jumping after.
+
+The noise was terrific. We yelled at the top of our voices for the
+next man to follow.
+
+The next man to take the leap was the company sergeant-major. A piece
+of shell struck him in the side, and he rolled over on the ground,
+clutching at his tunic.
+
+Again we yelled for the men to come along; and one by one they took
+the leap.
+
+When six of us were in the shell-hole it was time for us to empty it
+to make room for others. Farman and I took it in turns to lead the
+way, and this process went on through the wood, leaping from hole to
+hole, and yelling at the top of our lungs for the others to follow us.
+
+By this time the scene inside the wood was indescribable. Machine-gun
+bullets were spraying backward and forward; 6-inch shells were
+exploding in all directions; and the din was intensified by the
+crashing of trees uprooted by the explosions, and the dull thud of the
+missiles striking the ground.
+
+Through the dull light of that filthy wood we frequently cast an
+anxious glance towards the red rockets being sent up from the German
+lines, directing the fire of their artillery towards us.
+
+Sometimes, in leaping forward, we would land beside the dead and
+mutilated carcass of a German soldier who had fallen a week before.
+It was ghastly, terrible; and the millions of flies sucking at his
+open wounds would swarm about us, seemingly in a buzz of anger at our
+disturbance. But sickly and ghastly as the scene was, farther and
+farther into this exaggerated hell we must go.
+
+By this time the cries of the wounded added to the terrors of the
+scene. Each time we jumped into a shell-hole, we turned to watch the
+men leap in. Each time it seemed that a new face appeared, and the
+absence of those who had jumped into the last shell-hole was only too
+significant.
+
+But, undaunted by their falling comrades, each man, in his turn,
+leaped forward and would lie gasping for breath until his turn came
+for another effort.
+
+Farman was the first to speak. It was his turn to take the next leap:
+
+"I don't think it really matters. There's a hole about thirty yards
+away; I think I'll go straight for that."
+
+He got up and walked leisurely across, as though inviting the death
+which seemed inevitable. He stopped at the shell-hole, and for a
+moment seemed to be looking down undecided whether to jump in or not.
+
+I shouted at him:
+
+"Don't be a damned fool; jump!"
+
+The next moment a shell burst between us, and I fell back into the
+shell-hole. When I again looked out and my eyes could penetrate the
+smoke, I saw no sign of Farman. I yelled, and to my intense relief I
+saw his head appear. He was safe!
+
+Again and again the last paragraph of my orders seemed to be blazing
+in front of me, and like a hidden hand from that dark inferno of
+horrors, kept beckoning me forward, "AT ANY COST! AT ANY COST!"
+
+Yes; this must be the end; but it's hell to die in a wood.
+
+The men used to call it Lousy Wood. What do they call it now? They
+were brave fellows; and they were only civilian soldiers, too! They
+used to be volunteers once. People would laugh, and call them Saturday
+afternoon soldiers.
+
+Reviews in Hyde Park used to be a joke, and the comic papers
+caricatured these men, and used them as material for their jests.
+
+They were only Territorials! That man, panting hard at the bottom of
+the shell-hole, and still clutching at his rifle, is a bank clerk;
+that man who fell at the last jump, with his stomach ripped up, was a
+solicitor's clerk.
+
+Look at the others. Their faces are pale; their eyes are bulging. But
+they are the same faces one used to see in Cornhill and Threadneedle
+Street.
+
+Yes, they are only Territorials! But here in this filthy wood they are
+damned proud of it.
+
+And what is taking place in England to-day?
+
+Is it really true that while all this is going on in Leuze Wood,
+orchestras are playing sweet music in brilliantly lighted restaurants
+in London--while a gluttonous crowd eat of the fat of the land? Is it
+really true that women in England are dressing more extravagantly than
+ever? Is it really true that some men in England are unable or
+unwilling to share the nation's peril--are even threatening to strike?
+
+No! No! Do not let us think that this is the true picture of England.
+If it is, then, Territorials, let us die in Leuze Wood!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVI
+
+THE ATTACK
+
+A DESPERATE SITUATION. BATTLE FORMATION. "FOR ENGLAND"
+
+
+Joy! The last leap I took landed me in a trench, and I found to my
+great relief that it was the lower part of the square which ran
+through the wood. A few yards along this trench it emerged into the
+open, where it was in possession of the Germans.
+
+Farman and I sat down, side by side, breathing heavily from our
+exertions.
+
+"That was hell, Farman," I said, hardly daring to trust my voice.
+
+"Awful!"
+
+"I hope the men are still following."
+
+"Those that are left."
+
+"Have a cigarette; it will buck the men up to see us smoking."
+
+"Thanks, I will, though I'm as dry as a bone."
+
+"Save your water; we've still got the attack to do. We've got an hour
+yet; that will give the men time to recover."
+
+By this time, one by one, the men began to jump into the trench. As
+the men arrived, their faces pale and eyes started, we called them by
+name. They looked up and smiled with relief at seeing us sitting
+there, side by side. They recognised that the last jump had been made,
+and for the time being, at any rate, they were safe.
+
+We had started through the wood, about one hundred and thirty strong,
+and barely eighty mustered for the final attack.
+
+Some men of C Company appeared, threading their way along the trench.
+Farther in the wood, the commander, Lieutenant Barton, came up to
+arrange details for the attack.
+
+"You got your new orders in time, then," I remarked.
+
+"Just in time. It's hell, isn't it? I've lost heavily already, and
+we've still got to go over the top."
+
+"I've got orders to take half the battalion bombers from you; where
+are they?"
+
+"I would like to keep them; there are not many left, and they are
+badly broken up--been fighting all night."
+
+"All right, you keep them. I'm going to form up between here and that
+broken tree. Will you form up farther to the left?"
+
+"All right. Well, I'll be off; cheer oh! old chap."
+
+"Good-bye, Barton. Good luck!"
+
+I never saw Barton again! I heard some months afterwards that he fell,
+riddled with machine-gun bullets whilst leading his men into the
+subsequent attack.
+
+"Pass the word for No. 8 Platoon commander," I ordered, wishing to
+ascertain if the last platoon had arrived.
+
+A young sergeant came up at the double, and saluted.
+
+"I am in command, sir."
+
+His tone and manner inspired me immensely. Notwithstanding all the
+danger we had passed through, he seemed to be full of ginger and pride
+at finding himself in command of the platoon.
+
+"Where is Mr. Chislehirst, then?" I asked.
+
+"Wounded, sir, in the wood; shot through the chest. The last I saw of
+him he was giving another wounded man a drink from his water-bottle."
+
+"All right; do you understand your orders?"
+
+"Yes, sir, quite."
+
+"Return to your platoon, and await orders to form up."
+
+He saluted and doubled back to his men. I forget his name, but he was
+a fine fellow, that sergeant; quite cool, and evidently pleased at his
+new responsibility.
+
+So poor old Chislehirst was hit; fine fellow; very young, only about
+twenty; good company in the mess; reliable in the field. Just like him
+to give his water-bottle to some one else when he could go no farther.
+
+Farman was my only subaltern left. Suddenly he gripped my arm and
+pointed into the wood:
+
+"Look over there. Who are those fellows creeping along that trench?"
+
+I looked in the direction he was pointing, and there, to my
+astonishment, on the very ground just vacated by C Company, about a
+dozen figures in bluish grey were creeping along a shallow trench. I
+thought at first they were coming in to surrender; but they made no
+signs, but were evidently making the best of cover.
+
+What were they up to? There were only about 12 of them, and I had
+between 70 and 80 men. For such a small number to come out alone and
+attack us seemed absurd, and I waited, expecting them to throw up
+their hands and come in. Perhaps they thought they had not been seen.
+I picked up a rifle, and taking aim, fired at the last man but one; I
+missed.
+
+Still they kept creeping on. I fired a second time at the same man,
+and he dropped. The thing didn't seem real, seeing those heads bobbing
+along a trench; I felt for a moment as though I were shooting rabbits.
+
+The next moment I realised their object. By this time they had worked
+well round my flanks. They were evidently a few daring men, who were
+trying to creep up unnoticed, with the intention of throwing bombs
+while we were in a congested area, occupied in forming up for the
+attack. A daring ruse, but a clever one; for a dozen men throwing
+bombs at close quarters could wipe us off the map, or, at any rate,
+could do enough damage by shock action of this kind to prevent our
+attack starting.
+
+I dared not give any order to fire for fear of hitting the men of C
+Company. The situation was desperate. I had no time to spare, for zero
+hour was close at hand. The same thoughts were running through
+Farman's mind.
+
+"Shall I have a go at them?" he said.
+
+"Yes; form up your platoon, and stick them with the bayonet; then join
+the attack as a fourth wave."
+
+I watched Farman and his platoon with bayonets fixed, creeping on all
+fours towards the German bombers. That was the last I saw of them, as
+it was within 10 minutes of zero hour, and we were not yet in battle
+formation.
+
+I heard afterwards that they did the job well. But to part with the
+platoon and my only remaining officer at this critical moment was a
+great loss to me; for I could not count upon them in the attack for
+which I had now only three platoons left--about sixty men.
+
+Half my strength had gone, and the real attack had not yet begun. I
+sent for the remaining platoon commanders and explained the
+situation:
+
+"No. 6 Platoon will now become the first wave. Form up and extend
+along the edge of the wood and await my signal to advance into the
+open. No. 7 Platoon, form up immediately in rear; and No. 8 Platoon,
+assemble in the trench close up. Bombing section of No. 6 will proceed
+along the trench parallel with the advance, bombing it out as they go
+along."
+
+The men formed up. The minutes seemed to be like hours. We were facing
+the inside of the square trench, which was a mass of shell-holes, and
+as though anticipating our intention, shells were bursting and bullets
+whistling on all sides.
+
+How peaceful England must be at this moment; how pretty the villages!
+And how wicked this hell seemed in front of us! And these were the men
+of England--nice chaps, only Territorials.
+
+One used to meet them in the city every day. Some were awful nuts. See
+them at lunch; watch them pouring out of Liverpool Street Station
+between 9 and 10 o'clock in the morning, with newspaper and
+walking-stick; see them in the banks, bending over ledgers. You could
+hardly believe it; but these were the same men.
+
+They were not very trim just now; their hands are grimy as they clutch
+at their rifles, undaunted by the terrors they have already passed
+through and the sight of their fallen comrades left groaning in the
+wood.
+
+There they are, extended and lying flat on the ground, waiting further
+orders. They have come through one hell by the skin of their teeth,
+and are patiently looking into another hell; their lives were counted
+by minutes, these office men. But their eyes were fixed on the far
+side of the square trench which was to be their objective; unless by
+God's will, and for the sake of England, they found an earlier one.
+
+London men! Some may call you "only Territorials." Training has been
+your hobby; but fighting was never your profession.
+
+What will England think of this? England may never know.
+
+Who ever heard of Leuze Wood before? If a man is killed in England
+there is an inquest. People read about it in the papers.
+
+Are the people left behind in England suffering hardships
+uncomplainingly, and gritting their teeth like you are? You are only
+getting a bob a day. England needs you; you are masters. Why don't
+you strike at this critical moment?
+
+No, my lads; you are made of different stuff. You are men! There are
+those in England this day who work for England's cause; there are
+others who are enriching themselves by your absence; there are homes
+which will feel your sacrifice.
+
+You have seen the wasted homes and the ghastly outrages in France; and
+between that picture and the green fields of England you must make
+your stand; those in England will depend upon you this day.
+
+Zero hour is at hand. Agonies, mutilation, and death are within a few
+yards of you. There will be no pictures of your deeds; there are no
+flags or trumpets to inspire you; you are lying on the dirty ground on
+the edge of Leuze Wood, with hell in front of you, and hell behind
+you--hell in those trenches on the left, hell in those trenches on the
+right.
+
+One more minute and you will stand up and walk into it. My lads! It's
+for England!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVII
+
+AT ANY COST
+
+OVER THE TOP. MAD, FIGHTING MAD. THE FINAL ASSAULT
+
+
+At last the thunder of our guns towards the German lines confirmed the
+hour. Zero hour had arrived; the barrage had begun.
+
+"No. 6 Platoon will advance."
+
+The front line jumped up and walked into the open. Wonderful! Steady
+as a rock! The line was perfect.
+
+On the left the front line of C Company has also emerged from the
+wood; the bombers of No. 6 Platoon disappeared along the mystery
+trench.
+
+The tut-ut-ut-ut of machine-guns developed from several parts of the
+square, while the crack of rifles increased in intensity.
+
+No. 7 Platoon jumped up and advanced into the open, followed by the
+third wave.
+
+I extended my runners and followed.
+
+What followed next beggars description. As I write these lines my hand
+hesitates to describe the hell that was let loose upon those men. No
+eye but mine could take in the picture so completely.
+
+Will the world ever know what these men faced and fought
+against--these men of the City of London? Not unless I tell it, for I
+alone saw all that happened that day; and my hand alone, weak and
+incapable though it feels, is the only one that can do it.
+
+Barely had I emerged from the wood with my ten runners when a perfect
+hurricane of shells were hurled at us, machine-guns from several
+points spraying their deadly fire backward and forward, dropping men
+like corn before the reaper. From all three sides of the square a
+hurricane of fire was poured into the centre of the square upon us, as
+we emerged from the wood.
+
+In far less time than it takes to record it, the attacking waves
+became a mere sprinkling of men. They went on for a yard or two, and
+then all seemed to vanish; and even my runners, whom I had extended
+into line, were dropping fast.
+
+The situation was critical, desperate. Fearful lest the attack should
+fail, I ran forward, and collecting men here and there from
+shell-holes where some had taken refuge, I formed them into a fresh
+firing-line, and once more we pressed forward.
+
+Again and again the line was thinned; and again the survivors,
+undaunted and unbeaten, reformed and pressed forward.
+
+Men laughed, men cried in the desperation of the moment. We were
+grappling with death; we were dodging it, cheating it; we were mad,
+blindly hysterical. What did anything matter? Farther and farther into
+the inferno we must press, at any cost, at any cost; leaping, jumping,
+rushing, we went from shell-hole to shell-hole; and still the fire
+continued with unrelenting fury.
+
+I jumped into a shell-hole, and found myself within ten yards of my
+objective. My three remaining runners jumped in alongside of me. They
+were Arnold, Dobson, and Wilkinson.
+
+Arnold was done for! He looked up at me with eyes staring and face
+blanched, and panted out that he could go no farther, and I realised
+that I could count on him no more.
+
+I glanced to the left, just in time to see three Germans not five
+yards away, and one after the other jump from a shell-hole which
+formed a sort of bay to their trench, and run away.
+
+Wishing to save the ammunition in my revolver for the hand-to-hand
+scuffle which seemed imminent, I seized the rifle of Arnold and fired.
+I missed all three; my hand was shaky.
+
+What was I to do next? The company on my left had disappeared; the
+trench just in front of me was occupied by the Boches. I had with me
+three runners, one of whom was helpless, and in the next shell-hole
+about six men, the sole survivors of my company.
+
+Where were the supports? Anxiously I glanced back toward the wood; why
+did they not come?
+
+Poor fellows, I did not know it at the time, but the hand of death had
+dealt with them even more heavily in the wood than it had with us.
