diff options
| -rw-r--r-- | .gitattributes | 4 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | LICENSE.txt | 11 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | README.md | 2 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/50247-8.txt | 6257 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/50247-8.zip | bin | 137110 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/50247-h.zip | bin | 329308 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/50247-h/50247-h.htm | 8615 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/50247-h/images/cover.jpg | bin | 168171 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/50247-h/images/rosetta.jpg | bin | 5648 -> 0 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | old/50247-h/images/trenches.jpg | bin | 5729 -> 0 bytes |
10 files changed, 17 insertions, 14872 deletions
diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..1aef45c --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #50247 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/50247) diff --git a/old/50247-8.txt b/old/50247-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 62a1b62..0000000 --- a/old/50247-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,6257 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Temporary Gentleman in France, by -A. J. (Alec John) Dawson - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: A Temporary Gentleman in France - -Author: A. J. (Alec John) Dawson - -Release Date: October 18, 2015 [EBook #50247] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A TEMPORARY GENTLEMAN IN FRANCE *** - - - - -Produced by Gísli Valgeirsson, Richard Hulse and the -Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net -(This file was produced from images generously made -available by The Internet Archive) - - - - - - - - - - A - "Temporary Gentleman" - in France - - Home Letters from an Officer at - the Front - - With Introductory Chapters by - - Captain A. J. Dawson - Border Regiment (British Forces) - - [Illustration] - - G. P. Putnam's Sons - - New York and London - - The Knickerbocker Press - - 1918 - - - - - COPYRIGHT, 1918 - - BY - - G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS - - - The Knickerbocker Press, New York - - - - -PUBLISHERS' NOTE - - -Permission has been given by the British War Office for the -publication of this series of Letters written by a Temporary Officer -of the New Army. No alteration has been made in the Letters to prepare -them for the Press beyond the deleting or changing, for obvious -reasons, of certain names used. - - - - -BY WAY OF INTRODUCTION - - -The writer has introduced this "Temporary Gentleman" to many good -fellows in England, France, and Flanders, and is very anxious to -introduce him on a really friendly footing to all his brothers-in-arms -across the Atlantic; from New York to San Francisco, and from Quebec -to Vancouver Island, also. But how best to do it? It really is no very -easy matter, this, to present one simple, very human unit of the New -Armies, to a hundred millions of people. - -"Dear America: Herewith please find one slightly damaged but wholly -decent 'Temporary Gentleman' who you will find repays consideration." - -I think that is strictly true, and though, in a way, it covers the -ground, it does not, somehow, seem wholly adequate; and I have an -uncomfortable feeling that the critics might find in it ground for -severe comments. But it is just what I mean; and I would be well -content that all the kindly men and women of America should just find -out about this "Temporary Gentleman" for themselves, and form their -own opinion, rather than that I should set down things about him in -advance. If these letters of his do not commend him to America's heart -and judgment, I am very sure no words of mine would stand any chance -of doing so. Yes, for my part, warmly anxious as I am for America to -know him, and to feel towards him as folk do in France and Flanders -and Britain, I am perfectly prepared to let him stand or fall upon his -own letters, which certainly discover the man to you, whatever you may -think of him. - -Withal, in case it may interest any among the millions of American -families from which some member has gone out to train and to fight, -to save the Allied democracies of the world from being over-ridden by -the murderous aggression of its remaining autocracies, I take pleasure -in testifying here to the fact that among the officers now serving in -Britain's New Armies (as among those who, whilst serving, have passed -to their long rest) are very many thousands who are just for all the -world like the writer of these letters. I have watched and spoken with -whole cadet-training battalions of them, seen them march past in column -of fours, chins well up, arms aswing, eyes front, and hearts beating -high with glad determination and pride--just because their chance has -nearly come for doing precisely what the writer of these letters did: -for treading the exact track he blazed, away back there in 1915; for -the right to offer the same sort of effort he made, for God and King -and Country; to guard the Right, and avenge the Wrong, and to shield -Christendom and its liberties from a menace more deadly than any that -the world's admitted barbarians and heathens ever offered. - -I know there are very many thousands of them who are just like this -particular "Temporary Gentleman,"--even as there must be many thousands -of his like in America,--because there have been so many among those -with whom I have lived and worked and fought, in the trenches. And it -does seem to me, after study of the letters, that this statement forms -something of a tribute to the spirit, the efficiency, and the devotion -to their duty, of the whole tribe of the Temporary Officers. - -Their lost sense of humour (withered out of existence, I take it, -by the poison gas of Prussian _Kultur_) would seem to have made the -German nation literally incapable of forming an approximately correct -estimate of the capacities of any people outside the confines of their -own machine-made, despotically ordered State, in which public sentiment -and opinion is manufactured from "sealed pattern" recipes kept under -lock and key in Potsdam and the Wilhelmstrasse. Their blunders in -psychology since July, 1914, would have formed an unparalleled comedy -of errors, if they had not, instead, produced a tragedy unequalled in -history. With regard to America alone, the record of their mistakes and -misreadings would fill a stout volume. In the earlier days of the War, -I read many German statements which purported (very solemnly) to prove: - -(_a_) That in the beginning of the War they killed off all the British -officers. - -(_b_) That the British officer material had long since been exhausted. - -(_c_) That, since it was impossible for the British to produce more -officers, they could not by any effort place a really big Army in the -field. - -And the queer thing is that German machine-made illusions are of -cast-iron. They "stay put"; permanently. During 1917 I read again -precisely the same fatuous German statement regarding America and her -inability to produce an army, that one read in 1914 and 1915 about -Britain. The British New Armies (which Germany affirmed could never -seriously count) have succeeded in capturing nearly three times as -many prisoners as they have lost, and more than four times as many -guns. From 1916 onward they steadily hammered back the greatest -concentrations of German military might that Hindenburg could put up, -and did not lose in the whole period as much ground as they have won in -a single day from the Kaiser's legions. Yet still, in 1917, the same -ostrich-like German scribes, who vowed that Britain could not put an -army in the field because they could never officer it, were repeating -precisely the same foolish talk about America and her New Armies. - -Perhaps there is only one argument which Germany is now really able -to appreciate. That argument has been pointedly, and very effectively, -presented for some time past by the writer of these letters, and all -his comrades. From this stage onward, it will further be pressed home -upon the German by the armies of America, whose potentialities he has -laboriously professed to ridicule. It is the argument of high explosive -and cold steel; the only argument capable of bringing ultimate -conviction to the Wilhelmstrasse that the English-speaking peoples, -though they may know nothing of the goose-step, yet are not wont to cry -"Kamerad," or to offer surrender to any other people on earth. - -I know very well that the writer of these letters had no thought as -he wrote--back there in 1916--of any kind of argument or reply to -Potsdamed fantasies. But yet I would submit that, all unwittingly, -he has furnished in these letters (on America's behalf, as well as -Britain's) what should prove for unprejudiced readers outside Germany -a singularly telling answer to the Boche's foolish boasts of the -Anglo-Saxon inability to produce officers. As a correspondent in the -Press recently wrote: "Why, for generations past the English-speaking -peoples have been officering the world and all its waters--especially -its waters!" And so they have, as all the world outside Germany knows, -from the Yukon to Tierra del Fuego; from the Atlantic round through the -Philippines to the golden gate and back. - -It is a high sense of honour, horse sense, and sportsmanship, in our -Anglo-Saxon sense, that lie at the root of successful leadership. And -one of Prussia's craziest illusions was that with us, these qualities -were the sole monopoly of the men who kept polo ponies and automobiles! - -Only the guns of the Allies and the steel of their dauntless -infantrymen can enlighten a people so hopelessly deluded as the Germans -of to-day. But for the rest of the world I believe there is much in -this little collection of the frank, unstudied writings of an average -New Army officer, who, prior to the War, was a clerk in a suburban -office, to show that sportsmanship and leadership are qualities -characteristic of every single division of the Anglo-Saxon social -systems; and that, perhaps more readily than any other race, we can -produce from every class and every country in the English-speaking half -of the world, men who make the finest possible kind of active service -officers; men who, though their commissions may be "Temporary" and -their names innocent of a "von," or any other prefix, are not only fine -officers, but, permanently, and by nature, gentlemen and sportsmen. - -Withal, it may be that I should be falling short of complete -fulfilment of a duty which I am glad and proud to discharge, if I -omitted to furnish any further information regarding the personality -of the writer of these letters. And so, if the reader will excuse yet -another page or two of wire entanglement between himself and the actual -trenches--the letters, I mean--I will try to explain. - - A. J. DAWSON, - _Captain_. - - LONDON, 1918. - - - - -THE GENESIS OF THE "TEMPORARY GENTLEMAN" - - -In the case of the Service Battalion officer of Britain's New Army who, -with humorous modesty, signs himself "Your 'Temporary Gentleman,'" what -is there behind that enigmatic signature that his letters do not tell -us? The first of these homely epistles shows their writer arriving with -his Battalion in France; and the visit is evidently his first to that -fair land, since he writes: "I wonder if I should ever have seen it had -there been no war!" That exclamation tells a good deal. - -But of the man and his antecedents prior to that moment of landing with -his unit in France, the letters tell us nothing; and if it be true that -the war has meant being "born again" for very many Englishmen, that -frequently quoted statement at all events points to the enjoyment of -some definite status before the war. - -Inquiry in this particular case speedily brings home to one the fact -that one is investigating the antecedents of a well-recognised New -Army type, a thoroughly representative type, as well as those of an -individual. In his antecedents, as in the revolutionary development -which the war has brought to him, this "Temporary Gentleman" is clearly -one among very many thousands who have, so to say, passed through -the same crucibles, been submitted to the same standard tests, and -emerged in the trenches of France and Flanders, in Gallipoli and in -Mesopotamia, in Africa, and in other places in which the common enemy -has endeavoured to uphold his proposed substitution of _Kultur_ for -civilisation, as we understand it. - -In the year 1896 there died, in a south-western suburb of London, -a builder and contractor in a small, suburban way of business. An -industrious, striving, kindly, and honourable man, he had had a number -of different irons in the fire, as the saying goes, and some of them, -it may be, would have provided a good reward for his industry if he -had lived. As the event proved, however, the winding-up of his affairs -produced for his widow a sum representing no more than maintenance upon -a very modest scale of a period of perhaps three years. The widow was -not alone in the world. She had a little daughter, aged five, and a -sturdy son, aged eight years. Nineteen years later that boy, into whose -youth and early training not even the mention of anything military -ever crept, was writing letters home from fire trenches in France, and -signing them "Your 'Temporary Gentleman.'" - -For seven years after his father's death the boy attended a day school -in Brixton. The tuition he there received was probably inferior in -many ways to that which would have fallen to his lot in one of the big -establishments presided over by the County Council. But his mother's -severely straitened circumstances had rather strengthened than lowered -her natural pride; and she preferred to enlarge the sphere of her -necessary sacrifices, and by the practice of the extremest thrift and -industry to provide for the teaching of her two children at private -schools. The life of the fatherless little family was necessarily a -narrow one; its horizon was severely restricted, but its respectability -was unimpeachable; and within the close-set walls of the little Brixton -home there never was seen any trace of baseness, of coarseness, or -of what is called vulgarity. The boy grew up in an atmosphere of -reticence and modesty, in which the dominant factors were thrift, duty, -conscientiousness, and deep-rooted family affection. - -The first epoch of his fatherless life closed when our "Temporary -Gentleman" left school, at the age of fifteen, and mounted a stool in -the office of a local auctioneer and estate agent, who, in the previous -decade, had had satisfactory business dealings with the youth's father. -This notable event introduced some change into the quiet little -mother-ruled _ménage_; for, in a sense, it had to be recognised that, -with the bringing home of his first week's pay, the boy threatened -to become a man. The patient mother was at once proud and a little -disconcerted. But, upon the whole, pride ruled. The boy's mannishness, -brought up as he had been, did not take on any very disconcerting -shapes, though the first cigarette he produced in the house, not very -long after the conclusion of the South African War, did prove something -of a disturbing element just at first. - -The South African War affected this little household, perhaps, as much -as it would have been affected by a disastrous famine in China. It -came before the period at which the son of the house started bringing -home an evening newspaper, and while the only periodicals to enter the -home were still _The Boy's Own Paper_ and a weekly journal concerned -with dressmaking and patterns. As a topic of conversation it was not -mentioned half a dozen times in that household from first to last. - -The next really great event in the life of the auctioneer's clerk was -his purchase of a bicycle, which, whilst catastrophic in its effect -upon his Post Office Savings Bank account, was in other respects a -source of great happiness to him. And if it meant something of a wrench -to his mother, as a thing calculated to remove her boy a little farther -beyond the narrow confines of the sphere of her exclusive domination, -she never allowed a hint of this to appear. Her son's admirable -physique had long been a source of considerable pride to her; and she -had wisely encouraged his assiduity in the Polytechnic gymnasium of -which he was a valued supporter. - -For the youth himself, his bicycle gave him the key of a new world, -whilst robbing the cricket and football clubs to which he belonged of -a distinctly useful member. He became an amateur of rural topography, -learned in all the highways and by-ways of the southern Home Counties. -His radius may not have exceeded fifty miles, but yet his bicycle -interpreted England to him in a new light, as something infinitely -greater and more beautiful than Brixton. - -Quietly, evenly, the years slid by. The boy became a youth and the -youth a man; and, in a modest way, the man prospered, becoming the -most important person, next to its proprietor, in the estate agent's -business. The mother's life became easier, and the sister (who had -become a school-teacher) owed many little comforts and pleasures to the -consistent kindliness of one who now was admittedly the head of the -little household and its chief provider. He never gave a thought to the -State or felt the smallest kind of interest in politics; yet his life -was in no way self-centred or selfish, but, on the contrary, one in -which the chief motive was the service of those nearest and dearest to -him. Whilst rarely looking inward, his outward vision was bounded by -the horizon of his well-ordered little home, of the Home Counties he -had learned to love, and of the south-coast seaside village in which -the family spent a happy fortnight every summer. - -They were in that little seaside village when the Huns decreed -war and desolation for Europe in August, 1914, and the three were -a good deal upset about the whole business, for it interfered with -the railway service, and broke in very unpleasantly upon the holiday -atmosphere, which, coming as it did for but one fortnight in each -year, was exceedingly precious to the little family. However, with the -Englishman's instinct for clinging to the established order, with all -the national hatred of disturbance, they clung as far as possible to -the measured pleasantness of their holiday routine, and, after a week, -returned to the workaday round of life in Brixton. - -Then began a time of peculiar stress and anxiety for the little -household, the dominating factor in which was the growing strangeness, -as it seemed to them, of its actual head and ruler; of the man in the -house. At first he talked a great deal of the war, the overpowering -news of the day, and he passed many scathing criticisms upon the -conduct of the authorities in their handling of the first stages of the -monstrous work of preparation. He had much to say of their blunders -and oversights; and somewhat, too, of what he called their criminal -unpreparedness. He stopped talking rather abruptly at breakfast one -morning; and one of the headlines which subsequently caught the eyes -of his sister, in the newspaper her brother had propped against the -coffee-pot, put this inquiry, in bold black type: - - "WHOSE FAULT IS IT, MR. CITIZEN, THAT THE COUNTRY IS UTTERLY - UNPREPARED FOR WAR?" - -Those nightmarish early days of the great war slowly succeeded one -another, and the mother and daughter grew perturbed over the change -they saw creeping over their man. He talked hardly at all now. All the -old cheery, kindly good humour which had provided half the sunshine -of their lives seemed to be disappearing and giving place to a queer, -nervous, morose sort of depression. It was as if their man lived a -double life. Clearly he was much affected, even absorbed, by some -mental process which he never so much as mentioned to them. Morning -and evening they saw him, and yet it was as though he was not there, -as though he lived and had his being in some other world, aloof from -the old cosy, familiar, shared world in which they had always been -together. The house-wifely eye of his mother noted with something like -alarm that his bedroom candlestick required a fresh candle every day. -One had been wont to serve him for a fortnight. Always, she thought he -would unburden himself when he kissed her good-night. But he said never -a word; and the nerve strain in the little household, which had been so -quietly happy and bright, became almost unendurable. - -Then the end came, with the beginning of the third week in September. -The evening was extraordinarily peaceful and fine. The sister and a -girl friend were at the little cottage piano. The visitor had a rather -rich contralto voice, and sang with considerable feeling. In the middle -of her third song the master of the house rose abruptly and walked out -of the room, closing the door sharply behind him. The song was one of -those called a "recruiting song." Late that night, when the visitor had -departed, the brother apologised to his mother and sister for leaving -them so abruptly, and spoke of a sudden headache. And the next evening -he brought home the devastating news that he had enlisted, and would be -leaving them next day for a military depot. - -The news was received in dead silence. In some mysterious way neither -of the women had contemplated this as possible. For others, yes. For -their man--the thing was too wildly, remotely strange to be possible. -There was his business; and, besides--It was merely impossible. And -now he was an enlisted soldier, he told them. But, though they hardly -suspected it, not being given to the practice of introspection, -their man was not the only member of the little household in whom -a fundamental and revolutionary change had been wrought by the -world-shaking news of the past six weeks. In the end the women kissed -their man, and the central fact of his astounding intelligence was -not discussed at all. They proceeded direct to practical, material -arrangements. But when the time came for her good-night kiss, the -mother said, very quietly, "God bless you, dear!"; and the sister -smiled and showed a new pride through the wet gleam of her eyes. - -And then the auctioneer's clerk disappeared from the peaceful purlieus -of Brixton and went out alone into an entirely new world, the like -of which had never presented itself to his fancy, even in dreams. He -became one of fifteen men whose home was a bell tent designed to give -easy shelter to perhaps half that number. He began to spend his days -in a routine of drill which, even to him with his gymnasium training, -seemed most singularly tiresome and meaningless--at first. - -At the end of four weeks he returned home for a Saturday night and -Sunday in the Brixton house; and he wore one stripe on the sleeve of -his service jacket. To his intelligence there now was nothing in the -whole intricate round of section, platoon, and company drill which was -meaningless, however wearing it might sometimes seem. There was a tan -on his cheeks, a clear brightness in his eyes, an alert swing in his -carriage, and a surprisingly crisp ring in his voice which at once -bewildered and delighted his womenfolk. He seemed not so much a new man -as the man whom they had always loved and respected, in some subtle way -magnified, developed, tuned up, brought to concert pitch. - -In November he was advised by his Company Commander to apply for a -Commission. The officer badly wanted him for a Sergeant, but this -officer had long since learned to place duty first and inclination a -long way behind; and it was apparent to him that in this tall, alert -Lance-Corporal of his, as in so many hundreds of other men in the -ranks, there was the making of a good officer. - -Shortly before Christmas, 1914, he was gazetted a Second Lieutenant, -and on New Year's Day he found himself walking across a parade ground -to take his place in front of the platoon he subsequently led in -France, after long months of arduous training in several different -English camps. - -Three-quarters of a year passed between the day of this "Temporary -Gentleman's" enlistment and his writing of the first of the letters now -published over his pseudonym; and it may well be that all the previous -years of his life put together produced no greater modification and -development in the man than came to him in those nine months of -training for the New Army. The training had its bookish side, for he -was very thorough; but it was in the open air from dawn till dark, and -ninety per cent. of it came to him in the process of training others. - -The keynotes of the training were _noblesse oblige_, sportsmanship and -responsibility, that form of "playing the game" which is at the root -of the discipline of the British Army. While he taught the men of his -platoon they taught him, in every hour of the day and many hours of the -night. They learned to call him "A pretty good sort," which is very -high praise indeed. And he learned to be as jealous of his men as any -mother can be of her children. He learned to know them, in fair weather -and in foul, for the splendid fellows they are; and in the intensely -proud depths of his own inner consciousness to regard them as the -finest platoon in the New Army. - -And then came the longed-for day of the departure for France, for the -land he was to learn to love, despite all the horrors of its long -fighting line, just as he learned most affectionately to admire the -men and reverence the women of brave, beautiful France. In the letters -that he wrote from France he had, of course, no faintest thought of the -ultimate test of publication. That is one reason why his name is not -now attached to documents so intimate, even apart from the sufficiently -obvious military reasons. - - A. J. D. - - - - -CONTENTS - - - PAGE - - THE FIRST LETTER 1 - - THE FIRST MARCH 9 - - THE TALE OF A TUB 18 - - THE TRENCHES AT LAST 28 - - A DISSERTATION ON MUD 37 - - TAKING OVER ON A QUIET NIGHT 46 - - "WHAT IT'S LIKE" 56 - - THE DUG-OUT 67 - - A BOMBING SHOW 79 - - OVER THE PARAPET 89 - - THE NIGHT PATROL 99 - - IN BILLETS 111 - - BOMBARDMENT 121 - - THE DAY'S WORK 132 - - TOMMY DODD AND TRENCH ROUTINE 142 - - STALKING SNIPERS 152 - - AN ARTFUL STUNT 160 - - THE SPIRIT OF THE MEN 169 - - AN UNHEALTHY BIT OF LINE 179 - - THEY SAY---- 188 - - THE NEW FRONT LINE 197 - - A GREAT NIGHT'S WORK 210 - - THE COMING PUSH 220 - - FRONT LINE TO HOSPITAL 229 - - THE PUSH AND AFTER 239 - - BLIGHTY 250 - - - - - A "Temporary Gentleman" - in France - - - - -THE FIRST LETTER - - -Here we are at last, "Somewhere in France," and I suppose this will -be the first letter you have ever had from your "Temporary Gentleman" -which hasn't a stamp on it. It is rather nice to be able to post -without stamps, and I hope the Censor will find nothing to object to in -what I write. It's hard to know where to begin. - -Here we are "at last," I say--we were nearly a year training at home, -you know--and I shall not easily forget our coming. It really was a -wonderful journey from Salisbury Plain, with never a hitch of any sort -or kind, or so much as a buttonstick gone astray. Someone with a pretty -good head-piece must arrange these things. At ten minutes to three this -morning we were on the parade ground at ---- over a thousand strong. At -twenty minutes to eleven we marched down the wharf here at ----, well, -somewhere in France; and soon after twelve the cook-house bugle went -in this camp, high up on a hill outside the town, and we had our first -meal in France--less than eight hours from our huts on the Plain; not -quite the Front yet, but La Belle France, all the same. I wonder if I -should ever have seen it had there been no war? - -Our transport, horses, mules, and limbers had gone on ahead by another -route. But, you know, the carrying of over a thousand men is no small -matter, when you accomplish it silently, without delay, and with all -the compact precision of a battalion parade, as this move of ours was -managed. Three minutes after our train drew up at the harbour station, -over there in England, the four companies, led by Headquarters Staff, -and the band (with our regimental hound pacing in front) were marching -down the wharf in column of route, with a good swing. There were four -gangways, and we filed on board the steamer as if it had been the -barrack square. Then off packs and into lifebelts every man; and in ten -minutes the Battalion was eating its haversack breakfast ration, and -the steamer was nosing out to the open sea, heading for France, the -Front, and Glory. - -The trip across was a stirring experience in its way too. The wide sea, -after all, is just as open to the Boche as to us, and he is pretty -well off for killing craft and mines. Yet, although through these long -months we have been carrying troops to and fro every day, not once -has he been able to check us in the Channel. The way the Navy's done -its job is--it's just a miracle of British discipline and efficiency. -All across the yellow foam-flecked sea our path was marked out for us -like a racecourse, and outside the track we could see the busy little -mine-sweepers hustling to and fro at their police work, guarding the -highway for the British Army. Not far from us, grim and low, like a -greyhound extended, a destroyer slid along: our escort. - -The thing thrilled you, like a scene in a play; the quiet Masters of -the Sea guarding us on our way to fight the blustering, boastful, -would-be stealers of the earth. And from first to last I never heard a -single order shouted. There was not a single hint of flurry. - -It is about seven hours now since we landed, and I feel as though -we had been weeks away already--I suppose because there is so much -to see. And yet it doesn't seem very foreign, really; and if only I -could remember some of the French we were supposed to learn at school, -so as to be able to understand what the people in the street are -talking about, it would be just like a fresh bit of England. Although, -just a few hours away, with no sea between us, there's the Hun, with -his poison gas and his Black Marias and all the rest of the German -outfit. Well, we've brought a good chunk of England here since the war -began; solid acres of bully beef and barbed wire, condensed milk and -galvanised iron, Maconochie rations, small-arm ammunition, biscuits, -hand grenades, jam, picks and shovels, cheese, rifles, butter, boots, -and pretty well everything else you can think of; all neatly stacked in -miles of sheds, and ready for the different units on our Front. - -I think the French are glad to see us. They have a kind of a welcoming -way with them, in the streets and everywhere, that makes you feel as -though, if you're not actually at home, you are on a visit to your -nearest relations. A jolly, cheery, kindly good-natured lot they are, -in spite of all the fighting in their own country and all the savage -destruction the Huns have brought. The people in the town are quite -keen on our drums and bugles; marching past them is like a review. It -makes you "throw a chest" no matter what your pack weighs; and we are -all carrying truck enough to stock a canteen with. The kiddies run -along and catch you by the hand. The girls--there are some wonderfully -pretty girls here, who have a kind of a way with them, a sort of style -that is French, I suppose; it's pretty taking, anyhow--they wave their -handkerchiefs and smile. "Bon chance!" they tell you. And you feel they -really mean "Good luck!" I like these people, and they seem to like us -pretty well. As for men, you don't see many of them about. They are in -the fighting line, except the quite old ones. And the way the women -carry on their work is something fine. All with such a jolly swing and -a laugh; something brave and taking and fine about them all. - -If this writing seems a bit ragged you must excuse it. The point of -my indelible pencil seems to wear down uncommonly fast; I suppose -because of the rough biscuit box that is my table. We are in a tent, -with a rather muddy boarded floor, and though the wind blows mighty -cold and keen outside, we are warm as toast in here. I fancy we shall -be here till to-morrow night. Probably do a route march round the town -and show ourselves off to-morrow. The C. O. rather fancies himself in -the matter of our band and the Battalion's form in marching. We're not -bad, you know; and "A" Company, of course, is pretty nearly the last -word. "Won't be much sleep for the Kaiser after 'A' Company gets to -the Front," says "the Peacemaker." We call our noble company commander -"the Peacemaker," or sometimes "Ramsay Angell," as I think I must have -told you before, because he's so deadly keen on knuckle-duster daggers -and things of that sort. "Three inches over the right kidney, and when -you hear his quiet cough you can pass on to the next Boche," says "the -Peacemaker," when he is showing off a new trench dagger. Sort of, "And -the next article, please," manner he has, you know; and we all like him -for it. It's his spirit that's made "A" Company what it is. I don't -mean that we call him "the Peacemaker" to his face, you know. - -We can't be altogether war-worn veterans or old campaigners yet, -I suppose, though it does seem much more than seven hours since we -landed. But everyone agrees there's something about us that we did not -have last year--I mean yesterday. From the Colonel down to the last man -in from the depot we've all got it; and though I don't know what it is, -it makes a lot of difference. I think it is partly that there isn't any -more "Out there" with us now. It's "Out here." And everything that came -before to-day is "Over in England," you know; ever so far away. I don't -know why a man should feel more free here than in England. But there -it is. The real thing, the thing we've all been longing for, the thing -we joined for, seems very close at hand now, and, naturally, you know, -everyone wants to do his bit. It's funny to hear our fellows talking, -as though the Huns were round the corner. If there's anything a man -doesn't like--a sore heel, or a split canteen of stew, or a button torn -off--"We'll smarten the Boche for that," they say, or, "Righto! That's -another one in for the Kaiser!" - -You would have thought we should have had time during the past -six months or so to have put together most of the little things a -campaigner wants, wouldn't you? especially seeing that a man has -to carry all his belongings about with him and yet I would make a -sporting bet that there are not half a dozen men in the Battalion who -have bought nothing to carry with them to-day. There is a Y. M. C. -A. hut and a good canteen in this camp, and there has been a great -business done in electric torches, tooth-powder, chocolate, knives, -pipe-lighters, and all manner of notions. We are all very glad to be -here, very glad; and nine out of ten will dream to-night of trenches -in France and the Push we all mean to win V.C.'s in. But that's not to -say we shall forget England and the--the little things we care about -at home. Now I'm going to turn in for my first sleep in France. So -give what you have to spare of my love to all whom it may concern, and -accept the rest yourself from your - - "_Temporary Gentleman_." - - - - -THE FIRST MARCH - - -We reached this long, straggling village in pale starlight a little -after six this morning; and with it the welcome end of the first stage -of our journey from the port of disembarking to our section of the -French Front. - -In all the months of our training in England I never remember to -have seen "A" Company anything like so tired; and we had some pretty -gruelling times, too, during those four-day divisional stunts and in -the chalk trenches on the Plain; and again in the night ops. on the -heather of those North Yorkshire moors. But "A" Company was never so -tired as when we found our billets here this morning. Yet we were in -better form than any other company in the Battalion; and I'm quite sure -no other Battalion in the Brigade could march against our fellows. - -The whole thing is a question of what one has to carry. Just now, -of course, we are carrying every blessed thing we possess, including -great-coats and blankets, not to mention stocks of 'baccy, torches, -maps, stationery, biscuits, and goodness knows what besides; far fuller -kits, no doubt, than tried campaigners ever have. (I found little -M----, of No. 3 Platoon, surreptitiously stuffing through a hedge a -case of patent medicines, including cough-mixture and Mother Somebody's -Syrup!) If you ever visit France you probably won't travel on your own -ten toes; but if you should, be advised by me and cut your kit down to -the barest minimum; and when you've done that, throw away a good half -of what's left. - -Boots and socks. Some people will tell you that stocks and shares and -international politics are matters of importance. I used to think the -pattern of my neckties made a difference to our auctions. I know now -that the really big things, the things that are really important, are -socks and boots, and hot coffee and sleep, and bread--"Pang--Compree?" -says Tommy to the French women, with a finger at his mouth--and then -socks and boots again. You thought we paid a good deal in the shop for -those swanky trench boots, W---- and myself. That was nothing to what -we've paid since for wearing 'em. Excellent trench boots, I dare say; -but one has to walk across a good bit of France before getting to the -trenches, you know. Those boots are much too heavy to carry and no good -for marching. They look jolly and workmanlike, you know, but they eat -up too much of one's heels. Tell all the officers you know to come out -in ordinary marching boots, good ones, but ordinary ankle boots. Plenty -time to get trench boots when they get to the trenches. Good old Q.M. -Dept. will see to that. Our respected O.C. Company had no horse, you -know (we haven't yet made connection with our transport), and his heels -to-day look like something in the steak line about half-grilled. - -We left camp at the port I mustn't name about eight o'clock last -night, and marched down the hill to the station in sort of thoughtful -good spirits, the packs settling down into their grooves. To save -adding its immensity to my pack, I wore my imposing trench coat, with -its sheep-skin lining; waist measurement over all, say a hundred -and twenty-five. Two of us had some difficulty about ramming "the -Peacemaker," through his carriage door into the train, he also being -splendid in a multi-lined trench coat. Then we mostly mopped up -perspiration and went to sleep. - -Between twelve and one o'clock in the morning we left the train (not -without emotion; it was a friendly, comfortable train), and started to -march across France. The authorities, in their godlike way, omitted to -give us any information as to how far we were to march. But the weather -was fine, and "A" Company moved off with a good swing, to the tune of -their beloved "Keep the Camp Fires Burning." The biggest of packs seems -a trifle, you know, immediately after four hours' rest in a train. But -after the first hour it's astonishing how its importance in your scheme -of things grows upon you; and at the end of the third or fourth hour -you are very glad to stuff anything like bottles of Mother Somebody's -Syrup through a gap in the nearest hedge. - -It was at about that stage that word reached us of one or two men -falling out from the rear companies. At this "the Peacemaker" began -jogging up and down the left of our Company--we march on the right of -the road in France--and, for all his sore heels and tremendous coat, -showing the skittishness of a two-year-old. And he's even good years -older than any of the rest of us, or than anyone else in the Company. -I chipped my fellows into starting up another song, and my Platoon -Sergeant cheerfully passed the word round that if anybody in No. 1 -dared to fall out he'd disembowel him with a tin-opener. - -As an actual fact not a single "A" Company man did fall out, though in -the last lap I was a bit nervy about old Tommy Dodd in 3 Section, whose -rifle I carried, and one or two others. At the end "the Peacemaker" was -carrying the rifles of two men, and everybody was thankful for walls to -lean against when we stood easy in this village. My chaps were splendid. - -"Stick it, Tommy Dodd!" I said to the old boy once, near the end. His -good old face was all twisted with the pain of his feet and the mass of -extra kit which no doubt his wife had made him carry. - -"Stick it!" says he, with his twisted grin. "Why, I'm just beginning -to enjoy it, sir. Just getting into me stride, I am. I wouldn't 've -missed this for all the beer in England, sir. But you wait till we get -alongside them blighted Boches, sir, an' see if I don't smarten some of -'em for this. I'll give 'em sore 'eels!" - -It was only by lying to the extent of at least ten years that the old -thing was able to enlist, and you couldn't get him to "go sick" if you -drove him with a whip. The only way old Tommy Dodd's spirit could be -broken would be if you sent him to the depot and refused him his chance -of "smartening them blighted Boches." - -Everyone in the village was asleep when we got there, but on the -door we found chalked up (as it might be "Lot So-and-so" at a sale) -"1 Officer, 25 men, 'A' Coy.," and so on. We officers shed our packs -and coats in the road--the joy of that shedding!