+
+My position was desperate. I could not retire. My orders were
+imperative: "You must reach your objective at any cost." I must get
+there somehow. But even if we got there, how long could I hope to hold
+out with such a handful of men?
+
+Immediate support I must have; I must take risks. I turned to brave
+Dobson and Wilkinson:
+
+"Message to the supports: 'Send me two platoons quickly; position
+critical.'"
+
+Without a moment's hesitation they jumped up and darted off with the
+message which might save the day.
+
+Dobson fell before he had gone two yards; three paces farther on I saw
+Wilkinson, the pet of the company, turn suddenly round and fall on the
+ground, clutching at his breast. All hope for the supports was gone.
+
+At this moment the bombing section, which by this time had cleared the
+mystery trench, arrived on the right of the objective; and to my
+delirious joy, I noticed the Germans in the trench in front of me
+running away along the trench.
+
+It was now, or never! We must charge over that strip of land and
+finish them with the bayonet. A moment's hesitation and the tables
+might again be turned, and all would be lost. The trench in front must
+be taken by assault; it must be done. There were six or seven of us
+left, and we must do it.
+
+I yelled to the men:
+
+"Get ready to charge, they are running. Come on! Come on!"
+
+I jumped out of the shell-hole, and they followed me. Once again I was
+mad. I saw nothing, I heard nothing; I wanted to kill! kill!
+
+Pf--ung!
+
+Oh! My God! I was hit in the head! I was blind!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XVIII
+
+LEFT ON THE FIELD
+
+THE MYSTERY OF DEATH. THE SECRET CODE. TWO TERRIBLE DAYS
+
+
+I was wounded! I was blind! But the moments that followed are clear in
+my memory. The brain shocked by a blow works quickly and actively in
+its excited effort to hold its own.
+
+I was quite conscious and thinking clearly: I knew what had happened
+and what would happen; I remembered every detail.
+
+My head at the moment was inclined to the right, for I was shouting to
+the men. Like a flash I remembered that about fifty yards to the left
+of me there was a "German strong point" still occupied by the Germans.
+A bullet had entered my left temple; it must have come from a sniper
+in that strong point. The bullet had passed clean through my head; I
+thought it had emerged through my right temple. I was mistaken on that
+point, for I found some days later that it had emerged through the
+centre of my right eye.
+
+I remember distinctly clutching my head and sinking to the ground, and
+all the time I was thinking "so this is the end--the finish of it all;
+shot through the head, mine is a fatal wound."
+
+Arnold jumped up, and catching me in his arms, helped me back into the
+shell-hole.
+
+I hesitate to tell what followed. But as I am trying to record the
+sensations experienced at the time of receiving a head wound, I will
+describe the next experience simply, and leave the reader to form his
+own conclusions.
+
+I was blind then, as I am now; but the blackness which was then before
+me underwent a change. A voice from somewhere behind me said: "This is
+death; will you come?"
+
+Then gradually the blackness became more intense. A curtain seemed to
+be slowly falling; there was space; there was darkness, blacker than
+my blindness; everything was past. There was a peacefulness, a
+nothingness; but a happiness indescribable.
+
+I seemed for a moment somewhere in the emptiness looking down at my
+body, lying in the shell-hole, bleeding from the temple. I was dead!
+and that was my body; but I was happy.
+
+But the voice I had heard seemed to be waiting for an answer. I seemed
+to exert myself by a frantic effort, like one in a dream who is trying
+to awaken.
+
+I said: "No, not now; I won't die." Then the curtain slowly lifted; my
+body moved and I was moving it. I was alive!
+
+There, my readers, I have told you, and I have hesitated to tell it
+before. More than that, I will tell you that I was not unconscious;
+neither did I lose consciousness until several minutes later, and then
+unconsciousness was quite different.
+
+I have told you how clear was my brain the moment I was hit, and I
+tell you also that after the sensation I have just related, my brain
+was equally clear, as I will show you, until I became unconscious.
+
+Call it a hallucination, a trick of the brain, or what you will. I
+make no attempt to influence you; I merely record the incident--but my
+own belief I will keep to myself.
+
+Whatever it was, I no longer feel there is any mystery about death.
+Nor do I dread it.
+
+Arnold was busy tearing open the field dressing which I carried in a
+pocket of my tunic.
+
+"Use the iodine first, Arnold; it's in the pocket in a glass phial."
+
+"The glass is broken, sir."
+
+"In a piece of paper there are two morphia tablets--quick, better give
+them to me."
+
+"They are not here, sir." And he bound the dressing round my eyes as
+the blood trickled down my face.
+
+"Quick, Arnold, my right pocket--feel in it; some papers there--a
+secret code--take them out--tear them up--quickly; tell me have you
+done it?"
+
+"Yes, sir, I have done it."
+
+I was sinking; I felt myself going; I felt that the end was at hand. I
+clutched his shoulder and pulled him towards me:
+
+"Arnold, I'm going. If you get back--tell my--wife--" But the message
+that was on my lips was not finished; I could speak no more. I was
+dropping into space, dropping, dropping; everything disappeared, I
+remembered no more.
+
+I do not know how long I remained in this condition. I remember
+gaining consciousness and finding Arnold by my side.
+
+Something terrible was happening. I gradually began to realise that
+another attack was taking place over my head. This time the fire was
+coming from both sides. A stream of bullets seemed to be pouring over
+the shell-hole. The meaning was obvious: a machine-gun had been placed
+in the trench ten yards away, and its deadly fire was pouring over the
+shell-hole in which we lay. Loud explosions were taking place all
+round us, and with each explosion the earth seemed to upheave, and I
+felt the thug, thug of pieces of metal striking the earth close by;
+whilst showers of earth kept falling on my body. I couldn't last long.
+The guns of both sides seemed to be searching for us; we must soon be
+blown to pieces.
+
+How long this lasted I cannot say. I was weak; my shattered nerves
+could not stand such a terrible ordeal. I lay huddled and shivering at
+the bottom of the shell-hole, waiting for the jagged metal to strike
+my body, or be hurled, mutilated, into the air.
+
+Again I became unconscious. When I next recovered my senses Arnold
+was trying to lift me, to carry me away, but his strength was not
+equal to it. He laid me down again.
+
+The firing had ceased. He seemed to be peering out of the shell-hole
+and talking to me. I think he was planning escape. It must have been
+dark, for he seemed uncertain about the direction.
+
+Then I began to vomit; I seemed to be vomiting my heart out, while
+Arnold seemed to be trying to comfort me.
+
+I again became unconscious. When I regained consciousness for the
+third time it seemed to me that I had been insensible for a great
+length of time. But I seemed to be much refreshed, although very weak.
+
+Everything was silent, uncanny; I could see nothing, hear nothing.
+Yes, I remembered; I was shot blind, and I was still in the
+shell-hole. I felt my head; there was a rough bandage round it,
+covering my eyes. The bandage over my right eye was hardened with
+blood, and dried blood covered my left cheek. My hair was matted with
+clay and blood; and my clothes seemed to be covered with loose earth.
+
+But what did this uncanny silence mean?--Arnold, where was he? I
+called him by name, but there was no response. I remembered the firing
+I had heard: yes, he must be dead.
+
+In my blindness and despair I groped on my hands and knees around the
+shell-hole to find his body. He was not there. _I was alone!_
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XIX
+
+THE JAWS OF DEATH
+
+LONELINESS, DARKNESS, AND SILENCE. A LAST EFFORT. I PREPARE FOR DEATH
+
+
+I did not know at the time, of course, what had become of Arnold; but
+I found out later.
+
+Fearing I was dying when I lapsed into unconsciousness again, after my
+fit of vomiting, he decided under cover of darkness to try and find
+his way back to the British lines to bring me aid.
+
+After stumbling about in and out of shell-holes, he suddenly saw the
+barrel of a rifle pointing at him from a trench close by, and
+following him as he moved; and a moment later he was a prisoner.
+
+Understanding German, he told his captors that I was lying out in No
+Man's Land, and begged them to send me medical aid; and they answered
+that stretcher-bearers would be sent to make a search.
+
+Whether the stretcher-bearers were sent or not I do not know; but if
+they were, they were not successful in finding me; for to the best of
+my belief it was on the Monday morning that I again regained
+consciousness, to find myself alone--two days after I had been shot.
+
+It is difficult for me to describe my feelings when I found myself
+alone. I had no pain, I seemed to feel very small and the world very
+large. I sat up and felt my head; my face felt twice its usual size,
+and seemed sticky and clammy with earth and blood.
+
+Everything was so silent.
+
+There was a great lump of hardened blood where the rough field
+dressing covered my right eye; my left cheek, nose, and lips were
+swollen tremendously.
+
+Whether it was night or day I did not know. But I knew I was blind. I
+tried to collect my thoughts and to reason out my position.
+
+Where was the German line, and where was the British? I knew that I
+must be a considerable distance from the British line; but which
+direction it was in, I could not tell.
+
+If I were to crawl, which way should I go and where should I find
+myself? Better to make the attempt and take my chance, than lie where
+I was. On my hands and knees I tried to crawl up the side of the
+shell-hole. But I had not reckoned on my weakness; the world was so
+large and I was so small.
+
+Before I could reach the top my strength gave out, and I slid to the
+bottom. Again and again I tried, and with each attempt I kept slipping
+back, each time, bringing with me a pile of loose earth.
+
+At last I realised how hopeless it all was, with so little strength.
+And unable even to reach to the top of the shell-hole, how could I
+hope ever to reach the British line across the sea of shell-holes
+which intervened? I seemed so far from everything; though little did I
+dream at the time that German soldiers were within a few yards of me
+in the trench from which I had driven them by such desperate efforts
+two days before--two days! Surely it was two years!
+
+Then my fate dawned upon me. Of course the end was quite logical. This
+was the end; it could not be otherwise. Had I not made up my mind it
+would come? Surely I did before I started? Was I not shot through the
+head and left to die? Well, this was the proper place to die. But
+what surprised me was that the thought of dying seemed so comforting.
+I was so weary, and death seemed so peaceful.
+
+I have heard people say that when a person is drowning, after the
+first frantic struggles are over, a delightful sensation of
+peacefulness comes over him, and he ceases to desire to help himself.
+That was how I felt at that moment. This shell-hole was my grave.
+Well, it seemed quite right and proper.
+
+The idea of getting back to life after suffering so many deaths seemed
+very unreasonable. My sensations were those of one who had awakened to
+find himself buried alive. To be alive at all was cheating death,
+which held me firmly in its grip. Better to accept it and wait calmly
+for the end.
+
+The life of the world seemed so far away from me. My family, my home,
+my friends and scenes that I used to know so well seemed in a misty
+past, a long, long way away--a different age.
+
+After all, it did not matter very much. It was all so very long ago.
+It had all happened long ago. My absence was an accepted fact; I was
+now a memory.
+
+Now, I have already said that I awoke refreshed. I will say, further,
+that I was never so clear-headed in my life. I had little power in my
+limbs. My brain was never more calm and calculating and indifferent to
+the death which I knew was at hand.
+
+It was not nerve, because I had none. It had nothing to do with the
+question of pluck or cowardice. It was simply the state of the brain
+before its last kick. I had ceased to resist my fate; I accepted it. I
+was not dead yet--but I was to die there, and that was to be my grave.
+
+I began to think out calmly in what way my life would flicker out, and
+I concluded that it would come as a result of my wound during a period
+of unconsciousness, or by the slower process of thirst, starvation,
+and exposure. In the latter case I should probably have violent spasms
+or struggles. I had better prepare myself.
+
+I was lying in a very uncomfortable position. There was a pile of
+loose earth, which stuck against my body awkwardly. With my hands and
+feet I scooped it out until my body lay comfortably in a hollow, with
+the loose earth forming a sort of bed. In doing this I found a
+water-bottle. Arnold must have left it behind for me. There was only a
+drain in it, which I drank, and threw the bottle away.
+
+I next searched my pockets for food and found a small crust, the
+remains of what had been my food the day before the attack. I placed
+this carefully in my pocket for use at the time when I should
+experience the final pangs of starvation. My own water-bottle still
+contained about half a pint of water. I placed this on the ground,
+close to where my face would be, so that I could clutch it readily.
+
+These preparations over, my brain began to get tired. There was
+nothing else to be done; everything was ready. I would lie down now
+and wait for the end. I laid my head on the ground, using the side of
+the shell-hole as a pillow.
+
+I was very comfortable, the soft earth seemed almost like a bed. After
+all, I was a lucky fellow to be able to die in a comfortable way like
+this. I wondered how long it would really be--days more, perhaps, but
+still I could wait. Yes, the life of the world was a very long way
+away; after all, it did not matter.
+
+How long I waited in this position I do not know, but it suddenly
+occurred to me that I was passing away, and for a moment all the old
+scenes came closer. They were passing by in a sort of procession.
+
+A sudden impulse caused me to raise myself into a sitting position. I
+waved my hand above my head and shouted out, "Good-bye." The
+procession was over. I lay down again and waited for the end.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XX
+
+AT THE MERCY OF THE HUN--AND AFTER
+
+A BASIN OF SOUP. HOSPITAL AT ST. QUENTIN. THE "OPEN SESAME"
+
+
+A moment or two later something occurred which caused my wearied brain
+to be roused again into activity. What could it mean?
+
+I was again thinking hard, listening intently; something undefinable
+had happened to suddenly revive my mental condition. Had I passed
+away, and was this the next life? I felt like one who had awakened out
+of a dream in the dead of night, conscious that some one or something
+was moving near him.
+
+"Englishman! Kamarade!"
+
+Great God! I was found!
+
+Had I the strength I should probably have screamed with joy, for that
+was my impulse at hearing a human voice. A second later and my feeling
+was to shrink from discovery. Surrender? Was it then to come to this,
+after all?
+
+I did not answer; it was not necessary.
+
+He must have heard me shout; he must know where I am. I was unarmed
+and helpless; what need to answer such a call? He would probably seek
+me, and I should be found without need to foul my lips with an answer.
+
+And then I felt that it was not my life that was being saved, but a
+lingering death avoided by a murderous, but quick despatch. Well,
+perhaps it was better it should come that way.
+
+Presently I heard some one crawling towards me. A few pebbles rolled
+down the slope, and there was silence again. I felt that he was
+looking down at me. Again a shuffle, and a quantity of loose earth
+rolled down the slope, and he was sliding down towards me.
+
+The supreme moment had arrived. Would it be a bullet or a bayonet
+thrust; and where would it strike me?
+
+I lay perfectly still. He seemed to be bending over me undecidedly. I
+thought he might believe me dead and go away without finishing me off,
+to seek the cause of the shout elsewhere.
+
+I raised myself on my elbow and turned my face towards him. Then, to
+my astonishment he put his arms around my body and raised me up. What
+strange wonder was this? He put my arm around his neck, and with his
+own arm around my body, he raised me to my feet. But I could not
+stand. Then, placing both arms firmly around me, he dragged me out of
+the shell-holes. I felt myself being dragged several yards, and then
+he stopped.
+
+I heard many voices talking below me. What would happen next. Then
+several hands caught hold of me, and I was lifted into a trench.
+
+Some one gave an order, and I was dragged along the trench and around
+a corner. More voices seemed to come from still farther below. Some
+one picked hold of my feet, and I was carried down several steps. I
+was in a dugout.
+
+It seemed warm and cosy. There were officers around me. Here must be
+the company commander whom I had driven away two days before. Now he
+could take his revenge. What mercy could I hope from him?
+
+A voice asked me a question in English. But by this time I had
+collapsed completely. I tried to speak, but no sound would come from
+my throat. My head seemed to be an enormous size; my jaw would not
+move. I felt some one examine my tunic and examine my pockets. No,
+there were no papers there. I heard some one say "Hauptmann." Then
+more talking.
+
+A cigarette was put in my mouth. I held it between my swollen lips,
+but could not inhale. A sharp command was given, and once more I was
+lifted up on to some one's back, and was being dragged down a long
+communication trench.
+
+I was able presently to realise that I was in a dressing-station, for
+I was laid on a stretcher. Some one bent over me, evidently a medical
+officer.
+
+My throat was parched. Oh, how thirsty I was! He was saying something
+to me in English in a very kindly manner. He opened a bottle of
+Seltzer water, and, lifting me up, placed it to my lips. Oh, how
+thirsty I was! I held out my hand for more. Bottle after bottle of
+Seltzer water was opened, and I drank one after the other. In my
+haziness I seemed to be wondering how they came to be supplied with
+such quantities of Seltzer water so close up to the front line.
+
+He opened up my tunic and rubbed something on my chest. I heard him
+say, very gently:
+
+"Injection against tetanus. It won't hurt you"; and then I felt a very
+slight pin prick. He laid me down again. My head was throbbing.
+
+How hot and stuffy it was! I heard some groans, voices were speaking
+in a low tone. I again heard the word, "Hauptmann."
+
+ * * * * *
+
+Of the days which followed I have only a hazy recollection. My brain
+and body sustained during the period of danger and strain, collapsed
+completely, and during the next six days I had only occasional periods
+of sensibility.
+
+I can, therefore, only recall the facts between the time of my being
+picked up and my arrival at Hanover, six days later, in a disjointed
+manner.
+
+Telling only of incidents, which stand out here and there in my
+memory, it must be borne in mind that during the operations of
+September the 8th and 9th I had felt the weight of my responsibility;
+and the great shock caused by my wound and the two days' exposure and
+suffering that followed, imposed a great strain upon my system, and
+reaction had now set in.
+
+My wound had received no attention, and my right eye was hopelessly
+mutilated. The optic nerve of my left eye was damaged beyond repair,
+and the eye itself was obscured by an enormous swelling. My sense of
+smell was gone, and my cheeks, nose, and mouth were swollen and numbed
+to a painful degree.
+
+I had lost power in my lower jaw, which would barely move. My nerves
+were completely shattered, and the mere touch of a hand would make me
+shrink with fright.
+
+I had lost my voice, and during the occasional periods of sensibility,
+I could only speak in a startled whisper, while my brain in hideous
+delirium would constantly take me back to the scenes through which I
+had just passed.
+
+I remember my stretcher being lifted and being placed in a horse-drawn
+ambulance with several others. Before leaving, the M.O. gave me a
+bottle of water, and so great was my thirst that for several days I
+kept this tightly gripped in my hand, and would not part with it
+except to get it refilled.
+
+I have a hazy idea of being transferred from one ambulance to another,
+and several journeys. The ground was very rough, and the shaking of
+the wagon seemed to cause great pain to other occupants. The bumping
+to my own head compelled me to raise it from the pillow and resist the
+jolts by resting it on my hand.
+
+Where I spent Monday night I do not know, but on Tuesday night I found
+myself in what must have been a small hospital in a town I do not
+remember.
+
+It seemed to me that I was in a sort of basement of a private house,
+and that a man and woman were watching over me, exhibiting very great
+kindness and compassion.
+
+I seemed to awaken from my stupor, and remember some snatches of
+conversation, as they bent over me, for they could both speak a little
+English.
+
+Blood and clay were still caked on my face and hair; and my uniform
+was sticky with blood and grime. Oh, how I wished I could take it off
+and be put into clean clothes and a bed!
+
+The man was taking off my boots:
+
+"Dese very goot boots, yah?"
+
+I assented in a whisper.
+
+"You have dem give you, yah?"
+
+"No," I whispered, "bought them myself."
+
+"Where do you buy such goot boots?"
+
+"London."
+
+"Ah, yah. I thought you would not get such goot boots for nothings.
+Look after dem well; we don't get goot boots like dat here."
+
+I whispered to him:
+
+"What is that noise?"
+
+"Ah, it is a pity. Ze English zey have been firing ze long-range guns
+here, big guns. Zay carry twenty-seven miles. Ve moved dis hospital
+two times, yah."
+
+The woman came up to my stretcher with a basin of soup. I shall never
+forget that basin of soup. It was probably very ordinary soup, but
+when I tasted the first spoonful I devoured it ravenously, for all
+this time I had not realised that I was suffering from starvation. For
+the past three days not an atom of food had passed my lips, and for
+two days previous to that an occasional bite of bread and cheese was
+my only ration. Even now I was not destined to receive the nourishment
+my body craved for; for one basin of soup per day was all I received
+during the remainder of that week.
+
+Still grasping my bottle of water under my blanket, I was removed next
+morning and placed in a freight truck with two others, one a sergeant
+in the Guards, and the other a private in the ----, London Regiment.
+We were locked in the truck, and kept there for many hours without
+food or conveniences of any kind, and finally arrived at St. Quentin.
+
+Some one removed the blanket from my face and examined my
+shoulder-straps. I heard him say "Hauptmann," and after that I seemed
+to be treated with some consideration.
+
+I did not understand a single word of German, and the repetition of
+this word puzzled me. It must have been some connection with my rank.
+I would try it on the next person who came near me and see what
+happened.
+
+I had not long to wait, for by and by the stretchers were lifted and
+we were carried into the hospital at St. Quentin. I was placed
+alongside a large number of others, and the place created a very
+unpleasant impression of the attention I was likely to receive.
+
+The place seemed like Bedlam. All round me I heard the groans and
+cries of the wounded. How long would I be left here unattended? How I
+longed to have my clothes removed! And what of my wound--how much
+longer must I go before it was attended to? And what was happening to
+it all this time?
+
+I heard some voices near me speaking in German. Now was the time I
+would test that magic word, and see what would happen. Removing the
+blankets from my face, and lifting my arm to attract attention, I
+whispered hoarsely:
+
+"Hauptmann!"
+
+Some one stooped down over me, examined my shoulder-strap, and said,
+"Huhzo!" He then gave an order, and my stretcher was again picked up,
+and I was carried up-stairs to a room reserved for officers.
+
+That "Open Sesame" served me in good stead on several occasions.
+
+But the hospital at St. Quentin was a horrible place. There was a
+Frenchman in the ward who was raving mad, and between his yells and
+shrieks of laughter, the moaning of the wounded, and the fitful
+awakenings from my own delirium I spent a most unhappy time. I think I
+must have been there about two days, and on the morning after my
+arrival I was sensible for a while.
+
+Adjoining the ward and only separated by an open doorway was the
+operating-room, where first operations were taking place hurriedly.
+The scene was something I can never forget. One by one we were being
+taken in, and the shrieks of pain which followed were too shocking for
+description. To hear strong men howl with pain is agonising enough;
+but to hear them shriek, and for those shrieks to fall upon the ears
+of nerve-broken men awaiting their turn just outside the open door was
+terrifying, appalling.
+
+As the shrieks subsided into weakened groans the stretcher would come
+back into the ward, and the next man be moved in; and so we waited in
+an agony of suspense, horror, and dread as nearer and nearer we came
+to our turn.
+
+I do not wish to harrow my readers' feelings any more by describing
+how I felt when my stretcher was at last lifted and I was laid on the
+operating-table. I could not see the bloodiness of my surroundings,
+but I murmured to myself, as I had occasion to do on subsequent and
+similar occasions:
+
+"Thank God I'm blind."
+
+There was a nurse at St. Quentin whose devotion and humanity will be
+long remembered by the many British and French wounded officers who
+have passed through that ward. In my half-dazed condition I seemed to
+have an idea that she was some sort of angel, whose gentle voice and
+comforting words were so soothing to the wounded, and inspired us with
+confidence in our painful conditions and surroundings.
+
+On Friday, still greedily hugging my bottle of water, I was removed
+from St. Quentin and placed in a hospital-train bound for Hanover. I
+was told it was a splendidly appointed train, with every modern
+appliance.
+
+The journey to Hanover occupied two days and two nights, but I
+remember nothing of it, as I believe I was unconscious the whole time.
+
+I do remember just before leaving being presented with a haversack
+from the French Red Cross Society, and it was full of things which
+were extremely useful: a sleeping-shirt, handkerchiefs, biscuits, and
+similar articles. I have the haversack still. I carried it wherever I
+went in Germany, and never allowed it to leave my possession.
+
+On Sunday morning, September 17, the train pulled into Hanover, and
+the wounded were carried out and left for a time on the platform.
+
+Some girls seemed to be busy giving refreshment to the wounded. A girl
+came to my stretcher, pulled down the blanket which covered my face,
+and clumsily pushed the spout of a drinking-cup, containing coffee,
+into my mouth. I thought she was trying to feed me from some kind of
+teapot. The pot fell out of my mouth, and the coffee ran down my neck.
+
+A man picked it up, and holding it to my lips, enabled me to sip it. I
+felt very grateful to him, for I was badly in need of sustenance. He
+spoke to me very kindly.
+
+I thanked him in a whisper, and asked him if he was an officer.
+
+He replied in English: "No, I am a waiter."
+
+I think I became unconscious again. Rather unfortunate, for had I been
+stronger the humour of the remark would have amused me.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXI
+
+ALIVE
+
+
+It was the first night after my arrival at Hanover that I really fully
+recovered a state of consciousness.
+
+Although I have recorded several incidents of the week which had just
+passed, they were only occasional glimpses from which I would relapse
+again into unconsciousness, and it only comes back to me in a hazy
+sort of way, like dreams through a long night of sleep.
+
+But I remember well the moment when I finally awoke and took in my
+surroundings. It was early in the morning. I seemed to have had
+frightful dreams; the horror of what I had passed through had been a
+frightful nightmare, mocking at me, laughing at me, blowing me to
+pieces.
+
+I turned over on my side. Strange place this shell-hole; it seemed
+very comfortable. What was this I was touching--a pillow, bedclothes.
+Good God! I was in a bed! As my thoughts became clearer I lay
+perfectly still, almost in fear that any movement I might make would
+awaken me from this beautiful dream.
+
+A long, long time ago something frightful had happened from which
+rescue was impossible. Yet, surely this was a bed.
+
+Then I remembered the attack which had taken place over my body while
+I lay out in No Man's Land; of the shells which had burst around me in
+violent protest to my presence. I could not possibly have escaped; I
+must be maimed.
+
+Cautiously I began to feel my limbs, my arms, my body, my feet, my
+fingers; they were all there, untouched. The whole truth dawned upon
+me: My God! I was alive!
+
+I sat up in my bed; I wanted to shout and dance for joy. There was a
+bandage round my head: I was blind! Yes, I knew that, but there was
+nothing really the matter with me except that. The mere fact of being
+only blind seemed in comparison a luxury.
+
+I was blind! But joy indescribable--what was that triviality--I was
+alive! alive!
+
+Oh, my! I never knew before that life was so wonderful. Did other
+people understand what life was? No; you must be dead to understand
+what life was worth. I must tell every one how wonderful it all is.
+
+But where was I? I could hear no guns--a bed? There were no beds at
+the front. I couldn't have dreamed it all; it must have been true;
+otherwise I should have been able to see.
+
+Where then could I be? Oh, God! Yes, I know--I am a prisoner of war!
+
+But even this knowledge, which for the moment quieted me, could not
+suppress my exaltation. I was saved! I was alive! No pain racked my
+limbs; no terror prodded my brain.
+
+But I was weak and wasted. Oh, how weak I was! How hungry! But what of
+that, I was alive!
+
+And where was England--such a long, long way off. I must go there at
+once, this minute. No, I can't; I'm a prisoner.
+
+How miserable some people are who have no right to be. They cannot
+know how wonderful life is. Oh, how wonderful it is to die, and then
+to come to life again.
+
+I'm only blind! Just imagine it! What is that?--it's nothing at all,
+compared with life; and when I get well and strong I won't be a blind
+man.
+
+I may not recover my sight, but that doesn't matter a bit, I will
+laugh at it, defy it. I will carry on as usual; I will overcome it and
+live the life that has been given back to me.
+
+I will be happy, happier than ever. I'm in a bed alive. Oh, God! I am
+grateful!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXII
+
+BLINDNESS
+
+
+How reckless we are in referring to death! There are many people who
+would say they would prefer death to blindness; but the nearer the
+approach of death, the greater becomes the comparison between the
+finality of the one and the affliction of the other.
+
+Those men, however, who have faced death in many frightful forms, and
+dodged it; suffered the horrors of its approach, yet cheated it; who
+have waited for its inevitable triumph, then slipped from its grasp;
+who have lived with it for days, parrying its thrust, evading its
+clutch; yet feeling the irresistible force of its power; men who have
+suffered these horrors and escaped without more than the loss of even
+the wonderful gift of sight, can afford to treat this affliction in a
+lesser degree, holding the sanctity of life as a thing precious and
+sacred beyond all things.
+
+Even the loss of God's great gift of sight ceases to become a burden
+or affliction in comparison with the indescribable joy of life
+snatched from death.
+
+There are men, and we know them by the score, who are constantly
+looking out on life through the darkened windows of a dissatisfied
+existence; whose conscience is an enemy to their own happiness; who
+look only on the dark side of life, made darker by their own
+disposition.
+
+Such men, and you can pick them out by their looks and expression, who
+build an artificial wall of trouble, to shut out the natural paradise
+of existence; these men who juggle with the joy of life until they
+feel they would sooner be dead, do not know, and do not realise the
+meaning of the life and death with which they trifle.
+
+Let us think only of the glory of life; not of the trivial penalties
+which may be demanded of us in payment, and which we are so apt to
+magnify until we wonder whether the great gift of life is really worth
+while.
+
+Let us think not of our disadvantages, but of these great gifts which
+we are fortunate enough to possess; let us school ourselves to a high
+sense of gratitude for the gifts we possess, and even an affliction
+becomes easy to bear.
+
+Here I am, thirty-six years of age, in the pride of health, strength,
+and energy, and suddenly struck blind!
+
+And what are my feelings? Even such a seeming catastrophe does not
+appall me. I can no longer drive, run, or follow any of the vigorous
+sports, the love for which is so insistent in healthy manhood. I shall
+miss all these things, yet I am not depressed.
+
+Am I not better off, after all, than he who was born blind? With the
+loss of my sight I have become imbued with the gift of appreciation.
+What is my inconvenience compared with the affliction of being
+sightless from birth.
+
+For thirty-six years I had become accustomed to sights of the world,
+and now, though blind, I can walk in the garden in a sunny day; and my
+imagination can see it and take in the picture.
+
+I can talk to my friends, knowing what they look like, and by their
+conversation read the expression on their faces. I can hear the
+traffic of a busy thoroughfare, and my mind will recognise the scene.
+
+I can even go to the play; hear the jokes and listen to the songs and
+music, and understand what is going on without experiencing that
+feeling of mystery and wonder which must be the lot of him who has
+always been blind.