--and went round -with our platoons picking out their quarters, and shepherding them -in before they could fall asleep. We knocked up the inhabitants, who -came clattering out in clogs, with candle-ends in big lanterns. Most -remarkably cheery and good-natured they all seemed, for that time of -day; mostly women, you know, you don't find many home-staying men in -France to-day. The most of the men's billets are barns and granaries, -and there is a good supply of straw. I can tell you there was no need -to sound any "Lights Out" or "Last Post." No. 1 Platoon just got down -into their straw like one man, and no buck at all about it. - -Then when we had seen them all fixed up, we foraged round for our -own billets. Mine proved a little brick-floored apartment, in which -you might just swing a very small cat if you felt like that kind of -jugglery, opening out of the main room, or bar, of an estaminet--the -French village version of our inn, you know. Here, when they had had -their sleep, the men began to flock this afternoon for refreshment. -The drinking is quite innocent, mostly café au lait, and occasionally -cider. The sale of spirits is (very wisely) entirely prohibited. It's -most amusing to hear our chaps "slinging the bat." They are still at -the stage of thinking that if they shout loudly enough they must be -understood, and it is rather as a sort of good-humoured concession to -the eccentricities of our French hosts, than with any idea of tackling -another language, that they throw in their "Bon jor's" and the like. - -"Got any pang, Mum?" they ask cheerfully. Another repeats it, in -a regular open-air auction shout, with a grin and an interrogative -"Compree?" at the end of each remark. Some, still at the top of -their voices, are even bold enough to try instructing the French. -"Françaisee, 'pang'--see? In Engletairy, 'bread'--see? Compree? -B-R-E-A-D, bread." And the kindly French women, with their smiling lips -and anxious, war-worn eyes, they nod and acquiesce, and bustle in and -out with yard-long loaves and bowls of coffee of precisely the same -size as the diminutive wash-hand basin in my room. I tell you one's -heart warms to these French women, in their workmanlike short frocks -(nearly all black), thick, home-knitted stockings, and wooden clogs. -How they keep the heels of their stockings so dry and clean, I can't -think. The subject, you notice, is one of peculiar interest to all of -us just now--sock heels, I mean. - -There have been a good many jobs for officers all day, so far, and -only an hour or so for rest. But we have arranged for a sumptuous -repast--roast duck and sausages and treacle pudding--at six o'clock, -and the C.O. and Providence permitting, we shall all turn in before -eight. We don't expect to move on from here till early the day after -to-morrow, and shall have our transport with us by then. I gather we -shall march all the way from here to the trenches; and really, you -know, it's an excellent education for all of us in the conditions of -the country. People at home don't realise what a big thing the domestic -side of soldiering is. Our C.O. knew, of course, because he is an old -campaigner. That's why, back there in England, he harried his officers -as he did. We have to know all there is to know about the feet, boots, -socks, food, cleanliness, and health of each one of our men, and it has -been made part of our religion that an officer must never, never, never -eat, sleep, or rest until he has personally seen to it that each man in -his command is provided for in these respects. He has made it second -nature to us, and since we reached France one has learned the wisdom -of his teaching. I must clear out now--a pow-wow at Battalion Orderly -Room: the village Ecole des Filles. The weather has completely changed. -There's a thin, crisp coating of snow over everything, and it's clear -and dry and cold. We're all rather tired, but fit as fleas, and awfully -thankful to be getting so near the firing line. So make your mind quite -easy about your - - "_Temporary Gentleman_." - - - - -THE TALE OF A TUB - - -If inclined to revile me for apparent neglect of you these last few -days, be charitable and revile lightly. - -It's astonishing how full one's days are. And then when late evening -arrives and arrangements for next morning are complete, and one's -been the round of one's platoon billets and seen all in order for the -night--then, instead of being free to write one's own letters, one -must needs wade through scores written by the men of one's platoon, -who--lucky beggars!--have three times the leisure we can ever get. -Their letters must all be censored and initialed, you see. Rightly -enough, I suppose, the military principle seems to be never to allow -the private soldier to be burdened by any responsibility which an -officer can possibly take. The giving away of military information in -a letter, whether inadvertently or knowingly, is, of course, a serious -offence. (German spies are everywhere.) When I have endorsed all my -platoon's letters, the responsibility for their contents rests on my -shoulders and the men run no risks. - -If I were an imitative bird now, you would find my letter reading -something after this style: - -"Just a few lines to let you know how we are getting on, hoping this -finds you in the pink as it leaves me at present. We are getting very -near the Germans now, and you can take it from me they'll get what for -when we come up with 'em. The grub here is champion, but we are always -ready for more, and I shan't be sorry to get that parcel you told me -of. Please put in a few fags next time. The French people have a queer -way of talking so you can't always understand all they say, but they're -all right, I can tell you, when you get to know 'em, and I can sling -their bat like one o'clock now. It's quite easy once you get the hang -of it, this bong jor and pang parley voo. Milk is lay, and not too easy -to get. The boys are all in the pink, and hoping you're the same, so no -more at present," etc. - -One sometimes gets mad with them for trifles, but for all the things -that really matter--God bless 'em all! By Jove! they _are_ Britons. -They're always "in the pink" and most things are "champion," and when -the ration-wagon's late and a man drops half his whack in the mud, he -grins and says, "The Army of to-day's all _right_"; and that, wait till -he gets into the trenches, he'll smarten the Boches up for that! Oh, -but they are splendid; and though one gets into the way of thinking -and saying one's own men are the best in the Army, yet, when one means -business one knows very well the whole of the New Army's made of the -same fine stuff. Why, in my platoon, and in our Company for that -matter, they are every mother's son of them what people at home call -rough, ignorant fellows. And I admit it. Rough they certainly are; -and ignorant, too, by school standards. But, by Jingo! their hearts -are in the right place, and I'd back any one of them against any two -goose-stepping Boches in the Kaiser's Prussian Guard. - -And, with it all, mind you, they're so English. I mean they are -_kind_, right through to their bones; good fellows, you know; -sportsmen, every one of 'em; fellows you'd trust to look after -your mother. They're as keen as mustard to get to the strafing of -Boches; but that's because the Boche is the enemy, war is war, and -duty is duty. You couldn't make haters of 'em, not if you paid 'em -all ambassadorial salaries to cultivate a scowl and sing hymns of -hate. Not them. Not all the powers of Germany and Austria could make -baby-killers, women-slayers, and church-destroyers of these chaps of -ours. If I know anything about it, they are fine soldiers, but the -Kaiser himself--"Kayser," they call him--couldn't make brutes and -bullies of 'em. Warm their blood--and, mind you, you can do it easily -enough, even with a football in a muddy field, when they've been on -carrying fatigues all day--and, by Jove! there's plenty of devil in -'em. God help the men in front of 'em when they've bayonets fixed! But -withal they're English sportsmen all the time, and a French child can -empty their pockets and their haversacks by the shedding of a few tears. - -But I run on (and my candle runs down) and I give you no news. This -is our last night here, and I ought to be asleep in my flea-bag, for -we make an early start to-morrow for our first go in the trenches. But -it's jolly yarning here to you, while the whole village is asleep, and -no chits are coming in, and the Battalion Orderly Room over the way is -black and silent as the grave, except for the sentry's footsteps in -the mud. I'm in rather good quarters here, in the Mayor's house. When -we left that first village--I'm afraid I haven't written since--we had -three days of marching, sleeping in different billets each night. Here -in this place, twelve miles from the firing line, we've had five days; -practising with live bombs, getting issues of trench kit, and generally -making last preparations. To-morrow night we sleep in tents close to -the line and begin going into trenches for instruction. - -But, look here, before I turn in, I must just tell you about this -household and my hot bath last night. The town is a queer little place; -farming centre, you know. The farm-houses are all inside the village, -and mine--M. le Maire's--is one of the best. From the street you see -huge great double doors, that a laden wagon can drive through, in a -white wall. That is the granary wall. You enter by the big archway into -a big open yard, the centre part of which is a wide-spreading dung-hill -and reservoir. All round the yard are sheds and stables enclosing -it, and facing you at the back the low, long white house, with steps -leading up to the front door, which opens into the kitchen. This is -also the living-room of M. le Maire and his aged mother. Their family -lived here before the Revolution, and the three sturdy young women and -one old, old man employed on the farm, all live in the house. - -M. le Maire is a warm man, reputed to have a thorough mastery of the -English tongue, among other things, as a result of "college" education. -So I gather from the really delightful old mother, who, though bent -nearly double, appears to run the whole show, including the Town Hall -opposite our Battalion Headquarters. I have never succeeded in inducing -the Mayor to speak a word of English, but he has a little dictionary -like a prayer-book, with perfectly blinding print, and somehow carries -on long and apparently enjoyable conversations with my batman (who -certainly has no French), though, as I say, one never heard a word of -English on his lips. - -I know what the newspapers are. They pretend to give you the war -news. But I'll bet they'll tell you nothing of yesterday's really -great event, when the Commander of No. 1 Platoon took a hot bath, as -it were under municipal auspices, attended by two Company Headquarters -orderlies, his own batman, and the cordially expressed felicitations -of his brother officers, not to mention the mayoral household, and the -whole of No. 1 Platoon, which is billeted in the Mayor's barns and -outbuildings. Early in the day the best wash-tub had been commandeered -for this interesting ceremony, and I fancy it has an even longer -history behind it than the Mayor's pre-Revolution home. It is not -definitely known that Marie Antoinette used this tub, bathing being -an infrequent luxury in her day; but if she had been cursed with our -modern craze for washing, and chanced to spend more than a year or -so in this mud-set village of M----, she certainly would have used -this venerable vessel, which, I gather, began life as the half of a -cider barrel, and still does duty of that sort on occasion, and as a -receptacle for the storing of potatoes and other nutritious roots, when -not required for the more intimate service of M. le Maire's mother, for -the washing of M. le Maire's corduroys and underwear, or by M. le Maire -himself, at the season of Michaelmas, I believe, in connection with the -solemn rite of his own annual bath, which festival was omitted this -year out of deference to popular opinion, because of the war. - -The household of the Mayor, headed by this respected functionary -himself, received me at the portals of his ancestral home and ushered -me most kindly and graciously, if with a dash of grave, half-pitying -commiseration, to what I thought at first was the family vault, -though, as I presently discovered, it was in reality the mayoral -salon or best parlour--as seen in war time--draped in sacking and -year-old cobwebs. Here, after some rather embarrassing conversation, -chiefly gesticulatory on my side--my conversational long suit is "Pas -du tout! Merci beaucoup," and "Mais oui, Madame," with an occasional -"Parfaitement," stirred in now and again, not with any meaning, but as -a kind of guarantee of good faith, because I think it sounds amiable, -if not indeed like my lambs in their billets, "Bien gentil," and "Très -convenable, Monsieur." It is thus they are invariably described to me -when I go inspecting. As I was saying, here I was presently left alone -with the household cat, two sick rabbits in a sort of cage which must -once have housed a cockatoo or parrot, my own little towel (a torn -half, you know, designed to reduce valise weight), my sponge (but, -alack! not my dear old worn-out nail-brush, now lying in trenches on -Salisbury Plain), and the prehistoric wash-tub, now one quarter filled -by what the Mayor regarded, I gathered, as perhaps the largest quantity -of hot water ever accumulated in one place--two kettles and one oil-can -full, carried by the orderlies. - -The cat and the rabbits watched my subsequent proceedings with the -absorbed interest of an intelligent mid-Victorian infant at its first -pantomime. The cat, I blush to say, was female, and old enough to know -better, but I trust the rabbits were of my own sex. Anyhow, they were -sick, so perhaps it doesn't matter. The entire mayoral household, with -my batman and others, were assembled in the big kitchen, separated -from the chamber of my ablutions only by a door having no kind of -fastening and but one hinge. Their silence was broken only by an -occasional profound sigh from the Mayor's aged mother, and three sounds -of reflective expectoration at considerable intervals from the Mayor -himself. So I judged my bathing to be an episode of rare and anxious -interest to the mayoral family. - -My feet I anointed copiously with a disgusting unguent of great -virtue--it's invaluable for lighting braziers when one's only fuel is -muddy coke and damp chits--called anti-frostbite grease, that is said -to guard us from the disease known as "Trench Feet," rumoured prevalent -in our sector by reason of the mellow quality and depth of its mud, -which, whilst apparently almost liquid, yet possesses enough body -and bouquet--remember how you used to laugh at our auction catalogue -superlatives in cellar lots?--to rob a man of his boots at times. For -my hands--chipped about a bit now--I used carbolated vaseline. (Do you -remember the preternaturally slow and wall-eyed salesman, with the -wart, in the Salisbury shop where we bought it?) And then, clothed most -sumptuously in virginal underwear, I crawled into my flea-bag, there to -revel from 10.40 P.M. to 6 A.M., as I am about to do now, less one hour -in the morning. How I wish one could consciously enjoy the luxury of -sleep while sleeping! Good night and God bless you! God bless all the -sweet, brave waiting women of England, and France, and Russia; and I -wish I could send a bit of my clean comfort to-night to as many as may -be of our good chaps, and France's _bon camarades_, out here. - -When next I write we shall have seen a bit of the trenches, I hope, and -so then you should have something more like real news from your - - "_Temporary Gentleman_." - - - - -THE TRENCHES AT LAST - - -You must forgive my not having sent anything but those two Field -Service post cards for a whole week, but, as our Canadian subaltern, -Fosset, says, it really has been "some" week. My notion was to write -you fully my very first impression of the trenches, but the chance -didn't offer, and perhaps it's as well. It couldn't be fresher in my -mind than it is now, and yet I understand it more, and see the thing -more intelligently than on the first night. - -We are now back in the village of B----, three miles from our -trenches. We are here for three days' alleged rest, and then, as a -Battalion, take over our own Battalion sub-sector of trenches. So -far, we have only had forty-eight hours in, as a Battalion; though, -as individuals, we have had more. When we go in again it will be as -a Battalion, under our own Brigade and Divisional arrangements, to -hold our own Brigade front, and be relieved later by the other two -Battalions of our Brigade. - -"A" Company is, I am sorry to say, in tents for these three days out; -tents painted to look like mud and grass (for the benefit of the Boche -airmen) and not noticeably more comfortable than mud and grass. An old -fellow having the extraordinary name of Bonaparte Pinchgare, has been -kind enough to lend us his kitchen and scullery for officers' mess and -quarters; and we, like the men, are contriving to have a pretty good -time, in despite of chill rain and all-pervading mud. We are all more -or less caked in mud, but we have seen Huns, fired at 'em, been fired -at by them, spent hours in glaring through rag and tin-decked barbed -wire at their trenches, and generally feel that we have been blooded to -trench warfare. We have only lost two men, and they will prove to be -only slightly wounded, I think; one, before he had ever set foot in a -trench--little Hinkson of my No. 2 section--and the other, Martin, of -No. 3 Platoon, only a few hours before we came out. - -Hinkson was pipped by a chance bullet in the calf of the leg, as we -passed through a wood, behind the support trench. Very likely a Boche -loosed that bullet off in mere idleness, a couple of thousand yards -away; and I doubt if it will mean even a Blighty for Hinkson. He may -be put right in the Field Ambulance or Clearing Station near here, -or, at farthest, down at the Base. Or he may chance to go across to -Blighty--the first casualty in the Battalion. The little chap was -furiously angry over getting knocked out before he could spot a Hun -through the foresight of his rifle, but his mate, Kennedy, has sworn to -lay out a couple of Boches for Hinkson, before he gets back to us, and -Kennedy will do it. - -First impressions! Do you know, I think my first impression was of -the difficulty of finding one's way about in a maze of muddy ditches -which all looked exactly alike, despite a few occasional muddy -notice-boards perched in odd corners: "Princes Street," "Sauchiehall -Street," "Manchester Avenue," "Stinking Sap," "Carlisle Road," and the -like. I had a trench map of the sector, but it seemed to me one never -could possibly identify the different ways, all mud being alike, and -no trench offering anything but mud to remember it by. In the front or -fire-trench itself, the firing line, one can hop up on the fire-step, -look round quickly between bullets, and get a bearing. But in all these -interminable communication and branch trenches where one goes to and -fro, at a depth varying from six to ten or twelve feet, seeing only -clay and sky, how the dickens could one find the way? - -And yet, do you know, so quickly are things borne in upon you in this -crude, savage life of raw realities, so narrow is your world, so vital -your need of knowing it; so unavoidable is your continuous alertness, -and so circumscribed the field of your occupation, that I feel now I -know nothing else in the world quite so well and intimately as I know -that warren of stinking mud: the two sub-sectors in which I spent last -week. Manchester Avenue, Carlisle Road, Princes Street, with all their -side alleys and boggy by-ways! Why, they are so photographed on the -lining of my brain that, if I were an artist (instead of a very muddy -subaltern ex-clerk) I could paint the whole thing for you--I wish I -could. Not only do I know them, but I've merely to shut my eyes to -see any and every yard of them; I can smell them now; I can feel the -precise texture of their mud. I know their hidden holes and traps, -where the water lies deep. I know to an inch where the bad breaks are -in the duck-boards that you can't see because the yellow water covers -them. Find one's way! I know them far better than I know the Thames -Embankment, the Strand, or Brixton Hill! That's not an exaggeration. - -Duck-boards, by the way, or duck-walks, are a kindly invention (of -the R.E., I suspect) to save soldiers from the bottomless pit, and to -enable officers on duty to cover rather more than a hundred yards an -hour in getting along their line of trench. Take two six-or eight-feet -lengths of two inches by four inches' scantling; nail two or three inch -bits of batten across these with two or three inch gaps between, the -width of the frame being, say, eighteen inches. Thus you have a grating -six or eight feet long and narrow enough to lie easily in the bottom of -a trench. If these gratings rest on trestles driven deep down into the -mud, and your trenches are covered by them throughout--well, then you -may thank God for all His mercies and proceed to the more interesting -consideration of strafing Boches, and avoiding being strafed by them. -If you haven't got these beneficent inventions of the R.E., and you are -in trenches like ours, then you will devote most of your energies to -strafing the R.E., or some other unseen power for good, through your -own headquarters, for a supply of duck-walks, and you will (if you are -wise) work night and day without check, in well and truly laying every -single length you can acquire. - -("Acquire" is a good, sound word. I would never blame a man for -stealing duck-walks from any source whatsoever--providing, of course, -he is not so far lost to all sense of decency as to steal 'em from "A" -Company; and even then, if he could manage it, his cleverness would -almost deserve forgiveness; and, equally, of course, that he's going -to use 'em for their legitimate purpose, and not just to squat on in a -dug-out; least of all for the absolutely criminal purpose of using as -fuel.) - -"What a fuss you make about mere things to walk on!" perhaps you'll -say. "I thought the one thing really important was getting to grips -with the enemy." Mmmf! Yes. Quite so. It is. But, madam, how to do it? -"There be ways and means to consider, look you, whateffer," as Billy -Morgan says. (Billy was the commander of No. 2 Platoon, you remember, -and now, as reserve Machine-Gun officer, swanks insufferably about -"the M.G. Section," shoves most of his Platoon work upon me, and will -have a dug-out of his own. We rot him by pretending to attribute these -things to the influence of his exalted compatriot, the Minister of -Munitions. As a fact, they are due to his own jolly hard work, and -really first-rate abilities.) - -This trench warfare isn't by any means the simple business you might -suppose, and neither, of course, is any other kind of warfare. There -can be no question of just going for the enemy bald-headed. He wishes -you would, of course; just as we wish to goodness _he_ would. You have -to understand that up there about the front line, the surrounding -air and country can at any moment be converted into a zone of living -fire--gas, projectiles, H.E. (High Explosive, you know) flame, bullets, -bursting shrapnel. If you raise a finger out of trenches by daylight, -you present Fritz with a target, which he will very promptly and -gratefully take, and blow to smithereens. That's understood, isn't it? -Right. To be able to fight, in any sort of old way at all, you must -continue to live--you and your men. To continue to live you must have -cover. Hence, nothing is more important than to make your trenches -habitable, and feasible; admitting, that is, of fairly easy and quick -communication. - -To live, you see, you must eat and drink. The trenches contain no -A B C's. Every crumb of bread, every drop of tea or water, like -every cartridge you fire, must be carried up from the rear on men's -shoulders, along many hundreds of yards of communicating trenches. -Also, in case you are suddenly attacked, or have to attack, quick -movement is vital. Nature apparently abhors a trench, which is a kind -of a vacuum, and not precisely lovable, anyhow; and, in this part of -the world, she proceeds wherever possible to fill it with water. Pumps? -Why, certainly. But clay and slush sides cave in. Whizz-bangs and H.E. -descend from on high displacing much porridge-like soil. Men hurrying -to and fro day and night, disturb and mash up much earth in these -ditches. And, no matter how or why, there is mud; mud unspeakable and -past all computation. Consider it quietly for a moment, and you will -feel as we do about duck-walks--I trust the inventor has been given -a dukedom--and realise the pressing importance of various material -details leading up to that all-important strafing of Boches. - -But there, the notion of trying to tell you about trenches in one -letter is, I find, hopelessly beyond me, and would only exhaust you, -even if I could bring it off. I can only hope gradually to get some -sort of a picture into your mind, so that you will have a background -of sorts for such news of our doings as I'm able to send you as we go -on. Just now, I am going to tackle an alarming stack of uncensored -letters from Nos. 1 and 2 Platoons--some of the beggars appear to be -extraordinarily polygamous in the number of girls they write to; bless -'em!--and then to turn in and sleep. My goodness, it's a fine thing, -sleep, out of trenches! But I'll write again, probably to-morrow. - -The men are all remarkably fit and jolly. One or two old hands here -have told me the line we are taking over is really pretty bad. -Certainly it was a revelation to our fellows, after the beautiful, -clean tuppenny-tubes of trenches we constructed on Salisbury Plain. -But one hears no grousing at all, except of the definitely humorous -and rather pleased kind--rather bucked about it, you know--the men are -simply hungry for a chance to "get" at the Hun, and they work like -tigers at trench betterment. We are all well and jolly, and even if -sometimes you don't hear often, there's not the slightest need to worry -in any way about your - - "_Temporary Gentleman_." - - - - -A DISSERTATION ON MUD - - -The second of our rest days is over, and to-morrow night we shall go -into the firing line and relieve the ----s. We shall march back the -way we came out, down the sad-looking green valley round the lips of -which some of our batteries are hidden; through the deserted streets -of ----, with its boarded-up shops and houses; on over the weed-grown -railway track, through a little village whose church is still unbroken; -though few of its cottage windows have any glass left in them; across -the busy little river to Ambulance Corner--a favourite target for Boche -shells, that bit of road--and so through the wooded hollow where the -German gas lies deadly thick when it comes, into the foot of Manchester -Avenue, the long communication trench leading up to the Battalion's -trench headquarters in the support line, where "A" Company will branch -off to the right, "B" to the left, and "C" to the extreme left of our -sub-sector. - -That town I mentioned--not the little village close to Ambulance -Corner, where most roofs and walls show shell-torn rents and a few are -smashed to dust--is rather like a city of the dead. It has a cathedral -which the gentle Hun has ranged on with thoughtful frightfulness. -But though, under the guidance of his aerial observers, the Boche -has smashed up that cathedral pretty thoroughly, and its tower has -great gaping chunks riven out of its sides by shells, yet, as folk -say miraculously, its crowning attraction, a monstrous gilt figure of -the Madonna and Child, thirty to fifty feet high, remains intact. But -this remarkable gilt statue has been undermined at its base by H.E. -shell, and now hangs over at right angles to the street far below it--a -most extraordinary sight. The devout naturally claim that no German -projectile will prove powerful enough to lower the sacred emblem any -farther. Boche savagery in France has not weakened anyone's faith, I -think; possibly the reverse. - -A foundry or factory near by is now a tangled mass of scrap iron, and -as one marches through the town one has queer intimate glimpses of -deserted bedroom interiors, with homely furnishings exposed to all the -weather, where a shell has sliced one wall clean down from a first or -second storey and left the ground floor intact. - -But I was going to tell you about trenches. When I first began to walk -up Manchester Avenue, my thought was, "There's nothing much to grumble -at here. I call this pretty good. A little sloppy under foot perhaps, -but really nothing to write home about." I've often laughed at that -since. For several hundred yards it cuts through a ridge of chalk. It -is wide enough to enable one to pass a man in it anywhere with comfort. -Its parapet and parados tower white, clean, and unbroken a foot or so -over your head. Its sides are like the sides of a house or a tunnel; -good, dry, solid chalk, like our Salisbury trenches, with never a sign -of caving in about them. And on the hard bottom under foot-perhaps two -or three inches of nice clean chalky slime and water. It has a gentle -gradient which makes it self-draining. - -You could easily go right up it to Battalion Headquarters in the -support trench in ordinary marching boots, and be none the worse. -And since then I've known what it means to get a bootful of muddy -water, when wearing trench boots; rubber thigh-boots, you know, with -straps buckling to your belt. The change begins a little way above the -Battalion Headquarters dug-out, in support line. You leave the chalk -behind you and get into clay, and then you leave the clay behind you -and get into yellow porridge and treacle. And then you come to a nice -restful stretch of a couple of hundred yards or so, in which you pray -for more porridge; and it seems you're never coming to any more. This -is a vein of glue in the section which "A" will go to-morrow night. - -"Very old and curious!" "Remarkably fine, full body!" Oh! that glue -vein is from the end bin, genuine old-vatted, I can assure you. It must -have eaten up some hundreds of pairs of boots by now, and a regular -Noah's Ark full of trench stores, ammunition, and other useful material. - -The glue vein probably had a bottom in bygone days, but now I fancy -the Hun has knocked the bottom out of it. In any case, we never met -anyone who had found bottom in that bit of line, and as the tallest man -in the company is only six foot two, I hope we never shall. At first -you think you will skip along quick, like skating fast on very thin -ice, and with feet planted far apart, so as to get the support of the -trench sides. That bit of trench is possessed of devils, and they laugh -when you stretch your legs, meaning to get through with it as quick as -you can. The glue's so thick and strong, after the soupy stuff you've -been wading through, that you welcome the solid look of it. (That's -where the devils begin their chuckling.) - -Perhaps at the first few steps you only sink about a foot, leaving your -knees easily clear. "Oh! come!" you say (and that's where the devils -of the glue patch laugh out loud). At the next step you go in a little -deeper, and in your innocence give quite a sharp tug to lift your -foot. You lift it all right, perhaps half-way up the leg of your boot, -possibly ripping off a brace button in the process, if you've been -unwise enough to fasten up the top straps of your boots that way. (The -devils go on laughing.) Then you pause, reflectively, while shoving -your foot down in your boot again, and take a good look round you, -wondering what sort of a place you've struck. (This is where the devils -have to hold their sides in almost painful hilarity.) - -While you reflect you sink, so slowly and softly that you don't notice -it till you try the next step. And then, with the devils of that -section roaring their ugly Hunnish heads off all round you, if you -have no better luck than Tommy Dodd had, his first night in, you may -continue reflecting for quite a long while, till somebody comes along -who knows that particular health resort. Then two or three Samaritans -with picks and shovels and a post or two will be brought, and, very -laboriously, you'll be dug and levered out; possibly with your boots, -possibly without either them or your socks. - -But what reduces the devils to helpless, tearful contortions of -merriment, is a coincidental decision on the part of a Boche gunner -to start peppering that bit of trench with shrap., or a machine-gun, -during your reflective period. Then it's great; a really first-class -opportunity for reviewing the errors of your past life. - -After this substantial _pièce de résistance_ (yes, thanks, I'm -progressing very nicely with my French this term), you come to a -delicately refreshing dessert in Sauchiehall Street, where the water -lies very deep in most parts, but so sweetly liquid as to wash the glue -well off up to our coat pockets. This innocent stuff can be pumped -out quite easily, and is pumped out every day, into a gully, which -we devoutly hope leads well into a Boche sap. But pump as you will, -it fills up very rapidly. And so, with new washed boots (and coat -pockets) to Whizz-bang Corner, where Sauchiehall Street enters the fire -trench, and the Hun loves to direct his morning and evening hymns of -hate in the hope of catching tired ration-carriers, and, no doubt, of -spilling their rations. It was there that Martin of No. 3 Platoon got -his quietener on the morning we came out. But with luck and no septic -trouble, hell be back in a month or so. The surroundings are a bit -toxic, as you may imagine. That's why, after even the slightest wound, -they inoculate with anti-tetanus--marvellously successful stuff. - -The fire trench in this particular bit is rather a mockery, as "the -Peacemaker" said, when he tried to climb out of it, our first night -in, to have a look at the barbed wire and No Man's Land. He had a -revolver in one hand and a bomb in the other, but I am pleased to say -the safety-pin of that bomb was efficient; and, in any case, I relieved -him of it after he fell back the second time. The sides of that trench -have been so unmercifully pounded by the Boche, and the rain has been -so persistent of late that the porridge here is more like gruel than -the breakfast dish, and the average sand-bag in the parapet, when -not submerged, is as unfriendly to get a grip on, as one of those -crustaceous pink bombs they sometimes swindle you with at restaurants. -You know, the kind you chase round your plate and find splinter-proof. - -Thirty or forty yards north from Whizz-bang Corner, in the fire trench, -you come to a loop turn to the rear called Whitehall, not because -there's a War Office there, but because there's a queer little vein -of chalk which disappointingly peters out again in less than a dozen -paces. That leads to the Company Headquarters dug-out; an extraordinary -hole, I thought, when I first saw it; a jolly nice, homely dug-out -I think it now, and with a roof--well, not shell-proof, you know, -but water-tight, and quite capable of standing a whizz or a grenade, -or anything short of serious H.E. You stride over a good little dam -and then down two steps to get into it, and it has a real door, -carried up, I suppose, from the village in the rear. It also has a -gilt-edged looking-glass, a good packing-case table, the remains of two -wooden chairs, two shelves made of rum-jar cases, and two good solid -wire-strung bunks, one over the other. There's no doubt it is some -dug-out. - -And, madam, don't you go for to think that there's anything -contemptible about our trenches, anyhow. Perhaps I pitched it a bit -strong about that glue patch. In any case, I promise you two things: -(1) They'll be very different trenches before long if "A" Company has -two or three turns of duty in them. (2) They're every bit as good as, -and a bit better than, the trenches opposite, where the Hun is; and I -know it _because I've been there_. I meant to have told you of that -to-night, but I've left it too late, and must wait for my next letter. -But it's quite right. I've had a look at their front line and found it -distinctly worse than ours, and got back without a scratch, to sign -myself still your - - "_Temporary Gentleman_." - - - - -TAKING OVER ON A QUIET NIGHT - - -Last evening brought an end to our rest cure, as I told you it would, -and saw us taking over out section of the firing line. Now I have just -turned into the Company dug-out for a rest, having been pretty much on -the hop all night except for a short spell between two and four this -morning. As I think I told you, this is not at all a bad dug-out, and -quite weather-proof. It has two decent bunks one over the other. We all -use it as a mess, and "the Peacemaker," Taffy Morgan, and myself use it -for sleeping in; Tony and "the Infant" kipping down (when they get the -chance) in a little tiny dug-out that we made ourselves when we were in -here for instruction, just the other side of Whizz-bang Corner, in the -fire trench. - -You remember "the Infant," don't you? No. 4 Platoon. His father's -doctoring now in the R.A.M.C. He's a nice boy, and has come on a -lot since we got out here. He was to have been a land surveyor, or -something of that sort, and has a first-rate notion of trench work and -anything like building. - -In writing to you I'd like to avoid, if I could, what seems to be a -pretty common error among men at the front, and one that leads to some -absurd misapprehensions among people at home. I remember listening once -in a tram-car at home to two Tommies, one of whom had returned from -the front. The other was asking him how they managed in the matter of -shifting wounded men back to some place where they could be attended to. - -"Oh! that's simple enough," said the chap who'd been out. "They've a -regular routine for that. You see, there are always barges waiting, and -when you're wounded they just dump you on board a barge and take you -down the canal to where the dressing station is." - -"I see; so that's the way it's done," said the other man. - -And I could see that the impression left on his mind was that barges -were in waiting on a canal right along the five hundred miles of -Franco-British line. - -You see what I mean. A fellow out here knows only his own tiny bit -of front, and he's very apt to speak of it as if it were _the_ Front, -and folk at home are apt to think that whatever is applicable to -their man's particular mile or so is applicable to the whole Front. -Which, of course, is wildly wrong and misleading. When in trenches one -battalion may find itself in a wood, another on a naked hillside, one -in the midst of a ruined village, with the cellars of smashed cottages -for dug-outs, and another with its trenches running alongside a river -or canal. So don't make the mistake of thinking that what I tell you -applies to the Front generally, although in a great many matters it may -be typical enough. - -Now you'd like to know about the business of taking over these -trenches. Well, this was the way of it. "The Peacemaker," our noble -Company Commander, came on here in advance yesterday afternoon, -with the Company Sergeant-Major. Our Company S.M., by the way, is a -remarkably fine institution, and, I think, the only real ex-regular -we have in the Company. He's an ex-N.C.O. of Marines, and a really -splendid fellow, who is out now for a V.C., and we all hope he'll get -it. He and "the Peacemaker" came along about three hours ahead of us, -leaving me to bring the Company. "The Peacemaker" went carefully all -over this line with the O.C. of the Company we relieved, noted the -sentry posts and special danger spots--unhealthy places, you know, more -exposed to Boche fire than others--and generally took stock and made -his plans for us. - -I forgot to say that a Sergeant from each platoon accompanied "the -Peacemaker" and the S.M., so as to be able to guide their respective -platoons in to their own bits of the line when they arrived. Then the -S.M. checked over all the trench stores--picks, shovels, wire, pumps, -small-arm ammunition, rockets, mud-scoops, trench repair material, -and all that--with the list held by the S.M. of the Company we were -relieving, which our own beloved "Peacemaker," had to sign "certified -correct," you know. Meantime, "the Peacemaker" took over from the other -O.C. Company a report of work done and to be done--repairing parapets, -laying duck-walks, etc.