+
+And the greatest gift of all, my sense of gratitude, that after
+passing through death, I am alive!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIII
+
+THE WOMAN WHO WAITS
+
+THE TELEGRAPH BOY'S RAT-TAT. KILLED IN ACTION. WEEKS OF MOURNING
+
+
+Meanwhile, what was transpiring at home? What interpretation had been
+put upon my absence?
+
+Many weeks later, after my first letter had reached home like a
+message from the dead, a post-card was handed to me from my father,
+which seemed to echo the sob of a broken heart. It was the first
+message to arrive from the England I loved so much, and my home, which
+I yearned for.
+
+Letters from every member of my family were hastening towards me; but
+all were delayed except the single post-card, which told me only too
+plainly of the tragedy at home which was the result of my absence.
+
+The message, written in a shaky hand, ran briefly, thus: "My son, for
+four weeks we have mourned you as dead; God bless you!"
+
+In the despair of my heart my blindness and my bonds of captivity
+seemed to grow greater. In that simple message I realised the terrible
+truth, the full significance of the tragedy which had followed my
+fall.
+
+What had been my suffering to theirs? After all I was a soldier, and
+mine was a duty. But those who wait at home--what of them?
+
+The letters which followed confirmed my worst fears. I trembled and
+cried like a child.
+
+How brave they had all been! How unworthy seemed my life to warrant
+the heroic fortitude and silent suffering which these letters
+unfolded! What were a few bullets compared with the pluck and silent
+self-sacrifice of the women of Britain, who were untrained to bear
+such shocks? What physical pain could compare with such anguish as
+theirs?
+
+The first intimation reached my home by a letter returned from France,
+undelivered, and bearing a slip containing these words, type-written:
+"Killed in action September 9."
+
+Three days later a knock at the door, and a telegraph boy handed in a
+telegram which read:
+
+ "Most deeply regret inform you Cap. H.G. Nobbs ---- London
+ Regiment, Killed in Action Sep. 9."
+
+and also another telegram:
+
+ "The King & Queen deeply regret loss you and the Army have
+ sustained by the death of Cap. Nobbs, in the service of his
+ Country. Their Majestys deeply sympathise with you in your
+ sorrow.
+
+ "KEEPER OF THE PRIVY PURSE."
+
+Next morning my name appeared in the official casualty list under the
+heading: "Killed in Action."
+
+Letters followed from the front confirming my death, and even
+describing the manner of my death.
+
+Such things are unavoidable in modern warfare; and only those who
+understand the conditions and the difficulties can appreciate the
+possibility of avoiding occasional errors. It is surprising to me that
+the errors in reporting casualties are not more frequent, and it
+speaks well of the care given by those responsible for this task.
+
+It is extremely difficult, and occasional mistakes are only too apt to
+be widely advertised and give a wrong impression. Think of the task of
+the hundreds and thousands of casualties; and the errors, terrible
+though the suffering entailed may be, are comparatively insignificant.
+
+But I have led the reader away from my story.
+
+They thought me dead. Yes; killed in action. There was no getting away
+from it; no need for me to describe the tears and sorrow. Those who
+suffer must bear their sorrow in silence--more honour to them.
+
+Obituary notices appeared in the newspapers, and letters and telegrams
+of condolence poured in.
+
+My solicitors took possession of my belongings and explained their
+contents to my family.
+
+A firm of photographers who generously invite officers to have their
+portraits taken free of charge, now offered the plate for a
+consideration to the illustrated papers; and even as I write these
+lines many months later, my picture is dished up again in this week's
+issue of an illustrated magazine as among the dead.
+
+In short, during those few weeks which followed my fall, I became as
+dead and completely buried as modern conventions demanded.
+
+It is expensive to die and not be dead, for clothes of mourning cannot
+afterwards be hidden under any other disguises; and it is a peculiar
+feeling to be called upon to pay for your own funeral expenses.
+
+And when once you are officially dead it is very difficult to come
+officially to life again. Months have passed, and I am still waiting
+for the official correction to appear.
+
+As I walk through the streets of London my friends stare at me as
+though I were a ghost. I feel as though I am a living apology for the
+mistake of others.
+
+To the illustrated magazine I have just referred to I wrote assuring
+the editor that I had every reason to believe he was wrong in his
+contention. He replied, enclosing my photograph, and asking me if I
+was sure I was not some other person, as the picture referred to an
+officer who was surely dead.
+
+Perhaps even now I am wrong. Yet, I ought to know.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIV
+
+WARD 43, RESERVE LAZARETTE 5, HANOVER
+
+OCCUPANTS OF THE WARD. CHIVALRY OF THE AIR
+
+
+Before the war Reserve Lazarette 5 at Hanover was a military school.
+It is now used for wounded military prisoners, and for German soldiers
+suffering from venereal disease.
+
+The same operating-room is used for all patients; the wounded
+prisoners receiving treatment in the morning, and the Germans in the
+afternoon.
+
+There is a fair-sized garden, not unattractive, and the wounded are
+permitted to take the fresh air, and to walk about freely, if they are
+able to do so. So are the German patients, and so are their visitors,
+on Tuesdays and Saturdays, from 2 till 4 in the afternoon. There is no
+separation of the two classes of patients, and honour must share the
+company of disgrace in her captivity.
+
+Ward 43 was a billiard-room in the old days, and the small-sized
+billiard-table is pushed against the wall and used as a table. There
+were nine beds in the ward; and four British and four French officers
+lay side by side in captivity.
+
+The friendship of the two great nations was reflected in the maimed
+and pain-ridden bodies of these soldiers lying side by side, helpless,
+uncomplaining, but still champions of Anglo-French unity. Their cause
+is the same; their pain is the same; and side by side they lay, as
+side by side they had fallen.
+
+Of the French officers I got to know but little, for they could speak
+no English, and the English could speak no French.
+
+On my left was an officer of the Royal Flying Corps, Lieutenant
+Donelly. He had been brought to earth after a fight thirteen thousand
+feet in the air, against five German planes. With his left arm
+disabled and three fingers shot off his right hand, and his engine out
+of action, he nose-dived to the ground. A German aeroplane nose-dived
+after him, all the while firing as it dropped.
+
+With only a finger and thumb to manipulate his machine, he managed to
+effect a landing. The moment earth was struck the firing ceased, and
+the Germans landing from their machines approached him and treated him
+courteously.
+
+There is a spirit of chivalry among those who fight in the air, as
+both sides can testify. The air alone is their arena, and neither side
+will continue a combat on terra firma.
+
+On my right was Lieutenant Rogan of the Royal Irish Regiment, a sturdy
+fellow, who had been in the Guards.
+
+He was attacking some Germans, who were putting up a stout resistance
+during the fight for Guinchy; and as he was rushing forward, a German
+threw a hand-grenade, which exploded in his face. His right eye was
+removed at St. Quentin, and he was slowly recovering the sight of the
+left.
+
+In the bed next to his was another young officer of the Royal Flying
+Corps, a boy about eighteen, very small, and only weighing about eight
+stone. Mabbitt was his name, Second Lieutenant Mabbitt; and he, too,
+had fought many thousand feet in the air against desperate odds,
+fracturing his leg in the fall.
+
+German airmen seem to make a practice of waiting until a single
+English aeroplane appears in sight; then they ascend in a flight of
+five to attack, and woe betide the English airman who happens to be
+soaring above in a slow machine.
+
+Deeds of pluck are common on land and sea; but the heroic combats in
+the air are a new sensation, with unknown terrors realised in a single
+gasp; and the youth of our country defy it. Yet, who is there to tell
+their deeds if they fall?
+
+Shortly after I arrived two British officers were brought in,
+Lieutenant Wishart of the Canadians, who had a bullet wound through
+his leg; and Second Lieutenant Parker, who had a hole in his leg as
+big as an apple, and who spent most of the day in declaring that he
+was as fit as a fiddle.
+
+But the occupant of the remaining bed was one who endeared himself to
+the hearts of all. He was SANIEZ (pronounced Sanyea), our orderly. But
+Saniez must have a chapter to himself.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXV
+
+SANIEZ
+
+
+Reserve Lazarette 5, Hanover, boasted of no hospital nurses. There was
+no tender touch of a feminine hand to administer to the comfort and
+alleviate the distress of the wounded. There was no delicate and
+nourishing diet to strengthen the weak; neither did we expect it. We
+were prisoners of war, and though our sufferings were great, we were
+still soldiers.
+
+But those who have passed through Ward 43 will always look back with
+gratitude and admiration on one whose unselfish devotion, tender care,
+and magnificent spirit was an example and inspiration to all of us.
+
+His name was Saniez, the orderly in charge of the ward; a Florence
+Nightingale, whose unceasing attention day and night, whose tender
+watchfulness and devoted care and kindness made him loved and
+worshipped by the maimed and helpless prisoners who were placed under
+his charge.
+
+Saniez was no ordinary man. No reward was his, except the heartfelt
+gratitude of those whom he tended. The wounded who passed through the
+ward left behind a debt of gratitude which could never be paid, and
+with a spirit of fortitude and courage created by his noble example.
+
+There are compensations for all suffering; and no greater compensation
+could any wish for than the devotion of Saniez.
+
+Saniez had suffered too, but would never speak of it. He had his
+moments of anguish and despair. He had a home, too; but his dreams he
+kept to himself, and his care he gave to others.
+
+Saniez was a Frenchman, a big, burly artilleryman, with eyes bright,
+laughing, and sympathetic.
+
+He had been captured nearly two years before; and suffered severely
+from the effects of frozen feet. Yet, painful as it must have been to
+get about, he seldom sat down.
+
+All through those long days and nights weak voices would call him: it
+was always, "Saniez, Saniez!" and slop, slop, slop, we would hear him
+in his slippered feet, moving down the ward, attending to one and then
+another.
+
+Saniez would be quiet and sympathetic, with a voice soft and
+soothing; and the next moment, cheerful and boisterous. Captivity
+could not subdue Saniez, or make him anything else than a loyal French
+soldier.
+
+He would guard his patients against the clumsy touch of a German
+orderly like a tiger guarding its young. He would bribe or steal to
+obtain a little delicacy for his patients.
+
+He seemed to know but a single German word, which he used on every
+possible occasion to express his disgust of the Germans. It was a
+slang word, but when Saniez used it, its single utterance was a volume
+of expression. It was NIX, and when Saniez said nix, I knew he was
+shaking his woolly head in disgust.
+
+Saniez had a marvellous voice, and when he sang he held us
+spell-bound, and he knew it. I do not speak French, and could not
+understand his words, but his expression was wonderful; and he would
+fling his arms about in frantic gesticulation.
+
+When Saniez sang he seemed to lift himself into a different
+atmosphere; he was back again in France; his songs all seemed about
+his country and his home. He seemed to rouse himself into a sudden
+spirit of defiance, and then his voice would grow soft and pathetic;
+and then slop, slop, slop, in his slippered feet, he would hurry off
+to a bedside to fix a bandage or administer a drink of water.
+
+Every morning German soldiers could be heard marching past our
+windows, singing their national songs. We listened; Saniez would stop
+his work. What we wanted to say we would leave to Saniez, as broom in
+hand and eyes of fire he would wait until their voices died away in
+the distance, and then, with a fierce shake of his head he would
+shout: "Boche! Nix!" and, flinging his arms about his head, would sing
+the "Marseillaise."
+
+One evening, and I remember it well, though no pen of mine can
+adequately describe the soul-stirring picture--we had a concert in
+Ward 43. Four British and four French officers--a symbol of the
+Entente Cordiale--lay side by side in their cots, while convalescent
+prisoners from other wards sat in front to cheer them with song and
+music.
+
+The Allies seemed well represented: An English Tommy with a guitar
+sang a comic song; a Russian soldier with a three-cornered string
+instrument, sang a folk-song of his native land; a Belgian soldier
+played the violin; and Saniez sang for France.
+
+The applause that greeted the finish of each song was of a mixed kind;
+for those whose arms were maimed would shout, and those who could not
+shout would bang a chair or clap their hands. It was a patriotic and
+inspiring scene, and even the German orderly, coming in to see what
+was going on, was tempted to stop and listen.
+
+We felt we were no longer prisoners; the spirit of the Allies was
+unconquerable.
+
+Enthusiasm reached its highest pitch when Saniez brought it to a
+dramatic conclusion. Saniez had just finished a soul-inspiring song of
+his homeland. His audience could not withhold their applause until he
+finished, and Saniez could not restrain his spirit until the end of
+the applause. He suddenly threw up his arms, and at the top of his
+voice burst forth into the "Marseillaise," and the German orderly
+bolted out of the door.
+
+Then the concert party ran to their dormitories; the lights were
+turned out, and we sought safety in sleep.
+
+ [Illustration: Captain Nobbs after his release from the German
+ prison.]
+
+We used to ask Saniez about his home; and he seemed to grow quiet and
+confident. His home, he said, was about three miles behind the German
+line.
+
+Some one suggested that it was in a dangerous place, as the British
+were advancing, and no house near the line could escape untouched; but
+Saniez was confident.
+
+No! shells could not possibly harm it. His wife and sister lived
+there; it was his home. He was a prisoner, but whatever happened to
+him, the combined fury of the nations could not touch his home.
+
+Saniez! Saniez! May you never awaken from your dream!
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVI
+
+LIFE IN HANOVER HOSPITAL
+
+HOSPITAL DIET. INTERVIEWED BY A GERMAN DOCTOR. DISCHARGED FROM
+HOSPITAL
+
+
+The diet in hospital can hardly be described as suitable for invalids.
+At the same time it was substantial as compared with what is received
+in prison camps. For breakfast we received coffee, with two very
+small, crusty rolls, each about the size of a tangerine orange; each
+roll cut in half, and a slight suspicion of jam placed between; for
+déjeuner one cup of coffee, one roll, and some very strong cheese,
+quite unfit to eat. The dinner was usually quite good, consisting of
+soup, a little meat and vegetables, and stewed apples or gooseberries.
+At 3 o'clock a cup of coffee and a small roll; at 6 o'clock supper,
+consisting of tea without milk, strong cheese, or German sausage or
+brawn, and a slice of bread.
+
+For this diet we paid eighty marks per month.
+
+An officer receives pay from the German Government on the following
+scale: lieutenant, sixty marks per month; captain, one hundred marks
+per month. The German Government recover the payments from the English
+Government, and it is charged against the officers' pay in England.
+
+No food is supplied free to officers either in hospital or camp; and
+they cannot purchase anything beyond the regular issue.
+
+With the exception of the dinner, I found the food of very little use
+to me for the first week or two, as having lost the power in my jaw,
+and being unable to open it more than half an inch, I couldn't tackle
+the rolls, and what couldn't be eaten had to be left; there was no
+substitute.
+
+There was another diet, in which the coffee was replaced by hot milk,
+which would have been very desirable, except that the dinner consisted
+of some filthy substance, which was very unpalatable.
+
+For the first week, therefore, I had practically only one meal a day,
+the dinner; but afterwards, by dint of changing from one diet to
+another I managed to get the dinner of No. 1 diet, and the milk of No.
+2.
+
+There was a canteen in the hospital where cigarettes, chocolates,
+biscuits, and eggs were offered for sale.
+
+The biscuits were never in stock; the chocolate, though high in price,
+was so thin that there was nothing of it; and the cigarettes were
+unsmokable.
+
+It was a sorry day when we could get no more eggs. We used to depend
+upon the eggs for supper; for the cheese was uneatable, the brawn
+suspicious, and the sausage like boiled linoleum. German sausage at
+the best of time is open to argument; but German sausage in a country
+which has been blockaded for two and a half years is worthy of serious
+thought.
+
+The surgical attention was good, though the Russian prisoners who
+assisted were apt to be rough; and as neither the German doctor nor
+his Russian assistant could understand each other, and the wounded
+could understand neither, nor be understood in turn, the situation was
+sometimes difficult.
+
+The doctor visited each bed at 8 A.M. every morning to inquire the
+condition of the wounded; but whatever you had to say--which of course
+he did not understand--the reply was always: "Goot, Goot."
+
+On one occasion we saw flags flying over the city, and that evening
+for supper we were given a hard-boiled egg. We were told it was the
+Empress's birthday. We made anxious inquiries as to when the Kaiser
+and the Crown Prince would have a birthday.
+
+A few days after I arrived at Hanover, my right eye was removed, and
+the following day the doctor told me, through an interpreter, that I
+should be sent back to England. I asked when I should be sent, and was
+told in three or four weeks.
+
+It was about this time that I began to develop an unsatiable appetite
+for sweet things. I have found that many have had the same experience,
+after a period of privation following upon their wounds. I would buy
+up all the jam, chocolate, and toffy I could lay my hands on, which
+came in parcels to other prisoners. When I wrote home for parcels to
+be sent to me, I hardly mentioned food, which afterwards became so
+necessary, but asked for sweet stuff.
+
+But what I needed more urgently than anything else was money. When I
+was picked up the only cash I had on me was two francs, and this I
+exchanged for a mark and sixty pfennigs, which, with five marks I was
+able to borrow, kept me going for a while. But it was soon gone, and I
+found myself without a sou, and no pay due for six weeks.
+
+About ten days after I arrived at Hanover I was able to sit out in the
+garden, and from then on I began to mend.
+
+Saniez used to dress me, and his watchful eye was upon me wherever I
+went.
+
+Sometimes of an afternoon I used to sit by the fire. I used to like
+sitting by the fire, because its warmth misled me into thinking I
+could distinguish the light. If I happened to be rather quiet Saniez
+would come to my side, and I would feel that he was watching me. Then
+he would speak, and each would find some word to make the other
+understand:
+
+"Cigarette, Capitaine?"
+
+"Oui, Saniez."
+
+He would take one of his own cigarettes, put it in my mouth and light
+it.
+
+I could neither taste nor smell it; but it pleased Saniez, so I took
+it.
+
+"Très bien, Capitaine, puff, puff!"
+
+"Oui, Saniez, très bien."
+
+"Très bien, good. Monsieur Parker says, 'Trays beens.' Joke, ah, good
+joke!"
+
+He would go away, but still watching me from a distance, would
+presently come back again, and placing his large hand on my shoulder,
+would say:
+
+"Couche, Capitaine?" and leading me to my bed would lay me on it, and
+carefully tuck me in for the night.
+
+There was a German non-commissioned officer employed in the hospital
+who was really a good sort. He could speak good English, having worked
+in English hotels before the war.
+
+He would sometimes sit by my bed for a chat:
+
+"Where were you wounded, Captain?" he asked one day.
+
+"Leuze Wood on the Somme," I replied.
+
+"Somme dreadful place, dreadful war, Captain."
+
+"Very!"
+
+"It is not fighting now; it is murder, both sides murder--yah."
+
+"Have you been to the front yet?"
+
+"No; don't want to, either; don't like soldiering. German people sick
+of war; but got to do what we are told. Captain, you and I could
+settle it in five minutes."
+
+"I'm not so sure; it's nearly settled me."
+
+As the weeks passed by I began anxiously and earnestly to wait for
+news of my exchange; but three weeks went, and the fourth and fifth
+week passed, and still no news. About the seventh week Saniez burst
+into the ward one morning and rushed up to my bed.
+
+"Bon jour, Capitaine. Good, good! Office, quick," and he began
+hurriedly dressing me.
+
+I was to report to the office at once. I had been waiting for this,
+and dreaming of this moment for weeks.
+
+Saniez knew it too, and as I went through the door I heard him shout:
+
+"Angleterre, Capitaine; très bien!"
+
+I waited outside the office for about half an hour. Wishart of the
+Canadians was inside, and presently he came out to fetch me:
+
+"They want to see you inside. Who do you think is in there?"
+
+"I don't know--who?"
+
+"Doctor Pohlmann. He supervises all the prison camps belonging to the
+Tenth Army. We've got to go to a prisoners' camp."
+
+My hopes were dashed to the ground.
+
+Ho led me in, and I sat down before Doctor Pohlmann, who spoke
+excellent English, and explained that he was a doctor of languages.
+
+He filled up a form, taking from me particulars of my name, regiment,
+and the usual details; and then, turning to Wishart, told him to go.
+
+I began to feel that I was in for a rough time. Why did Doctor
+Pohlmann wish to speak to me alone.
+
+I sat before him in silence, too disappointed at the turn events had
+taken to care what happened. But as soon as the door had closed he
+turned towards me, and his remarks surprised me beyond measure. Not a
+single question did he put to me to elicit information.
+
+"Captain, you are quite blind?"
+
+"Yes, quite."
+
+"I am sorry; I did not know you were blind."
+
+He seemed quite sympathetic. Not that I wanted it from him, yet so
+relieved was I to escape cross-examination that I felt quite bucked.
+
+He continued: "The hospital people say you are ready to be sent away.
+When you leave here you come under my charge. They did not tell me you
+were blind. I have no proper place to put you; I do not know where to
+send you."
+
+"If you will allow me, I can suggest a place."
+
+"Ah, yes, I know, England. Of course you will be sent there in time,
+but in the meantime I must take charge of you. I will send you
+wherever you like. You can choose your own camp. What camp would you
+like to go to?"
+
+"What camps have you got?"
+
+"I have Gottisleau, Osnabruck, Blenhorst."
+
+"Well, it's very good of you to give me the choice; but they all sound
+alike to me. How can I choose?"
+
+"Have you any friends in either of them?"
+
+"Well, really the names are unintelligible; I couldn't even repeat
+them. Lieutenant Rogan was sent away last week. Where did he go?"
+
+"Ah, he went to Osnabruck. Good camp! Good commandant! I will send you
+and Wishart there, and I will arrange to put you three in one room
+together. If I can do anything for you at any time, let me know."
+
+The interview was over. He was a plausible fellow, and he probably
+knew his job.
+
+When I was getting ready to leave the hospital Saniez insisted on
+packing my clothes himself. I thought nothing about it at the time,
+but when I unpacked my clothes in camp I found concealed inside a
+small packet of sugar. Then I understood Saniez.
+
+Wishart and I were told we could either walk to the station or pay for
+the hire of a motor-car. We rode to the station, laughing and talking,
+and smoking cigars which we obtained from the canteen.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVII
+
+OBSERVATIONS AND IMPRESSIONS
+
+EMPLOYMENT OF PRISONERS. PARCELS. MEN OF MONS
+
+
+When I first became aware that there was a probability of my being
+exchanged I set to work to gather what information I could.
+
+I came into contact with a good many private soldiers, and in
+conversation with them I became deeply interested in the commercial
+value of prisoners of war; for it appeared to me clearly evident that
+in a country where there were over a million prisoners, possibilities
+were unlimited; and the German authorities appeared, with businesslike
+organisation, to be taking the fullest advantage of their
+opportunities.
+
+The unprecedented scale upon which prisoners have been made during the
+present war has opened up a problem unique in the annals of history.
+The more prisoners you take the more mouths you have to feed; and the
+greater becomes the man power necessary for their supervision.
+
+With the ever-increasing number of prisoners the problem grows in
+enormity, and can either develop into embarrassing proportions, or by
+scientific handling can be turned to advantage.
+
+In England for over two years we have herded our prisoners behind
+bayonets and barbed wire. The financial resources of the country have
+been poured out to feed idle hands, supplying food without repayment,
+at a time when the food and labour problems of the nation are becoming
+its most serious problems.
+
+For over two years we have allowed the question to slide into
+obscurity, until to-day in our own country the only part of the
+community which has no anxiety or participation in the problem of
+living and daily sustenance is the German prisoner in our midst; and
+yet to-day a large part of what should be our fighting power is kept
+from the firing-line to supply the needs of the nation and feed the
+mouths of our idle prisoners.
+
+It has never occurred to us, or if it has we have ignored it, that
+without contravening the law of nations, prisoners can be made to
+feed themselves, and be employed in any industry, provided they are
+not put to work connected with the war.
+
+It has never occurred to us that we have in our midst many of the
+trade secrets of a country which for generations has been our rival in
+commerce.
+
+It has never occurred to us that Germany has in her midst men who hold
+the trade secrets of our empire, and is learning them day by day by
+the employment of our men in her industries.
+
+If we neglect this problem any longer we may find that when the world
+resumes its normal trade activity Germany, on this point at any rate,
+will have scored a commercial victory.
+
+The nations of the world are at war. But the armies of to-day are
+civilian armies, comprising men of industrial and commercial
+education, and the prisoners of to-day are men of commercial and
+industrial value.
+
+Our adversaries have been quick to recognise this. We seem to be still
+imbued with the idea that the German soldier in our midst is simply a
+fighting machine!
+
+So he is. But when the time came for the civilian to take up arms and
+supplement the professional fighting force, there fell into our hands
+an industrial fighting machine in the guise of a military prisoner.
+
+We have the impression that a military prisoner is an individual whose
+one desire is to escape and jump at our throats; and that the safety
+of the nation compels us to stand over him with a bayonet and regard
+his every movement with suspicion.
+
+Yes, I do not deny that a very large number of prisoners in our midst
+would be glad to get back to their homeland, especially if there was
+no further prospect of having to face the British in the firing-line.
+But keep a man idle for months behind barbed wire, like an animal in a
+cage, and you encourage his desire to escape far more than if you
+diverted his mind by industrial employment.
+
+Have we not a barbed wire supplied by nature completely surrounding
+our country? Are we not on an island?
+
+I had many opportunities of talking with our men in Germany and of
+gaining information as to the manner in which the German authorities
+were taking advantage of the problem we avoid, or occupy our time in
+idle discussion.
+
+I will take one concrete example. In Hameln Lager the commandant has
+charge of 50,000 prisoners, of which 30,000 are "living out"! They are
+working out in commandos on the farms, in the factories, in the
+workshops; in large batches, small batches, and even singly.
+
+I met one man who had been employed alone in a wheelwright's shop. He
+was a wheelwright by trade. How many wheelwrights' shops are there in
+England which could do to-day with one of the wheelwrights we are
+keeping idle behind barbed wire?
+
+What information did that man's employer gain by the way the work was
+done? How simple the method of obtaining the labour: simply go to the
+labour bureau attached to the imprisonment camp nearest to your
+workshop, and ask for a wheelwright. You keep your industry going, and
+thus in the only practical way keep open the job for the man who is
+called to the colours.
+
+The employer pays the man no wages, but the local trade-union rate of
+wage is paid to the commandant who supplies him. Thirty thousand
+prisoners from a single camp contributing to the industry of the
+nation, and the wages of 30,000 prisoners contributing to the cost of
+the war. The prisoner receives through the commandant 30 pfennigs
+(3d.) per day, and is glad of the employment.
+
+A very large number of prisoners are employed as agricultural
+labourers, and it is quite reasonable to suppose that all the food
+supplied to the prisoners, such as it is, is grown by prisoner labour.
+
+I was told by men who had worked on farms that they were compelled to
+work from 4 in the morning until 9 at night. In some cases only one or
+two were employed on small farms.
+
+I asked those men why they did not embrace the opportunity to make
+their escape. But they said that while the work was hard they
+preferred it; as they lived with the farmer, who treated them well if
+they worked well. They ate at the farmer's table, and had no
+non-commissioned officers to bully them; whereas, if they attempted to
+escape and were caught they would be sent to work in the mines or
+other equally unpopular task.
+
+Large numbers are employed in the sugar-refineries, coal-mines, and
+salt-mines, the latter task being the most dreaded; for with the food
+they were given their health broke down within a few months.
+
+The English prisoner said that when the party he was with first
+arrived at the mine and saw what they had to do they refused to work.
+Their guard thereupon threatened them, and when they still refused
+they were taken outside one by one, and the remainder would hear a
+shot fired, and then another would be taken out.
+
+It was a fake. The men could not be intimidated, and they were sent
+back to the Lager.
+
+It was on another occasion that the man I am referring to was put to
+work in the mine.
+
+I was asked by another if I knew anything about 200 German prisoners
+being sent back to work in France, because they were not allowed to
+work in England. He said that when the Germans heard about it they
+took 200 of our men from Doberitz camp and sent them to work in Poland
+as a reprisal.
+
+The work there may not have been very much harder, but it was a great
+hardship upon our men, because there would be a considerable delay in
+their parcels of food reaching them from England, and meantime they
+had to subsist on the scanty fare supplied by their captors.
+
+The men seemed to be getting parcels on a very liberal scale. Some
+were getting more than others, but they divided up by eating in messes
+of four or six, or some such number.
+
+I did not hear of many complaints of parcels being undelivered, though
+in some cases parcels were missed. But so far as I could ascertain
+they were not withheld in any deliberate or systematic manner; and
+when one comes to consider the enormous number handled and the
+probability of parcels getting lost through insecure packing, the
+number of complaints I heard of seemed comparatively insignificant.
+
+The Russian prisoners seemed to be the least provided for, and parcels
+for them were very rare. They lived or rather starved on the German
+rations; and when men have to work or remain in the open air all day
+such a ration was a form of torture.
+
+When the watery liquid of potato water called soup was issued from the
+kitchens fatigue parties were paraded to draw the issue for each
+mess.
+
+The British prisoners were not altogether dependent on this ration,
+and would let the Russian prisoners carry the dixy for them, and in
+return they would be given a cup of soup by the British Tommies. So
+hungry were the Russians for this little "extra" that hundreds of them
+would wait for hours in the cold on the off-chance of a few getting
+the job.
+
+One cannot speak with these British Tommies and hear of their
+hardships without feeling a profound admiration for their indomitable
+spirit. You can take a British soldier prisoner, send him far from the
+protection of his country, but he is British wherever he goes and his
+courage and resourcefulness cannot be broken.
+
+Whenever I met a man who had been a prisoner since the beginning of
+the war, I made a point of getting his story to ascertain the truth
+about the barbarities I had read of.
+
+There was no mistaking these men. I could not see them but I seemed
+instinctively to recognise, and whether it was my imagination or not I
+cannot tell; but their manner seemed distinctive and they spoke like
+men who had suffered much and were harbouring a just grievance, and
+lived for the day when they would revenge themselves. As one man put
+it to me:
+
+"If we ever see a German in England when we get back we will kill
+him."
+
+These men were taken at Mons; captured, most of them, by sacrificing
+themselves in rear-guard fighting to save the main British army.
+
+These men have been in captivity for two and a half years. Just think
+of it! But do we think of it enough, or have we forgotten it?
+
+The British Tommy has an individuality which is not always understood.