--though in this case I regret to remark the -only very noticeable thing was the work to be done, or so it seems to -us--and generally posted himself up and got all the tips he could. - -Just about dusk "A" Company led the way out of B----, and marched the -way I told you of to Ambulance Corner. Needless to say, they presented -a fine soldierly appearance, led and commanded as they were for the -time by your "Temporary Gentleman." There was a certain liveliness -about Ambulance Corner when we reached it, as there so frequently is, -and I am sorry to say poor "B" Company in our rear had two men wounded, -one fatally. I took "A" Company at the double, in single file, with -a yard or so between men, across the specially exposed bit at the -corner, and was thankful to see the last of 'em bolt into the cover of -Manchester Avenue without a casualty. It gave me some notion of the -extra anxiety that weighs on the minds of O.C. Companies who take their -responsibilities seriously, as I think most of 'em do. - -Then, when we were getting near Whizz-bang Corner, we were met by the -four platoon N.C.O.'s who had gone on in advance with the Coy. S.M., -and they guided the platoons to their respective sections of our line. -Meantime, you understand, not a man of the Company we were relieving -had left the line. The first step was for us to get our platoon -Sergeants to post sentries to relieve each one of those of the other -Company, on the fire-step, and we ourselves were on hand with each -group, to see that the reliefs thoroughly understood the information -and instructions they got from the men they relieved. Then our advance -N.C.O.'s showed the other men of their platoons such dug-outs as were -available for them--a pretty thin lot in this section, but we shall -tackle the job of increasing and improving 'em as soon as we can, while -we Platoon Commanders had a buck with the Platoon Commanders of the -other Company. - -Finally, "the Peacemaker" shook hands with the O.C. of the Company -we relieved outside Company Headquarters--that's this dug-out--the -other fellow wished him luck, both of them, separately, telephoned -down to Battalion Headquarters (in the support trenches) reporting -the completion of the relief, and the last of the other Company filed -away out down Sauchiehall Street to Manchester Avenue, billets and -"alleged rest." As a matter of fact, they are to get some real rest, I -believe, another Company of our Brigade being billeted in the village -just behind the lines this week, to do all the carrying fatigues at -night--bringing up trench-repair material and all that. - -It was a quiet night, with no particular strafing, and that's all to -the good, because, in the first place, it gives us a better chance to -study the line again by daylight, and, again, it enables us to get on -quickly with certain very necessary trench repairs. We had half the -Company working all night at the parapet, which had some very bad gaps, -representing a serious multiplication of unhealthy spots, which have -to be passed many times day and night, and must always be dangerous -to pass. The Boche is pretty nippy in locating gaps of this sort and -getting his snipers and machine-gunners to range on them, so that -unless they are repaired casualties are certain. One repairs them by -building up the gaps with sand-bags, and for these it is necessary to -find approximately dry earth: a pretty difficult job in this section. - -No strafing and a quiet night! I wonder how you, and people generally -at home, interpret that? "The rest of the Front was quiet"; "Nothing of -interest to report"; "Tactical situation unchanged," and so on. They -are the most familiar report phrases, of course. - -Well, there was a time last night, or, rather, between two and four -this morning, when on our particular section there was no firing at -all beyond the dropping rifle fire of the Boche sentries opposite and -a similar desultory fire from our sentries. Now and again a bullet so -fired may get a man passing along a communication trench, or, more -likely, of course, a man exposed, either on patrol in No Man's Land or -in working on the parapet. More often they hit nobody. During the same -time, in our particular section, a flare-light went up from the Boche -line opposite, I suppose about every other minute. That's to give their -sentries a chance of seeing any patrol we may have creeping about in -their direction. - -During all the rest of this quiet night of no strafing there was -just "normal fire." That is to say, the Boche machine-guns sprayed -our parapet and the intervening bit of No Man's Land, maybe, once -every quarter of an hour. Their rifle fire was more continuous; their -flares and parachute and star-lights the same. Eight or ten times in -the night they gave us salvoes of a dozen whizz-bangs. Twice--once -at about ten, and again about twelve--they gave our right a bit of a -pounding with H.E., and damaged the parapet a little. Once they lobbed -four rifle grenades over our left from a sap they have on that side. -But we had been warned about that, and gave 'em gyp for it. We had a -machine-gun trained on that sap-head of theirs, and plastered it pretty -effectually, so quickly that I think we must have got their grenadiers. -They shut up very promptly, anyhow, and a bombing patrol of ours that -got to the edge of their sap half an hour later found not a creature -there to bomb. - -Our fire during the night was similar to theirs, but a bit less. "The -Peacemaker" has a strong prejudice in favour of saving his ammunition -for use on real live targets, and I think he's right. We had one man -slightly wounded, and that's all. And I think that must be admitted -to be pretty good, seeing that we were at work along the parapet all -night. That is a specimen of a really quiet night. - -At Stand-to this morning Fritz plastered our parapet very thoroughly -with his machine-guns, evidently thinking we were Johnny Raws. He -wasted hundreds of rounds of ammunition over this. We were all -prepared. Not a head showed, and my best sniper, Corporal May, got one -of their machine-gun observers neatly through the head. Our lines are -only a hundred yards apart just there. - -But I must turn in, old thing, or I'll get no rest to-day. I know -I haven't told you about the look I had at the Boche trenches. But -perhaps I'll have something better to tell when I next write. - -Meantime, we are as jolly as sand-boys, and please remember that you -need not be in the least anxious about your - - "_Temporary Gentleman_." - - - - -"WHAT IT'S LIKE" - - -The wonder is, not that I didn't get the one post card you mention, -but that you apparently have had everything I have written. Really, I -do think the British postal arrangements out here are one of the most -remarkable features of the war. The organisation behind our lines is -quite extraordinary. Right up here in the firing line itself we get -our letters and parcels every day. In the midst of a considerable -bombardment I have seen fellows in artillery shelters in the line -reading letters and opening parcels of little luxuries just received -from home. - -It's very nice of you to copy out my letters for friends at home to -read. One simply can't hope to write to a number of different people, -you know, because any spare time going one wants to use for sleep. I'm -sorry I've omitted to tell you about some things I promised to explain, -and must try to do better. - -As to the time I saw into the Boche trenches while we were in for -instruction, that was nothing really; due to my own stupidity, as a -matter of fact, and I dare say that's why I said nothing about it. It -was our second night in for instruction, and the Company we were with -was sending out a small bombing patrol, so, of course, I asked if I -could go too, and see what was to be seen. The O.C. of the Company -very kindly let me go, and take with me Corporal Slade, of my platoon, -an excellent chap, and very keen to learn. I wish he could have had a -better teacher. - -While close to the Boche wire our little party--only five, all -told--sighted a Boche patrol quite twenty strong, and our officer in -charge very properly gave the word to retire to a flank and get back -to our own trench, or, rather, to a sap leading from it, so as to give -warning of the Boche patrol. This was where, in my experience, I went -wrong and led Slade astray. I was very curious, of course, to have a -good look at the Boche patrol--the first I'd seen of the enemy in the -open--and, like a fool, managed to get detached from the other three of -our lot, Slade sticking close to me with a confidence I didn't deserve. - -When I realised that the others were clean out of sight, and the Boche -party too, I made tracks as quickly as I could--crawling, you know--as -I believed for our line, cursing myself for not having a compass, a -mistake you may be sure I shall not make again. Just then a regular -firework display of flares went up from the Boche line, and they opened -a hot burst of machine-gun fire. We lay as close as we could in the -soggy grass, Slade and myself, and got no harm. Things were lively for -a while, with lots of fire from both sides, and more light from both -sides than was comfortable. - -Later, when things had quietened down, we got on the move again, and -presently, after a longish crawl through barbed wire, reached the -parapet, and were just about to slide in, side by side, pretty glad to -be back in the trench, when a fellow came round the traverse--we were -just beside a traverse--growled something, and jabbed at Slade with his -bayonet. - -Bit confusing, wasn't it? Makes you think pretty quick. I suppose we -realised we had struck the Boche line instead of our own in something -under the twentieth part of a second, and what followed was too -confused for me to remember much about. No doubt we both recognised -the necessity for keeping that chap quiet in the same fraction of time -that we saw we had reached the wrong trenches. I can remember the jolly -feeling of my two thumbs in his throat. It was jolly, really, though I -dare say it will seem beastly to you. And I suspect Slade did for the -chap. We were lying on a duck-board at the bottom of the trench, and I -know my little trench dagger fell and made a horrid clatter, which I -made sure would bring more Boches. But it didn't. - -I am sorry to say I left the little dagger there, but I collared the -Boche's rifle and bayonet, thinking that was the only weapon I had, and -clean forgetting the two Mills bombs in my pockets. Slade was a perfect -brick and behaved all through like the man he is. We were anxious -to make tracks without unnecessary delay, but, being there, thought -we might as well have a look at the trench. We crept along two bays -without hearing or seeing a soul. And then we heard a man struggling -in deep mud and cursing in fluent German. I've thought since, perhaps, -we ought to have waited for him and tried a bomb on him. But at the -same time came several other different voices, and I whispered to Slade -to climb out and followed him myself without wasting any time. The -trench was a rotten bad one at this point, worse, I think, than any -of ours. And I was thankful for it, because if it had been good those -Boches would surely have been on us before we could get out. As it was, -the mud held them, and the noises they made grovelling about in it -prevented them from hearing our movements, though we made a good deal -of noise, worrying through their wire, especially as I was dragging -that Boche rifle, with bayonet fixed. - -There were glimmering hints of coming daylight by the time we got into -the open, which made it a bit easier to take a bearing, and also pretty -necessary to have done with it quickly, because in another half-hour -we should have been a target for the whole Boche line. Here again -Slade was first-rate. He recognised a big shell-hole in the ground, -which he had noticed was about fifty yards north of the head of a sap -leading from our own line, and that guided us in to the same opening -in our wire from which we had originally started. Fine chap, Slade! -Three minutes later we were in our own trench, and I got a good tot of -rum for both of us from the O.C. Company, who'd made up his mind he'd -have to report us "Missing." So, you see, you didn't miss much by not -being told all about this before, except an instance of carelessness -on my part, which might have been more costly if I hadn't had a most -excellent chap with me. "The Peacemaker's" going to recommend him for -Lance-Sergeant's stripes, by the way, when we get out of trenches this -time. - -You know, that question of yours about what it is really "like" here at -the front isn't nearly so easy to answer as you might suppose. You must -just be patient. I'll tell you things as I learn them and see them, -gradually; and, gradually, too, you must try to piece 'em together till -they make some sort of picture for you. If I were a real writer I might -be able to make it all clear in one go, but--well, it's not easy. - -I've told you about the trenches on the way up from Ambulance Corner, -the communication trenches, that is, running up at right angles to -the firing line. The chief difference between the firing line and the -communication trenches, of course, is that it faces the Boche front -line, running roughly parallel to it, and that, say eighteen inches -above the bottom of it, there is a fire-step running along its front -side. When you get up on that you have a fire position: that is, you -can see over the parapet, across No Man's Land, to the Boche front -line, and fire a rifle. - -The lines of trenches are not straight, of course. They curve about -according to the nature of the ground. Running out from them on both -sides towards the enemy lines there are saps, at the end of which we -station listening posts at night with wired-up telephone and bell -connections with the firing line. Roughly speaking, a fire trench is -cut out rather like this: - - ---------+ +------------+ +------------+ +-------- - | | | | | | ------+ +---+ +------+ +---+ +------+ +---+ +----- - | | | | | | - +---------+ +---------+ +---------+ - - -with traverses every twenty or thirty paces, so as to make it -impossible for an enemy on your flank to get what is called enfilade -fire down and along the trench. Enfilade fire is deadly, of course. -Fire from the front, on the other hand, if it falls short or overshoots -the mark even by a yard lands in front of or behind your trench. You -get that? - -And what does it look like when one stares out from one's front -trench? Well, it depends. It's always pretty queer, but it's queerest -at night, when the Boche is sending up his ghostly flares, or when -there's enough moonlight to make you fancy all the time you can see all -manner of things. First, there's your own parapet, anything from five -to five-and-twenty feet of it, sloping gradually down to the open grass -of No Man's Land. That's what stops the bullets destined for your head. -When Boche shells are well enough placed to blow it in, you must build -it up again as soon as you can, or the bit of trench behind it will be -exposed, and as your men pass to and fro there will be casualties. - -Well, then, anything from ten to twenty or thirty feet beyond the lip -of your trench, your wire entanglements begin, and extend, say a good -thirty or forty paces out into No Man's Land. You've seen barbed-wire -entanglements in pictures: row after row of stakes (some of ours are -iron screw standards now, that can be set up silently) laced together -across and across by barbed wire, forming an obstacle which it is -particularly difficult and beastly to get through, especially at night, -which, of course, is the only time you could even approach it without -being blown to bits. - -Here and there all through our wire are old bells, tin cans, bits of -flattened tin, and oddments of that sort hanging loosely, so that when -even a rat begins cavorting about in the wire at night your sentries -know about it, and the Boche is neither so slim nor so agile as a rat. -Say that he comes by night with bombs in his hand. One cannot throw a -bomb with any accuracy of aim more than twenty or thirty yards. Boche -finds himself stopped by our wire, say fifty or sixty yards from our -line. If he slowly worms himself in, say twenty paces, without being -heard--and he won't--and lobs a bomb at our line, imagine the hail -of lead that's coming about him as he tries to wriggle his way back -through the wire after shying his bomb! - -But, as a matter of fact, the Boche is not good at that game. He does -not shine at all at creep-in on our line. When he leaves his trenches -at all he seems to prefer coming out in pretty close formation, rubbing -shoulders with his pals. Our fellows are a good deal better at sculling -about over the sticks than he is. - -Here and there in the wire, among the tin cans and things, you can see -fluttering bits of weather-worn uniform and old rags, and, at times, -things more gruesome. Beyond the wire you see the strip of No Man's -Land. Where we are, the average width of it is round about a hundred -yards. In some places it's more, and in one place we can see, perhaps -a mile off, it narrows down to much less than half that. Then begins -the Boche wire, and through and across that you see the Boche front -line, very much like your own, too much like your own to be very easily -distinguished from it at night. - -But that's a wonderful thing, that strip we call No Man's Land, -running from the North Sea to Switzerland, five hundred miles. All -the way along that line, day and night, without a moment's cessation, -through all these long months, men's eyes have been glaring across that -forsaken strip, and lead has been flying to and fro over it. To show -yourself in it means death. But I have heard a lark trilling over it -in the early morning as sweetly as any bird ever sang over an English -meadow. A lane of death, five hundred miles long, strewn from end to -end with the remains of soldiers! And to either side of it, throughout -the whole of these five hundred miles, a warren of trenches, dug-outs, -saps, tunnels, underground passages, inhabited, not by rabbits, but by -millions of rats, it's true, and millions of hiving, busy men, with -countless billions of rounds of death-dealing ammunition, and a complex -organisation as closely ordered and complete as the organisation of any -city in England! - -It's also inhabited at this moment by one man who simply must stop -scribbling, and have some grub before going on duty. This one among the -millions, with the very healthy appetite, manages, in despite of all -the strafing, to think quite a lot about you, and hopes you will go on -thinking equally cheerily of him--your - - "_Temporary Gentleman_." - - - - -THE DUG-OUT - - -Here's an odd coincidence. The second sentence in your letter that -reached me last night (with our rations of candles and coke) says: "Do -tell me just what a dug-out is like." You are always asking me what -something or other is "like," which forces upon me the sad conclusion -that my letters are not in the least descriptive. But, "Do not shoot -the pianist: he is doing his best," and if I had the pen of a readier -writer you may be sure I'd use it. Yet the odd thing is, with regard to -this particular command for information, I have the pen of a readier -writer. You know Taffy Morgan--Billy--of our Company? Well, it seems -he's quite a bit of a writer, and occasionally sends things home to his -father who, is trying to keep a consecutive narrative of the doings of -the Battalion. Now last night, within an hour of getting your letter, -I read a thing Taffy showed me that he was sending home, all about a -Company Headquarters dug-out in the line: much more decent than my -scribbles. So I've asked him to let me copy some of it, and here it is -pat, in answer to your question: - -"'Dug-out' is the only word for it. I don't know who did the -christening, but it is, like so many words and phrases adopted without -question by Tommy at the front, the one proper, exact, and adequate -name for the places we inhabit in the trenches. The particular dug-out -I have in mind is a Company Headquarters, situated, like a good many -others, in a loop trench, perhaps seventy to a hundred yards long, -which curves round at a distance of twenty or thirty yards in rear -of the fire-trench. The average depth of this little back-water of a -trench is, say, seven feet. It was made by the French before we took -over, and is very wide at the top. It has no made parapet, but is just -a gaping ditch, its ragged, receding top edges eight or ten feet apart, -the lower part, in which one walks, being two to three feet wide. The -bottom of this ditch is duck-walked: that is to say, it has wooden -gratings six feet long and eighteen inches wide laid along it. Each -length of duck-walk is supported at either end by a trestle driven deep -down into the mud. - -"Here and there at a bend in the trench there will be a gap of several -inches between duck-walks. Again one finds a place where one or two -slats have been broken. These are cheerless pitfalls on a dark night, -in which it is easy to sink one leg in mud or water over the knee. -In places a duck-walk has canted over by losing its bearings on the -trestle at one corner, giving the whole a treacherous list to one side -or the other, simple enough to negotiate by day, but unpleasant for -anyone hurrying along at night. Still, the trench is 'ducked' and, so -far, luxurious, and a vast improvement on the sort of trench (common -over the way among the Boches, I believe) in which men lose their -boots, and have to be dug out themselves. - -"It happens that my picture of this Company Headquarters dug-out is a -three o'clock in the morning picture: moonless, and the deadest hour of -the night, when Brother Boche is pretty generally silent, save for a -mechanical sort of dropping rifle fire: a fire which one knows somehow, -from its sound, means nothing, unless perhaps it means a certain number -of German sentries sleepily proving to themselves that they are awake. -In the same desultory fashion, Boche, nearly two hundred yards away -across the wire entanglements and the centre strip of No Man's Land, -sends up a flare of parachute light every few minutes, which, for half -a minute, fills our black ditch with a queer, ghostly sort of radiance, -making its dank and jagged sides to gleam again, and drawing curses -from anyone feeling his way along it, even as motor lights in a country -lane at home make a pedestrian curse on a dark night. - -"As one gropes along this ditch one comes to narrow gaps here and -there in the side farthest from the enemy. These lead to all kinds of -odd necessary places: the homes of signallers, runners, and others, -refuse pits, bomb and trench stores, and so on. Presently a thin streak -of light shows like a white string in the blackness. This is one of -the gaps, about four feet high and eighteen inches wide. A dripping -waterproof sheet hangs as a curtain over this gap: the white string is -the light from within escaping down one side of the sheet. Lift the -sheet to one side, take two steps down and forward--the sheet dripping -on your neck the while--and you are in the Company Headquarters -dug-out: a hole dug out of the back of the ditch, its floor two feet -below the level of the duck-boards outside, its internal dimensions ten -feet by eight by six. - -"At the back of this little cave, facing you as you enter--and -unless you go warily you are apt to enter with a rush, landing on the -earthen floor in a sitting position, what with the wet slime on your -gum boots and the steps--are two bunks, one above the other, each two -feet wide and made of wire netting stretched on rough stakes fastened -to stout poles and covered more or less by a few empty sand-bags. One -of these is the bunk of the O.C. Company, used alternatively by one of -his subalterns. In the other, a Platoon Commander lies now asleep, one -gum-booted leg, mud-caked well above the knee, dangling over the front -edge, a goatskin coat over his shoulders, his cap jammed hard down over -his eyes to shut out the light of the candle which, stayed firmly to -the newspaper tablecloth by a small island of its own grease, burns as -cheerily as it can in this rather draughty spot, sheltered a little -from the entrance by a screen consisting of a few tins half full of -condensed milk, butter, sugar, and the like. The officer in the bunk is -sleeping as though dead, and the candle-light catching the mud-flecked -stubble on his chin suggests that his turn in the trenches should be -at least half over. Another few days should bring him to billets and -shaving water." - -(Here, then, in addition to the description of a dug-out, you have a -portrait of your "Temporary Gentleman," rather unmercifully touched in, -I thought!) - -"The table--say, 30 inches by 20 inches--was made from a packing-case, -and is perched on rough stake legs against the earthen side of the -dug-out, with a shelf over it which was formerly a case holding two -jars of rum. On the shelf are foodstuffs, Very lights, a couple of -rockets, a knobkerrie, a copy of _Punch_, a shortbread tin full -of candles, a map, an automatic pistol, and, most curiously, a -dust-encrusted French cookery-book, which has taken on the qualities -of an antique, and become a kind of landlord's fixture among 'trench -stores' in the eyes of the ever-changing succession of company -commanders who have 'taken over,' week in and week out, since the -French occupation in '14. - -"Hung about the sides of the dug-out are half-empty canvas packs or -valises, field-glasses, a couple of periscopes, a Very pistol, two -sticks caked all over with dry mud, an oilskin coat or two similarly -varnished over with the all-pervading mud of the trench, a steel -helmet, a couple of pairs of field boots and half a dozen pictures -from illustrated papers, including one clever drawing of a grinning -cat, having under it the legend, 'Smile, damn you!' The field boots -are there, and not in use, because the weather is of the prevalent -sort, wet, and the tenants of the place are living in what the returns -call 'boots, trench, gum, thigh.' Overhead is stretched across the -low roof tarred felt. Above that are rough-hewn logs, then galvanised -iron and stones and earth: not shell-proof, really, but bullet- and -splinter-proof, and for the most part weather-proof--at least as much -so as the average coat sold under that description. - -"The trench outside is very still just now, but inside the dug-out -there is plenty of movement. All round about it, and above and below, -the place is honeycombed by rats--brown rats with whitish bellies, big -as young cats, heavy with good living; blundering, happy-go-lucky, -fearless brutes, who do not bother to hunt the infinitely nimbler mice -who at this moment are delicately investigating the tins of foodstuffs -within a few inches of the head of the O.C. Company. The rats are -variously occupied: as to a couple of them, matrons, in opposite -corners of the roof, very obviously in suckling their young, who -feed with awful zest; as to half a dozen others, in courting, during -which process they keep up a curious kind of crooning, chirruping -song wearisome to human ears; and as to the numerous remainder, in -conducting a cross-country steeplechase of sorts, to and fro and round -and round on the top side of the roofing felt, which their heavy bodies -cause to bulge and sag till one fancies it must give way. - -"There is a rough rickety stool beside the table. On this is -seated the O.C. Company, his arms outspread on the little ledge of -a table, his head on his arms, his face resting on the pages of an -open Army Book 153, in which, half an hour ago, he wrote his morning -situation report, in order that his signallers might inform Battalion -Headquarters, nearly a mile away down the communication trench to the -rear, with sundry details, that there was nothing doing beyond the -normal intermittent strafing of a quiet night. The O.C. Company is -asleep. A mouse is clearing its whiskers of condensed milk within two -inches of his left ear, and the candle is guttering within two inches -of his cap-peak. During the past few days he has had four or five such -sleeps as this, half an hour or so at a time, and no more, for there -has been work toward in the line, involving exposure for men on the -parapet and so forth, of a sort which does not make for restfulness -among O.C. Companies. - -"There comes a quiet sound of footfalls on the greasy duck-boards -outside. Two mice on the table sit bolt upright to listen. The -cross-country meeting overhead is temporarily suspended. The O.C. -Company's oilskin-covered shoulders twitch nervously. The mother rats -continue noisily suckling their young, though one warily pokes its -sharp nose out over the edge of the felt, sniffing, inquiringly. Then -the waterproof sheet is drawn aside, and the O.C. Company sits up with -a jerk. A signaller on whose leather jerkin the raindrops glisten in -the flickering candle-light thrusts head and shoulders into the dug-out. - -"'Message from the Adjutant, sir!' - -"The O.C. reads the two-line message, initials the top copy for return -to the signaller, spikes the carbon copy on a nail overhead, where many -others hang, glances at his wrist-watch, and says wearily: - -"'Well, what are the signallers strafing about, anyhow? It's ten -minutes before time now. Here you are!' - -"He tears two written pages from the Army message book which was his -pillow, signs them, and hands them up to the signaller. - -"'Call the Sergeant-Major on your way back, and tell him I've gone -down to the sap-head. He can bring the wiring party along right away. -It's nearly three o'clock. Send a runner to tell the officer on duty -I'm going out myself with this party. You might just remind the -Sergeant-Major I want two stretcher-bearers at the sap-head. Tell 'em -to keep out of sight till the others are out over the parapet. Right! -Messages will go to Mr. ----, of course, while I'm out.' - -"Brother Boche may remain quiet. Three o'clock is a good quiet time. -And there is no moon. But, Brother Boche being dead quiet just now, may -conceivably have patrols out there in No Man's Land. They may carry -valuable information quickly to his line, and two or three machine-guns -may presently open up on the O.C. Company and his wiring party, who, -again, may be exposed by means of flare lights from the other side. -One hopes not. Meanwhile, after a glance round, the O.C. picks up -his mud-caked leather mitts, settles the revolver pouch on his belt, -blows out the guttering candle, feels his way out past the dripping -waterproof sheet into the black trench, and leaves the dug-out to his -sleeping brother officer (who was on deck from 10 to 1, and will be out -again an hour before dawn) and the rats. - -"Theoretically, this O.C. Company may be himself as much in need of -sleep as anyone in the trench. Actually, however, apart from his needs, -he is personally responsible for whatever may happen in quite a long -stretch of dark, mysterious trench: of trench which in one moment may -be converted by the ingenious Boche into a raging hell of paralysing -gas and smoke, of lurid flame and rending explosion. German officers -seated in artillery dug-outs a mile or so away across the far side -of No Man's Land may bring about that transformation in one moment. -They did it less than a week ago, though, by reason of unceasing -watchfulness on this side, it availed them nothing. They may be just -about to do it now, and, unlike the average of German O.C. Companies, -our officers never ask their men to face any kind of danger which they -themselves do not face with them. And so, for this particular O.C. -Company, the interior of that queer little dug-out (where the men's rum -stands in jars under the lower bunk, and letters from home are scanned, -maps pored over, and reports and returns made out) does not exactly -bring unmixed repose. But the rats love it." - -So there you are! By the judicious picking of Taffy's brains I have -been enabled to present you with a much better picture of a dug-out -than my own unaided pen could give. Reading over, there seems something -melancholy and sombre about it; I don't know why. It's a jolly little -dug-out, and Taffy's a thundering fine officer; nothing in the least -melancholy about him. Then why--? Oh, well, I guess it's his Celtic -blood. Maybe he's got a temperament. I must tell him so. By the way, -that wiring job he mentions came off all right; a nasty exposed place, -but "the Peacemaker" got his party through without a single casualty, -or, as the men always say, "Casu_al_ity." - -Taffy writes a much better letter, doesn't he? than your - - "_Temporary Gentleman_." - - - - -A BOMBING SHOW - - -Very many thanks for the parcel with the horse-hide mitts and the torch -refills, both of which will be greatly appreciated. The mitts are the -best things of the kind I've seen for trench work, and as for electric -torches, I don't know what we should do without them. - -I've come below for a sleep, really. Taffy Morgan was very much off -colour yesterday, and is far from fit to-day. I had to take his duty as -well as my own last night, so came off pretty short in the matter of -rest. But I must stop to tell you about the lark we had last night; the -jolliest thing that's happened since we came in, and no end of a score -for "A" Company. My batman tells me "B" are mad as hatters about it. - -Our signalling officer happened to be along the front yesterday -afternoon with a brand-new telescope that someone had sent the C.O., a -very fine instrument. Signals wasn't interested in our bit of line, as -it happens, but was dead nuts on some new Boche machine-gun emplacement -or other away on "B's" left. When he was coming back through our line -I got him to lend me the new glass while he had some tea and wrote -reports in our dug-out. Perhaps you think there's not much need of a -telescope when the Boche line is less than a couple of hundred yards -away. Well, now you'd hardly believe how difficult it is to make things -out. At this time of the year the whole of this place is full of mist, -for one thing. And then, you see, the ground in front is studded all -over with barbed wire, stakes, long rank grass, things thrown out: here -and there an old log, and, here and there, of course, a dead body. One -has to look along the ground level, since to look from a higher level -would mean exposure, and I can assure you it's surprisingly easy to -miss things. I've wasted a good many rounds myself, firing at old rags -or bits of wood, or an old cape in the grass among the Boche wire, -feeling sure I'd got a sniper. The ground is pretty much torn up, too, -you understand, by shells and stuff, and that makes it more difficult. - -Well, I was looking out from a little sheltered spot alongside the -entrance to what we call Stinking Sap. It has rather a rottener smell -than most trenches, I think. And all of a sudden I twigged something -that waked me right up. It was nothing much: just a shovel sticking up -against a little mound. But it led to other things. A yard away from -where this shovel lay the C.O.'s fine glass enabled me to make out a -gap in the wet, misty grass. You may be sure I stared jolly hard, and -presently the whole thing became clear to me. The Boches had run out -a new sap to fully sixty yards from their fire trench, which at this -particular point is rather far from ours: over 250 yards, I suppose. It -was right opposite our own Stinking Sap, and I suppose the head of it -was not more than 100 yards from the head of Stinking Sap. There was -no Boche working there then; not a sign of any movement. I made sure -of that. Then I got my compass and trench map, and took a very careful -bearing. And then I toddled round to Company Headquarters and got hold -of "the Peacemaker," without letting Signals know anything about it. -If the O.C. liked to let Battalion Headquarters know, that was his -business. - -Of course, "the Peacemaker" was delighted. "It's perfectly clear they -must have cut it last night," he said. "And as sure as God made little -apples, they'll be going on with it to-night. Let's see, the moon rises -about 9.45. Splendid! They'll get to work as soon as it's dark." - -He was awfully decent about it, and agreed to let me go, since I'd had -the luck to spot it. As a matter of fact, he did the more important -spotting himself. He twigged what I'd overlooked: a whacking big -shell-hole, shallow but wide, about fifteen or twenty feet to one side -of their sap-head; an absolutely ideal spot for cover, and no more -than a hundred yards from the head of Stinking Sap. I decided to take -Corporal Slade with me, because he's such a fine bomber, besides being -as cool as a cucumber and an all-round good chap. You remember he was -with me that time in Master Boche's trench. Somehow, the thing got -round before tea-time, and the competition among the men was something -awful. When Slade gave it out that I was taking all the men I wanted -from No. 1 Platoon, there was actually a fight between one of my lot -and a fellow named Ramsay, of No. 3 Platoon; a draper, I'll trouble -you, and a pillar of his chapel at home. Then a deputation of the other -Platoon Sergeants waited on "the Peacemaker," and in the end, to save -bloodshed, I agreed to take Corporal Slade and one man from my own -Platoon, and one man from each of the other three Platoons. To call -for volunteers for work over the parapet with our lot is perfectly -hopeless. You must detail your men, or the whole blessed Company -would swarm out over the sticks every time, especially if there's the -slightest hint of raiding or bombing. - -"The Peacemaker's" idea was that we must reach that shell-hole from the -end of Stinking Sap, if possible, before the Boche started work in his -new sap, because once he started he'd be sure to have a particularly -sharp look-out kept, and might very well have a covering party outside -as well. Before it was dark my fellows were champing their bits in -Stinking Sap, fretting to be off. If one gave the beggars half a chance -they'd be out in the open in broad daylight. But, of course, I kept -'em back. There was no reason why Boche should be in a violent hurry -to start work, and I was most anxious he shouldn't suspect that we -suspected anything. - -As it turned out, we were all lying in that shell-hole close to his -new sap for three-quarters of an hour before a single Boche made a -move. There was a fine rain all the time, and it was pitch dark. -The only thing we didn't like was the fact that all the flares and -parachute lights ever made seemed to be being sent up from the Boche -line, right alongside this new sap. However, we lay perfectly still -and flat, hands covered and faces down, and