+Ask him in an official way to give evidence of his treatment, and he
+will sit tight and say not a word. Take out your note-book to write
+down his evidence and he can think of nothing, but all the same he
+knows a lot.
+
+I know this to be true; for after I was exchanged I spoke to a soldier
+who had been exchanged at the same time, and he said that a Government
+official had been round to question the men on the treatment they had
+received in Germany. During our conversation he told me that 200 of
+our men had been put to work in a Zeppelin factory. I asked him if he
+had given this in evidence, but he said:
+
+"No, not likely; they got nothing out of me."
+
+I asked him why not, for it was his duty. But he said they would only
+have asked him a lot more questions to try and tie him up in a knot.
+
+When I came across a soldier who was captured at the beginning of the
+war I used to invite him to my room when no one was about. We would
+sit in front of the fire and drink a cup of cocoa and smoke a pipe.
+
+I never asked him questions, but let him talk as he felt like it.
+There were generally one or two others in the room, and when we began
+to feel we knew each other and were chums together in adversity, he
+would tell his story in his own way.
+
+I met these men in Hanover Hospital, Osnabruck camp, and Blenhorst
+camp. I will not publish their names for fear of paining their
+relatives; but I have their names and the names of witnesses who heard
+the stories, which I will relate in my next chapter.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXVIII
+
+STORIES OF THE HEROES OF MONS
+
+
+The statements which follow, and which were made to me while I was a
+prisoner of war in Germany, are not from picked soldiers who happened
+to have sensational stories. They were the only men whom I met who
+were prisoners in the early days.
+
+Being blind myself, I could not, of course, see the men I was speaking
+to, but their tone impressed me very much as being men who had
+suffered in silence.
+
+It was necessary for me to study very carefully what they said and
+impress it on my memory; and I have committed their statements to
+writing immediately on my release, for to carry written statements
+over the frontier was entirely out of the question.
+
+I have put down nothing which was not told to me; neither have I tried
+to embellish or enlarge upon the statements made, or frame the words
+of the men in any way that might give an exaggerated impression of
+what occurred.
+
+It is quite possible, however, that one or two incidents which I have
+reported from one man may be part of the story of one of the others.
+But it can be taken as an absolute fact that, taken as a whole, the
+statements are a true recital of these men's own description of their
+experience.
+
+The men were in no way excited. I obtained the information when
+chatting in the ordinary way over a pipe of tobacco, whenever the men
+had an opportunity of coming to my room to have a chat.
+
+ THE STORY OF PRIVATE ----, WEST KENT REGIMENT
+
+ "I was captured at Mons, sir. Been here over two years now.
+ Things are not so bad now as they were at first.
+
+ "I've seen some things which I shan't easily forget. I've been
+ keeping them to myself because we dare not talk of them.
+
+ "Some of the fellows have had a terrible time. When the war is
+ over any German who is met in England by any prisoners of war
+ will have a rough passage. There won't be any need to hold
+ ourselves back any longer. My goodness, sir, they'll never get
+ away alive!
+
+ "Not long after I was captured 70 English soldiers were taken
+ away from the Lager one day. They never knew where they were
+ going. They were taken to a munition factory; and when they found
+ out where they were they passed the word along to refuse to work.
+
+ "When the Germans told them what they had to do, they refused.
+ Their guards threatened them, and said it would be the worse for
+ them if they didn't; but they wouldn't budge.
+
+ "Then they were taken out and made to stand in a row against a
+ wall; and a firing-party was drawn up in front of them with
+ loaded rifles, but not one of them flinched.
+
+ "They were told that unless they went to work they would be shot,
+ and although the firing-party was standing in front of them not
+ one of them would budge.
+
+ "The threat was not carried out, and they were sent back to the
+ Lager.
+
+ "Before we started getting parcels we had a terrible time trying
+ to live on the food they gave us. All they gave us was a cup of
+ coffee and two slices of black bread in the morning; and for
+ dinner and supper a basin of hot potato water. It was so thin and
+ weak it was just like water that potatoes had been boiled in."
+
+The soldier whose statement is given above has since been exchanged to
+Switzerland, owing to an injury to his sight, caused by the work he
+was employed upon while a prisoner.
+
+
+ THE STORY OF PRIVATE ---- OF THE LEICESTER REGIMENT
+
+ "I was captured during the retreat in August, 1914.
+
+ "My Company was left behind as a rear-guard, to enable the rest
+ of the battalion to get away. Our trench was only about two feet
+ deep. Although the Germans were coming on very fast and in
+ enormous numbers, we were not allowed to retire.
+
+ "The Germans charged us three times. We lost all our officers,
+ and although we kept on fighting they came on in such large
+ numbers it must have been the main body, for they were all round
+ us, and most of the fellows were killed or wounded.
+
+ "They had their revenge on us, too, when they got us, for the
+ German soldiers who were told to look after us did terrible
+ things. They took us one by one and made us run the gauntlet.
+
+ "I was bruised all over when I got through, and so were the other
+ fellows.
+
+ "One chap when he was running the gauntlet was struck in the face
+ by the butt of a rifle; his nose was smashed and his face covered
+ in blood, and he fell to the ground insensible. They threw him in
+ a ditch, because they thought he was dead; but he was able to
+ crawl out next morning.
+
+ "It was awful, that first night, and they didn't know what to do
+ with us. They made us stand the whole night through in a loose
+ wire entanglement, so that we couldn't walk about or sit down;
+ and it rained like anything all night long.
+
+ "Then we were put in cattle trucks and sent into Germany, and for
+ the first two days they did not give us any food or water.
+
+ "On the second day we stopped at a station and a woman came
+ towards us with a large can of soup, and we thought we were
+ going to be fed; but she brought it right up to us, and said:
+ 'Ugh, dirty Englanders,' and poured it on to the line.
+
+ "I was taken to Soltau Lager; and the food they gave us consisted
+ of a cup of acorn coffee in the morning and a small piece of
+ black bread, which had to last all day, and wouldn't make more
+ than two good slices.
+
+ "For dinner we got a basin of very thin potato soup; sometimes we
+ got a potato in it, and sometimes we didn't. For supper we got a
+ cup of coffee, and we were supposed to make the bread do for both
+ breakfast and supper.
+
+ "The prisoners were sent out from Soltau in working parties to
+ farmers, factories, and coal mines and salt mines. The salt mines
+ were dreaded most, and fellows who had been working there for two
+ or three months looked dreadful. In fact, they could not keep up
+ there longer than that; they got too ill.
+
+ "I was sent into a salt mine myself. The hours are not long,
+ because it is impossible to stay down many hours at a time, and
+ we were generally brought up about one o'clock. They did not
+ keep me in the mine long, because they found I was of no use for
+ the work.
+
+ "It's not so bad on the farms, although you have to work from
+ about 4 o'clock till 8 or 9 at night. But the food is better, as
+ you generally live at the farmer's table, and have the same as he
+ does.
+
+ "When prisoners are sent in working parties, the employers have
+ to pay the German Government the same wages he usually pays a
+ man, and the prisoners receive from the German Government 30
+ pfennings (about 3d.) per day."
+
+ "Did the American Consul ever visit the lager?" I asked.
+
+ "Yes, but only once when I was there."
+
+ "Were you free to make any complaints to him if you wished?"
+
+ "Two of the fellows did; but they got punished for it.
+
+ "Before he visited the lager a notice was put up that the
+ Commandant did not consider there was any reason for complaint,
+ and any man making a complaint would be given 14 days'
+ imprisonment.
+
+ "When he called we were drawn up on parade in four companies,
+ and stood to attention, while he passed down the line, asking if
+ there were any complaints.
+
+ "By his side was the Commandant and another German officer."
+
+ THE STORY OF PRIVATE ---- OF THE NORFOLK REGIMENT
+
+ "I came out with the original Expeditionary Force, and was in the
+ retreat from Mons, but was not captured until October, 1914.
+
+ "The German soldiers who captured me treated me quite well. They
+ gave me some of their rations, and allowed me to attend to our
+ wounded.
+
+ "I had just bandaged up the leg of a man in the Cheshire
+ Regiment, who had half his foot blown off, when all the prisoners
+ were ordered to the rear.
+
+ "A German officer came up and ordered us both to get back; but I
+ pointed out that the Cheshire man was too badly wounded to be
+ moved without help. He ordered me to undo the bandage, and when
+ he saw the condition of the wound, he drew his revolver and shot
+ him dead. He then ordered me to get back.
+
+ "We were then sent into Germany, and when we stopped at the
+ Railway Stations school children were paraded on the platform and
+ threw things at us.
+
+ "We were given nothing to eat, and at one station we appealed to
+ a clergyman, who spoke English; but he said that only German
+ soldiers should be fed, and turned away.
+
+ "I was sent to Hameln Lager. I was several times sent out with
+ working parties, and we were sometimes treated very roughly,
+ especially when there was only an under officer in charge of us.
+
+ "The job I liked best was working for a farmer. Sometimes you get
+ hold of a decent chap, who will treat you well, if you suit him.
+ The work is hard and the hours very long, but you live with the
+ family, and food is much better than what you get in camp;
+ especially as some of the farmers have food concealed.
+
+ "The under officers are very rough, and stop at nothing.
+
+ "There was a notice up in the lager which said that no man has
+ any right to refuse to work, and that only the laws of the
+ Imperial German Government were recognised; and if any man
+ refused to do what he was told, the guards had authority to use
+ their rifles."
+
+ "Did they ever use them?" I asked.
+
+ "I never saw them myself; but a man came into the lager one day
+ who said that just before he was moved one of the men was being
+ badgered about by his guards, until he at last turned round and
+ knocked one down. The guards immediately ran their bayonets into
+ him, and he died next day.
+
+ "The American Consul visited our camp shortly afterwards, and
+ this man told him about it, and was informed the matter was
+ already known, and was being investigated. I do not know if
+ anything came of it.
+
+ "Another little trick which they used to employ to force men to
+ work in the mines and other places was to take them out one by
+ one under an armed guard. The rest of us would hear a shot fired,
+ and then they would take another; a shot would be fired, and so
+ on. But we soon got on to that, because we found it was a fake.
+
+ "About 100 men were taken away from the lager in the early part
+ of the war to work in a factory, but when they found it was a
+ munition factory they refused to work. They were each sentenced
+ to twelve or fifteen months' imprisonment. I know this for a
+ fact, because I have spoken to the men. They were very badly
+ treated, and one of them is in hospital to-day, insane."
+
+ THE STORY OF PRIVATE ---- OF THE MIDDLESEX REGIMENT, TOLD ME IN
+ BLENHURST CAMP
+
+ "I was at Soltau Lager for a long time before we came here. We
+ used to get one loaf of black bread a day (2 lbs.) between 10
+ men. The only food we got was some sort of coffee for breakfast,
+ and the same for supper. For dinner we had a basin of soup, which
+ was almost undrinkable, some thin washy stuff; occasionally we
+ got some potatoes.
+
+ "In the early part of the war there were about 60 of our fellows
+ sent to work in a munition factory. But when they got there and
+ saw what they had to do, they refused. They were threatened with
+ all kinds of things to make them work, and then they were lined
+ up against a wall, and a number of German soldiers stood in front
+ of them, and told them that if they didn't work, they would be
+ shot. Then they made a show of loading, and brought their rifles
+ up to the shoulders. When our men still refused they were taken
+ into a building and locked up two or three in a room; and left
+ there for 3 or 4 days without food or water or convenience of any
+ kind."
+
+ I asked Private ---- if he was quite sure of this statement and
+ the length of time, as the men would be reduced to a state of
+ absolute starvation.
+
+ "I am quite sure about it," he said, "and as for the men being
+ starved, I can only tell you that they were found curled up on
+ the floor, gnawing at their finger-nails.
+
+ "When the Commandant let them out he said he was going to send
+ them back to their lager, as he admired their pluck, and didn't
+ think Englishmen had so much in them."
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXIX
+
+OSNABRUCK
+
+ARRIVAL IN CAMP. THE CANTEEN. DAILY ROUTINE. RATIONS. PARCELS. NEWS
+
+
+We looked forward to the journey with a great deal of pleasure, not
+that I could see where I was going, but the sensation of travelling
+was a pleasant change.
+
+We had about half an hour to wait for our train at the station, to the
+intense interest of a crowd of 60 or 70 peasants, who gathered around
+us and gazed in open-mouthed wonder.
+
+As a matter of fact I was quite unaware that we were the centre of
+attraction. I thought we were standing quite alone. It is not a
+disadvantage to be blind sometimes.
+
+We had a guard with us of one soldier with a revolver in his belt,
+which no doubt was fully loaded, though we did not trouble him to
+prove it.
+
+We were placed in a very comfortable second-class carriage, quite
+equal to an English first-class carriage. German officers also appear
+to travel second class; and on all the journeys I made in Germany, I
+was always treated on an equality in this respect.
+
+Half-way through the journey we had to change, and had to wait about
+three-quarters of an hour for a connection. We were glad of this, as
+we were looking forward to a meal in the station restaurant. But we
+were doomed to disappointment. On entering the restaurant there were
+plenty of tables and chairs, but to all appearances nothing to eat.
+
+We sat down at a table in company with our escort, and Wishart went
+over to the counter to order a hot meal, but could not make himself
+understood. After energetically ordering every dish he could think of,
+including eggs and bacon, and emphasising his wishes by violent
+gesticulations, he returned unhappily to the table and sought the
+assistance of the guard, who was made to understand that in England
+the object of entering a restaurant is for the purpose of getting
+something to eat.
+
+We were finally provided with a cup of coffee, a piece of cheese, and
+a slice of very stale and uninteresting bread.
+
+We arrived at Osnabruck station at about 9 P.M., and were placed in a
+four-wheel cab, our guards sitting opposite us, with another soldier,
+who met us at the station, sitting on the box seat, thus attracting
+the attention of the passers-by and conjecture as to the distinguished
+occupants of the cab, whose cigars by this time were unfortunately
+exhausted.
+
+We had a drive of about four miles, for Osnabruck camp is situated on
+the outskirts of the town; and we were greeted on arrival by a request
+from the cabby for ten marks.
+
+After having been in daily expectation of a voyage to England, my
+arrival at Osnabruck camp gave me a fit of the blues; and I felt like
+one who enters a prison to undergo a term of penal servitude.
+
+We knocked at the outer gate, which was securely locked, and were
+challenged by a sentry, who was answered by our guard. There was
+really no need to challenge us, for as far as Wishart and I were
+concerned, we were perfectly willing to remain outside the domain of
+his authority.
+
+We heard a clatter of rifles, as the guard was turned out to welcome
+our visit, and after an examination of our papers to make sure that we
+had the right to enter, we were marched across the courtyard and
+stopped before a very large door. More knocking and a noise as of
+bolts being drawn back, and we entered the building.
+
+As the door was closed and bolted behind me, I felt like one who was
+losing his freedom for ever in the dungeons of a mighty fortress.
+
+We were led into the canteen, and the canteen manager supplied us with
+a cup of tea and a slice of bread and margarine--the margarine being a
+rare luxury for a prison camp.
+
+We were next taken into an office and searched and our money exchanged
+for canteen money. This precaution is always taken, so that if a
+prisoner escapes he is not likely to have any negotiable money upon
+him.
+
+I thought the soldiers who searched us were very fair, for seeing I
+was blind, they allowed Wishart to see exactly the money I had upon
+me, so that there could be no dispute. As a matter of fact I handed
+out the money myself.
+
+They did not search me, but asked me if I had anything on me which
+should be given up, and now I come to think of it, although others
+were always rigorously searched, I do not ever remember having been
+searched myself. They always took my word for it; perhaps it was
+because I was blind and they thought I was harmless.
+
+We were then taken up to a room on the second floor. Doctor Pohlmann
+was as good as his word, and a room for three was provided, Rogan
+being in possession.
+
+Osnabruck camp is part of a cavalry barracks, and the accommodation,
+therefore, is what one would expect in English barracks, and quite
+suitable for soldiers.
+
+The rooms are comfortable; there is a small stove with coal provided,
+and the furniture consists of camp-beds with two blankets each, a
+chest of drawers and a small table and chair. Some of the rooms
+contain as many as seven beds, but the rooms are fairly large and do
+not appear to be overcrowded.
+
+Doctor Pohlmann told us that the camp boasted, among other
+attractions, a billiard-room. Probably he was right, but he must have
+forgotten to add that there was no billiard-table or other article of
+furniture in it.
+
+A large room was set aside for the British prisoners, and another for
+the Russian prisoners; these were furnished at the prisoners' expense
+with a piano and card-tables, and used as anterooms. The British
+anteroom, however, never seemed popular, as the officers preferred
+their own living-rooms, which were warmer.
+
+The French had no anteroom, although I think they could have secured
+one had they desired it.
+
+There were about 250 prisoners in the building, about 200 of whom were
+Russian and French.
+
+There was a canteen, where almost everything but food could be
+obtained. The beer was not bad, and fairly cheap; but the only other
+drinks obtainable were a yellow fluid and a reddish fluid, which was
+given by the canteen manager the humorous description of sherry and
+port wine.
+
+He was a wise man, that canteen manager, for under what strategical
+device could he have extracted one mark per glass from his customers,
+and at the same time supply a "have another" atmosphere to his
+establishment? But he was a good fellow, and added greatly to the
+comfort of the officers (and to the comfort of his own banking-account).
+
+You could buy anything from him (except food), from a toothpick (which
+he never caused us to need) to a grand piano (which he did not keep in
+stock).
+
+He would purchase on commission, and the latter part of the purchase
+he gave particular attention to. But he sought custom, and it made him
+civil and obliging. He would supply you with a kettle of boiling water
+for 5 pfennigs; or, for a larger consideration, would cook the
+pheasant which came in your last parcel.
+
+The grounds outside the building were very small, although just before
+I left a field was thrown open, where the officers could kick a ball
+about. There were also two tennis-courts built by the officers.
+
+The picture does not seem an unpleasant one; and I do not think the
+officers imprisoned there ever complain of their treatment. But if it
+were a marble palace, that would not alter the fact that it was a
+prisoners' camp; and two hours was about as long as anybody would stay
+without being bored.
+
+If the description I have given leaves the impression that the
+prisoners have a good time in such seclusion, a stroll around the
+building a few times, avoiding the barbed wire; or a few nights' sleep
+disturbed by the frequent challenge of the sentry and the barking of
+the watch-dogs would disillusion them, and make them realise what it
+means to feel the strong fetters of captivity.
+
+In England we treat German officers very liberally; and if we ever
+allow this to arouse our indignation, we should pause to remember that
+this generous treatment has induced the German authorities to grant
+favours to British officers.
+
+Our officers, for instance, on signing a parole, are allowed once or
+twice each week to go for a long country walk in company with only one
+German officer; and this privilege is at any rate worth an equal
+amount of consideration being shown towards the German officers in
+England.
+
+A medical officer is present each morning, and if it is necessary to
+attend hospital, or the dentist, or if you have permission to go down
+for any other purpose, you are allowed the privilege of hiring a
+conveyance for what the cabby probably flatters himself is a moderate
+charge; but if you do not wish to pay for this privilege, you can
+walk--in the gutter.
+
+The dentist was not a popular man to visit, although a prisoner is
+often tempted to sacrifice a tooth in order to enjoy the privilege of
+a ride down-town. But he was apt to use his professional skill as an
+instrument to his patriotic ardour, and appeared to aspire to the
+removal of the jaw instead of the tooth.
+
+During the time I was at Osnabruck, there was a good commandant in
+charge. He was a gentleman, fair-minded, and considerate,
+notwithstanding the fact that he was a professional soldier of the old
+school.
+
+When I speak of the old school, it leads me to express an opinion that
+the brutalities perpetrated upon our soldiers who fell into their
+hands in the early part of the war were due to professional military
+hatred more than to popular intention. At the commencement of the war,
+the professional German soldier seemed to be imbued with the sole
+idea, which was no doubt fostered by the system of training, to get to
+England, and satisfy his hunger by murder and pillage; and the first
+prisoners who saved the people of this country by their heroic
+self-sacrifice received the first experience of their intentions.
+
+My contention is borne out by the fact that these brutalities are not
+practised to-day in anything like the same degree, for the old army
+has become more or less extinct, and a new army of civilians has taken
+its place. With the exception, perhaps, of certain elements of the
+higher commands, there is a decreasing element of the "top dog"
+spirit, and an undercurrent of feeling that it may not be wise to be
+too overbearing.
+
+To-day it is the German civilian fighting the British civilian, and
+the German who has a home, family, and business has not the same
+hatred as his professional predecessor.
+
+The German professional soldier is unapproachable; but the German
+civilian soldiers seemed reasonable and anxious for peace, and even to
+deplore the domineering authority which compelled him to take up arms.
+
+At Osnabruck the roll-call was made by the officers simply parading
+outside of their respective rooms and coming to the salute as the
+German officer passed him, and he, in passing by, would answer the
+salute. The morning roll-call was at 9 A.M., so at one minute to nine
+it was necessary to tumble out of bed.
+
+The curious raiment frequently donned more with a view to speed than
+dignity prompted an order being issued that officers should parade
+fully dressed. The ingenuity of the British soldier, however, could
+soon overcome a requirement of this kind. One minute to nine still
+prevailed, but the wearing of overcoats for early morning roll-call
+grew in popularity.
+
+I was very much impressed with the fair and systematic handling of our
+parcels, letters, and money; and even letters and post-cards which
+arrived for me after I had been sent back to England were readdressed
+and sent back. A remittance of five pounds, which arrived for me after
+I had left was even returned to me in England, instead of being
+applied to the pressing need of the German War Loan.
+
+Letters are distributed each morning. Parcels arrive on Mondays and
+Thursdays, and a list is made out and sent round the same afternoon,
+from which each prisoner can ascertain the number of parcels awaiting
+him. He thereupon appears at an appointed hour the following day to
+receive his parcels, which are opened by the German censor in his
+presence.
+
+All tin food has to be opened, but if it is not required for immediate
+consumption, it is placed unopened in a locker, and he can draw what
+he requires on any day he wishes to use it.
+
+The American Express Company was permitted to cash officers' cheques
+through the paymaster, who kept a proper account of the debits and
+credits against each prisoner; so that he could draw money at any time
+from the funds standing to his credit. These accounts were kept in a
+very businesslike manner, and a prisoner was permitted to go into the
+paymaster's office and examine his books whenever he wished. I know of
+at least one instance in which a prisoner had been permitted to
+overdraw his account.
+
+The prisoners spent most of their time at Osnabruck in playing tennis,
+football, walking up and down the yard, learning French or Russian,
+playing cards, or reading.
+
+The books which prisoners receive from time to time from England are
+passed round, thus forming a sort of circulating library.
+
+In living a life of this kind one cannot help but develop the habits
+of school-days, and become boyish in many things.
+
+One lives for letters and parcels. It is not the length of letters or
+size of parcels which count so much as the number; and when the parcel
+list comes round, he is a lucky fellow who finds four or five parcels
+awaiting him, even though their total contents amount to no more than
+that of the man who receives a single parcel.
+
+On Tuesdays and Fridays the number of parcels was an absorbing topic,
+and one would turn to another in schoolboy fashion, and say:
+
+"How many parcels have you got to-day?"
+
+"Only one--how many have you?"
+
+"Six."
+
+"Lucky devil!"
+
+In each room the men throw their parcels into one mess, and share
+alike; and if a new prisoner arrives, who would not be receiving
+parcels, he shares with the others in his room.
+
+If several prisoners just arriving are put in a room by themselves,
+they do not, of course, fare so well, and until their parcels arrive,
+many weeks later, they are more or less dependent upon the food issued
+to them; although presents of food are frequently sent in by the
+others, and articles of clothing are loaned.
+
+The charge made to the prisoners for food was forty-five marks per
+month. We were afterwards informed that by a new regulation the
+charge, by some international arrangement, had to be reduced to thirty
+marks per month. And the commandant explained that for this sum he
+could only supply the same ration which the men received; but would
+continue to supply the old ration if the officers would voluntarily
+agree to continue paying forty-five marks, and extra for their
+bread--which, of course, they did.
+
+This ration consisted of imitation coffee for breakfast and no food. A
+plate of washy stuff called soup, for dinner, followed by some sloppy
+mashed potatoes, and sometimes green stuff; and for supper, more
+sloppy potatoes.
+
+To satisfy one's hunger on a cold day with such food--which is only
+fit for pigs--can only be done by loosening the waistcoat, and half an
+hour afterwards one feels as though he had never had a meal.
+
+Prisoners were allowed to receive as many letters as they were lucky
+enough to have sent them; and there does not appear to be any
+restriction as to the length of the letter.
+
+They are allowed to write two letters of four pages each, and four
+post-cards each month. All letters are censored by a staff of censors
+in the camp. Outgoing letters and post-cards are held for ten days,
+with a view of ascertaining, I believe, whether invisible ink had been
+used.
+
+News arrives in the camp principally by the arrival of new prisoners,
+who are kept in quarantine for about ten days.
+
+German official bulletins are posted in the anteroom; and the
+_Continental News_, which is published in the English language, or
+rather disgraces the English language by using it, is delivered daily.
+By the bye, the _Continental News_ is a rag of the worst kind, and
+contains lies of the worst description.
+
+My orderly came to me one day, and after carefully closing the door,
+he drew from under his tunic a few scraps of an English newspaper a
+month old.
+
+We devoured the news eagerly, as well as the advertisements, and
+passed it quietly around to the other officers.
+
+He had been sweeping up the canteen after the censor had finished
+opening up the parcels. One parcel had been wrapped up in the
+newspaper, and unthinkingly the censor overlooked it, and tore the
+paper into fragments and threw it on the floor.
+
+My orderly, while sweeping, noticed the pieces on the floor. The
+censor was in the room, and he went on sweeping until, when the
+censor's head was turned, he stooped and, snatching it up, stuffed it
+into his tunic.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXX
+
+COMEDY AND DRAMA
+
+I SALUTE THE WALL. THE STORY OF AN EGG. A NOVEL BANQUET. JOY RIDE ON A
+LORRY. THE SWISS COMMISSION
+
+
+When I arrived at Osnabruck, I found three English orderlies, and to
+my surprise and delight, two were men of my own regiment who had been
+captured at Gommecourt Wood on July 1.
+
+The commandant came up to visit me the following morning, something
+very unusual; but no blind prisoner had ever been confined within the
+walls of Osnabruck before, and I suppose I was an object of interest.
+
+I heard Rogan say, "Commandant," and click his heels.
+
+I stood up and saluted. I was turned around, for, unknowingly, I had
+gravely saluted the wall.
+
+He spoke fairly good English:
+
+"You quite blind?"
+
+"Yes, quite."
+
+"See no light--nothing, no?"
+
+"Nothing whatever."
+
+"Your health, vot, is your health goot--yah?"
+
+"Very weak and shaky; I cannot sleep at night."
+
+"Is there anything you want?"
+
+"There are two orderlies here from my own regiment. Can I have one as
+my personal attendant? Otherwise I am helpless; I am not yet
+accustomed to blindness, and among so many people and in strange
+surroundings, I shall become a nuisance."
+
+"Yah; I will make arrangements."
+
+That was how I came to get Private Cotton as my orderly. Cotton was a
+fine lad; a well-educated, superior type of fellow, and we became very
+much attached to each other during those long, dreary days.
+
+He could speak French, and although he could speak no German, he
+possessed that wonderful faculty peculiar to the private soldier, of
+understanding and making himself understood in a language he did not
+know.
+
+He had been a civil servant in the War Office; but in the early part
+of the war had volunteered his services with the colours, and fought
+night and day in the trenches for a shilling a day; while the young
+man who took his place in the War Office drew one and sixpence an hour
+overtime after 4 o'clock. Yet Cotton never complained. But his duty
+was the other man's opportunity.
+
+As I write these lines Cotton is still a prisoner. I wonder if the
+other man is still drawing overtime, and wearing a war-service badge?
+
+Now Cotton was a gentleman both by birth and education; but he was a
+private soldier, and seemed to make a hobby of being one. He was a
+private, and I was a captain, and he insisted on that gulf being
+maintained.
+
+Whenever he bade me good-night, after he had laid me in my bed and
+made me some cocoa--generally from his own supplies, for my parcels
+went astray--I could always hear him click his heels, and I knew he
+had saluted.
+
+The second day after I had arrived at Osnabruck, he took me for
+exercise up and down the yard outside the canteen. This was my first
+appearance, and I was evidently an object of some curiosity, for wind
+had got round the camp that a blind prisoner had been brought in.
+
+As the French officers passed me, I used to hear them say: "Good
+morning, Capitaine," or "Bon jour, mon camarade."
+
+The English officers were splendid and always anxious to help me, and
+many a welcome supper of cocoa and cake I used to have in their rooms
+before going to bed.
+
+I am afraid, though, that I used to make rather a big meal of it, as
+for the first two weeks I had to exist on the German rations.
+
+When I took my first walk in the yard the canteen manager, his wife,
+and daughter were evidently watching out for me; for by and by, as a
+sign of their good-will, the daughter came running out after me with a
+present. It was an egg!
+
+Cotton and I had a serious talk about this egg. He thought I should
+save it, and have half for supper and half for breakfast; but I
+settled the matter by eating it at once.
+
+I think I have forgotten to mention that we were allowed to buy for
+half a mark, a loaf of bread every five days. I had no idea how far a
+loaf would go; I had never before given it a thought.
+
+But Cotton had it down to a science; and worked it out that two small
+slices for breakfast, and the same for supper would carry me through,
+and he kept me to it.
+
+"Cotton," I would say, after I had breakfasted on the two slices, "I
+could eat another slice."
+
+"Better not, sir."
+
+"Why not, Cotton? It's my loaf."
+
+"This is the fourth day, sir, and if you have another slice, there
+will only be a small piece of crust for to-morrow's breakfast."
+
+"All right, Cotton, I will sleep to dinner-time instead."
+
+It was a joyful day when my first parcels arrived in camp. I was too
+excited about it to eat alone that day; and I invited young Martell of
+the R.N.A.S. to come and dine with me in my room.
+
+There was a tin of soup and a tin of tripe and onions, and some
+biscuits and cheese. What a banquet! Martell and I decided to do
+ourselves in style. We even went so far as to send Cotton to the
+canteen for two glasses of what we indulgently patronised the canteen
+manager's humour by calling port wine.