as long as you do that all -the flares in the world won't give you away much, in ground as full of -oddments and unevenness as that is. - -By and by Slade gave a little tug at my jerkin. I listened hard, and -just made out footsteps, probably in the Boche fire trench itself, near -the entrance to their new sap. Two or three minutes later we began -really to enjoy ourselves. As far as we could make out Fritz hadn't a -notion that we were on to his game. Six or eight of 'em came shuffling -along the sap, carrying picks and shovels, and jabbering and growling -away nineteen to the dozen. We could hear every sound. One fellow, -anyhow, was smoking. We got the whiff of that. We could hear 'em spit, -and, very nearly, we could hear them breathe. I did wish I knew a -little more German than "Donnerwetter" and "Sprechen Sie Deutsch?" - -I could feel the man on my left (the draper from No. 3) quivering like -a coursing greyhound in a leash, and had to whisper to him to wait for -the word. But Corporal Slade on my right might have been on the barrack -square. I saw him use a match to pick his teeth while he listened. -I'd rehearsed my fellows letter perfect in our own trench before we -started, and when the Boches were fairly under way digging, I gave the -signal with my left hand. There was a bomb in my right. Waiting for it -as I was, I could distinctly hear the safety-pins come out of our six -bombs, and could even hear the breathed murmur of the pugnacious draper -at my shoulder: - -"A hundred an' one, a hundred an' two, a hundred an' three!" (He was -timing the fuse of his bomb, exactly as I'd told 'em.) - -And then we tore a big hole in the night. Our six bombs landed, one on -the edge and the other five plumb in the sap-head before us, right in -the middle of the six or eight Boches digging there. Two seconds after -they left our hands they did their job. It was less than two seconds -really. And when the rending row was done we heard only one Boche -moaning, so I knew that at least six or seven were "gone West" for -keeps, and would strafe no more Englishmen. - -Now the idea had been that directly our job was done we should bolt -for the head of Stinking Sap. But, while we'd been lying there, it had -occurred to me that the Boches, knowing all about what distance bombs -could be thrown, and that we must be lying in the open near their -sap-head, ought to be able to sweep that ground with machine-gun fire -before we could get to Stinking Sap, and that, having done that, they -would surely send a whole lot more men down their new sap, to tackle -what was left of us that way. Therefore I'd made each of my fellows -carry four bombs in his pockets: twenty-four among the lot of us. And -we'd only used six. Quite enough, too, for the Boches in that sap. -Therefore, again, we now lay absolutely still, and just as close as -wax, while Fritz rained parachute lights, stars, flares, and every kind -of firework in the sky, and, just as I had fancied, swept his sap-head -with at least a thousand rounds of machine-gun bullets, not one of -which so much as grazed us, where we lay spread-eagled in the mud of -that shell-hole. - -And then--dead silence. - -"Get your bombs ready, lads," I told my fellows. In another few -seconds we heard the Boches streaming along their narrow new sap. -They took it for granted we had cleared back to our line, and they -made no attempt to disguise their coming. In fact, from the rate at -which they rushed along that narrow ditch I could almost swear that -some came without rifles or anything. We waited till the near end of -the sap was full, and then: "A hundred and one," etc. We gave 'em our -second volley, and immediately on top of it our third. It must have -been a regular shambles. Slade and I, by previous arrangement, lobbed -ours over as far as ever we could to the left, landing quite near the -beginning of the sap, and so getting the Boches who were only just -leaving their own fire trench. Then I laid my hand on the draper to -prevent his throwing, and Slade and the other three gave their last -volley, and bolted full pelt for Stinking Sap. - -There was no bucking at all in the part of the sap near us. The Boches -there wouldn't trouble anyone any more, I fancy. But a few seconds -after Slade disappeared, we heard a fresh lot start on their way down -the sap from their fire trench. We gave 'em up to about "A hundred -and three" and a half, and then we let 'em have our last two bombs, -well to the left, and ourselves made tracks like greased lightning -for Stinking Sap. The luck held perfectly, and Slade was hauling the -draper in over the parapet of Stinking Sap before a sound came from the -Boches' machine-guns. And then, by Gad! they opened on us. They holed -my oilskin coat for me, as I slid in after Ramsay, and spoiled it. I've -jotted it down against 'em and in due course they shall pay. But not -one of my crowd got a scratch, and we reckon to have accounted for at -the very least twenty Boches, maybe double that--a most splendid lark. - -What makes "B" Company rather mad is that, strictly speaking, this -new Boche sap is a shade nearer their line than ours. The C.O. came -up to look at it this morning, on the strength of our O.C.'s morning -situation report, and was most awfully nice to me about it. He said we -did well to wait for the Boches' coming down from their line after our -first scoop, and that plans must be made to fit circumstances, and not -held to be ends in themselves, and all that kind of thing--initiative, -you know, and so on--very nice indeed he was. And the best of it is our -artillery has registered on that sap this morning, and this afternoon -is just about going to blow it across the Rhine. So altogether "A" -Company is feeling pretty good, if you please, and has its tail well -up. So has your - - "_Temporary Gentleman_." - - - - -OVER THE PARAPET - - -We are back again in billets, but so close to the line this time that -it's more like being in support trenches. That is to say, one hears -all the firing, and knows just what is happening in the line all the -time. Also, we do carrying fatigues in the trenches at night. Still, -it's billets, and not bad. One can get a bath, and one can sleep dry. -I must tell you about billets sometime. At the moment the letter from -you lying in front of me contains clear orders. I am to tell you what -patrolling is--quite a big order. - -Well, there are many different kinds of patrols, you know, but so far -as we are concerned, here in trenches, they boil down to two sorts: -observation patrols and fighting patrols, such as bombing and raiding -parties. It's all night work, of course, since one cannot do anything -over the parapet by day without getting shot; anything, that is, except -a regular attack preceded by bombardment of the Boche lines. On the -whole, I think it's about the most interesting part of our work, and I -think it's safe to say it's a part in which our fellows can run rings -round the Boches. In masses (well primed with rum; ether and oxygen, -too, they say) the Boche can do great things. He will advance, as it -were blindly, in the face of any kind of fire you like; even the kind -that accounts for sixty or seventy per cent. of him in a hundred yards. -But when he comes to act as an individual, or in little groups, as in -patrolling--well, we don't think much of him. We think our worst is -better than his best in all that sort of work. I'm perfectly certain -that, man for man, the British and French troops are more formidable, -harder to beat, better men all round, than the Boche. - -The first kind of patrol I mentioned--observation--is part and parcel -of our everyday routine in the firing line. This kind goes out every -night, and often several times during the night, from every Company. -Its main objective is observation: to get any information it can about -the doings of the Hun, and to guard our line against surprise moves of -any sort. But, though that's its main object, it does not go unarmed, -of course, and, naturally, will not refuse a scrap if the chance -comes. But it differs from a bombing or raiding patrol in that it does -not go out for the purpose of fighting, and as a rule is not strong, -numerically; usually not more than about half a dozen in the party. -In some Companies observation patrols are often sent out under a good -N.C.O. and no officer. We make a point of sending an officer always; -not that we can't trust our N.C.O.'s; they're all right; but we talked -it over, and decided we would rather one of us always went. As I said, -it's interesting work, and work with possibilities of distinction in -it, and we're all pretty keen on it. Every Company in the Battalion is. -(Boche patrols, one gathers, hardly ever include an officer.) - -With us, it is decided during the afternoon just what we are going -to do that night in the patrol line, and the officer whose turn it is -chooses his own men and N.C.O.'s. And within limits, you know, "the -Peacemaker" lets us work out our own plans pretty much as we like, -providing there's no special thing he wants done. It often happens, you -see, that during daylight the sentries or the officer on duty have been -able to make out with glasses some signs of work being done at night by -the Boche, in his front line, or in a sap or a communication trench. -Then that night it will be the job of the patrols to investigate that -part of the opposite line very carefully. Perhaps half a dozen Boches -will be found working somewhere where our patrol can wipe 'em out by -lobbing a few bombs among 'em. That's a bit of real jam for the patrol. -Or, again, they may observe something quite big: fifty to a hundred -Boches carrying material and building an emplacement, or something of -that kind. Then it will be worth while to get back quickly, having got -an exact bearing on the spot, and warn the O.C. Company. He may choose -to turn a couple of machine-guns loose suddenly on that spot, or he may -find it better to telephone to Battalion Headquarters and let them know -about it, so that, if they like, they can get our "heavies" turned on, -and liven the Boche job up with a good shower of H.E., to smash the -work, after a few rounds of shrap. to lay out the workers. - -Then, again, if you all keep your eyes jolly well skinned, there's a -sporting chance of getting another kind of luck. You may spot a Boche -patrol while you're crawling about in No Man's Land. "B" Company had -the luck to do that three nights ago, and our fellows are so envious -now they all want to be patrolling at once; it's as much as one can -do to keep them in the trench. They're simply aching to catch a Boche -patrol out, and put the wind up "B." You see "B" lost two out of a -Boche patrol of six; killing three and taking one prisoner. "A" can't -say anything about it, of course, because we've not had the luck yet to -see a Boche patrol. But God help its members when we do, for I assure -you our fellows would rather die half a dozen times over than fail to -wipe "B's" eye. It's the way they happen to be built. They don't wish -the Boche any particular harm, but if they can get within sight of a -Boche patrol, that patrol has just got to be scuppered without any -possible chance of a couple getting clear. The performance of "B" has -just got to be beaten, and soon. - -Honestly, it isn't easy to hold these chaps back. The observation -patrol I was out with the night before we came out of the trenches -really needed holding. There were no Boche patrols for them to scupper, -and just to humour the beggars I kept 'em out nearly an hour longer -than I had any right to; and then, if you'll believe me, they were so -disappointed at having to head back with nothing in the bag, so to say, -that the Corporal was deputed to beg my permission for a little raid on -the Huns' front trench. And there were just five of us, all told; our -only weapons knobkerries and two bombs each, and my revolver and dagger. - -By the way, the survivor of the Hun patrol that "B" rounded up was -not the first prisoner taken by the Battalion. No; we had that honour -nearly a week ago. A queer episode that, on our second night in. There -was a bit of line on our extreme right which was neither for use nor -ornament; a horrible place. It had been all blown in by trench mortars -and oil-cans, and hardly had a strand of unbroken wire in front of it. -(You may be sure it's in different shape now. We worked at it for two -nights in succession, and made a good job of it.) Well, it was so bad -for fifty yards or so that sentries could not occupy it properly; no -fire-step left, and no cover worth speaking of. Taffy Morgan was nosing -about in front of this bit just after dark, out beyond where the wire -had been, marking places for new entanglements, when he spotted a big -Boche patrol making slowly up that way from their front. They were -fifteen or twenty strong. - -Taffy lay very low, and crawled back into our line without being -seen. Then he raced down the trench for his pet machine-gun--a Lewis, -you know--and got it along there with a Corporal and a couple of -machine-gunners in rather less than no time. By then the messenger -he had sent off had got back with "the Peacemaker" and myself and -the Sergeant-Major. We all kept as quiet as mice till we were able -to make out the movement of the Boche patrol. We let them get fairly -close--thirty or forty yards--and then let blaze at 'em, firing just as -low as we could. - -I suppose we gave 'em about four hundred rounds. We heard a bit of -moaning after "the Peacemaker" gave the word to cease fire, and then, -to our amazement, a Hun talking, apparently to another Boche, telling -him to come on, and calling him some kind of a bad hat. I tell you, it -was queer to listen to. The Boche who was doing the talking appeared -to have worked a good bit down to the left of the bunch we had fired -at, and had evidently got into our wire. We could hear him floundering -among the tin cans. - -"Don't fire," said "the Peacemaker." "We'll maybe get this chap -alive." And, sure enough, the Boche began singing out to us now, asking -first of all whether we were Prussian, and then trying a few phrases in -French, including a continuously repeated: "Je suis fatigué!" - -Most extraordinary it was. "The Peacemaker" couldn't tell him we were -Prussian, but he kept inviting the fellow to come in, and telling him -we wouldn't hurt him. Finally I took a man out and lugged the chap in -out of the wire myself. We got tired of his floundering, and I guess he -must have been tired of it too, for he was pretty badly cut by it. He -had no rifle; nothing but a dagger; and the moment I got him into our -trench he began catting all over the place; most deadly sick he was. - -We led him off down the trench to the S.M.'s dug-out and gave him a -drink of tea, and washed the wire cuts on his face and hands. He was a -poor starveling-looking kind of a chap; a bank clerk from Heidelberg, -as it turned out afterwards, and a Corporal. He told us he'd had -nothing but rum, but we thought him under the influence of some drug; -some more potent form of Dutch courage, such as the Huns use before -leaving their trenches. Our M.O. told us afterwards he was very -poorly nourished. We blindfolded him and took him down to Battalion -Headquarters, and from there he would be sent on to the Brigade. We -never knew if they got any useful information out of him; but he was -the Battalion's first prisoner. The other Boches we got in that night -were dead. That burst of M.G. fire had laid them out pretty thoroughly, -nine of 'em; and a small patrol we kept out there wounded three or four -more who came much later--I suppose to look for their own wounded. - -There's a creepy kind of excitement about patrol work which makes it -fascinating. If there's any light at all, you never know who's drawing -a bead on you. If there's no light, you never know what you're going to -bump into at the next step. It's very largely hands-and-knees' work, -and our chaps just revel in it. My first, as you know, landed me in the -Boche trenches; and that's by no means a very uncommon thing either, -though it ought never to happen if you have a good luminous-faced -compass and the sense to refer to it often enough. My second patrol was -a bit more successful. I'll tell you about that next time. Meanwhile, -I hope what I've said will make you fancy you know roughly what patrol -work is, though, to be sure, I feel I haven't given you the real thing -the way Taffy could if he set out to write about it. He could write it -almost better perhaps than he could do it. He's a wee bit too jerky and -impulsive, too much strung up rather, for patrol work. My thick-headed -sort of plodding is all right on patrol; suits the men first-rate. I -suppose it kind of checks the excitement and keeps it within bounds. -But you mark my words, our fellows will get a Boche patrol before long, -and when they do I'll wager they won't lose any of 'em. - -We're going to play a team of "B" Company at football to-morrow -afternoon, if the Boche doesn't happen to be running an artillery -strafe. We play alongside the cemetery, and for some unknown reason the -Boche gunners seem to be everlastingly ranging on it, as though they -wanted to keep our dead from resting. We're all as fit and jolly as can -be, especially your - - "_Temporary Gentleman_." - - - - -THE NIGHT PATROL - - -Here in billets the amount of letter-writing the men do is something -appalling--for the officers who have to censor their letters. As you -know, our training in England included some time in four different -parts of the country, and our fellows have sweethearts in each place. -And they seem to get parcels from most of 'em, too. Then there are the -home letters. They all describe their writers as being "in the pink," -and getting on "champion," as, I believe, I told you before. - -My billet--or, rather, our billet, for all "A" Company officers -are under the one roof here--is in the church house, and there's a -candlestick three feet high in the bedroom I share with Taffy. There's -no glass in the windows, and the roof at one end has had a shell -through it, and so the room gets a bit swampy. Otherwise, the place -is all right. Our own batteries near by shake it up at times, and -the shell-holes, in the road outside show it's had some very narrow -squeaks; but neither it nor the church has suffered very much, though -they stand well up on a hill, less than half a mile from our support -line of trenches, which the Battalion billeted here mans in event of -alarm--gas attack, you know, or anything of that sort. So while we're -here we sleep fully equipped at night. But in our next week out, at the -village farther back, we are more luxurious, and undress of a night. - -But I promised to tell you about that second patrol of mine. We were -greatly interested in some kind of an erection we could see just behind -the Boche front line on our left. All we could see was sand-bags; -but, somehow, it looked too big and massive for a mere machine-gun -emplacement, and we were all most anxious to find out what it could be. -So "the Peacemaker" agreed that I should take a patrol that night and -try to investigate. This was the first patrol we sent out as a Company -in the line on our own. My first was when we were in with another -Company for instruction, you know, and they apparently had not noticed -this sand-bag structure. At all events, they made no report to "the -Peacemaker" about it when we took over. - -The moon was not due to rise till about eleven that night, so I -decided to go out at nine. The Company Sergeant-Major asked if he -could come, so I arranged to take him and one Platoon scout from each -Platoon. They had none of them been out as yet, and we wanted them to -have practice. Getting out into No Man's Land marks a distinct epoch -in a man's training for trench warfare, you know. If it happens that -he has some considerable time in trenches without ever going over the -parapet, he's apt to be jumpy when he does get out. I fancy that must -be one reason why the Boches make such a poor show in the matter of -individual effort of an aggressive sort. They're so trench-bound that -their men seem no use out of trenches, except in massed formation. - -Don't make any mistake about it; there's some excuse for a man -being jumpy over the parapet when he's never had a chance of getting -accustomed to it. That's why I think our O.C. is very wise in the way -he tries to give all the men a turn at work over the parapet, wiring, -patrolling, improving saps, and what not: because it's a pretty eerie -business until you get used to it. Behind our line you have graves -and crosses, and comparatively friendly things of all kinds--rubbish, -you know, and oddments discarded by fellow humans no longer ago -than a matter of hours. But out in No Man's Land, of course, the -dominant factor is the swift, death-dealing bullet, and the endless -mass of barbed-wire entanglements which divides Boches from Britons -and Frenchmen for so many hundreds of miles. There are plenty of -dead things out there, but, barring the rats, when you get any other -movement in No Man's Land you may reckon it's enemy movement: creeping -men with bombs and daggers, who may have been stalking you or may not -have seen you. But it wouldn't do to reckon much on anyone's not having -seen you, because if there's one place in the world in which every -man's ears and eyes are apt to be jolly well open it's out there in the -slimy darkness of No Man's Land. - -You may very well chance to stick your hand in the upturned face of -a far-gone corpse, as I did my first time out; but if you do so you -mustn't shiver--far less grunt--because shivering may make your oilskin -coat or something else rustle, and draw fire on you and your party. -So a man needs to have his wits about him when he's over the parapet, -and the cooler he keeps and the more deliberate are his movements the -better for all concerned. One needn't loaf, but, on the other hand, -it's rather fatal to hurry, and quite fatal to flurry, especially -when you're crawling among wire with loose strands of it and "giant -gooseberries" of the prickly stuff lying round in all directions on the -ground to catch your hands and knees and hold you up. If you lose your -head or do anything to attract attention, your number's pretty well up. -But, on the other hand, if you keep perfectly cool and steady, making -no sound whatever happens, and lying perfectly flat and still while -Boche flares are up or their machine-guns are trying to locate you, -it's surprising how very difficult it is for the Hun to get you, and -what an excellent chance you have of returning to your own line with a -whole skin. - -I had an exact compass bearing on the spot we wanted to investigate, -taken from the sap on our left from which we were starting. "The -Peacemaker" ran his own hands over the men of the party before we -climbed out, to make sure everyone had remembered to leave all papers -and things of that sort behind. (One goes pretty well stripped for -these jobs, to avoid anything useful falling perchance into Boche -hands.) We each carried a couple of bombs, the men had knobkerries, and -I had revolver and dagger, to be on the safe side. But we were out for -information, not scrapping. - -It was beautifully dark, and, starting from a sap-head, clear of our -own wire, we crossed the open very quickly, hardly so much as stooping, -till we were close to the Boche wire, when a burst of machine-gun fire -from them sent us to ground. The Companies on each flank in our line -had been warned we were out. This is always done to prevent our own men -firing at us. Such little fire as was coming from our line was high, -and destined for the Boche support lines and communications; nothing to -hurt us. - -Now, when we began crawling through the Boche wire I made the sort -of mistake one does make until experience teaches. I occupied myself -far too much with what was under my nose, and too little with what lay -ahead--and too little with my compass. To be sure, there's a good deal -in the Boche wire which rather forces itself upon the attention of a -man creeping through it on hands and knees. The gooseberries and loose -strands are the devil. Still, it is essential to keep an eye on the -compass, and to look ahead, as well as on the ground under one's nose, -lest you over-shoot your mark or drop off diagonally to one side or the -other of it. I know a good deal better now. But one has no business to -make even one mistake, if one's a "Temporary Officer and Gentleman," -because one's men have been taught to follow and trust one absolutely, -and it's hardly ever only one's own safety that's at stake. - -Suddenly I ran my face against the side of a "giant gooseberry" with -peculiarly virulent prongs, and in that moment a bullet whizzed low -over my head, and--here's the point--the bolt of the rifle from which -that bullet came was pulled back and jammed home for the next shot--as -it seemed right in my ear. We all lay perfectly flat and still. I could -feel the Sergeant-Major's elbow just touching my left hip. Very slowly -and quietly I raised my head enough to look round the side of that -"giant gooseberry," and instinct made me look over my right shoulder. - -We were less than ten paces from the Boche parapet. The great, jagged -black parados, like a mountain range on a theatre drop scene, hung -right over my shoulder against a sky which seemed now to have a most -deadly amount of light in it. I was lying almost in a line with it, -instead of at right angles to it. Just then, the sentry who had fired -gave a little cough to clear his throat. It seemed he was actually with -us. Then he fired again. I wondered if he had a bead on the back of my -head. He was not directly opposite us, but a dozen paces or so along -the line. - -Now, by the queer twisty feeling that went down my spine when my eyes -first lighted on that grim black line of parados just over my shoulder, -I guessed how my men might be feeling. "Little blame to them if they -show some panic," thinks I. I turned my face left, so as to look down -at the Sergeant-Major's over my left shoulder. He'd seen that towering -parados against the sky, and heard that sentry's cough and the jamming -home of his rifle bolt. By twisting my head I brought my face close to -the S.M.'s, and could see that he fancied himself looking right into -his own end. I had to think quick. I know that man's mind like the palm -of my hand, and I now know his splendid type: the English ex-N.C.O. of -Marines, with later service in the Metropolitan Police--a magnificent -blend. I also know the wonderful strength of his influence over the -men, to whom he is experienced military professionalism, expertness -incarnate. At present he felt we had come upon disaster. - -"My Gawd, sir!" he breathed at me. "Why, we're on top of 'em!" - -That was where I thought quick, and did a broad grin as I whispered to -him: "Pretty good for a start--a damn fine place, Sergeant-Major. But -we'll manage to get a bit nearer before we leave 'em, won't we?" - -It worked like a charm, and I thanked God for the fine type he -represents. It was as though his mind was all lighted up, and I -could see the thoughts at work in it. "Oh, come! so it's all right, -after all. My officer's quite pleased. He knew all about it and it's -just what he wanted; so that's all right." These were the thoughts. -And from that moment the S.M. began to regard the whole thing as a -rather creditable lark, though the pit of his stomach had felt queer, -as well it might, for a moment. And the wonderful thing was--there -must be something in telepathy, you know--that this change seemed to -communicate itself almost instantly to the men--bless their simple -souls!--crouched round about behind. I'd no time to think of the -grimness of it, after that. A kind of heat seemed to spread all over me -from inside, and I had been cold. I think a mother must feel like that -when danger threatens her kiddies. The thought in my mind was: "I've -brought these fellows here in carelessness. I'll get 'em back with -whole skins or I'll die at it." - -I never had any Hymn of Hate feeling in my life, but I think I'd have -torn half a dozen Boches in pieces with my hands before I'd have let -'em get at any of those chaps of mine that night. - -Now I was free; I knew the men were all right. I whispered to the S.M., -and very slowly and silently we began to back away from that grim -parados. The sentry must have been half asleep, I fancy. My compass -showed me we must be forty or fifty yards left of the point in the -Boche line we wanted; so as soon as we were far enough back we worked -slowly up right, and then a bit in again. And then we found all we'd -hoped for. It was a regular redoubt the Boche was building, and he had -nearly a hundred men at work, including the long string we saw carrying -planks and posts. Some were just sitting round smoking. We could hear -every word spoken, almost every breath. And we could see there were -sixty or seventy men immediately round the redoubt. - -That was good enough for me. All I wanted now was to get my men back -safely. I knew "the Peacemaker" had two machine-guns trained precisely -on the redoubt. All I wanted was to make sure their fire was all a -shade to the left, and every bullet would tell. We should be firing -fairly into the brown of 'em; because the little cross communication -trench which we had watched them working in was no more than -waist-deep; just a short-cut for convenience in night work only. We had -'em absolutely cold. The S.M. told me the men wanted to bomb 'em from -where we were. But that was not my game at all. - -With the compass bearing I had, getting back was simple. I saw the -last man into our sap, and found the O.C. waiting there for me. -I'd no sooner given him my news than he was at the guns. We had -twenty or thirty rifles levelled on the same mark, too, and, at "the -Peacemaker's" signal, they all spoke at once. Gad! it was fine to see -the fire spouting from the M.G.'s mouth, and to know how its thunder -must be telling. - -Four belts we gave 'em altogether, and then whipped the guns down into -cover, just as the Boche machine-guns began to answer from all along -their line. It was a "great do," as the S.M. said. The men were wildly -delighted. They had seen the target; lain and watched it, under orders -not to make a sound. And now the pressure was off. Listening now, the -Boche guns having ceased fire, our sentries could plainly hear groaning -and moaning opposite, and see the lights reflected on the Boche parados -moving to and fro as their stretcher-bearers went about their work. A -"great do," indeed. And so says your - - "_Temporary Gentleman_." - - - - -IN BILLETS - - -You have asked me once or twice about billets, and I ought to have told -you more about them before; only there seems such a lot to pick and -choose from that when I do sit down to write I seldom get on to the -particular story I mean to tell. - -And that reminds me, I didn't tell you of the odd thing that happened -the night we came out into billets this time. The Boche had finished -his customary evening Hymn of Hate, or we thought he had, and while the -men were filing into their different billets the C.S.M. proceeded to -post our Company guard outside Company Headquarters. He had just given -the sentry his instructions and turned away, when Boche broke out in a -fresh place--their battery commander's evening sauerkraut had disagreed -with him, or something--and half a dozen shells came whistling over the -village in quick succession. One landed in the roadway, a yard and a -half in front of the newly-posted sentry. Had it been a sound shell, it -would have "sent him West"; but it proved a dud, and merely dug itself -a neat hole in the macadam and lay there like a little man, having -first sent a spray of mud and a few bits of flint spurting over our -sentry and rattling against his box. - -Now that sentry happened to be our friend Tommy Dodd; and Tommy was -about tired out. He'd been on a wiring party over the parapet three -parts of the night, taken his turn of sentry-go in the other part; and -all day long had been digging and mud-scooping, like the little hero he -is, to finish repairing an impassable bit of trench that master Boche -had blown in the evening before, to make it safe before we handed over -to the Company relieving. He was literally caked in clay from head to -foot; eyebrows, moustache, and all; he hadn't a dry stitch on him, and, -of course, had not had his supper. It was an oversight that he should -have been detailed for first sentry-go on our arrival in billets. I had -noticed him marching up from the trenches; he could hardly drag one -foot after another. What do you think the shell landing at his feet and -showering mud on him extorted from weary Tommy Dodd? I was standing -alongside at the time. - -"'Ere, not so much of it, Mister Boche! You take it from me an' be a -bit more careful like. Silly blighter! Wotjer playin' at? Didn't yer -know I was on sentry? Chuckin' yer silly shells about like that! If yer -ain't more careful you'll be dirty'n me nice clean uniform nex', an' -gettin' me paraded over for bein' dirty on sentry-go!" - -It's a pretty good spirit, isn't it? And I can assure you it runs right -through; warranted fast colour; and as for standing the wash--well, -Tommy Dodd had been up to his middle in muddy water most of the day. -The Kaiser may have a pretty big military organisation, but, believe -me, Germany and Austria together don't contain anything strong enough -to dull, let alone break the spirit of the men of the New Army. The -Army's new enough; but the tradition and the spirit are from the same -old bin. It isn't altered; and there's nothing better; not anywhere in -the world. - -And I'm supposed to be telling you about billets! - -Well, I told you before, how we took over from another Company; and -the same holds good of how the other Company takes over from us in -the trenches; and when it's over our fellows file out down the long -communication trench, by platoons, with a goodish interval between -men, so as to minimise the effect of chance bullets and shells; every -man carrying all his own mud-caked goods and chattels, and all in good -spirits at the prospects of a little change. Nothing Tommy welcomes so -much as change--unless it's the chance of a scrap. - -We cannot very well form up and march properly directly we get out of -trenches at Ambulance Corner, because Fritz is so fond of directing his -field-gun practice there; so we rather straggle over the next quarter -of a mile, by platoons, till we come to the little river. It's a jolly -little stream, with a regular mill-race of a current, and a nice -clear shallow reach close to the bridge, with clean grass alongside. -We wade right in and wash boots. Everyone is wearing "boots, trench, -gum, thigh," so he just steps into the river and washes the mud off. -Then he gets back to the bank, and off with the gum-boots and on with -the ordinary marching boots, which have been carried slung round the -neck by their laces. The trench boots, clean and shiny now, are handed -into store at Brigade Headquarters, ready for our next turn in, for -anyone else who wants 'em. In store, they are hung up to dry, you -know, for, though no wet from outside will ever leak into these boots -(unless they're cut), yet, being water-and air-tight, they get pretty -wet inside after a week's turn in trenches, from condensation and the -moisture of one's own limbs which has no chance of evaporation. It's -the same with the much-vaunted trench-coats, of course; a few hours' -wear makes 'em pretty damp inside. - -After handing in the boots, we form up properly for marching into the -village. Our Company Quartermaster-Sergeant, with a N.C.O. from each -platoon, has been ahead a few hours before us, to take over billets -from the Q.M.S. of the Company that relieved us; and so each platoon -has a guide to meet it, just as in taking over a line of trenches. -Either in or close to every billet, there are cellars marked up outside -for so many men. These are our bolt-holes, to which every man is -instructed to run and take shelter the instant a bombardment begins. -"Abri 50 hommes"; or "Cellar for 30 men"; these are the legends you see -daubed outside the cellars. And chalked on the gates of the house-yards -throughout the village you will see such lines as "30 Men, 'A' Coy."; -or "2 Off.'s, 30 Men, 'B' Coy."; and, perhaps, the initials of the -regiment. - -But when I mention billets you mustn't think of the style in which you -billeted those four recruits last spring, you know. By Jove, no! It is -laid down that billets in France mean the provision of shelter from the -elements. Sometimes it's complete shelter, and sometimes it isn't; but -it's always the best the folk can give. In this village, for instance, -there are hardly any inhabitants left. Ninety per cent. of the houses -are empty, and a good many have been pretty badly knocked about by -shells. I have often laughed in remembering your careful anxiety about -providing ash-trays and comfortable chairs for your recruits last year; -and the trouble you took about cocoa last thing at night, and having -the evening meal really hot, even though the times of arrival with your -lodgers might be a bit irregular. It's not _quite_ like that behind the -firing line, you know. - -In some places the men's billets are all barns, granaries, sheds and -stables, cow-houses, and the like. Here, they are nearly all rooms in -empty houses. As for their condition, that, like our cocoa of a night, -and cooking generally, is our own affair. In our Division, discipline -is very strict about billets. They are carefully inspected once or -twice during each turnout by the Commanding Officer, and every day -by the O.C. Company and the Platoon Commanders. We have no brooms, -brushes, or dusters, except what we can make. But the billets have to -be very carefully cleaned out twice a day, and there must be no dirt -or crumbs or dust about when they are inspected. Even the mire of the -yards outside has to be scraped and cleared away, and kept clear; and -any kind of destruction, like breaking down doors or anything of that -sort, is a serious crime, to be dealt with very severely. The men -thoroughly understand all this now, and the reason of it; and they are -awfully good. They leave every place cleaner and better than they found -it. - -In the same way it has been strictly laid down that in their attitude -towards the inhabitants the men must be scrupulous. And, by Jove, they -are! Wherever our troops are you will find men in khaki helping the -women with their washing, drawing water, feeding stock, bringing in -cows, getting in wood, and all such matters; and if our fellows haven't -much French, I can assure you they are chattering in some sort of a -language most of the time. And if all this is incomprehensible to the -good Frenchwomen, how is it that the latter respond with so lively a -chatter, and why are they always smiling and laughing the while--even -when one sees that in their eyes which tells more plainly than the -mourning they wear of sacrifices they have made in the service of -France? Come to think of it, do you know, that sums up the attitude of -all the French women I have met, and of the old men of France, too; -and it's an attitude which compels respect, while it elicits sympathy. -They smile with their lips, and in the brave hearts of them they smile, -too; even though they cannot altogether hide either the wearing anxiety -of waiting, or, where bereavement has come, the grief of mourning for -brave men lost, which shows in their eyes. - -In the first convenient archway handy to our billets you will find the -Company's field cooker. You have seen them trailing across the Plain -down Salisbury way on field days--the same old cookers. The rations -come there each day, from the Battalion Q.M. store, three miles away; -and there the men draw them in their cooked form at meal-times. In -every village there is a canteen where men buy stuff like chocolate, -condensed milk, tinned café-au-lait, biscuits, cake, and so forth. - -In the day-time, when there are no carrying fatigues, we have frequent -inspections, and once the first day out of trenches is past, every -man's equipment has to be just so, and himself clean-shaven and smart. -We have a bath-house down near the river, where everyone soaks in huge -tubs of hot water; and in the yard of every billet you will find socks, -shirts, and the like hanging out to dry after washing. By 8.30 at night -all men not engaged in carrying fatigues have turned in. During the -week out of trenches we get all the sleep we can. There are football -matches most afternoons, and sing-songs in the early evenings. And all -and every one of these things are subject to one other thing--strafe; -which, according to its nature, may send us to our cellars, or to the -manning of support trenches and bridge-head defences. - -With regard to the officers, our batmen cook our grub, moderately well -or atrociously badly, according to their capacity. But, gradually, they -are all acquiring the soldierly faculty of knocking together a decent -meal out of any rough elements of food there may be available. More -often than not we do quite well. Our days are pretty much filled up in -looking after the men, and in the evenings, after supper, we have their -letters to censor, our own to write, if we are energetic enough, and a -yarn and a smoke round whatever fire there may be before turning in; -after which the Boche artillery is powerless to keep us awake. At this -present moment I doubt whether there's another soul in "A" Company, -besides myself, who's awake, except the sentry outside headquarters. -And I shall be asleep in about as long as it takes me to sign myself -your - - "_Temporary Gentleman_." - - - - -BOMBARDMENT - - -The day before we came back into trenches I meant to have written you, -but the chance didn't arise. Now we have been in just twenty-four -hours, and though the time has gone like lightning, because one has -been on the jump all the while, yet, looking back, it seems ever so -long since we were in billets. A good deal has happened. - -For the first time since we've been out here we took over in broad -daylight yesterday afternoon, and I've never known Fritz so quiet as he -was. Not only were there no shells, but very few bullets were flying -while we were taking over, and the ----s were clearing out for their -week in billets. We had everything in apple-pie order and the night's -duties mapped out, stores checked, and ammunition dished out--the extra -night supply I mean--before tea, and were just thinking how remarkably -well-behaved the Boche was and what a great improvement it was to take -over by daylight. And then the band played! - -I had been counting the supply of bombs in the Company grenade store, -and was in the act of setting my watch by Taffy's, standing there in -the trench at a quarter to five, when, with a roar, shells landed in -six different parts of our line; not in the trench, you know, but -somewhere mighty close handy. Of course, you might say there was -nothing very startling about half a dozen shells landing near us, -especially as nobody was hit. And that's true. But there was something -queer about it, all the same. We both felt it. Taffy looked at me, and -I looked at him, and "Oho!" said Taffy. And I entirely agreed. - -Perhaps it was partly the unusual quietness that had come before. -Anyhow, we both started at the double for Company Headquarters, and I -know we both had the same idea--to see whether "the Peacemaker" wanted -the word passed for everyone to take cover in such artillery shelters -as we have now in this sector; and, mind you, they're miles better than -they were when we first took over. - -But, bless your heart! we needn't have bothered getting word about -it from the O.C. Before we got near the Company dug-out the men were -seeing to that for themselves, as they have been taught to do, and -the trenches were empty except, of course, for the sentries and their -reliefs, who, with the observation officer, would remain at their posts -even if the bottom fell out of the world. - -Such a raging frenzy of fire as there was when we met "the Peacemaker," -outside the signallers' cabin, you never could imagine in your life, -not if I wrote about it all night. One knows now that, on the average, -there were not more than ninety projectiles per minute coming over us. -But at the time, I assure you, it seemed there must be about ten a -second, and that shells must be literally jostling each other in the -air. Apart from anything else, the air was full of falling earth, wood, -and barbed wire. It was clear they had begun by ranging on our parapet -and entanglements. The oddest things were falling apparently from the -sky--bits of trench boots, bully beef tins, shovel handles, stakes six -feet long, lengths of wire, crumpled sheets of iron, and all kinds of -stuff. - -I yelled to the O.C. that I would take observation duty, and Taffy -wanted to take it with me. But "the Peacemaker" very properly insisted -on his going to ground. We had to shout right in each other's ears. -The O.C. told me our telephone wires were cut to ribbons already. "But -Headquarters will know as much about this as we could tell 'em by now," -he yelled. But he had sent off a chit by runner, just to let the C.O. -know that our fellows had all taken cover, and that the heavy stuff -seemed to be mostly landing on our front and the communication trenches -immediately in rear. The O.C. made a cup of his hands and shouted in my -ear as we crouched in the bottom of the trench: - -"What you've got to do is to watch for the lifting of the curtain to -our rear. Must have every man on the fire-step then. They must surely -mean to come across after this." - -"I hope so. 