+
+Martell cooked the tripe and onions, after opening the tin with his
+penknife, and boiled it on the stove. The more we thought of that
+meal, the more we schemed to make a spread of it.
+
+Cotton, too, rose to the occasion. From the canteen he obtained a
+sheet of white paper for a table-cloth, and by the side of each plate
+he placed a clean white handkerchief for serviettes.
+
+The table was just a little rough, wooden one, about two feet square.
+The room was swept and the beds made to give the room a tidy
+appearance, and then we sat down.
+
+Yes, Cotton understood. He knew that that meal was taking our thoughts
+back to England. It was taking him back, too. He knew that we imagined
+we were back again in the mess; and he imagined the same thing
+himself.
+
+In that little room, and in the presence of that tin of tripe and
+onions we forgot we were prisoners; we forgot that rows and rows of
+barbed wire bound us in captivity; we ignored the footsteps of the
+sentry pacing up and down outside our window, and the sharp yelping of
+the dogs.
+
+We were back in the mess, and we chatted and laughed during the meal
+as we had done in the old days, while our spirits rose with the aroma
+of the tripe and onion; and Cotton stood behind me silent and
+attentive, removing the plates, washing them, and replacing them ready
+for the next course, pretending he was drawing plates from a
+well-filled pantry.
+
+We finished our repast with biscuits and cheese, and then we solemnly
+stood, and raising our glasses, toasted the King.
+
+Then we drew our chairs round the fire, and heating the coffee which
+was left over from breakfast, we bathed our thoughts in the aroma of
+two cigars which Cotton had thoughtfully provided for the occasion
+from the canteen.
+
+Yes, people of England, living at home in luxury, by the protection of
+a thin line of khaki; when you become anxious at the prospect of one
+meatless day per week, try living for a fortnight on slops, and then
+appreciate the glories of a tin of tripe and onions.
+
+Still, one can live on slops, and improve a meal by a vivid
+imagination. In fact, imagination is a distinct advantage when sitting
+down hungrily to a plate of thin watery soup and sloppy potatoes for
+dinner.
+
+When the door used to open and Cotton appeared with this unsavoury
+repast, which was always the same each day, I would say to him in the
+most indifferent tone I could assume:
+
+"Well, Cotton, what kind of soup is it to-day?"
+
+"Well, sir; I really don't know. It might be anything; it looks like
+hot water."
+
+"Why, my dear Cotton, this soup is salt. How dull you are! There must
+have been a battle in the North Sea!"
+
+"How do you know that, sir?"
+
+"It's the way the Germans have. This soup is hot sea-water; it is to
+celebrate a victory."
+
+The next day there would be a slight difference in the soup, and again
+Cotton would gravely shake his head, unable to fathom its mystery.
+
+"My dear Cotton, when will you learn to gather information from your
+rations by a method of deduction?"
+
+"Has there been another battle in the North Sea, sir?"
+
+"No, my dear Cotton, the soup is thicker; the German fleet is back in
+the Kiel Canal."
+
+It was the beginning of the third week of my sojourn in Osnabruck,
+when I was told one day that I was to proceed next morning to
+Blenhorst camp to appear before the Swiss Commission. Three other
+officers were also to go, including Rogan.
+
+Cotton was to accompany me, and we made great preparation for the
+journey, packing in a tin box biscuits and cheese, chocolate and
+sardines; for although an officer is charged just the same for his
+full day's ration, the Germans have a habit of sending him on a long
+day's journey without food.
+
+We started off at about 6 o'clock the next morning in high glee; for
+whatever the result of the Swiss Commission might be, there was the
+journey to Blenhorst to break the monotony of Osnabruck.
+
+We had to change trains several times, and in the station restaurants
+we had much the same experience as I have described on my journey from
+Hanover.
+
+In one restaurant we could only obtain a slice of ham as thin as
+tissue-paper, and in another a very small sausage; and yet the German
+people we passed in the streets had no appearance of being short of
+food, or suffering any hardships in this respect. The people in the
+streets, I understand, looked just as contented and well fed as the
+people in England.
+
+The station for Blenhorst is about eight miles from the camp. A large
+flat, open lorry was sent to meet us to carry our baggage, but as our
+belongings were for the most part carried in our pockets, it was
+unnecessary for that purpose.
+
+It then dawned upon our two guards, who had no more desire to walk
+than we had, that we might ride on the lorry ourselves. They obtained
+a form to hold four, and we four officers occupied this seat on the
+open lorry, Cotton sitting on the floor, while the two guards sat
+together behind us, with their feet dangling over the side.
+
+That ride I shall never forget. Perhaps it was because I was blind
+that the situation seemed so ridiculously funny. The single-horsed
+lorry was pulled slowly through the rough, cobbled streets in sudden
+jerks, which sent our legs flying in the air, giving the form a tilt;
+and I expected every minute that we would all four turn a double
+somersault over the heads of our guards behind, and fall into the road
+like clowns at a circus.
+
+Imagine the picture, an open lorry on a bitterly cold day going
+through the streets of a small German town with four British officers
+in uniform; two with their heads bandaged, another with an arm in a
+sling, and a fourth with a lame leg, all sitting on a form, shivering
+with cold--all smoking cigars; while people came out and gazed in
+open-mouthed wonder at the strange spectacle; and a crowd of little
+urchins came running behind, yelling at the top of their voices.
+
+All this was explained to me; and I imagined a great deal more, for
+the ridiculous situation could only be complete if a shower of rotten
+eggs were hurled at us as we passed by.
+
+The following morning the Swiss Commission arrived, and all those who
+wished to appear before it were ordered to assemble in the yard.
+
+It was a pathetic assembly, officers and men maimed and afflicted
+beyond repair, waited in a long queue for their turn to go in and hear
+their fate.
+
+There were a number of Tommies acting as orderlies in the camp who
+had been prisoners since Mons. There was nothing physically the matter
+with them; yet the silent and hopeful manner in which they took their
+position in the line, knowing as they must have done, that their
+chances were hopeless, was most pitiful to witness.
+
+Yet, the same men, on appearing before the Commission, and being
+immediately rejected, laughed and joked as they returned to their
+work.
+
+The British Tommy is heroic, and rough though his language sometimes
+is, he is a man, and Britain is his debtor.
+
+
+
+
+CHAPTER XXXI
+
+FREE
+
+I BLUFF THE GERMAN SERGEANT. AACHEN. TWO BOTTLES OF WINE. ACROSS THE
+FRONTIER. GREAT SCOTT! I AM CHARGED FOR MY OWN DEATH EXPENSES
+
+
+I was passed for England!
+
+The Examination Board consisted of a Swiss doctor, a German doctor,
+and the camp commandant. The Swiss doctor was provided with a schedule
+of disablements under which prisoners could be passed for exchange to
+their own country, and partial disablements for Switzerland, and
+frequently objections to a prisoner's application would be made by the
+German representative.
+
+Of our party from Osnabruck, one was rejected, two were passed for
+Switzerland, and I was passed for England.
+
+The decision of the Swiss Commission is not final, for, on being sent
+to the border, all prisoners are again examined--this time by German
+doctors only--and by their decision prisoners are frequently rejected
+and sent back to camp.
+
+The final examination for those going to Switzerland takes place at
+Konstanz, and for those going to England, at Aachen.
+
+I knew of one British Tommy who, during eighteen months had been twice
+passed for England and once for Switzerland, and each time rejected at
+the border, and he is to-day still in Germany.
+
+It was about two weeks after I had been passed by the Swiss Commission
+that a German non-commissioned officer came to my room, and told me
+that I was to leave at 4 A.M. the next morning for England.
+
+I had waited for this moment for three long months; I had no
+occupation of any kind, and spent most of my time lying on my bed or
+sitting on an uncomfortable chair before the fire, in hourly
+expectation of the door opening to tell me of my freedom.
+
+Permission had been granted me to take Cotton with me to the border,
+so we packed all the food we had in stock and prepared for the
+journey. After travelling for some hours, we arrived at Hameln camp,
+where we were to stay the night. There was no accommodation for
+officers in the camp, and they apparently did not know what to do with
+me, or how to provide me with food, as they had never been called upon
+before to take charge of an officer.
+
+The only spare hut was some distance down the road, but as this was
+outside the camp, a special guard had to be mounted outside my door.
+The question of feeding me was evidently found to be rather a
+perplexing one, and a German N.C.O., who could speak English, came to
+see me about it.
+
+"You do not get the same rations at Osnabruck as private soldiers?
+No?"
+
+I saw an opportunity and took it.
+
+"No, special food is always provided for officers."
+
+"What do you usually get?"
+
+"Meat, vegetables, pudding or fruit, and coffee."
+
+"Zo! But how much do you get? Do you get _all_ that?"
+
+"Yes. As much as we like to pay for."
+
+"But the money. How do you pay?"
+
+"Oh, I will pay cash before I leave."
+
+"Goot. I will send you a dinner."
+
+"By the way, what about my orderly? Bring in the same for him."
+
+"Is dot usual? I vill gif him rations mit der men."
+
+"That's against regulations in Osnabruck. Officers pay for their
+orderlies' food. Bring him the same as me. By the way, sausages and
+coffee for breakfast for both."
+
+The meals were excellent, and I was glad we were moved off next day
+before the commandant came back to discover that I had bluffed the
+sergeant.
+
+At the end of the following day we arrived in Aachen, and again, being
+the only officer, the difficulty arose about my accommodation.
+
+This time I was placed in a real hospital which was used for German
+officers, and the accommodation was quite as good as I would expect in
+England. There were six nurses in this hospital, kind and generous in
+their treatment, and they fed me with every delicacy they could find,
+and waited upon me hand and foot.
+
+Cotton was ordered to return to Osnabruck, and was replaced by a
+German orderly. An armed guard was placed outside my bedroom door, day
+and night, and whenever I took exercise in the garden, I could hear
+his footsteps behind me, following me wherever I went, and spitting on
+the ground every two or three yards.
+
+On the second day after my arrival, I went for my final examination,
+and the medical officer told me he would send his sergeant-major, who
+could speak good English, to have a talk with me that evening. What
+did that mean? Why should he want to talk to me? I became suspicious
+and awaited his coming with some uneasiness.
+
+He arrived about 7 o'clock that evening, bringing a friend and two
+bottles of wine. They opened the wine and we smoked together.
+Conversation was going to be very difficult. I felt I was going to be
+pumped for information.
+
+It was going to be a battle of wits--I could feel it in my veins.
+
+I made up my mind to be pleasant and tactful and meet every question
+by asking one.
+
+As a matter of fact, I was mistaken. They were Germans who had lived
+in England and worked at the Deutsche Bank in George Yard, Lombard
+Street, until war broke out, and had lived in Highbury. I soon found
+out that they were not bad fellows at all, although their opening
+conversation did put my back up, and make me suspicious.
+
+"London must be full of soldiers?"
+
+I replied cautiously:
+
+"Well, I suppose the big cities, London, Paris, Berlin, Vienna, must
+all be full of soldiers these days."
+
+"But what do the English people really think about the cause of the
+war?"
+
+"Well," I replied evasively, "it's difficult to say, because people in
+England who talk, don't think; and people who think, don't talk."
+
+"Well, do you think when the war is over there will be any hard
+feeling? Do you think things will settle down, and we shall be able to
+live there again as we did before?"
+
+"Well, that depends upon the people's feelings after the war."
+
+"You know, we cannot understand the English people; you are very hard
+to understand, the way you do things."
+
+"How so?"
+
+"Well, look at the way you have got your army together. It's
+marvellous; we all admit it. It surprised us.
+
+"Look at your colonies. We thought Canada and Australia would break
+away; or at the very best, would not send over more than about 50,000
+men.
+
+"But what we cannot understand is why a country which can organise and
+handle such an enormous army, is unable to manage its civilian
+population."
+
+"In what way do you mean?"
+
+"Well, look at Ireland; fancy allowing that sort of thing! And the
+strikes you have! You build an army, and then allow your people to
+hinder it by striking."
+
+"How can you help it?"
+
+"You don't find strikes in Germany, because we organise our civil
+population for war, as well as the military population.
+
+"There was one strike a little while ago, not for more money, but
+because the men felt they were not getting the food they were entitled
+to. Do you know what we did?--We put them all in uniform, and sent
+them on to the Somme, and we sent back from the Somme an equal number
+of soldiers to replace them in the factory."
+
+"When do you think the war will be over?" I asked.
+
+"When each side realises that it can't exterminate the other. Look
+what we've done on the Somme! You've lost, let us say, 700,000 men,
+and we have lost, say 500,000; and how far have you got? You'll never
+beat us. If you bend us back more, all we shall have to do is to
+retire to a new line, and you will have to begin your work all over
+again. You can bend, but you can't break us."
+
+"Well, you tried it, and now it's our turn."
+
+"Yes; but it will never end that way. Do you know that for months past
+we've been digging a new line, a straight line between Lille and
+Verdun, which will shorten our line by half? And if you bend that we
+will build another farther back. It can go on for ever at that rate."
+
+"What about the blockade?"
+
+"Of course, that's a farce. You've been doing your best to starve us
+for over two years. Do I look starved? We may not get as good food as
+we should like, but we get enough to live on, because we've got it
+properly systemised; whereas you let your people eat what they like."
+
+Yes, there was truth in that; and after drinking all his wine, I
+turned into bed; for to-morrow I was to be free!
+
+At 7 o'clock on the following evening motor-cars, each with two
+trailers, went towards the station, filled with totally disabled
+soldiers, en route for England.
+
+Even their captors thought it was not worth while to keep them.
+
+War is a monstrous machine of the devil. At one end the manhood of
+Britain was pouring into its fiery cauldron; and here at the other end
+the devil was raking out the cinders.
+
+My story is drawing to a close.
+
+The hospital-train, bearing its human freight, passed through Namur,
+Liége, Brussels, and Antwerp to the Dutch frontier.
+
+All who could do so looked eagerly out of the window for the moment
+when they would pass into freedom.
+
+The train stopped at a small station right on the frontier, and some
+formalities were gone through. It started again--there was a German
+sentry--there was a Dutch sentry--we were over. Hurrah!!!
+
+Cheer after cheer rang out from that long line of prostrate men.
+
+The train pulled up at a little station just across the border. The
+door of my carriage was flung open and a number of Dutch girls came to
+my bed, and a shower of things came tumbling all about me as they
+passed one after the other, saying:
+
+"Cigarettes, pleeze; apple, pleeze; cigar, pleeze; cake, pleeze;
+sweets, pleeze----"
+
+I was in heaven.
+
+My story is told.
+
+I am back in my own home now; and as I conclude this record the
+postman brings me a letter. It is from my solicitors; I have torn it
+open, and find an account. The irony of fate closes the chapter:
+
+"To services rendered in connection with the death of Captain Nobbs!"
+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+ +-----------------------------------------------------------+
+ | Typographical errors corrected in text: |
+ | |
+ | Page 63: 'lets drink' replaced with 'let's drink' |
+ | Page 193: lagar replaced with lager |
+ | Page 220: 'we forget we were prisoners' replaced with |
+ | 'we forgot we were prisoners' |
+ | |
+ +-----------------------------------------------------------+
+
+ * * * * *
+
+
+
+
+
+End of Project Gutenberg's On the right of the British line, by Gilbert Nobbs
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