'A' Company 'll eat 'em if they do." - -"That's if we can keep cover now without too many casualties. Keep as -good a look-out as you can. You'll find me here, by the signallers." - -So I left him, and made my way along to a little observing shelter -we had made near the centre of our bit of firing line. But, when I -got there, I found that shelter was just a heap of yeasty mud and -rubbish. Fritz was pounding that bit out of all recognition. By this -time, you know, one could hardly see six paces ahead anywhere. The -smoke hung low, so that every shell in bursting made long sheets of -red flame along the smoke. And just then I got my first whiff of gas -in the smoke: not a gas cloud, you know, but the burst of gas shells: -lachrymatory shells some of 'em were. So I went hurrying along the line -then, ordering all gas helmets on. I found most of the men had seen to -this without being told. - -By the way, I ought to say that, so far as I can tell, bombardment -doesn't affect one's mind much. You don't feel the slightest bit -afraid. Only a lot more alert than usual, and rather keyed up, as you -might be if you were listening to a fine orchestra playing something -very stirring. It's rather a pleasant feeling, like the exhilaration -you get from drinking champagne, or hearing a great speech on some big -occasion when there are thousands of people listening and all pretty -well worked up. As I scrambled along the fire trench I laughed once, -because I found I was talking away nineteen to the dozen. I listened, -as though it were to someone else, and I heard myself saying: - -"Let her rip! Let her rip, you blighters! You can't smash us, you -sauer-krauters. You're only wasting the ammunition you'll be praying -for presently. Wait till our heavies get to work on you, you beauties. -You'll wish you hadn't spoken. Let her rip! Another dud! That was a -rotten one. Why, you haven't got the range right even now, you rotters!" - -Wasn't it queer, jawing away like that, while they were hammering the -stuffing out of our line? By the way, though I couldn't tell it then, -our artillery was blazing away at them all the time. The fire was -so tremendous that we positively had no idea our guns were in it at -all. But, as a matter of fact, they were lambasting Old Harry out of -the Boche support lines and communications, and the countless shells -roaring over our heads were, half of them, our own. - -It seemed pretty clear to me that this bombardment was on a very -narrow front, much less than our Company front even. It didn't seem -to be much more than a platoon front. So I hurried along to the -signals and let the O.C. know this. As I had expected, he told me -to concentrate all the men, except sentries, on the flanks of the -bombardment sector, all with smoke helmets on, rifles fully charged, -bayonets fixed, and everything ready for instant action. He had already -got our Lewis guns ready in the trench on both flanks. As a fact, "the -Peacemaker" was doing as much observing as I was, and I made bold to -tell him I thought it wasn't the thing for him to expose himself as -much as he did. - -"That's all right, old man," he shouted. "I'm looking out. I'll be -careful, and you do the same. Here, stick your pipe in your mouth! It -helps with the men." - -I'd had to tell him that in the centre and on the extreme left we had -had a few casualties. The stretcher-bearers were doing their best for -them. - -Not many minutes afterwards the curtain of fire appeared to be shifting -back. The row was just as great, or greater. The smoke was just as -dense, and there was a deal more gas in it. But it seemed to me there -were very few shells actually landing along our front, and I could see -the flashes of them bursting continuously a little in our rear. - -As I got to the left flank of the bombarded sector I found Taffy -directing the fire of a machine-gun diagonally across the front. The -men were all out there, and you could see them itching for the word to -get over the parapet. Their faces were quite changed. Upon my word, I'd -hardly have known some of 'em. They had the killing look, and nearly -every man was fiddling with his bayonet, making sure he had the good -steel ready for Fritz. Seeing they were all serene, I made my way along -to the other flank. I hardly thought about it, but just went, and that -shows there's something shapes our ends, doesn't it? I should have been -pretty sick afterwards if I hadn't made that way when I did. - -The first thing I saw on that flank was a couple of men lifting poor -R----'s body from the bottom of the trench. The Infant had been killed -instantaneously. His head was absolutely smashed. He had been the most -popular officer in our mess since we came out. - -There was no time to think, but the sight of the Infant, lying there -dead, sent a kind of sudden heat through me from inside; as I felt it -on patrol that night. I hurried on, with Corporal Slade close on my -heels. The gassy smoke was very dense. Round the next traverse was the -little bay from which the other machine-gun had been firing. It wasn't -firing now. Two men were lying dead close beside it, and another badly -wounded; and half across the parapet was Sergeant T----, who'd been in -charge of the gun, being hauled out by his arms by two Boches, while -two other Boches stood by, one holding his rifle with bayonet fixed, -in the thrust position, as if inclined to run T---- through. The other -Boches were shouting something in German. They wanted to make T---- -prisoner. There was blood on one side of his neck. The insolence of the -thing made me quite mad for the minute, and I screamed at those Boches -like a maniac. - -It seems rum, but they turned and bolted into the smoke; I after them -as hard as I could pelt. I shot one in the back with my revolver. He -fell and, as I came up with him, I snatched his rifle from the ground -beside him. I was like a lunatic. Then, just as suddenly, I came to my -senses. The other Boches were out of sight in the smoke. I jumped back -into the trench and put Corporal Slade on to the machine-gun, telling -him to keep traversing that front. I ran farther down the trench to -discover what had happened. The fire trench dipped there into a wooded -hollow. The pounding of it had levelled the whole place till you could -hardly make out the trench line. - -Here I found the bulk of my own platoon furiously scrapping with -thirty or forty Boches over the parapet. It was splendid. I can't -describe the feeling, as one rushed into it. But it was absolutely -glorious. And it gave me my first taste of bayonet work in -earnest--with a Boche bayonet in my hand, mark you. Made me quite glad -of the bayonet practice we had at home with Sergeant W----, after he'd -had the course at Aldershot. No. 1 Platoon had never let the beggars -get as far as our trench, but met 'em outside. To give them their due, -those Boches didn't try any of their "Kamerade" business. They did -fight--until they saw half their number stuck and down; and then they -turned and bolted for it into the dense smoke over No Man's Land. - -They were most of 'em bayoneted in the back before I could get my -fellows to turn. I didn't want them to go far in that dense fog of -gassy smoke, and there was hardly any daylight left. I didn't want them -tumbling into any ambush. On the way back we gathered up a score of -Boche knives, a lot of their caps, two or three rifles, and a whole box -of their hand grenades, with not one missing. - -That was the end of the first bombardment we've seen. It lasted -exactly an hour, and our gunners tell us the Boche sent more than 5000 -shells over in that time. He has certainly knocked our line about -rather badly. All hands are at work now repairing the trench and -the wire, with a whole Company of R.E. to help. Our casualties were -eighteen wounded and seven killed. We buried thirty-one dead Boches, -and they removed a good many dead. We got eleven wounded and nine -unwounded Boche prisoners. Of course, they took a lot of their wounded -away. They captured no prisoners from us. - -I am sorry to say that another of our officers, Tony, is among the -wounded, but the M.O. says he'll be back with us in a week. If only -we could say that of the Infant! We are all sad about him; such a -brave lad! but mighty pleased with the Company. The Brigadier says the -Company has done splendidly. He was specially glad to know that the -Boche collared no prisoners from us. It was our first taste, really, -of bombardment, and of hand-to-hand fighting; and the men are now much -keener even than they were before to get the Boche. They swear he shall -pay dearly for the Infant and for six of their mates. They mean it, -too, believe me. And we mean to help them get their payment. There -isn't so much as a scratch on your - - "_Temporary Gentleman_." - - - - -THE DAY'S WORK - - -Your letters are a great joy, and I feel that I give mighty little -in return for their unfailing regularity. But I am sure you will -understand that out here, where there's no writing-table to turn -to, one simply cannot write half as much as one would like. It's -astonishing how few moments there are in which, without neglect, one -can honestly say there is nothing waiting to be done. - -In your letter of the fifteenth, at this moment propped up in front of -me against a condensed milk tin, you say: "When you can, I wish you'd -jot down for me a sort of schedule of the ordinary, average day's work -in the trenches when there is nothing special on, so that I can picture -the routine of your life." Oh, for more ability as a jotter down! I -know by what I used to see in the papers before leaving England there's -a general idea at home that the chief characteristic of trench life is -its dreary monotony, and that one of our problems is how to pass the -time. How the idea ever got abroad I can't imagine. I don't see how -there ever could have been a time like that in trenches. Certainly we -have never had a hint of it; not the shadow of a hint. If anyone has -ever tasted the boredom of idleness in the trenches--which I don't -believe, mind you--there must have been something radically wrong with -his Battalion; his Company Commander must have been a rotter. And I -don't see how _that_ could be. - -A trench, especially in such country as this we're in, is not unlike a -ship; a rather ancient and leaky wooden ship. If you don't keep busy -about her she leaks like a sieve, gets unworkably encrusted and choked -by barnacles, and begins to decay. If you don't keep improving her, she -jolly soon begins to go to pieces. Only, I imagine the disintegrating -process is a great deal quicker in a trench in this part of the world -than it could be in the most unseaworthy of ships. - -The daily routine? Well, it would be wrong to say there isn't any. -There is. But it differs every day and every hour of the day, except in -certain stable essentials. Every day brings happenings that didn't come -the day before. One fixed characteristic is that it's a twenty-four -day, rather than twelve hours of day and twelve hours of night. Of -course, the overruling factor is strafe. But there's also something -pretty bossy about the condition of your trench. Some kind of repairs -simply cannot wait. The trench must continue to provide cover from -observation, and some sort of cover from fire, or it ceases to be -tenable, and one would not be carrying out one's fundamental duty of -properly holding the sector of line to which one is detailed; which, -obviously, would be unthinkable. Still, as I say, there are some -elements of stable routine. Well, here goes. It won't cover the ground. -I'm not a competent enough jotter down for that, but such as it is---- - -We think of every fresh day as beginning with "Stand-to." The main -idea behind this function is that dawn is the classic moment for an -attack. I'm not quite sure that this or any other classic idea holds -good in trench warfare, but "Stand-to" is a pretty sound sort of an -institution, anyhow. We Stand-to one hour before daylight. In some -Companies the precise hour is laid down overnight or for the week. Our -skipper doesn't believe in that. He likes to make a sort of a test of -every Stand-to, and so gives no notice beforehand of the time at which -he is going to order it. And I think he's right. - -You will easily understand that of all things in trench warfare -nothing is more important than the ability of your Company to man the -fire-step, ready to repel an attack, or to make one, on the shortest -possible notice. When the order comes there must be no fiddling about -looking for rifles, or appearing on the fire-step with incomplete -equipment. See how useless that would be in the event of a surprise -attack in the dark, when the enemy could creep very close indeed to -your parapet before the best of sentries could give any alarm! Troops -in the firing line must be able to turn out, equipped in every detail -for fighting--for days on end of fighting--not only quickly, but -instantly; without any delay at all. That is why, in the British Army, -at all events--and I've no doubt the French are the same--nobody in -the firing line is allowed to remove his equipment. Officer and man -alike, when we lie down to sleep, we lie down in precisely the same -order as we go into action: haversack and water-bottle, ammunition -and everything complete. That detail of the filled water-bottle, for -instance, may make all the difference between a man who is an asset to -his country in a critical action and a man who is useless and a bad -example. You never know the moment at which an action that will last -forty-eight hours or more is going to begin; and, though a man may keep -going a long while without food, he's not much use if he cannot rinse -his mouth out after a bit. - -But at this rate I shall never get done. It's always so when I set out -to write to you about any specific thing. - -Well, we Stand-to an hour before dawn. It happens this way: "the -Peacemaker" is in the trench doing something, or he comes out of the -dug-out. He looks at his watch and at the sky, and he tells his orderly -to bring another orderly. Then he says to the pair of them: "Pass the -word to Stand-to." One bolts along the trench to the left and one to -the right; and as they hurry along they give the word to every sentry -and to everyone they see: "Stand-to!" Meanwhile "the Peacemaker" pokes -about and observes, and jumps like a hundred of bricks on any man -whose bayonet is not fixed, whose belt is unbuckled, or who is slow in -getting to the fire-step. All this time he has his watch in his hand. - -Pretty soon the first of those two orderlies comes racing back. -Very often they see each other approaching the Officer Commanding -from opposite directions, and make a real race of it, and report -breathlessly: "All correct, sir." To be able to do this, they must have -got the word from each Platoon Sergeant. Probably about this time the -officer on duty comes along from whatever part of the line he happens -to have been patrolling at the time. And he also reports that all was -correct in the part of the line he has come from, or that such and such -a section was a bit behind this morning, and that Corporal So-and-so -wants a little stirring up. - -Also, by this time the Company Sergeant-Major will have arrived, -with a couple of runners, each carrying under his arm a jar of -mixed rum-and-water, half and half. Rum is never served out in any -circumstances, save in the presence of an officer. So the officer on -duty goes to one end of the line, and "the Peacemaker" to the other, -and both work slowly back toward the centre, watching the serving out -of the rum, and looking carefully over each man and his equipment. In -the centre, the officer on duty probably waits, while the O.C. Company -goes right on, so that he may see the whole of his line and every -single man in it. So you see, in a way, Stand-to is a parade, as well -as an important tactical operation. Because, remember, the sentries -are keenly watching all this while, and so are a good many more pairs -of eyes than look out at any other time. But, whereas the sentries are -steadily gazing into the rapidly greying mysteries of No Man's Land, -the other pairs of eyes are only taking occasional sharp glances, and -then down again, below the parapet. - -There has probably been very little firing from either side during -this time. Now, very suddenly, a violent crackling starts along to -the left of the line. Instantly, every exposed head ducks. Fritz has -started the first verse of his morning Hymn of Hate. He always thinks -to catch us, and never does. We enjoy his hymn, because we love to see -him waste his ammunition, as he proceeds to do now in handsome style. -Br-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r! The spray of his machine-guns traverses very -neatly up and down the length of our parapet. His gunners are clearly -convinced that at Stand-to time they are certain to get a few English -heads. Then, as suddenly as he began, he stops; and--every head remains -ducked. We've been at some pains to teach 'em that. Twenty seconds -later--or it may be two minutes--the spray begins again, just where -it stopped, or a hundred yards to right or left of that. The Boche is -quite smart about this; only he seems to act on the assumption that we -never learn anything. That's where he's rather sold. - -And, while Fritz sends forth his morning Hymn, our snipers in their -carefully-hidden posts have their eyes glued on the neighbourhood of -his machine-gun emplacements; and every now and again they get their -reward, and the head of a Boche machine-gun observer, or some other -Teuton whose curiosity overcomes his discretion, drops never to rise -any more. - -Before the Hymn began, you understand, the greying mystery has grown -considerably less mysterious, and one has been able to see almost as -much in the pearly dawn light as one will see at high noon, especially -in these misty localities. - -When Fritz has got through the last verse of his Hymn he is almost -invariably quiet and harmless as a sucking dove for an hour or two. I -take it he makes a serious business of his breakfast. And there again -he often pays. Our snipers have their brekker later, and devote half an -hour now to observation of the neighbourhood of all the little spirals -of smoke in the Boche lines which indicate breakfast fires. They -generally have some luck then; and sometimes it becomes worth while -to turn on a machine-gun or two, where Fritz's appetite has made him -careless. - -It is now broad daylight, and our ration parties appear, four to each -platoon, trailing up the trenches from the rear with the breakfast -tea and bacon. Each party dumps its dixey of tea down in the centre -of the sector of its platoon, and the Platoon Sergeant dishes out to -the section commanders the whack of bacon for their sections, while -all hands draw their mugs of tea. The bread and jam and "dry rations" -were drawn overnight. And so to breakfast, in the dug-outs or along the -fire-step, according to the state of the weather. It's breakfast for -all hands, except the sentries, and they are relieved to get theirs -directly the men to relieve them have eaten. With the exception of -those who are on duty, the officers get along to the Company dug-out -for their breakfast, which the batmen have been preparing. They cook -it, you know, over a brazier--some old pail or tin with holes punched -in it, consuming coke and charcoal mixed, or whatever fuel one has. -Fried bacon, tea, and bread-and-jam; that's our usual menu. Sometimes -there may be a tin of fruit as well, or some luxury of that sort from -home. Always there are good appetites and no need of sauce. - -But, look here, I've just got to stop now. And yet I've only reached -breakfast in my jotting of the day's routine in trenches. Isn't it -maddening? Well, I'll get another chance to-night or to-morrow, and -give you some more of it. I really will finish it, and I'm sorry I -couldn't have done it in one letter, as it would have been done by a -more competent jotter-down of things than your - - "_Temporary Gentleman_." - - - - -TOMMY DODD AND TRENCH ROUTINE - - -You'll be grieved to hear that cheery, indomitable little Tommy Dodd -was rather badly laid out this morning; four or five nasty wounds from -shrapnel. But I think he'll pull through. He has so much of the will to -live, and I am sure a soul so uniformly cheerful as his must make its -body easier to heal. - -I wasn't six paces from him at the time. We were fastening some -barbed-wire stays on screw standards we meant to put out to-night. I -had just lent him my thick leather gloves after showing him exactly -how I wanted these stays fixed, with little stakes bound on at the end -of them, so as to save time to-night when we are over the parapet. He -was busy as a beaver, as he generally is; a bit nearer to Whizz-bang -Corner than was quite wise--I shall always reproach myself for not -keeping him farther from that ill-omened spot--when the shell burst low -overhead. I got a dozen tiny flicks myself on hands and head, which the -M.O. touched up with iodine after he bandaged Tommy Dodd. But Tommy was -badly hit in the thigh, one arm, and the left shoulder. - -He was parchment-colour by the time I got the stretcher-bearers along, -and that was only a matter of seconds. We were close to their little -dug-out, as it happened. He'd lost a lot of blood. But he grinned at -me, with a kind of twist in his grin, as I helped lift him into the -trench stretcher. - -"Looks almost like a Blighty for me, sir, don't it? Well, even the -Boche must hit something sometimes. It's only an outer this time, an' -look at the thousands o' rounds when he don't get on the target at -all! Sorry I couldn't 've finished them stays, sir. If you send for -Davis, o' Number 5 Section, you'll find him pretty good at it, sir." -And then he turned to the stretcher-bearer in front, who had the strap -over his shoulder, and was just bracing himself to start off when he'd -done talking. "Home, John!" he says, with a little kick up of his head, -which I really can't describe. "An' be sure you don't exceed the limit, -for I can't abide them nasty low perlice courts an gettin' fined." - -And yet, when we got down to Battalion Headquarters, the M.O. told -me Tommy Dodd ought by all rights to have been insensible, from the -blood he'd lost and the shock of those wounds: not surface wounds, -you know. He'll have two or three months of hospital comfort now. I -hope to goodness nothing septic will intervene. The Battalion would be -the poorer for it if we lost Tommy. The M.O. says he'll pull through. -The M.O. cropped little patches of hair off round my head, to rub the -iodine in where I was scratched, so I look as if I had ringworm. - -But to get back to business. I've got to "jot down" this everyday -trench routine for you, haven't I? And I only got as far as breakfast -in yesterday's letter. We'll get a move on and run through it now. I'm -due on deck directly after lunch to relieve Taffy; and it's past eleven -now. - -After breakfast one-half the men kip down for a sleep, and the other -half turn to for work. Then after the mid-day dinner, the half that -rested in the forenoon, work; and throughout the night all hands -stand their turn at sentry-go. That's the principle--in our Company, -anyhow. But, of course, it doesn't always work out quite like that. -Everything naturally gives way to strafing considerations, and at times -urgent repairing work makes it necessary to forgo half or all the day -rest-time. As for the officers--there are only three of us now, besides -"the Peacemaker"--one officer is always on duty, day and night. We take -that in three-hour spells, the three of us. Then in the day-time, while -the turn of duty is a fixed thing, we are, as a matter of fact, about -at some job or another all the time; just as the O.C. Company is about -all the twenty-four hours. At night we three do take our time off for -sleep after a tour of duty, unless in some emergency or other. "The -Peacemaker" just gets odd cat-naps when he can. - -You might think that if there'd been no particular artillery strafing -going on there would be no necessary repair work for the men to do in -the trench. But you see, we've practically always got a new dug-out -in course of construction, and a refuse pit to be dug, and a sniping -shelter to be made, and a new bit of trench to be cut. We have nine -separate sumps where pumps are fixed in our line. And if those pumps -were not well worked each day we'd soon be flooded out. There's -generally some wire and standards to be got ready for putting out at -night, with a few "Gooseberries" and trip wires where our entanglements -have been weakened by shell fire. I've never yet seen a trench that -wasn't crying out for some sort of work on it. - -At breakfast "the Peacemaker" will generally talk over the jobs he -specially wants us to put through during the day, and give us any notes -he may have taken during the night, round the trenches. Then chits -begin coming in by 'phone from Battalion Headquarters; and chits, -however short and innocent they may look, nearly always boil down to a -job of work to be done. In fact, one way and another, jobs invariably -invade the breakfast table and every other meal-time; and before the -tea-mugs are filled up a second time one nearly always hears a batman -told to "clear this end, will you, to make room for me to write a chit." - -Then there will be a visitor, probably the C.O., pretty soon after -breakfast, and "the Peacemaker" will trot round our line with him, -discussing. Ten to one that visit will mean more jobs of work; and, -occasionally, what's a deal more welcome, a new plan for a little -strafe of some sort. - -And then one sees the ration parties trailing up again from the rear, -and dinner has arrived; some kind of a stew, you know, as a rule, with -bully as alternative; potatoes if you're lucky, jam anyhow, more tea, -and some sort of pickings from home parcels in the way of cake or -biscuits, figs or what not. During and immediately after dinner--in the -dug-out we call it lunch, from habit, but it's about the same thing -as the evening meal, as a rule--we always plan out the night's work, -patrols, wiring, any little strafe we have on, and that sort of thing. - -We are a bit luxurious in "A" Company, and generally run to a mug of -afternoon tea; sometimes (if the recent mails have been heavy) to -an outburst of plum cake or shortbread with it. And an hour before -dark comes evening Stand-to. Technically, this has some tactical -significance, even as the morning Stand-to has actually. But as a -matter of fact, in the evening it's a parade, more than anything else, -to inspect rifles, check up ammunition, call the roll, and see the men -are all right. - -By the way, you asked me something about the rum. I don't think it's -issued at all in the summer months. What we issue now, once a day, -is, I think, one gill per man of the half-and-half mixture of rum and -water. I think it's a gill; a pint mug has to supply eight men. I -think, on the whole, it's a useful issue, and can't possibly do any -harm. It's thundering good rum; good, honest, mellow stuff, and very -warming. - -About seven o'clock we generally have a feed, from habit, you know, -that being the time we used to have dinner in camp in England. It's the -same sort of feed we have in middle day. And after that, the officer -who is going on duty at midnight, say, will generally get a sleep. The -usual round of night work is well under way by now--patrols, wiring -parties, work on the parapet, and so on, according to what the moon -allows. If there's too much light, these things have to come later. - -With regard to work for sentry reliefs, the way we have in our Company -is this: a sentry's relief--the sentries are always double by night and -single by day--must always be within call of the sentry; therefore we -never let him go beyond the bay next to the one the sentry occupies, -that is, round the next traverse. Well, we hold the reliefs responsible -for keeping those two bays in good order; clean and pumped, sides -revetted, fire-step clear and in repair, the duck-boards lifted and -muck cleared out from under them each day, and so forth. All used -cartridges have to be gathered up and put in the sand-bag hung over the -fire-step for that purpose, for return to store. - -Unless there is real strafing going on the trenches grow pretty silent -after midnight. At least, it seems so to the officer on duty as he -makes his way from one end of his line to the other. One gets very -tired then. There's never any place where you can sit down in a trench. -I am sure the O.C. Company is often actually on his feet for twenty-two -out of the twenty-four hours. I say it's very quiet. Well, it's a -matter of comparison, of course. If in the middle of the street at two -o'clock in the morning at home you heard a few rifles fired, you would -think it remarkably noisy. But here, if there's nothing going on except -rifle fire, say at the rate of a couple of shots a minute, the trenches -seem extraordinarily quiet; ghostly quiet. - -You go padding along in your gum boots, feeling your way with your -stick, which usually carries such a thick coat of mud on it that its -taps on the duck-boards are hardly audible. You come round the corner -of a traverse, and spot a sentry's helmet against the sky-line. "Who -goes there?" he challenges you, hoarsely, and you answer, "Lieutenant -So-and-so, ---- Regiment," and he gives you leave to pass. - -One has to be careful about these challenges. At first the men were -inclined to be casual and grunt out, "Tha's all right!" or just the -name of the Regiment when challenged. One had to correct that tendency. -It is easy for a Boche to learn to say "Tha's all right," or to mention -the name of a Regiment opposite his line. Plenty of them have been -waiters, barbers, clerks, bakers, and so on in London. So we insist -on formal correctness in these challenges, and the officer or man who -doesn't halt promptly on being challenged takes his chance of a bullet -or a bayonet in his chest. - -One stops for a word or two with every sentry, and one creeps out -along the saps for a word with the listening posts. It helps them -through their time, and it satisfies you that they're on the spot, -mentally as well as physically. There's hardly a man in "A" Company who -is not an inveterate smoker, but, do you know, I have never once got -a whiff of 'baccy smoke in the neighbourhood of a sentry since we've -been in trenches, never a suspicion of it! Neither have I ever found a -sentry who was not genuinely watching to his front; and if the Colonel -himself comes along and asks one a question there's not one of them -ever betrayed into turning his eyes from his front. They're good lads. - -And so the small hours lengthen into the rather larger ones, and -morning Stand-to comes round again. It isn't often it's so absolutely -uneventful as my jottings on the subject, of course. But you must just -regard this as the merest skeleton outline of the average routine of -trench days. And then, to be sure, I've left out lots of little things. -Also, every day brings its special happenings, and big or little -strafes. One thing we do not get in trenches, and I cannot believe we -ever should, from what I've seen of it; and that is monotony, boredom, -idleness, lack of occupation. That's a fancy of the newspaper writers -which, so far as I know, has literally no relation whatever to the -facts of trench life on the British Front in France; certainly not to -anything as yet seen by your - - "_Temporary Gentleman_." - - - - -STALKING SNIPERS - - -We are trying to work one of our little cunning stunts to-day. Last -night I had an observation patrol out, and having no special job on, -decided to devote our time to the examination of the Boche wire--their -entanglements, you know, in the sector opposite our particular line. -I had only two men with me: one of my own Platoon scouts and a lad -named Hankin, of whom I have great hopes as a sniper. He's in my No. -3 Section, and a very safe and pretty shot with a rifle, especially -at long ranges. He'd never been on patrol and was most anxious to go, -and to have an opportunity of looking at the Boche line, to verify his -suspicions regarding certain holes in the ground which he thought their -snipers used. Our patrol had two interesting results, for one of which -we have to thank Hankin's intelligence. The other was a bit of luck. -The reason I took such a small patrol was that the aim was observation -pure and simple; not strafing; and the men were more than usually -tired, and had a lot of parapet repair work which had to be put through -before daylight. - -It was about a quarter to one in the morning when we went out, there -having been too much moonlight before then. Hankin had prepared a -regular chart of the Boche line from his own observations from his -sniping post; quite a clever little map it is, showing clearly his -suspected sniping shelters, of which there are four. We drew a blank -in the first two of these, and for the third had to tack back from the -line of the Boche wire, towards our own, along the side of an old sap, -all torn to bits and broken in with shell fire. Hankin felt certain he -had seen the flash of rifles from this hole; but I thought it was too -near our own wire to attract any Boche sniper for regular use. - -I need hardly say that on a job of this sort one moves very slowly, -and uses the utmost possible precaution to prevent noise. It was -now absolutely dark, the moon having gone down and the sky being -much overcast. But for my luminous-faced compass (which one consults -under one's coat flap to prevent it from showing) we should have been -helpless. As it was, on the bearings I worked out before starting, we -steered comfortably and fairly accurately. - -All of a sudden came a shock, a rifle fired, as it seemed, under our -noses, actually from about twenty-five paces ahead on the track we were -making. - -"That's him, sir," breathed Hankin in my right ear. - -I looked at the compass. The shot came from dead on the spot where -Hankin's third hole should be; the one we were making for then. - -"How about a little bomb for him, sir?" whispered the scout on my left. - -But I shook my head. Too much like looking for a needle in a bundle of -hay, and too much like asking the Boche for machine-gun fire. It was -fair to assume the Boche sniper who fired that shot would be facing our -trenches; the same direction in which we were facing at that moment, -since we were working back from the German wire towards our own. I -pushed my lips close up to Hankin's ear and whispered: "We'll try -stalking him." Hankin nodded, quite pleased. - -Then I whispered to the scout to follow us very, very carefully, and -not too closely. I didn't want him to lose touch, but, for the sake -of quietness, one would sooner, of course, go alone. We kept about -six paces between us laterally, Hankin and myself, and we advanced by -inches. - -I must say I should have been grateful for a shade more light, or less -inky blackness. The edge of that sniper's hole was not sloping, but -sheer; and, crawling slowly along, I struck my right hand clean over -it into nothingness, letting my chest down with an audible bump. Right -before me then I heard a man's body swing round on the mud, and the -sniper let out some kind of a German exclamation which was a sort of -squeal. It was, really, much more like some wild animal's cry than -anything human. I had to chance it then. The sound was so amazingly -close. I couldn't see him, but-- And when I sprang, the thing my hands -gripped on first was not the beggar's windpipe or shoulders, as I had -hoped, but his rifle, carried in his left hand on his left side. - -It was rather like tom-cats coming to blows. I swear he spat. As you -know, I'm rather heavy, and I think my spring, slightly to his left, -knocked him off his balance. He hadn't any chance. But, though I got -his left wrist, and covered his mouth with my chest, I was a bit uneasy -about his right hand, which for the moment I couldn't find. Lucky for -me he hadn't got a dagger in it, or he might have ripped me open. But -Hankin pretty soon found his right hand, and then we hauled him up to -his feet. I passed his rifle to the scout, and we just marched him -along the front of our wire to Stinking Sap, and so into our own front -trench; Hankin holding one of his arms, I taking the other, and the -scout coming behind with the muzzle of the man's own rifle in the small -of his back. There was no need to crawl, the night being as black as -your hat; and in three or four minutes we had that sniper in front of -"the Peacemaker" in the Company dug-out. - -It was neat, wasn't it? And all thanks to the ingenious Hankin's -careful observations and his chart. He'll get his first stripe for -that, and very soon have another to keep it company, or I'm much -mistaken. "The Peacemaker" was delighted, and wrote a full report of -the capture to be sent down to Headquarters with the prisoner. Snipers -are worth capturing, you know, and this looked like an intelligent chap -whose cross-examination might be useful to our Brass-hats. - -Queer thing about this sniper, he spoke English almost like a native. -We are not allowed to examine prisoners on our own account. All that's -done by the powers behind the line. But this fellow volunteered a -little talk while we were getting the report made out. He was quite -satisfied when he realised we were not going to harm him in any way, -but it was perfectly clear he had expected to be done in. You'd -have thought he would have known better. He'd spent nine years in -London, part of the time a waiter, and later a clerk. He had lived at -Kennington, and then in lodgings on Brixton Hill, I'll trouble you. -Extraordinary, isn't it? He'd been told that London was practically -in ruins, and that the Zepps had made life there impossible. He also -thought that we in France were completely cut off from England, the -Channel being in the hands of the German Navy, and England isolated -and rapidly starving! I gather the Boches in the fighting line have no -notion at all of the real facts of the war. - -Well, having been so far successful, we decided to resume our patrol, -the main purpose of which--examination of the Boche wire--hadn't been -touched yet. So off we went again down Stinking Sap; and I could see -that Hankin and Green, the scout, bore themselves as victors, with -something of the swank of the old campaigner and hero of a thousand -patrols. A great asset, mind you, is a reasonable amount of swank. -These two had not been out before this night, but already they climbed -over the parapet and moved about in No Man's Land with a real and -complete absence of the slightest hint of nervousness. - -Now I must cut this short because I have to go an errand for "the -Peacemaker," to have a little talk with a Battery Commander. We had a -pretty good prowl up and down the Boche wire, and made an interesting -discovery on the extreme left of our sector. There was a shade more -light then; not from the moon, of course, but from stars; the sky -having become less overcast. I ran my nose right up against a miniature -sign-post; a nice little thing, with feathers stuck in cracks near the -top of it, presumably to give Boche patrols their bearings. I should -have liked to take it away as a souvenir, but I didn't want to arouse -Hun suspicions, so left it. The interesting thing was that this little -sign-post--about eighteen inches high, planted among the front wire -stakes--pointed the way in to the Boche trenches by an S-shaped lane -through their wire entanglements; so shaped, of course, as to prevent -it from being easily seen from our line. - -We crawled along this lane a bit, far enough to make sure that it was -a clear fairway into the Boche front trench. Then I got a careful -bearing, which I subsequently verified half a dozen times; and we made -our way back to Stinking Sap. I haven't time to tell you of our cunning -plan about this discovery. That's what I'm to see the Battery Commander -about. But if we can make the arrangement we want to make with the -gunners, we'll bring off a nice little bombing raid to-night, and I'll -let you know all about it in my next letter. Meanwhile I must scurry -off, or I shall miss the Battery Commander in his rounds, and there -will be a telling-off for your - - "_Temporary Gentleman_." - - - - -AN ARTFUL STUNT - - -Out of trenches again. I wanted to write you yesterday to tell you -about the bombing raid of our last night in; but we had a full day, and -were not relieved till late evening; so I got no chance of writing till -this afternoon. But I can tell you we came out with our tails well up -this time, and "A" Company putting on more side than ever. I dare say -"D" Company, our closest rivals, will put up something pretty startling -when we go in again. They're very determined to beat our record in -every kind of strafing, and I'm bound to say they do put up some good -shows. They've two more officers than we have now, and the Boche has -discovered that they are very much out for business. - -Whether we get Bavarians or Prussians opposite us it makes small odds; -they've no earthly chance of a quiet time while we're in the line. The -public at home read about the big things, and I suppose when they read -that "The rest of the Front was quiet," they're inclined to wonder how -we put our time in. Ah, well! the "quiet" of the dispatches wouldn't -exactly suit a conscientious objector, I can assure you. It's a kind of -"quiet" that keeps Master Boche pretty thoroughly on the hop. But on -the whole, I'm rather glad the dispatches are like that. I'd be sorry -to see 'em make a song and dance about these little affairs of ours. -Only, don't you run away with the idea that when you read "Remainder -of the Front quiet," it means the Boche was being left alone; for he -isn't, not by long odds. - -You will remember that opposite our extreme left I had discovered an -S-shaped opening leading through the barbed wire to the Boche front -line, so cut, no doubt, for the convenience of their patrols at night. -We decided that we would make use of that opening for a bombing raid -on our last night in. Now, you must understand that one of the chief -uses of the barbed-wire entanglements is to keep off the prowling -bomber. The entanglements extend to, say, forty to sixty paces from -the trench. You cannot hope to make accurate practice in bomb-throwing -at a distance of more than thirty yards. Consequently, as I explained -before, to shy bombs into the average trench the bomber must worry his -way through twenty paces or so of barbed-wire entanglements. It is very -difficult to do that without attracting the attention of sentries, and -impossible to do it quickly with or without noise. Hence you perceive -the unpleasant predicament of the bomber when he has heaved his first -bomb. He has offered himself as a target to the Boche machine-guns and -rifles at a moment when he is in the midst of a maze of barbed wire, -from which he can only hope to retreat slowly and with difficulty. - -Then why not cut a lane through the Boche wire by means of shells, just -before dark, and use that to bomb from after dark? Excellent. Only, if -you were the Boche and we cut a lane through your wire one evening just -before dark, wouldn't you train a machine-gun or two on that opening so -that you could sweep it with fire at any moment you wished during the -night; and wouldn't you have a dozen extra rifles with keen eyes behind -'em trained on the same spot; and wouldn't you be apt to welcome that -nice little lane as a trap in which you could butcher English Tommies -like sitting pheasants? Wouldn't you now? - -Well, my business with the Battery Commander was to get on his right -side and induce him to expend a certain number of rounds from his dear -little guns that afternoon in cutting a nice line through the Boche -entanglements opposite the extreme right of our line. It happened that, -without interfering with the sort of sinking fund process by which the -lords of the guns build up their precious reserves of ammunition, this -particular lord was in a position to let us have a few rounds. - -Of course, our attitude towards the gunners is not always strictly -reasonable, you know. We are for ever wanting them to spend ammunition, -while their obvious duty is to accumulate ammunition greedily and all -the time against the hours of real need, so that when these hours come -they may simply let everything rip--take the lid right off. However, -for reasons of their own, apart from mine, it happened fortunately that -the gunners were not at all averse from giving that bit of the Boche -line a mild pounding; and, accordingly, they promised us a nice neat -lane on the extreme right by nightfall. - -We said nothing about the beautiful S-shaped lane on the extreme -left, which Master Boche thought was known only to himself. Observe -our extreme artfulness. We proceeded to train a grenade rifle on the -extreme right, likewise a machine-gun. Then we proceeded to tell off -our best bombers, and overhaul carefully a good supply of hand-grenades -for use in the S-shaped opening on our extreme left. - -Until midnight there was a certain amount of moonlight, and for several -hours we kept the Boche very busy on our extreme right, where, with -a trifling expenditure of ammunition, the guns had cut a lane for us -through his barbed wire. I've no doubt at all that Fritz had several -machine-guns concentrated on that spot, and a bunch of rifle-men too. -He made up his mind he would have the English on toast in that lane, -and we encouraged him to think so. - -You know, at night-time it is not very easy to tell the difference -between the explosion of a hand-grenade and that of a rifle-grenade. -But whereas the hand-grenade could only be lobbed in from among the -wire, the rifle-grenade could easily be sent over from our trench at -that particular spot on our right. So we sent 'em over at all kinds -of confusing intervals. And then, when Boche opened machine-gun fire -across the lane, under the impression that our bombers were at work -there, we replied with bursts of machine-gun fire on his parapet -opposite the lane, thereby, I make no doubt, getting a certain number -of heads. It is certain they would be looking out, and equally certain -they would not be expecting fire from our trenches, when they thought -we had our own bombers out there. - -It was an attractive game, and we kept it going till nearly midnight. -Then we stopped dead, leaving them to suppose we had given up hope of -overcoming their watchfulness. We arranged to reopen the ball at 1.30 -A.M. precisely, with rifle-grenades and machine-gun fire as might prove -suitable, but with no end of a row in any case. - -At one o'clock I started from Stinking Sap, on our extreme left, with -twelve of our best bombers, each carrying an apronful of bombs. There -wasn't a glimmer of any kind of light. We made direct for the S-shaped -opening, and lay down outside the wire there. In our own trench, before -starting, we had made all arrangements. I had six men on either side -of me, and each man knew precisely what his particular job was. "The -Peacemaker" never tires of insisting on that principle, and, of course, -he is right. Nothing is any good unless it is worked out beforehand so -that each man knows exactly his job, and concentrates on that without -reference to anyone else, or any hanging about waiting instructions. - -At 1.20 we began crawling down the S-shaped opening in our proper -order. At 1.30 the first rifle-grenade ripped over from the extreme -right of our line. Others followed in quick succession, and on the -report of the sixth we jumped to our feet and ran forward, extending -to right and left from me as we reached the inside of the wire, and -chucking our first bombs--thirteen of 'em--as we got into position. It -was so close there was no possibility of missing, and I can tell you -thirteen bombs make some show when they all explode beautifully right -inside a trench a few yards in front of you. - -Then we all scrambled over the parapet down into the trench over a -front of, say, thirty paces. The six men on my right hand at once -turned to their right, and those on my left to their left. It worked -splendidly. Each party travelled along the trench as quickly as it -could, bombing over each traverse before rounding it. The row was -terrific. - -In that order each party went along six successive bays of the trench. -Then immediately they began to reverse the process, travelling more -slowly this time and bombing more thoroughly. They were working back -on their centre now, you understand, still bombing outward, of course. -We had the luck to strike a splendid piece of trench with no fewer -than three important dug-outs in it, and we made a shambles of each of -them. It was wildly exciting while it lasted, but I suppose we were not -more than four or five minutes in the trench. We exploded thirty-two -bombs during those few minutes, every single one of them with good -effect; and when we scrambled out into the S-shaped opening again we -took with us an undamaged Boche machine-gun and four prisoners, one of -them wounded and three unwounded. We killed nine men in the trench, and -a good round number in the three dug-outs. I had a bunch of maps and -papers from the first of those dug-outs. And we didn't improve their -trench or the dug-outs. Thirty-two bombs make a difference. - -The machine-gun hampered us a bit, but I can tell you we made pretty -good time getting across to Stinking Sap. The Boches were hopelessly -confused by the whole business, and while we were crossing to the -extreme left of our own line they were wildly blazing at our extreme -right and pouring flares and machine-gun fire over the lane through -their wire. Naturally, nobody was in the least exposed on our right, -except perhaps the man operating the machine-gun, which probably did -good execution among Boche observers of that neat little lane our -artillery had cut for us. - -It was a delightful show and cost us nothing in casualties, except -two men very slightly wounded, one in the right foot and the other in -the left hand and arm from our own bomb splinters. But, as our good -old bombing Sergeant said, it "fairly put the wind up them bloomin' -sauer-krauters." Incidentally, and owing far more to the fine behaviour -of the men than to anything I did, it earned a lot of bouquets from -different quarters for your - - "_Temporary Gentleman_." - -P.S.--Next day's report as served up to you and the public in the -newspapers at home would, of course, and rightly enough no doubt, -include our sector in the "remainder of the Front," which was "quiet." -Or we might be included in a two-line phrase about "minor activities," -or "patrols were active on various points of the line"--as they -certainly are all the time. - - - - -THE SPIRIT OF THE MEN - - -The parcels from W----'s arrived all safe and sound, thanks to your -careful arrangements, and we are, in consequence, living in the lap -of luxury. The tinned fruit is specially appreciated, and very good -for us, I've no doubt. By the way, you will be glad to know that the -boiler-maker's suit in one piece of water-proofed canvas is a huge -success. I wore it on that last bombing raid. For patrol work, or -wiring, for anything over the parapet, and in the trench, too, at -night-time, for instance, I don't think there's anything to beat it. -There's nothing to catch or get in one's way, and it's a great joy to -keep one's ordinary clothes clean and decent. On patrol it's better -than oilskin, because it's silent--doesn't rustle. - -I dare say you've heard that phrase--I forget whose it is--about the -backbone of the Army being the non-commissioned man. I suspect it was -all right when it was written, and goodness knows, there's not much -the matter with the non-commissioned man to-day. Only, there isn't the -difference that there was between the N.C.O. and the "other ranks"--the -men. The N.C.O. isn't the separate type he was, because the N.C.O. of -to-day is so often the man of yesterday; promotion having necessarily -been rapid in the New Army. We had to make our own N.C.O.'s from the -start. They're all backbone, now, men and N.C.O.'s alike. And the -officers are quite all right, thank you, too. I doubt whether officers -in any Army have ever worked harder than the officers of our New -Army--the "Temporary Gentlemen," you know--are working to-day. They -have had to work hard. Couldn't leave it to N.C.O.'s, you see, because, -apart from anything else, they've had to make the N.C.O.'s out of -privates; teach 'em their job. So we're all backbone together. - -And when you hear some fellow saying "The men are splendid," you -need not think he's just paying a conventional tribute or echoing a -stereotyped kind of praise. It's true; "true as death," as Harry Lauder -used to sing; it's as true as anything I know. It's Gospel truth. The -men are absolutely and all the time splendid. - -I'm not an emotional sort of a chap, and I'm sure before the war I -never gave a thought to such things; but, really, there is something -incurably and ineradicably fine about the rough average Englishman, who -has no surface graces at all. You know the kind I mean. The decency of -him is something in his grain. It stands any test you like to apply. -It's the same colour all the way through. I'm not emotional; but I -don't mind telling you, strictly between ourselves, that since I've -been out here in trenches I've had the water forced into my eyes, not -once, but a dozen times, from sheer admiration and respect, by the -action of rough, rude chaps whom you'd never waste a second glance on -in the streets of London; men who, so far from being exceptional, are -typical through and through; just the common, low-down street average. - -That's the rough, rude, foul-mouthed kind, with no manners at all, -and many ways that you hate. But I tell you, under the strain and -stress of this savage existence he shows up for what he really is, -under his rough, ugly hide: he's jewel all through without an ounce of -dirty Boche meanness or cruelty in his whole carcass. You may hate his -manners if you like but you can't help loving him; you simply can't -help it if you work alongside of him in the trenches in face of the -enemy. - -And that's not the only type we've got that makes you want to take -your hat off to Tommy, and that puts a real respect, which perhaps the -civilian doesn't understand, into your salutes. (It's only silly puppy -boys, or officers who've never been in the presence of an enemy, or -faced immediate danger with men, who can't be bothered properly and -fully acknowledging salutes. You watch a senior, one who's learned his -lessons in real service, and you'll find nothing grudging or casual -or half-hearted. We get into the French way here, with a hint of the -bow, a real salutation in our salutes.) Even more striking, I sometimes -think, is the sterling stuff we find in types of men in the ranks who -haven't naturally anything rough or hard about them: like my ex-draper -chap, you know, in No. 3 Platoon, Ramsay. We've a number of the same -calibre. He was a pillar of his chapel at home and--of all things--a -draper: a gentle, soft-spoken dealer in ribbons and tape. I told you, I -think, how he fought with a man in his section when he fancied he was -not going to be allowed to go out one night with a bombing party. - -You read about calling for volunteers. With our lot it's hopeless to -call for volunteers for a dangerous job. The only thing to do would be -to call for volunteers to stay behind. The other thing's simply a way -of calling out the whole Company; and if it happens to be just half a -dozen you want, that's awkward. - -Then there's the matter of grousing--growling among themselves about -this and that. You would be deceived about this until you got to know -them a bit. It's a queer thing, and not easy to explain, but grousing -is one of the passions of their lives, or, perhaps it would be truer -to say, a favourite form of recreation. But, mark you this, only when -everything is going smoothly, and there is nothing real to grumble -about. It would seem to be absolutely forbidden to growl when there's -anything to growl about; a sort of unwritten law which, since we've -been out here, anyhow, is never transgressed. - -It's rather fine, this, you know, and very English. So long as there's -a little intermittent grousing going on you can be quite sure of two -things--that there's nothing wrong and that the men are in good spirits -and content. If there's no grousing, it means one of two things--either -that the men are angered about something, in which case they will be -unusually silent, or that we are up against real difficulties and -hardships involving real suffering, in which case there will be a lot -of chaffing and joke-cracking and apparent merriment. - -Queer, isn't it? But I think it's a true description. If a long day's -hard labour--clearing out a trench and building up a parapet, we'll -say--is undone and washed out just as it's finished by a succession of -Boche oil-cans, mortars, and general bombardment, which also lays out a -few good men, and blows the next meal rations sky-high, so that there's -the prospect of a long night's extra hard work where some rest had been -expected, and all on an empty stomach--then you'll hear no grousing at -all, but any number of jocular remarks: - -"I tell you, the Army of to-day's _all right_!" "We don't get much -pay, but, my word, we _do_ see life!" "Save me a lot o' trouble, this -will. My fightin' weight was goin' up a lot too fast, but this'll save -me givin' up my port wine an' turtle soup!" Then some wag pretends -to consult his newspaper, and, looking up, announces that: "On the -remainder of the Front the night was comparatively quiet." "Yes," -says another, quoting further from the imaginary news, "and the -banquet which had been arranged for 'A' Company was pos'poned till the -following day." "When it is hoped," adds yet another joker, "that a -number of prominent Boche prisoners will attend." Elaborate winks and -nods; and one man positively licks his lips as he mutters: "Gosh! If -only they really _would_ come over the sticks to-night; if only they -would!" "Reg'ler bloomin' pacifist, isn't he?" remarks a student of the -Press, "longin' to welcome the gentle Hun with open arms, he is--not -'arf!" "We'll welcome him all right, if only the beggar 'd come. I'd -like to use a section or two of 'em for buildin' up this bloomin' -parapet. Be stiffer than these sand-bags full o' slush." "Shame! An' -you a yewmanitarian, too. Why, how'd our poor chaps ever be able to -stand the smell of all them potted Huns, an' so close, too? You're too -harsh, mate; reg'ler Prussian, I call you." - -So it goes on. It's a bitter cold night. They are up nearly to their -thighs in half-frozen slush. Their day's work has been entirely undone -in half an hour, and has to be done over again without any interval -for rest; and the supper ration's "gone West." You can hardly imagine -what the loss of a meal means, with a night like that ahead of you, -and occasional shells still dropping round the bit you must repair. -They look awful ruffians, these chaps; caked all over with mud, hair -and eyebrows and all; three or four days' stubble on their chins, and -all kinds of ribaldry on their lips. They love their ease and creature -comforts at least as much as any conscientious objector could; and God -knows they are here as far removed from ease and creature comfort as -men well could be--entirely of their own free will. And they will carry -on all night, cracking their simple jokes and chaffing one another, and -jostling each other to get to the front if one or two are required for -anything extra dangerous. And the spirit that dictates their little -jokes, isn't it as fine as any shown in bygone days by the aristocrats -of France and England? If you told these fellows they were aristocrats, -imagine how they'd take it! "'Ere, 'op it! Not so much of it! Wotcher -givin' us?" - -But aren't they--bless 'em! I tell you, when I come to compare 'em -with the fellows we're up against across the way; with those poor -devils of machine-driven Boches, with their record of brutish murder -and swinishness in Belgium--why, there's not a shadow of doubt in my -mind they are real aristocrats. The war has helped to make them so, of -course. But, whatever the cause, they stand out, with the splendidly -gallant _poilus_ of France: true aristocrats--five hundred miles of -'em from the North Sea to Switzerland, pitted against the deluded and -brutalised, machine-driven Boches. There are no officers and machine -driving our fellows, or the cheery, jolly French soldiers. Held back -occasionally, directed always, they may be. There's no need of any -driving on our side. Unquestioning obedience to an all-powerful machine -may be a useful thing in its way. I know a better, though; and that's -convinced, willing, eager determination, guided--never driven--by -officers who share it, and share everything else the men have and do. -And that's what there is all down our side of the line, from the North -Sea to Switzerland. - -But, look here; I've just read through my last page, and it seems to -me I've been preaching, ranting, perhaps. I'd better stow it and get on -with my work. You see, one can't _talk_ this kind of thing; and yet--I -don't know, one feels it pretty often, and rather strongly. It's a bit -of a relief to tell you something about it--in writing. Even to you, I -probably shouldn't, by word of mouth, you know. One doesn't, somehow; -but this sort of chatting with a pen is different. All I actually want -to say, though it has taken such a lot of paper to say it on, is that -the men really are splendid. I love them. (It certainly is easier -writing than talking.) I want you to know about it; to know something -about these chaps--they come from every class of the community--so that -you'll love 'em, too. I wish we could make every woman, and every man -and child, too, in England understand how fine these fellows are, and -how fine, really, the life they're leading is. - -For sheer hardness and discomfort there's nothing in the life of the -poorest worker in England to compare with it. They are never out of -instant danger. And the level of their spirits is far higher than -you'd find it in any model factory or workshop at home. Death itself -they meet with little jokes; I mean that literally. And the daily -round of their lives is simply full of little acts of self-sacrifice, -generosity, and unstudied, unnoted heroism, such as famous reputations -are based upon in civil life in peace time. I feel I can't make -it plain, as it deserves to be. I wish I could. But you must just -accept it because I say it, and love 'em all--the French as well as -ours--because they've made themselves loved by your - - "_Temporary Gentleman_." - - - - -AN UNHEALTHY BIT OF LINE - - -Rather to the general surprise, we have been moved into a new sector of -the line, immediately south of what we called "our own." We have not -been told why--the Olympians do not deal in whys and wherefores--but, -according to gossip, we can take our choice between the wish to make -us all familiar with the general lie of the land round here, to be the -better prepared for a push; and the undoubted fact that a new Division -is being moved into the line, and that our move southward facilitates -this. Perhaps the real reason of the move is a mixture of both these; -but, whether or no, the move itself provides striking evidence of the -marked differences which exist between different parts of the line, and -the extremely narrow and circumscribed nature of the knowledge one gets -of the Front while serving in trenches. - -Our "B" Company is holding just now the subsection which actually -adjoins the right of the sector we used to hold. We are on the right of -"B," and "C" is on our right, with "D" back in the support line. Even -"B's" bit, though it does adjoin our old beat, differs greatly from -that; and our present short line is hemispheres away from the sector -we knew before. There's not very much of it--about half the length of -the line we last held--but what there is is hot and strong, I can tell -you. The way in which "B" Company's bit differs is chiefly that it's -in sandy soil, instead of all clay, and so is much drier and cleaner, -more habitable in every way than anything we are accustomed to. But -our bit, variously known as Petticoat Lane (why, I can't imagine), -Cut-Throat Alley (obvious enough), and The Gut--well, our bit is, as -"the Peacemaker" said directly he saw it, "very interesting." I think -that's about the kindest thing you can say of it; and interesting it -certainly is. - -To begin with, the greatest distance between any one spot in it and -the Boche front line is seventy or eighty yards; and there's a place at -which it's only half that. But the salient point in the whole sector -is this: the half of our line that is seventy or eighty yards from -the Boche line has between it and the Boche line a string of craters, -the far lips of which are not more than fifteen to twenty paces from -Fritz's sentries. These craters are sometimes occupied by the Boche and -sometimes by us; but nobody attempts to hold them by day; they don't -give shelter enough for that; and the betting as to who is to hold them -on any given night is about even. - -You might almost say, "But why should anybody want to hold the beastly -things?" And if you ever set foot in one of them, you'd say it with -some feeling, for it's like trying to walk, or rather to crawl, in a -bottomless pit of porridge. When dusk is coming on of an evening half -a dozen of our bombers may start crawling from our parapet, making -for the nearest crater. Maybe Fritz is dull and misses them. Maybe -he opens such a hot fire they have to shin back quick. Maybe, just -as we are getting close to the near edge of a crater, and flattering -ourselves we've been a bit too nippy for the Boche this time, we get a -rousing welcome from the crater itself, in the shape of three or four -well-aimed bombs among us. Then those of us who are still able to think -realise that the Boche has been a bit beforehand and got there first. -Next night the process is reversed. During last night those confounded -craters changed hands three times, remaining at last, I am glad to say, -with us. We lost one man killed and two wounded. But we brought back -two wounded and one dead Boche, and we reckon to have knocked out at -least six others. - -It was a nightmare of a night, to tell the truth, but nothing big -enough to get into dispatches. One point about the holding of these -craters is that it enables you to lob bombs, or almost anything else -for that matter, into the Boche front trench. Down here we really are -learning something about oil-cans, mortars, and short range heavy stuff -generally. It's very much hand-to-hand warfare, and, I suppose because -of that, much more savage and more primitive than anything we've seen -before. There practically isn't any No Man's Land here. It's just our -trench and their trench and the muddy, bloody cock-pit between, all -churned into a slushy batter by high explosives, and full of all manner -of ghastly remains. Souvenirs! By Heavens! the curio hunters could find -all they wanted here within a few yards of where I'm sitting, but not -many of 'em would have the spunk to gather 'em in. You see, I haven't -any great respect for the souvenir hunter. He seems a ghoulish sort of -a creature to me, and I can't believe the cynical old "Peacemaker" when -he says the bulk of them, and all the more inveterate sort, are women. - -The C.O. tells "the Peacemaker" he is so arranging things that no -Company will get more than four days on end in Petticoat Lane, and then -the other three days of the turn in trenches, in the support line, -where Battalion Headquarters is. "A" Company, of course, takes glory -to itself for having been the first to be sent in here, and I think -this fully compensates them for the fact that nobody's had any rest -worth speaking about since we got in. We shall probably do better in -that respect when we have time to get used to the change. In fact, I -can see a difference already in the men's attitude. But, mind you, the -change is radical, from two hundred yards' interval between yourself -and Fritz, down to fifty yards. It affects every moment of your life, -and every mortal thing you do. More, it actually affects what you say. -You don't make any telephonic arrangements about patrols and that sort -of thing here. We are learning German at a great rate. But it was -very startling to our fellows the first night, when they found they -could hear voices in the enemy line. It seemed to bring Fritz and his -ingenious engines very close indeed. - -But already the men have begun to crack their little jokes about it, -and pretend to be careful about setting down a canteen of tea or a -bit of bread lest one of "them bloomin' sauer-krauters lean over and -pick it up before you can turn round--hungry blighters!" I confess I'm -conscious that the nearness represents a great deal of added nerve -strain; but, thank goodness, the men don't seem to feel it a bit. -They're just as jolly as ever. But it is mighty intimate and primitive, -you know. - -Imagine! The first thing I laid my hand on when I got into a crater on -our first night, after we'd bombed Fritz out of it, was the face of a -wounded Boche; and he bit my little finger to the bone, so that I had -to have it washed and dressed by the M.O. for fear of poisoning. It's -nothing; but I mention it as an instance of the savage primitiveness of -this life at close quarters with the Boche. - -There's simply no end to his dodgy tricks here. Three or four of 'em -will cry out for help from a crater--in English, you know--and pretend -to be our own men, wounded and unable to move, or Boches anxious to -give themselves up. And then, if anyone's soft enough to get over the -parapet to go and lend a hand, they open a hot fire, or wait till we -get very near and then bomb. We had verbal warnings in plenty from the -Company we relieved, but it's experience that teaches; and, whilst they -may not be brilliant tricksters--they're not,--our fellows will at all -events never allow the same trick to be worked off twice on us. - -By his fondness for all such petty tricks as these--and, of course, -they have dozens of dirtier ones than this--the Boche has rather shut -the door on chivalry. Given half a chance, the natural inclination of -our men is to wage war as they would play cricket--like sportsmen. -You've only to indicate to them that this or that is a rule of the -game--of any game--and they're on it at once. And if you indicated -nothing, of their own choice they'd always play roughly fair and -avoid the dirty trick by instinct. But the Boche washes all that out. -Generosity and decency strike him as simply foolishness. And you cannot -possibly treat him as a sportsman, because he'll do you down at every -turn if you do; and here in Petticoat Lane being done down doesn't only -mean losing your money. As a rule, you haven't any of that to lose. It -means--"going West for keeps"; that is, being killed. It's that sort of -thing that has made Petticoat Lane life savage and primitive; and the -fact that it's so close and intimate as to be pressing on you all round -all the time, that is what gives the additional nerve strain. - -It is, of course, a great place for little raids. The trenches are -so close that you're no sooner out of your own than you're on top of -theirs. And I take it as evidence of the moral superiority being on -this side of the line, that we see very much more of their trenches -than they ever see of ours. It is a great deal more difficult to repair -trenches here than it was when we were a couple of hundred yards away -from the enemy, because of the frequency of the oil-cans and bombs. The -consequence is that, from the point of view of the cover they give, -both our trenches and the Boches' are much inferior to those we had -before. But, curiously enough, we have some very decent dug-outs here, -deep and well protected. - -In fact, take it all round, we are not so badly off at all. And -"interesting" the place most certainly is. ("The Peacemaker" generally -means "dangerous" when he says "interesting.") There's something doing -in the strafing line pretty nearly all the time; and strafing is a -deal more interesting than navvying, pumping, and mud-shovelling. The -chances for little shows of one sort and another are more numerous here -than where we were before. We've tried one or two already, and when we -get back into the support line you shall have full particulars from -your somewhat tired but quite jolly - - "_Temporary Gentleman_." - - - - -THEY SAY---- - - -We were relieved in Petticoat Lane by "D" Company last night, and -took the place they'd held in the support line; "a corner of Heaven -itself," of course, after The Gut. And I have had a most luxurious and -delightful day to-day, out of trenches altogether. - -Our O.C. "the Peacemaker"--you do remember, don't you, that the -Officer Commanding the Battalion is the C.O., and the Officer -Commanding the Company the O.C.: saves confusion--is an awfully good -chap. He didn't say anything about it, but I feel sure he put me on my -job of to-day--chose me for it--because he thought it would be good for -me. He was ordered to send an officer to arrange about billets for the -Company in ---- ready for when we go out. Taffy's been a bit under the -weather in Petticoat Lane, and is able to get a rest here in support. -This meant rather more sticking to it for me in the front line, and, -as a matter of fact, I didn't get an hour's sleep while we were there. -We had little strafes going most of the time, and I was rather cheap -when we came out last night; bit shaky, you know; that's all. Two -Boche mines were exploded in The Gut while we were there; both with -extraordinarily little loss to us. But I was lifted out of the trench -by one of 'em; and I suppose these things do indirectly affect one a -bit, somehow, even when there is nothing to show for it; at all events, -when they are combined with shortage of sleep. - -Anyhow, I'm as right as ninepence to-night, and had a fine sleep after -midnight yesterday. And to-day, with "the Peacemaker's" horse for -company, I've been playing the country gentleman at large and fixing -up billets for the Company, and done pretty well for 'em, too. It was -something of a race between Grierson of "D" and myself for the best -officers' mess and sleeping quarters in ----; but Grierson hadn't much -chance, really. He hasn't even my smattering of French, and his O.C. -had not lent him a horse. - -The goodwife at the place I've got for ourselves is a torrential -talker, and in rounding up the boys and girls working on her farm she -shows a bit of a temper; but I'm certain she's a jolly capable manager, -and she has promised to cook for us, which will mean a fine change from -the batman's efforts in that line. Also the billets themselves are -good, those for the men being the best I've seen anywhere: dry as a -chip, and thoroughly sheltered from the wind. We shall be in clover for -our week out, especially as I think ---- is a bit too far back to admit -of our being on trench fatigues at all while out. - -I did enjoy the pottering about on my own, and the nearest firing -being three or four miles away all the time, made everything seem -so extraordinarily peaceful after the roaring racket and straining -watchfulness of Cut-Throat Alley; where one's eyes sort of ache from -trying to look all ways at once, and one's ears and head generally -get dead from the effort of recording the precise meaning of each -outstanding roar in the continuous din. Also I met two or three -interesting people, including the Town Major in ----. - -I had some grub about one o'clock in a big _estaminet_, almost a -restaurant, really; and it was most interesting, after the trenches, -to listen to the gossip and eat without feeling you had to look out -for anything. There are a number of French residents left in this -place, and this makes it different from the village we were last in, -just behind the line, where the inhabitants have left, and the place -is purely a camp, and partly in ruins at that. This place still has a -natural human sort of life of its own, you know. And there are women in -it, and a priest or two, and cows and sheep, and a town-crier, and that -sort of thing--something fascinatingly human about all that, though it -is within four miles of the firing line. - -The café was simply full of rumours and gossip. Military gossip is, -of course, taboo with strangers and civilians, and rightly, since one -cannot be sure who is and who is not a spy. But I suppose there's -no harm in it among people who can recognise each other's uniforms -and badges. Anyhow, I heard a lot to-day, which may or may not have -anything in it. - -The things that interested me most were things about our own bit -of front, and there were two definite reports about this. First, I -heard that we are to throw out a new front-line trench to bridge -the re-entrant south of Petticoat Lane. And then I heard we are to -make a push to collar the Boche front line on the bend opposite us, -because a few hundred yards of line there would mean a lot to us in -the straightening of our front generally, and in washing out what is -undoubtedly a strong corner for the Boche now, because it gives him -some fine enfilading positions. If this were brought off it would wash -out The Gut altogether as firing line, and that in itself would be a -godsend. Also it would mean a real push, which is naturally what we -all want. We think the fact of that extra Division having been fitted -into our line rather endorses the report, and are feeling rather -bucked in consequence. The whole Battalion, and for that matter the -whole Division, is just spoiling for the chance of a push, and I doubt -whether we've a man who wouldn't volunteer for the front line of the -push at this moment, and jolly glad of the chance. - -I said in my last letter that I'd tell you about our little strafing -stunts while we were in Petticoat Lane. But, really, this new prospect -of a push and the report about the new front-line trench to be cut make -them seem pretty small beer, and quite a long way off now, anyhow. You -remember I told you there was a startling difference between the left -of our present sector and the right of the one we were in before. It -wasn't only the difference between clay and sand, you know. It was -that, whereas the right of the old sector was hundreds of yards away -from the Boche--as much as six and seven hundred in parts--the left of -the present sector runs down to sixty or seventy yards where it joins -Petticoat Lane. - -That means a big re-entrant in the line, of course, and a part -where our front runs almost at right angles to Fritz's, instead of -parallel with it. The new trench would be to bridge the mouth of -this re-entrant, and equalise the distance between our line and the -Boche's, right along. Apart from anything else, it would make any -subsequent push much easier. It's a low-lying, wet, exposed bit, that -re-entrant; but this wouldn't matter if we were just going to use it as -a jumping-off place, which is what we hope. - -However, as there's no official news, one mustn't think too much about -it. - -It seems there's been some sickness at our Brigade Headquarters, -which is a château marked large on the map, though out of sight from -the Boche line. The sickness among the orderlies was attributed to -something queer about the drains, and I suppose the thing was reported -on. Anyhow, as the story I heard to-day goes, a tremendous swell -arrived in a car to have a look at the place; an Olympian of the first -water, you understand. No doubt I should be executed by means of -something with boiling oil in it if I mentioned his name. As he stepped -from his car outside the château two shells landed, one on the lawn and -one in the shrubbery. The Olympian sniffed at Fritz's insolence. Before -he got into the doorway another shell landed very near his car, and -spattered it with mud from bonnet to differential. The august one is -reported to have greeted the Brigadier by saying rather angrily: - -"This is obviously a most unhealthy spot, sir; most unhealthy. Ought -never to have been chosen." - -But a better yarn was the one a subaltern of the R.E. told me as I -was jogging back to the trenches. This was about the sector next but -one north of us. It seems a Boche 'plane was being chased by a British -'plane, and making heavy weather of it. The Englishman had perforated -the other fellow's wings very badly, and partly knocked out his engine, -too. Anyhow, the Boche 'plane was underdog, and descending rapidly -midway between our front line and his own, right over the centre of No -Man's Land. Naturally the men in the trenches on both sides were wildly -excited about it. The story is they forgot everything else and were -simply lining the parapets, yelling encouragement to their respective -airmen as though they had front seats at Brooklands or the Naval and -Military Tournament. Seeing this, a pawky old Scot--it was a Highland -regiment on our side--slipped quietly down on the fire-step in the -midst of the excitement, and began making accurate but leisurely target -practice; carefully picking out Boches forty or fifty yards apart from -each other, so as not to give the show away too soon. He did pretty -well, but was bitterly disappointed when the Boche's Archibald forced -our 'plane to rise, just as the Boche airman managed to jigger his -machine somehow into his own support lines, and the spectators took -cover. - -"Och, no a'thegither sae badly, surr," says Scotty to his Platoon -Commander. "Ah managed to get nine o' the feckless bodies; but Ah hopet -for the roond dizen!" - -Rather nice, wasn't it? - -Those little shows of ours in Cut-Throat Alley were practically all -bombing, you know; but we did rather well in the matter of prisoners -taken in the craters, and of Boches otherwise accounted for. Our own -casualties for the four days were two killed--both in my Platoon, -and both men with wives at home, I grieve to say; thundering good -chaps--and six wounded; two only slightly. We reckon to have got twenty -or thirty Boches wounded, and at least ten killed; and there is no sort -of reckoning needed about the eleven prisoners we certainly did take in -the craters and sent blindfolded down to Headquarters. I believe this -beats the record of the Company we relieved, which, of course, knew the -place better; and our C.O. is pleased with us. I have to go now and -tell off a small carrying party. Though feeling a bit shaky yesterday, -I'm as right as right can be again now, so mind, you have no earthly -reason to worry about your - - "_Temporary Gentleman_." - -P.S.--"The Peacemaker" has just got word from Battalion Headquarters -itself that it's perfectly correct about the new front-line trench to -be cut; and it is believed "A" Company is to have something to do with -it. So that's real news; and we feel sure it means a push to come. -Everybody very cock-a-hoop. - - - - -THE NEW FRONT LINE - - -A turn out, a turn in, and now we're out again, and barring three Field -Service post cards, I believe all that time has gone without my writing -to you. You must try to forgive me. I can assure you things have been -happening. There hasn't been much idle time. When I last wrote we -had only begun to talk about the new front trench, hadn't we? Things -certainly have hummed since then. - -The first move was a tour of inspection and survey of the proposed -new line, by the O.C. of our Field Coy. of R.E., with some other -officers. Somewhat to my surprise--I suppose he really ought not to -expose himself to that extent--our C.O. accompanied this party. The -next night, when the pegs were driven in, definitely marking the whole -new line, the O.C.R.E. allowed me to go with him. The new line, as we -marked it out, was 760 yards long; from down near The Gut right across -to what used to be our centre, cutting off the whole big re-entrant and -equalising the whole sector's distance from the Boche. - -The next day our C.O. sent for O.C. Companies, and "the Peacemaker" -took me along when he went, as I'd been over the ground, and he guessed -the pow-wow would be about the new trench. The C.O. told us all about -it, and what the ideas of the authorities were. He said it was the sort -of job which might possibly prove costly in lives. But it had got to -be done, and he was of opinion that if everyone concerned made up his -mind never for a moment to relax the care and watchfulness he would -use in the first half-hour, the job might be done with comparatively -few casualties. He talked longer than he generally does, and I think -he felt what he said a good deal. He said he never expected to have -one moment's anxiety as to the bearing of any officer, N.C.O., or man -of the Battalion in the face of danger. He knew very well we were -all right on that score. But what he did want to impress upon us, as -officers, was that our duty went a good deal beyond that. - -"I know very well that none of you would ever show fear," he said; -"and I think you are satisfied that your N.C.O.'s and men will never -fail you in that respect. But, remember, your greatest asset is the -confidence the men have in you. Never do anything to endanger that. If -you use all the care and judgment you can, and if each one of your men -understands exactly what the job before him is, and your influence is -such as to prevent anyone from losing his head, no matter what happens, -then the casualty list will be low. Every casualty you prevent on a job -like this is as good as an enemy casualty gained. When we have to lose -our men, let us lose them fighting, as they themselves would choose to -go down if go down they must. But in this job of the new trench, we pit -our wits and our coolness and discipline and efficiency against those -of the Boche; and it's your job to see to it that the work is carried -through at the minimum cost in man-power." - -He said other things, of course, but that was the gist of it, and I -think we were all impressed. He's a martinet all right, is our C.O.; -and, as you know, his tongue is a two-edged sword. He's as stern a man -as I ever knew; but, by Gad! he's just, and, above and before all else, -he is so emphatically a man. - -Well, the upshot of our plans was that "A" Company was to provide the -covering party and be responsible for the tactical aspect of the show, -and "C" Company--all miners and farm workers--with one Platoon of "D," -was to do the digging, for a start, anyhow. The R.E. were to run the -wire entanglement right along the front of the new line, and this was -to be the first operation. It was obvious that as much as possible must -be done during the first night, since, once he had seen the job, as he -would directly daylight came, the Boche might be relied on to make that -line tolerably uncomfortable for anyone working near it without cover. - -While we were out of trenches that week our fellows were pretty busy -during the first half of each night carrying material up to the front -line. There was a good number of miles of barbed wire to go up, with -hundreds of iron screw standards for the wire, and hundreds more of -stakes; a lot of material altogether, and I am bound to say I think the -R.E. arranged it very well. They had all their material so put together -and stowed up at the front as to make for the maximum of convenience -and the minimum of delay when they came to handle it in the open and -under fire--as men always must be when doing anything in No Man's Land. - -Our men were bursting with swank over the Company's being chosen to -act as covering party; delighted to think that what they regarded as -the combatant side of the show was theirs. Indeed, I rather think -a lot of 'em made up their minds that they were going to utilise -the opportunity of having a couple of hundred men out close to the -Boche trenches for a real strafe of the men in those trenches. "The -Peacemaker" had to get 'em together and talk very seriously and -straight about what our responsibilities were in this job. This was -necessary to make the beggars realise that ours was a defensive and not -an offensive stunt; in which success or failure depended mainly upon -our ability to be perfectly silent. - -"All the scrapping will come later," said "the Peacemaker." "We -mustn't invite one single bullet while we've a couple of hundred men -behind us using picks and shovels, and working against time to get -cover. If Boches come along our line, it will be our job to strafe 'em -with our naked fingers if we possibly can. The last thing we'll do will -be to fire a shot. And the one thing that must not happen, not in any -case at all--no, not if the whole Prussian Guard turns out--is for a -single Boche in any circumstances whatever to get through our line." - -And that was the basis on which we tackled the job. Of course, the -O.C. knew better than to try to handle his Company as a Company on -the night. Orders could only be given in whispers, you understand. As -a matter of fact, in all such work, as in night attacks, one must be -able to rely, not alone on Platoon Sergeants and senior N.C.O.'s, but -on Corporals and Section Commanders. And if they have not been trained -so that you can rely on their carrying out instructions exactly, one's -chances of success are pretty small. - -It was dark soon after five, and by a quarter to six we were moving -out into the open. One and two Platoons went out down Stinking Sap, -myself in command, and three and four Platoons went out from just a -little way above Petticoat Lane. I led my lot and "the Peacemaker" led -the other half-Company, the idea being that when he and I met we should -know that we were in our right position, and could stay there. We moved -with about three paces' interval between men, and kept three or four -connecting files out on our inside flank and a couple on the outer -flank; the business of the inside men being to steer us at an average -distance of forty paces to the front of the foremost line of pegs, -which was the line to be followed by the barbed-wire entanglements; the -line of the new trench itself being well inside that again. - -This meant that one flank of our line, just above Petticoat Lane, would -rest within 150 yards of the Boche front trench, and the other flank -about 225 yards. We had drilled the whole business very carefully into -the men themselves, as well as the Section Commanders and Sergeants. We -got out on our line without a sound; and then "the Peacemaker" made his -way back to Stinking Sap to report to Captain ----, of the R.E., that -we had taken on the duty of protection and were all ready for his men -to go ahead. He marched his carriers out then, stringing them out along -the whole line, and the whole of his Company set to work putting up the -screen of wire entanglements behind our line. - -This whole business has given me a lot of respect for the R.E.; -a respect which, I think, is pretty generally felt throughout the -Service. The way they planned and carried out that wiring job was fine. -No talk and no finicking once they were in the open; every last peg and -length of binding wire in its right place; sand-bags at hand to fold -over anything that needed hammering; every man told off in advance, -not just to make himself as generally useful as he could, but quite -definitely to screw in standards, or drive in stakes, or fix pegs, or -carry along the rolls of wire, or strain the stays, or lace in the -loose stuff, as the case might be. Every man knew precisely what his -particular part was, and went straight at it without a word to or from -anyone. - -Meanwhile, I was working carefully along from end to end of our line, -checking up the intervals, altering a man's position where necessary, -and making sure that all our men were properly in touch and keeping -their right line, watching out well and making no sound. Nobody in our -lot moved, except the officers. All the others lay perfectly still. We -kept moving up and down in front the whole time, except when flares -were up or machine-gun fire swept across our way, and then, of course, -we dropped as flat as we could. - -But no machine-gun spoke on that sector, not once while the wire was -going up. Before half-past seven "the Peacemaker" came along to me with -orders to lead my men off to Stinking Sap. The wiring was finished. -There had been a hundred and fifty men at it, and at that moment the -last of 'em was entering Stinking Sap--casualties, nil. - -"The Peacemaker" marched his half-Company round the end of the wire -above Petticoat Lane, and I took mine round the end in front of -Stinking Sap-head. Then we wheeled round to the rear of the new wire -entanglement and marched out again, immediately in rear of it, till -"the Peacemaker" and I met, as we had previously met in front. So we -took up our second and final position and got down to it exactly as we -had done in the first position. - -When the O.C. reported that we were in position, "C" Company marched -out, half from each end of the line, under their own officers, but with -the O.C.R.E. in command, and his officers helping. They were at three -yards' interval. There was a peg for every man, and the first operation -was for each man to dig a hole in which he could take cover. It had all -been thought out beforehand, and every man knew just what to do. Their -instructions were to dig as hard as ever they knew how, but silently, -till they got cover. All the sections were working against each other, -and the O.C. Company was giving prizes for the first, second, and third -sections, in order of priority, to get underground. - -We couldn't see them, of course, and had all the occupation we cared -for, thank you, in looking after our line. I was glad to find, too, -that we could only hear them when we listened. They were wonderfully -quiet. It's a wet clayey soil, and they had been carefully drilled -never to let one tool touch another. I am told they went at it like -tigers, and that the earth fairly flew from their shovels. In our line -there wasn't a sound, and every man's eyes were glued on his front. - -The evening had been amazingly quiet, nothing but desultory rifle fire, -and unusually little of that. At a quarter to nine a Boche machine-gun -dead opposite the centre of my half-Company began to traverse our -line--his real objective, of course, being, not our line, but the line -of trench, the old fire trench, in our rear. I know now that at that -moment the slowest of "C's" diggers was underground. That burst of fire -did not get a single man; not a scratch. - -A fine rain, very chilling, began to fall, and got less fine as time -went on. The wind rose a bit, too, and drove the rain in gusts in our -faces. By good luck it was coming from the Boche trenches. At half-past -ten they sent over ten or twelve whizz-bangs, all of which landed in -rear of our old front line, except two that hit its parapet. Rifle fire -was a little less desultory now, but nothing to write home about. They -gave us an occasional belt or two from their machine-guns, but our -men were lying flat, and the diggers were below ground, so there was -nothing to worry about in that. - -By half-past eleven I confess I was feeling deuced tired. One had been -creeping up and down the line for over five hours, you know; but it -wasn't that. One spends vitality; it somehow oozes out of you on such -a job. I never wanted anything in my life so much as I wanted to get -my half-Company through that job without casualties. And there was one -thing I wanted even more than that--to make absolutely certain that no -prowling Boche patrol got through my bit of the line. - -Down on our flank at The Gut there were half a dozen little bombing -shows between six and midnight, and one bigger scrap, when the Hun -exploded a mine and made a good try to occupy its crater, but, as we -learned next day, was hammered out of it after some pretty savage -hand-to-hand work. Farther away on the other flank the Boche artillery -was unusually busy, and, at intervals, sent over bursts of heavy stuff, -the opening salvoes of which rather jangled one's nerves. You see, "A" -Company could have been extinguished in a very few minutes had Boche -known enough to go about it in the right way. - -If only one enterprising Boche, working on his own--a sniper, -anybody,--without getting through our line just gets near enough to -make out that it is a line, and then gets back to his own trenches, -our little game will be up, I thought. It wasn't restful. The men were -getting pretty stiff, as you may guess, lying still in the wet hour -after hour. - -At half-past two "the Peacemaker" came along and whispered to me to -take my men in: "Finished for to-night." - -I wasn't sorry. I put my senior Sergeant on to lead, and myself brought -up the rear. I was, of course, the last to get into Stinking Sap, and -my Platoon Sergeant was waiting for me there to tell me that not one of -our men had a scratch, nor yet a single man of "C" Company. One man of -No. 3 Platoon, in "the Peacemaker's" half-Company, had a bullet through -his shoulder; a Blighty, and no more. And that was our record. - -But, look here, I absolutely must stop and censor some of the -Platoon's letters before turning in. I'll write again as soon as ever I -can and tell you the rest of it. But--a trench nearly 800 yards long, -wire entanglements in front--casualties, one man wounded! Nobody felt -much happier about it than your - - "_Temporary Gentleman_." - - - - -A GREAT NIGHT'S WORK - - -In my last letter I think I told you all about our first night's work -on the new trench; how it was cut, and the wire entanglements run out, -between six in the evening and half-past two in the morning; and the -casualty list just one man wounded! It may not seem much to you, but to -us it seemed almost miraculous. I think the powers that be would have -been quite pleased with us if we had managed it with, say, thirty or -forty casualties. - -Two and a half hours or so later, round about five o'clock, although -you would have thought we should all be pretty tired, as no doubt we -were (though not so tired, I fancy, as we mostly felt at midnight), -everyone was interested in turning out for the morning Stand-to. We -were all anxious to watch Mr. Boche's first glimpse of our night's -work; not that we could see the expression on the faces of the Germans -or hear their comments; but we could imagine a good deal of it, and -wanted to see just what happened, anyhow. - -A few sentry groups had been posted along the new line when we came -in from it at half-past two; but these were withdrawn at the first -glimmerings of coming dawn, since we could watch the front as closely -from the original fire-trench, and it was possible, of course, that -Fritz might just plaster the new line with shrap. and whizzes and so on -as soon as he clapped eyes on it. - -I was watching before the first greying of the dawn, from a sniper's -post pretty close to the Boche line down near the beginning of -Petticoat Lane. The first thing I made out in the Boche line, when the -light was still only very faint, was the head of a sentry raised well -above the parapet level, as he stared out at the nearest bit of our new -wire. I turned half round and grabbed a rifle from a man in the trench, -but the Boche had disappeared when I looked round again. Then the -idea struck me, "Perhaps he'll bring an officer to look; a sergeant, -anyhow." So I drew a very careful bead on that spot, and got my rifle -comfortably settled on a mud rest. - -Sure enough, in a couple of minutes that sentry's head bobbed up again -in the same spot. I held my fire, waiting, on the officer theory. And, -next moment, another head rose beside the sentry's, and came up a good -deal less cautiously. I won't swear to its being an officer because -I couldn't see well enough for that. But I think it very likely was. -Anyhow, I had him most perfectly covered when I fired, and they both -disappeared the instant I had fired, and never showed up again, so I am -certain I got the second one. He was visible down to about his third -tunic button, you see, and with a resting rifle, I don't think I could -miss at that range. It wasn't more than 120, if that; sights at zero, -of course. - -It really was rather thrilling, you know, that Stand-to. We had all -our machine-guns ready, and traversed Fritz's parapet very thoroughly. -Upon my word, in the fluster of that first daylight minute or two, with -the new wire under his nose, I believe Fritz thought we were going to -make a dawn attack. I never saw so many Boches expose themselves. As a -rule, they are a good deal better than we are in the matter of keeping -out of sight; they take far fewer chances. But they didn't seem able -to help looking this time, and our sniper did pretty well. So did the -machine-guns, I think; I don't see how they could have helped it. - -Then Boche got his machine-guns to work, and poured thousands of -rounds all along our front--a regular machine-gun bombardment, for -which he got precisely nothing at all, none of our people being -exposed. But can't you imagine the excitement in the Boche line? The -evening before they had seen our line exactly as usual. In the night -they had apparently heard and suspected nothing. And now, with the -first morning light, they saw a line of brand-new wire entanglement and -a new trench line, that must have looked most amazingly close to them, -and actually was in parts an advance of 400 yards from the old line. -And then the length of it, you know--just on 800 yards. It certainly -must have startled 'em. - -We quite thought they'd start lambasting Old Harry out of the new -line at any moment; but they didn't. I guess they had sense enough to -conclude that we had nobody out there. But during the forenoon Master -Boche registered on the new line at several points; about twenty rounds -of whizzes and H. E., just to encourage us with regard to our work for -that night, I suppose. And beyond that he didn't go--dignified silence, -you know. But I bet he was pretty mad to think of all he'd missed -during the night. In the afternoon Fritz sent a couple of 'planes up, -I dare say with cameras, to get a record of the new line. But our -Archibalds in the rear made it so hot for them I don't think they can -have got any snap-shots. - -When "A" Company filed out at six o'clock that night to take up -protective duty along the new wire, as before, while the new trench was -proceeded with, I think we might have been excused for feeling a bit -creepy. I can't say how the men felt, but I confess I had made up my -mind that my own chances of getting back were tolerably thin. One must -move about a good bit to do one's job properly, and keep touch with a -hundred men strung out over 300 yards of ground in pitch darkness. As a -matter of fact, it was barely dark when we filed out. We daren't leave -it a minute later, in case a strong Boche patrol should have worked -inside our line, and been waiting for the working party when it came -out with bombs. We simply had to be beforehand with 'em; and there was -no getting away from the fact that the Boche had had all day in which -to study this new line of ours and make his plans. I say I don't know -how our men were feeling. I do know they were cracking little jokes -themselves about it before we left the sap. - -"This way for motor ambulances!" "Change here for Blighty and the Rest -Cure!" "Where'll you have yours, matey?" I heard plenty of remarks like -that as I worked my way down Stinking Sap to get to the head of my lot -before we moved out. - -"You'll be all right," said one of mine to a "C" Company man as he -entered the sap. "Mister blooming Fritz can't get at you with 'A' -Company out in front, you take it from me. We'll twist his tail -properly if he does come." The "C" men were for digging again, you know. - -It's impossible for an officer to feel shaky, however slight his -experience, when he has men like ours to work with. - -It wasn't exactly a proper trench that "C" Company went to work in -that night. There were bits that were almost finished; and then, again, -there were other lengths where it was only a chain of holes, linked -together by bits a yard or two long, in which the surface had been -shifted, just to mark out the trace of the new line. But every man was -able to get into cover right away, even in the worst bits, because of -these holes, and then, being in a hole, his job was to cut his way -along into the next hole just as quick as his strength would allow -him. The trench was cut narrow, you know; not a quarter the width of -the old trenches we have occupied. This doesn't make for comfort in -getting to and fro; but it does give far safer cover from every kind of -projectile, and especially from the deadly shrap. and the slippy whizz. - -While "C" slogged away at making connection right through, we lay out -by the wire, as we had done the night before, and I crept up and down -our line. There was no rain, and the night was so quiet that we could -hear every little move among the diggers much more plainly than on -the night before. I wondered if the Boches could hear it. They sent -us little bursts of machine-gun fire now and again, such as they send -throughout every night; and there was the normal amount of rifle fire -and the normal number of flares and different kinds of lights going up -from the enemy lines. Our men all lay as still as mutton, and when the -lights rose near our way, or the M.G. fire came, I naturally kept very -still. - -Once I distinctly made out a figure moving very slowly and cautiously -outside the wire. I should like to have fired, and, better still, to -have been able to get quickly and silently through the wire and on to -that moving figure, getting to grips, as we did with that German sniper -not long since, without a sound. But there was no opening in the wire -near; and with regard to firing, my orders were not to draw fire by -expending a single round unnecessarily, and to fire only in defence. -What I did was to get the O.C.'s permission shortly afterwards to -take three men and patrol beyond the front of the wire. But we found -nothing. No doubt I had seen one member of a Boche observation patrol -on the prowl to find out what we were doing; and if only I could have -got him it would have been excellent. From that time on we kept a -continuous patrol going in front of the wire. - -Then came a salvo of four whizz-bangs, all landing fairly near the new -trench; three in rear of it, and one most infernally close in front of -us. I suppose we all told ourselves the ball was just about to begin. -But nothing happened for over an hour. Then came nine shells in quick -succession, one of which, on my left, robbed my half-Company of four -men, one killed and three wounded. The rest accomplished nothing. Then -silence again, followed by occasional bursts of M.G. and the usual sort -of rifle fire. Corporal Lane, of No. 2 Platoon, stopped a M.G. bullet -with his left shoulder, I regret to say, and one man in the trench--"C" -Company--was killed by a bullet through the head. - -With every little burst of fire, one braced oneself for the big strafe -that we naturally felt must come. It seemed the Boche was playing with -us as a cat plays with a mouse. "I wonder what devilry he's got up his -sleeve?" We probably all asked ourselves that question fifty times. - -At two o'clock there wasn't a break anywhere in the new line. It was a -connected trench throughout, and nowhere less than six feet deep, with -two communicating trenches leading back to our original front line. -At three o'clock the word came along that the working party had been -withdrawn, and that I was to take my men in. As before, we left a few -sentry groups, to be relieved at dawn by fresh sentries, since the new -line was now to be guarded by day and manned by night. - -And that was the end of it. I got my men safely in. Half an hour -later the Boche sent over another ten or dozen shells on the new line, -and once again before dawn he did the same, with the usual periodical -bursts of M.G. fire and dropping rifle fire during the rest of the -time. And nothing more. Wasn't it extraordinary, when he had had a -whole day to think about it, and must have known we should be at work -there that night? Possibly, however, in his crafty way, he assumed we -should not go near the new line that second night for fear of strafing, -and held his hand for that reason. And, possibly, our General assumed -he'd think that, and acted accordingly. But there it is. We got our -work done at next to no cost. - -I was going to tell you about the rumours as to our push to straighten -out the line, but my time's up. That will have to wait for my next -letter. We are having an easy time now, but there were no free minutes -last week. You'll hear again soon, from your - - "_Temporary Gentleman_." - - - - -THE COMING PUSH - - -You are quite right in saying that I don't feel much interest in -political affairs at home these days. The fact is, we do not often -see the newspapers, and when we see them there isn't much time for -really reading them or giving much consideration to what they say. The -war news is interesting, of course; but all this endless talky-talky -business, why, I can hardly tell you how queerly it strikes us out -here. You see, we are very close to concrete realities all the time, -and to us it seems the talky-talky people are most amazingly remote -from realities of any kind. They seem to us to be very much interested -in shadows, notions, fads, fancies, and considerations of interests -which we think were washed out of existence at the very beginning of -the war. They even seem able to strive mightily and quarrel virulently -over the discussion of the principles and abstractions involved in -things they propose to do when the war is over! - -M-m-m-m-m-m! Seems to us the thing is to get it over, and in the -right way. No, we are not much interested in the political situation. -The tangible actualities of the situation out here seem to us very -pressing; pressing enough to demand all the energies and all the -attention; every atom of the strength of all the people of the British -race; without any wastage over more remote things, abstractions, things -_ante_ and _post bellum_. Here in France I can assure you men, women, -and children are all alike in that they have no life outside the -war. Every thought, every act, everything is in and for the war. The -realities are very close here. - -One thing in that last letter of yours especially pleases me. "We have -now got to the point in England at which all the people of both sexes -who are worth their salt are busy at war work of one kind or another." - -That's excellent. Well, now rope in the ones who are not "worth their -salt." You'll find they're all right, once they're roped in. I don't -believe in this idea of some people not being worth their salt; not in -England, anyhow. The stock is too good. You know the type of hoodlum -who, with licks of hair plastered over his forehead, seems to spend his -days leaning against a lamp-post. The fellow I mean has a perfectly -beastly habit of spitting over everything in sight; when riding on top -of a 'bus, for instance. Despised by decent men, he's a real terror to -decent women. Same type, I suppose, as the Apache of Paris. Every big -city breeds 'em. - -Well, all I want to tell you about this gentleman is, never to run -away with the notion that he can't be worth his salt. All he needs is -to be taught the meaning of authority. It's only a matter of months; -even weeks. With my own eyes I have watched the process at work. -Nobody will ever again be able to delude me about it. In a country -like ours there are no people "not worth their salt." The worst type -of man we've got only needs a few months in a Battalion like ours, -during the training period, to learn the meaning of authority, and, by -means of discipline, to have his latent manhood developed. It's there -all right. Only he'll never develop it of his own accord. Authority -must be brought to bear. The Army method is the quickest and best. In -a few months it makes these fellows men, and thundering good men at -that. Worth their salt! They're worth their weight in--well, to take -something real and good, say in 'baccy and cartridges--real men and -real fighters. - -Out here in billets, we get a deal more information about things -generally than ever reaches us in the line. All the rumours come our -way, and among 'em, here and there, I dare say, hints of the truth. -We know that out there in the new trench we cut no dug-outs are being -made. There's no evidence of any intention to inhabit that new front -line. It is just fully manned by night and held by a few sentry groups -in the day. (It's a deuce of a job getting along it by night when it's -full of men. Being kept so narrow, for safety's sake, there are not -many places where you can pass men, so you have to get along somehow -over their heads or between their legs. Oh, it's great going on a wet -night!) And this, in our eyes, is proof positive of the truth of the -rumour which says we are to use it almost immediately as a jumping-off -place, in a push designed to strengthen and straighten our front line -by cutting off that diabolical corner of the Boche line opposite The -Gut; to wash out The Gut, in fact, altogether, putting it behind our -front line, with all its blood-soaked craters. - -I don't think I ought to write much about it, though I suppose the -Censor won't mind so long as I mention no places or names to indicate -the part of the front we're on. But, in effect, if we can take several -hundred yards of Boche trenches here, the gain to us, apart altogether -from strategic considerations, will be equivalent to at least a mile. -It's much more than just that, really, because it means getting a very -advantageous and commanding position in exchange for a very exposed and -deadly one, depriving Boche of a great advantage and gaining a great -advantage for ourselves. Even the lesser of the two possible schemes, -concerning less than 200 yards of Boche front, would give us all that. -But the general opinion seems to be that we are to tackle the larger -scheme, involving the seizure of a good mile or more of Boche front. We -all think we know, and we none of us know anything, really. - -But I must clear out. We have a new issue of improved gas-helmets, -and I've got to see to dishing 'em out. Then every man will have two -anti-gas helmets and one pair of anti-lachrymatory gas goggles. We are -also renewing our emergency, or "iron," ration--and that all looks like -a push, and is therefore exhilarating. - - * * * * * - - _Later._ - -Great and glorious news! The push is a fact. I mustn't say which day, -and, just in case this letter fell into wrong hands, I think I'll hold -it back, and not post just yet. The main thing is we are to push; -and we are jolly well going to wipe out that Boche corner. It is the -lesser of the two schemes--a local affair pure and simple, so I suppose -you'll learn next to nothing about it from dispatches. You know our -British way in the matter of official dispatches. The British have no -shop window at all. One ought to be glad of it, I suppose. Ours is -the safer, better, more dignified way, no doubt, and certainly never -raises hopes doomed to possible disappointment. At the back of my mind -I approve it all right. (Which should be comforting to the G.O.C. in -C.) But, as touching ourselves, one cannot help wishing the dispatches -would give you news of our show. Of course they won't. - -"The night was quiet on the remainder of the Front." "Some elements -of trenches changed hands in the neighbourhood of ----, the advantage -being with us." That's the sort of thing. At least, I hope it'll read -that way. It will, if "A" Company can make it so. - -I'm particularly glad we had that turn in Petticoat Lane, you know. -Now that I think we shall never occupy it again as a front line--by -the time you get this, please the pigs, it'll be well behind our front -line, and we'll be snugly over the rise where the Boche now shelters--I -don't mind admitting to you that it's a heart-breaking bit of line. -There's no solid foothold anywhere in it, and there's next to no real -cover. It's a vile bit of trench, which we never should have occupied -if we'd had any choice in those early days when the Boche first dug -himself in opposite, and the French, having no alternative, scratched -in here. For our sins we know every inch of it now, and, thanks to good -glasses and long hours of study, I think I know the opposite lines -pretty well--the lines I hope we shall be in. - -Our fellows are queer, you know. Perhaps I've told you. Any kind of -suffering and hardship they have to endure they invariably chalk up to -the account against Mr. Boche. There's a big black mark against him for -our spell in Petticoat Lane, and, by Jupiter! he'll find he'll have -to pay for every mortal thing our chaps suffered there; every spoiled -or missed meal; even lost boots, sore feet, and all such details. Our -chaps make jokes about these things, and, if they're bad enough, make -believe they almost enjoy them while they last. But every bit of it -goes down in the account against Fritz; and if "A" Company gets the -chance to be after him, by Gad! he'll have to skip! He really will. - -I'm not going to risk giving away military information by telling you -any more now. It will all be over, and Cut-Throat Alley will be behind -us when next I write. And, understand, you are not to worry in the -least bit about me, because I promise you I'll get through. I should -know if I were not going to; at least, I think I should. But I feel -perfectly certain we shall bring this thing off all right anyhow; and -so, even if I did chance to go down, you wouldn't grieve about that, -would you? because you'd know that's the way any fellow would like -to go down, with his Company bringing it off; and, mind you, a thing -that's going to make a world of difference to all the hundreds of good -chaps who will hold this sector of the front before the war's over. - -We've got a mighty lot to wipe out in this little push. It isn't only -such scraps of discomfort as we suffered, nor yet the few men we lost -there. But, French and British, month in and month out, for many a long -day and night, we've been using up good men and true in that bloody, -shell-torn corner. Why, there's not a yard of its churned-up soil that -French and English men haven't suffered on. We've all that to wipe out; -all that, and a deal more that I can't tell you about. I'll only tell -you that I mean to get through it all right. Every man in the Battalion -means real business--just as much as any of the chaps who fought under -Nelson and Wellington, believe me. So, whatever you do, be under no -sort of anxiety about your - - "_Temporary Gentleman_." - - -P.S.--Seeing that you and I, and all our lot, never have known -anything about military matters before this war came, I think it may -interest you, as it interests me, to know that I have never seen the -Company as a whole jollier, or in higher spirits than it is with this -job before it; and, do you know, I never felt happier myself, never. I -feel this makes it worth while to be alive and fit; more worth while -than it ever was in civil life before the war. - - - - -FRONT LINE TO HOSPITAL - - -Perhaps this address will be quite a shock to you if you know what -it means. So I hasten to say that I am perfectly all right, really. -"Clearing Station"--perhaps that won't have the ominous look to you -that "Hospital" would, though it means the same thing. But the point -is, I am all right. I told you I'd get through, and I have. The fact -that I'm lying in bed here--in luxurious comfort--is only an incident. -I am quite safe and perfectly all right. - -They tell me here that directly an officer is wounded information to -that effect is sent home to his people. Well, I hope you will get this -word from me first, and accept my assurance that there's nothing to -worry about. These good folk here will put me as right as ninepence in -no time, and I hope very shortly to be back with the Company and in the -new line. - -It was shrapnel, you know, and got me in the left leg and a bit in the -right arm just when I was most wanting the use of both of 'em. I hope -they haven't told you I'm going to lose my leg or anything, because I'm -not. The surgeon here--a first-rate chap and a splendid surgeon--has -told me all about it, and my leg will very soon be as good as ever. - -This is just a line to let you know I am perfectly all right. I'll -write and tell you all about it to-morrow. - -I wonder whether the dispatches will have told you anything. The push -was splendid. We've got that corner, and The Gut is well behind our -front line now. - - * * * * * - -My letter of yesterday will have assured you that I am all right; -nothing at all to worry about. I meant to have written you fully to-day -about the push. But we've been busy. The surgeon's been cleaning me -up--getting rid of useless souvenirs, you know; and it seems I'm better -keeping pretty still and quiet to-day. Shall be out and about all the -quicker, you see. This is a perfectly heavenly place, where you don't -hear a vestige of gun-fire, and everything is sweet and clean, quiet -and easy; no responsibility, no anything but comfort and ease. What a -luxurious loaf I'm having! I'll write to-morrow. - - * * * * * - -I'm going ahead like a house afire; but so confoundedly lazy, you'd -hardly believe it. I suppose this pencil will be legible, though -it hardly looks it to me. As I say, I'm too lazy for words; simply -wallowing in comfort and cleanliness. Thought I would just pencil a -line now, so that you would know I was perfectly all right and then I -can write properly to-morrow. - - * * * * * - -Another lazy day. I really ought to be at work, you know, so well -and fit I am. But I just laze in this delightful bed, and watch the -busy orderlies and sisters flitting to and fro, as though I were in -a dream and other folk had to do all the world's work. The good old -"Peacemaker" has come in to see me, and is writing this for me; chiefly -because of my laziness, and partly that I like to spare you the work of -deciphering the hieroglyphics I make with my left hand. The right arm -is pretty good, you know, but it seems I'll get it entirely sound again -rather quicker by not using it just now; and it's rather jolly to have -one's O.C. Company working for one in this way. - -He says that while I was about it I was a duffer not to get a real -Blighty, and so have a holiday and come and see you all. As a fact, -I've no doubt he's profoundly grateful that he will not be robbed of my -invaluable services for long. "A" Company was relieved last night by a -Company of the ----; in our new trenches, you know; the trenches that -used to belong to Mister Boche; so our fellows are having a bit of a -rest, I'm glad to say. Not the luxurious rest I'm having, of course; -but something to be going on with. - -I meant to tell you a whole lot of things, but for the laziness that -makes me so greedy for naps and dozes. Also, they say visitors have -to leave now, and "the Peacemaker" has a good way to ride. I'll write -properly to-morrow. Meantime "the Peacemaker" is good enough to say he -will write you to-night particulars as to how I got my scratches; so I -won't ask him to write any more now. He will carry this on himself when -he gets back to-night--while I laze and sleep. - - * * * * * - -As promised, I am adding a few lines to this for our good friend. I -have not yet told him, but as a fact I am the only unwounded officer -in "A" Company at the moment, and we were relieved last night in order -that we might reorganise. Lieutenant Morgan--"Taffy"--was killed, I -grieve to say, in the beginning of the advance, and our casualties for -the Company were thirty-two killed and seventy-eight wounded. It's a -terrible price, of course, but you will understand that a big loss was -inevitable in our Company, when I tell you that we not only led the -advance, but led it from the notorious Petticoat Lane, where the front -is extraordinarily difficult to cross. We were very proud to be chosen -for the lead, and compared with the net gain for the line, our loss is -small, really. Indeed, if the entire casualties in the whole advance -are weighed up against the position won, I believe I am right in saying -that the cost was remarkably low. The gain in the line is immense, and -there is not the smallest chance of the Boches taking it back again. -Although our bombardment knocked his trenches about pretty badly--they -were very strong trenches indeed, to begin with, very strongly placed -and favourably situated--since our occupation we have worked day and -night to make of the corner practically a fortified position, and one -from which we can punish the Boche pretty severely on both flanks. I -think this gain will lead to other gains before long in this sector. -Our information is that the Boche casualties were very heavy. However, -I did not mean to run on like this with regard to the military aspect. -It is our friend you will want to hear about. - -Now, in the first place, I should like to be allowed to say what -you perhaps have guessed: that he is a very fine and a very valuable -officer. I am not a bad judge, not only because I command his Company, -but because, unlike himself, I am not quite without military knowledge -of the kind that came before the war, having a good many years behind -me of service as a Volunteer, and then as a Territorial, down to -within seven months of the beginning of the war when I joined this -Service Battalion. And I have no hesitation in saying that our friend -is a fine and valuable officer. I know that a big share of any credit -due for the fine training and discipline of our Company--which is, I -think, admitted to be the crack Company of the best Battalion in the -Brigade--is due, not to me, but to the Commander of our No. 1 Platoon. -It is a very great loss to me to have him laid aside now; but I am so -thankful his life is spared that I have no regret to waste over his -being wounded. But I do very sincerely hope that he will be able to -return to us, to the reorganised "A" Company, for I have never met an -officer I would sooner have beside me. The men of the Platoon, and, -indeed, of the whole Company, are devoted to him; and I regard it as -little short of marvellous that in so comparatively short a time a man -who had never had even the slightest hint of military training should -have been able to become, all round, so efficient, so well posted -technically, and, above all, so confident and absolutely so successful -a leader of men. For that has been his greatest asset: that his men -will go anywhere with him, do anything for him, trust him without the -slightest reserve or doubt. - -You know more about his character than I do, but I venture to say that -the character you know has been wonderfully developed by the war and by -his military training. He may have been the most lovable of men before, -but I cannot believe that he was anything like so strong a man or so -able a man. Confidence, fearlessness, decisiveness--strength, in fact; -these qualities, I am sure, have developed greatly in him since he -joined. I sometimes think there is nothing more wonderful in all this -wonderful period of the war than the amazing development it has brought -in the thousands of young Englishmen who now are capable and efficient -officers, loved and trusted by their men, and as able in every way as -any officers the British Army ever had, although the great majority of -them have no military tradition behind them, and before August, 1914, -had no military training. That is wonderful, and I am convinced that -no other race or nation in the wide world could have produced the same -thing. The men, fine as they are, might have been produced elsewhere, -or something like them. But this apparently inexhaustible supply of -fine and efficient officers--no, I think not. - -The newspapers will have told you something of our little push, and I -will not trouble you with any technical detail. We advanced over a very -narrow front after a short but intense bombardment. Our friend led the -right half of "A" because I did not want to rob his own Platoon of his -immediate influence. His is No. 1. The pace was hot, despite the torn -and treacherous nature of the ground. The right half did even better -than my half, and stormed the first Boche line with extraordinary dash -and vigour. It seemed as though nothing could stop their impetuosity; -and in the midst of the tremendous din I caught little waves of their -shouting more than once. - -Our friend had crossed the first line, and successfully led his men to -the very edge of the second line, shouting to his men to join him in -taking it, when the shell burst that brought him down. The same shell -must have laid some Boches low, if that is any consolation. Not that we -need any consolation. I feel sure you will agree with me in that. - -But I want to tell you that the wounds in the right arm--not serious, -I am thankful to say--were not from the same shell. They came in the -neighbourhood of the first Boche line. That same right arm (after it -was wounded), carrying a loaded stick, knocked up a Boche bayonet that -was due to reach the chest of a man in No. 1 Platoon and then served to -support the same man on the parapet of the Boche trench--he was already -wounded--for a few moments till a stretcher-bearer got him. It was not -possible for our friend to stay with him, of course. A few seconds -later he was leading his men full pelt towards the second line; and all -that after his first wound. I thought you would like to know that. Our -C.O. knows it, and I venture to hope it will find mention in dispatches. - -And now with regard to his condition. Whilst he is not quite so -forward as he thinks--there is, of course, no question of his coming -back to duty in a few days, as he fancies--there is, I think, no -cause whatever for anxiety. In fact, the M.O. at the Clearing Station -assured me of so much. His general health is excellent; nothing septic -has intervened; it is simply a question of a little time. The worst -that is likely to happen is that the left leg may be permanently a -shade shorter than the right, and it is hoped this may be averted. His -Company--all that is left of us--will be very sincerely glad to see him -back again. Meantime we rejoice, as I am sure you will, in the manner, -the distinction, of his fall, in the certainty of his enjoying the rest -he has earned so well, and in the prospect of his recovery. - - - - -THE PUSH AND AFTER - - -The Battalion being now out of the line, the O.C. Company has kindly -sent my batman along to me here--you remember my batman, Lawson, on -Salisbury Plain--and he is writing this for me, so that I can preserve -my present perfect laziness. I point this out by way of accounting -for the superior neatness of the handwriting, after my illegible -scrawls. Lawson was a clerk at ----'s works before the war, and, as you -perceive, has a top-hole "hand of write." - -I got rather a fright, as I lay dreaming here, half awake and half -asleep, at six o'clock this morning. An orderly came along with a blue -ticket and a big safety-pin, like those the Highlanders use in their -petticoats, and pinned his label on the bottom of my counterpane. - -"Hallo!" says I; "what's this? Are they putting me up for sale?" - -Mentally, I began to describe myself for the catalogue. (How strong -are the habits of civil life!) "One full-size, extra heavy Temporary -Officer and Gentleman; right arm and left leg slightly chipped, the -whole a little shop-worn, but otherwise as new. Will be sold absolutely -without reserve to make room for new stock." (They have to keep as many -beds as possible vacant in Clearing Stations, you know.) - -The orderly just grinned and faded away like the Cheshire cat. A Sister -came along shortly afterwards, and I asked her the meaning of my blue -label. - -"Oh! that," she said, very casually, "that's the evacuation card." - -I am to be evacuated, like a pulverised trench, a redoubt that has -become useless or untenable. Jolly, isn't it? Seriously, I was a good -deal worried about this, until I had seen the M.O., because I had an -idea that once one was evacuated out of the Divisional area, one was -automatically struck off the strength of one's unit, in which case, -goodness knows when, if ever, I should see my own "A" Company again. -But the M.O. tells me it's all right, so long as one remains in France. -One is only struck off on leaving France, and when that happens one can -never be sure which Battalion of the Regiment one will return to. So -there's nothing to worry about. It's only that these Clearing Stations -have to keep plenty of vacant accommodation ready for cases fresh out -of the line; and so fellows like me, who are supposed to require a bit -more patching up than can be given in two or three days, have to be -evacuated to one or other of the base hospitals. Hence the label, which -makes of your Temporary Gentleman an "evacuation case." - -It's uncertain when I shall be moved, or to which base, so I cannot -give you a new address for letters. The generosity, the kindness, the -skill, and the unwearying attentiveness and consideration shown one -in this place could not possibly be improved on; but their official -reticence in the matter of giving one any information regarding one's -insignificant self, future movements, and so on, can only be described -as godlike. I shall always associate it in my mind with a smile of -ineffable benevolence (also rather godlike), as who should say, with -inexhaustible patience, "There, there, my little man; there, there." -And that's all. Perhaps it's good for us, taken, as medicine must be, -with childlike trust and faith. We must hope so. - -Come to think of it, there is a hint in the gentle air of this -place--never torn by shot or shell, or penetrated by even the faintest -odour of defunct Boches in No Man's Land--of a general conspiracy -of reticence. It has infected mine own hitherto trusted batman (who -presumes to chuckle as he writes these lines at my dictation), -whose professed ignorance, regarding most points upon which I have -this morning sought information, suggests that I have in the past -consistently overrated his intelligence and general competence. It is -clearly very desirable that I should get back to my Platoon as soon as -possible. - -Lying here at mine ease, I think a great deal; but of the quality -of my thinking I fear there is little to be said that is favourable. -Perhaps the medicine I take so trustfully has contained some of the -soporific stuff of dreams, and that is why the pain in my leg has been -so trifling since the first day here. I feel my thoughts stirring in -my mind; but they move in a swaying, dreamy fashion, as though they -were floating in, say golden syrup, and were not really interested -in getting out of it. I wanted to tell you all about our push, but, -do you know, though it was not very many days ago, it seems already -extraordinarily remote, so far as the details are concerned, and I am -hazy as to what I have told you and what I have not told. - -One thing stands out so clearly in my otherwise treacly mind that I -feel I never, never shall forget it; and that is the sensation of -the moment when the order reached us to advance. We had been a long -time waiting for it, even before our bombardment began, and when it -came-- But, although the sensation is very clear to me, I'm not at all -sure I can convey any idea of it to you. I've just asked Lawson what he -felt like when it came; but the conspiracy of reticence, or something, -leads him to say he doesn't know. I found myself muttering something at -the moment, and he says he did, too. That's something of a coincidence. -He believes the actual words he muttered were: "What ho!" But that's -not exactly illuminating, is it? - -I believe my thought, as we scrambled over the parapet was that now, -at last, we were going to wipe Petticoat Lane off the map as a front -line. Good-bye to this hole! That was the idea, I think. We did so hate -that bit of line, with its quicksand craters in front, and the sodden -lowness that made it a sort of pocket for the receipt of every kind of -explosive the Boche liked to lob in on us. - -The struggle through the craters, before we got to the first Boche -line, was pretty beastly, and, I am afraid, cost us rather dear, -although we got to the near lip of the craters before the punishment -began, thanks to a quick start and the fine accuracy of our gunners -in their curtain fire. You know the sort of thing that happens in -nightmares, when each of your feet weighs a ton and a half, at the -moment when speed is the only thing to save you from the most hideous -kind of spiflication. Getting through the craters was like that. - -Our good time began when the craters were passed, and there was -nothing but Boche trenches in front of us. Then it was we began to -feel the jolly feelings you've read about; the glorious exhilaration -of the charge. And, really, it wouldn't be possible to exaggerate -about that. You can take it from me that the most highly coloured -chromo-lithographs can't overdo that, in the essential spirit of the -thing. Their detail is pretty groggy, of course--no waving plumes, -gay colours, flashing swords, and polished top-boots, you know. My -goodness, no! We were all the colour of the foul clay we'd come -from--all over. But the spirit of it! It's perfectly hopeless for me -to try to tell you, especially in a letter. They say they pump spirits -and drugs into the Boches before they leave their trenches. No drug -and no champagne, even of the choicest, could have given us any more -exhilaration, I fancy, than one felt in that dash from the craters to -the first Boche line. Heavens! but it was the real thing; real, real, -real; that's what it was, more than anything else. Made you feel you'd -never been really and fully alive till then. Seven-leagued boots, and -all that kind of thing, you know. The earth seemed to fly under your -feet. I can see the dirty, earth-smeared faces in that Boche trench -now. (They were scuffling and scrambling out from the dug-outs, where -they'd sheltered from our bombardment, to their fire-steps.) They -seemed of no more importance than so many Aunt Sallies or Dutch dolls. -Things like that to stop _us_! Absurd! - -And how one whooped! I was fairly screaming "'A' Company!" at the very -top of my voice as we jumped into that trench. The man on my left was -Corporal Slade (Lance-Sergeant, I should say) and, as we reached their -parapet I could hear him yelling beside my ear, through all the roar of -the guns: "Hell! Give 'em hell! Give 'em hell, boys!" Most outrageous! - -In the trench it was a sort of a football scrum glorified; oh! very -much glorified. Most curiously, the thing passing through my mind -then was "the Peacemaker's" old gag, apropos of the use of his trench -dagger, you know: "When you hear that cough, you can pass on to the -next Boche. Get him in the right place, and three inches of the steel -will do. Don't waste time over any more." Queer wasn't it? - -Galloping across the next stretch--by the way, it was the very devil -getting out over the Boche parados, so high and shaly. A fellow grabbed -my right ankle when I was half-way up; the very thing I'd always -dreaded in dreams of the trenches, and, by Gad! if I didn't kick out -you must let me know about it. I'd sooner have had a bayonet thrust -any day than the ram of my field boot that chap got in his face. The -next stretch, to the Boche second line, yes! The champagney feeling was -stronger than ever then, because one felt that front line was smashed. -Sort of crossing the Rhine, you know. One was on German soil, so to -say. My hat, what scores to pay! - -And mixed up with the splendid feeling of the charge itself--by long -odds the finest feel I ever had in my life--there was a queer, worrying -little thought, too. I knew some of our men were dropping, and-- "Damn -it, I ought to be doing something to save those chaps." That was -the thought. It kind of stung; sort of feeling I ought to have some -knowledge I had failed to acquire. They're your men, you ought to know. -That sort of feeling. But I don't think it slowed one's stride at all. -The champagne feeling was the main thing. I was absolutely certain we -were bringing it off all right. The Boche guns were real enough; but -their men didn't seem to me to count. - -Queer thing about the wire in front of that second line. It wasn't -anything like so good or extensive as front-line wire, and I dare say -our guns had knocked a good deal of the stuffing out of it. Still, -there was a lot left, more than I expected for a second line. Do you -know, "A" Company went through it as though it had been paper. It was a -glorious thing that. You know how gingerly one approaches barbed wire -or anything like that; a thorn hedge, if you like. And you've seen how -fellows going into the sea to bathe, at low tide, will gallop through -the rows of little wavelets where the water's shallow; feet going high -and arms waving, the men themselves whooping for the fun of the thing. -That's exactly how our chaps went through that wire. I'll guarantee -nobody felt a scratch from it. And yet my breeches and tunic were in -ribbons from the waist down when I got to the field ambulance, and from -the waist to the knee I'll carry the pattern of that wire for some time -to come. Might have been swan's-down for all we knew about it. - -And then, unfortunately, on the parapet of the second line I got my -little dose, and was laid out. Goodness knows, that shell certainly -laid out some Boches as well as me. I'll say this for 'em, they met us -on the parapet all right. But "A" Company's business was urgent. We -had scores to settle from Petticoat Lane and other choice spots; and -the Kaiser's got no one who could stop us. I do wish I could have seen -it through. I know they tried hard to counter us out of that line. But -they couldn't shift old "A," who did just as well when I dropped out -as before--the beggars! Lawson tells me I was yelling like a madman on -that parapet for some time before I went to sleep, you know: "I'll be -there in a minute!"--there in a minute! How absurd! - -Next thing I knew I was being lifted out of a trench stretcher, right -away back at Battalion Headquarters in the old support line. Then -the good old Batt'n M.O. prodded around me for a bit, and gave me a -cigarette, I remember. I remember hearing him say: "Oh! well, _you're_ -all right." And then I must have had another doze. - -Next thing I remember I was lying in a right-hand lower stretcher -in a motor ambulance, and soon after that I was in bed in the Field -Ambulance at ----. The same night I came on here, the Field Ambulance -being pretty busy and full up. It's only a few miles off. I know there -was snow all round when I was being lifted out of the motor ambulance -into the hall here. - -And then comfort, and cleanliness and quiet; most wonderful peace, and -English nursing sisters. My goodness, aren't English nursing sisters -lovely? English women, all of 'em, for that matter. And they say there -are still some men at home who don't want to join! Seems queer to me. - -Well, Lawson is rapidly developing writer's cramp, and I don't wonder -at it. - -And so I'm to move on somewhere else soon from here. In any case, you -understand, don't you, that I'm all right, wanting for nothing, and -most kindly looked after. I'll write again very soon, and whatever you -do, don't have the smallest feeling of anxiety about your - - "_Temporary Gentleman_." - - - - -BLIGHTY - - -This is to be evacuation day. A dozen officers and nearly a hundred -other ranks are to leave this place to-day for one or other of the -bases. The life of a permanent official in one of these Clearing -Stations must be curious, handling as he does a never-ending stream -of the flotsam and jetsam of the great war. The war knocks chips off -us, and as we are broken we stream in through the hospitable portals -of this beautifully organised and managed place; are put in plaster of -Paris, so to say, and off we go again to another place to be further -doctored; the more newly chipped arriving by one gate, as we go -trickling out by another. And this process is continuous. Along the -British front alone a score or more of men are bowled over every hour. -In a place like this the process is brought home to one. - -So, too, is the ordered precision and efficacy of the system of -dealing with the wreckage. It is wonderfully methodical and well -thought out. And over all, as I told you before, broods the spirit of -benevolent reticence, which makes one feel a little like a registered -parcel entrusted to a particularly efficient postal service. "When are -we going?" Benevolent smile. "Presently; presently." "What base are we -going to?" Benevolent smile. "You'll see by and by." "About how long -shall we be on the journey?" Benevolent smile. "Oh! you'll be made -quite comfortable on the journey. Don't worry about that." "Well, I'm -very much better this morning, don't you think?" Benevolent smile. "Do -you think I shall be able to sit up in a day or two?" Benevolent smile. -"We shall see." - -So it is always. I dare say the thirst of patients for information -often becomes very trying to the authorities. But they never in any -circumstances show any impatience. They never omit the benevolent -smile. And they never, never, for one instant, relax the policy of -benevolent reticence; never. The man next to me is very keen about his -temperature; it is, I believe, the chief symptom of his particular -trouble. But the bland familiar smile is all the reply he can ever -get to his most crafty efforts to ascertain if it is higher or lower. -I haven't the slightest doubt it is all part of a carefully devised -policy making for our benefit; but I wouldn't mind betting the man in -the next bed sends his temperature up by means of his quite fruitless -efforts to ascertain that it has gone down. - - * * * * * - - _Later._ - -Here's another strange handwriting for you. The present writer is -Lieut. R----, whose left arm has had a lot more shrap. through it -than my right got, and who has kindly lent me the services of his -right. My left-handed writing is still, as you will have noted, a -bit too suggestive of a cryptogram in Chinese. We are lying opposite -one another in very comfortable bunks in the Red Cross train, making -from ---- to a base, we don't yet know which. There are nearly 500 -"evacuation cases" on board this train. Its progress is leisurely, but -I believe we are to reach our destination round about breakfast time -to-morrow. We found books and magazines in the train when we came on -board. That's a kindly thought, isn't it? They bear the stamp of the -Camps Library. The doctors and nurses get round among us on the train -just as freely as in hospital. The whole thing is a triumph of good -management. - -While we were lying in our stretchers waiting for the train, having -arrived at the station in motor ambulances from the Clearing Station, -we saw miles of trains pass laden with every conceivable sort of -thing for the French firing line; from troops to tin-tacks; a sort of -departmental store on wheels; an unending cinematograph film, which -took over an hour to roll past us, and showed no sign of ending then. -All the French troops, with their cigarettes and their chocolate, had -kindly, jovial greetings for the stretchered rows of our chaps as we -lay in our blankets on the platform waiting for our train, especially -the jolly, rollicking Zouaves. Good luck, and a pleasant rest; quick -recovery, and--as I understand it--return to the making of glory, -they wished us, and all with an obviously comradely sincerity and -play of facial expression, hands and shoulders, which made nothing of -difference of language. And our chaps, much more clumsily, but with -equal goodwill, did their level best to respond. I think the spirit -of their replies was understood. Yes, I feel sure of that. The war's -a devastating business, no doubt; but it has introduced a spirit of -comradeship between French and English such as peace could never give. - - * * * * * - - _Next morning._ - -You will forgive the left-handedness of the writing, won't you? My -friend opposite has had a good deal of pain during the night, and I -cannot ask him to write for me now. It was a strange night, and I don't -think I'll ever forget it, though there's really nothing to tell; -"Nothing to write home about," as the men say. I didn't sleep much, -but I had quite a comfortable night, all the same, and plenty to think -about. When the train lay still between stations, as it sometimes -did, I could hear snatches of talk from different parts of the train -itself--doctors, nurses, orderlies, patients, railway officials, and so -on. Then perhaps another train would rumble along and halt near us, and -there would be talk between people of the two trains: French, English, -and the queer jumble of a patois that the coming together of the twain -in war has evolved. Also, there was the English which remains English, -its speaker not having a word of any other tongue, but which yet, on -the face of it, somehow, tells one it is addressed to someone who must -understand it from its tone or not at all. - -"Oh, that's it, is it? Cigarettes? You bet. Here, catch, old chap! -Bong, très bong Woodbine. What ho! Same to you, old chap, an' many -of 'em. Yes, yes; we'll soon be back again, an' then we'll give the -blighters what for, eh? Chocolate, eh? Oh, mercy, mercy! No, no; no -more; we got plenty grub; much pang, savvy. You're a brick, you are. -You bong, très bong; compree? Hallo! Off again! Well, so long, old -sport! Good luck! Bong charnce! See ye 'gain some time! Bong sworr!" - -There's a poor chap in the bunk under mine who's been delirious most -of the night. He looks such a child. A second lieutenant of the ----s; -badly shaken up in a mine explosion, and bombed afterwards. The M.O. -says he'll get through all right. He's for Blighty, no doubt. Odd, -isn't it? This time to-morrow he may be in England, or mighty near it. -England--what an extraordinary long way off it seems to me. There have -been some happenings in my life since I was in England; and as for the -chap I was before the war, upon my word, I can hardly remember the -fellow. Pretty sloppy, wasn't he? Seems to me I must have been a good -deal of a slacker; hadn't had much to do with real things then. - -We know at last where we're bound for; in fact, we're there. The train -has been backing and filling through the streets of the outskirts of -Havre for the last half-hour or more. But last evening, when I was -writing, we could only ascertain that we were going to ----. Benevolent -smiles, you know. - -It's frightfully interesting to see the streets. I see them through the -little narrow flap at the top of my window that's meant to open. It -seems quite odd to see women walking to and fro; and row after row of -roofs and windows, all unbroken. No signs of shell-shock here. But on -the other side of the train, nearest the harbour, one sees acres and -acres of war material; I mean really acres and acres of rations, barbed -wire, stores of all kinds. - -There's a sort of bustle going on in the train. I think we must be near -the end, so I'll put my notebook away. - - * * * * * - - 10.45 A.M. - -We are in what they call the Officers' Huts, on some quay or another. -It's a miniature hospital or clearing station, built of wood, and very -nicely fitted up. Sitting-room at one end, then beds, and then baths -and cooking-place and offices; all bright and shining and beautifully -clean, with Red Cross nurses, doctors, orderlies, and no end of -benevolent smiles. They've taken our temperatures and fixed us up very -comfortably, and somebody's started a gramophone, and I've just had a -cup of the glutinous, milky stuff I used to hate, you remember. I don't -hate such things nowadays; not really, you know; but I pretend I don't -care much about 'em for the sake of the virtuous glow it gives to take -'em. - -Everyone has asked everyone else where we are going next, and everyone -has been given benevolent smiles and subsided into a Camps Library -magazine or book. The sitting-up cases are pottering about in the -sitting-room, where there are basket chairs and the gramophone. I can -see them through the open door. The nurses have fixed jolly little -curtains and things about, so that the place looks very homely. I -gather it's a sort of rest-house, or waiting-place, where cases can be -put, and stay put, till arrangements have been made for their admission -into the big hospitals, or wherever they are to go. We have all been -separately examined by the Medical Officer. My arm is so much better, I -think it must be practically well. I don't know about the leg. I asked -the M.O.--an awfully decent chap--to try to arrange things for me so -that I should not be cut adrift from my own Battalion, and he said he -thought that would be all right. - - * * * * * - - 3.30 P.M. - -I'm for Blighty. The M.O. came and sat on my bed just now and told -me. He certainly is a decent chap. He said the Medical Board had no -hesitation at all about my case, and that I was to cross to England -to-night. But he said I need not worry about my Battalion. He was -awfully good about it; and he's giving me a letter to a brother of his -in London. He thinks I shall be able to get back to my own Battalion -all right, and he thinks I shall be ready for duty much quicker by -going right through to Blighty than by waiting here. But what do you -think of it? Fancy going to Blighty; and to-night, mind you! I'd -never dreamt of it. And what about poor old "A" Company? It's a queer -feeling. We've all been sorted out now; the goats from the sheep. I -suppose it's a case of the worst-chipped crockery for Blighty, and the -rest for tinkering here. But I can't help thinking a week, or two, at -the outside, will put me right.... Here come Army Forms to be signed. - - * * * * * - - 9.30 P.M. - -In bed on board the Red Cross ship. All spotless white enamel and -electric light, and spotlessly-aproned nurses, just as in hospital. -I've just been dressed for the night; clean bandages and everything -comfortable. From the last benevolent smile I elicited I shouldn't -be surprised if we weighed anchor round about midnight; but I may be -quite wrong. Anyhow, I feel remarkably comfortable. I think there must -have been something specially comforting in the medicine I had when -my bandages were changed. I shall sleep like a top. I don't think -I've quite got the hang yet of the fact that I am actually bound for -Blighty. But there it is; I'm on the ship, and I suppose it's on the -cards I may see you before this scribble of mine can reach you by post. -In which case, it seems rather waste of time writing at all, doesn't -it? I think I'll go to sleep. I haven't slept since the night before -last. That boy I told you of who was bombed, after being in a mine -explosion, is sleeping like an infant in the next cot but one to mine. -Nice-looking chap. I'm glad he's sleeping; and I bet somebody will be -glad to see him in Blighty to-morrow. To-morrow! Just fancy that! - - * * * * * - - _Next day._ - -To-day's the day. When I woke this morning I had glimpses, as the ship -rose and fell, of a green shore showing through the portholes on the -far side of the deck. That was the Isle of Wight. Had a magnificent -sleep all night; only opened my eyes two or three times. We were rather -a long time getting in. Then came Medical Officers of the Home Service; -and with surprisingly few benevolent smiles--not that they lack -benevolence, at all--I learned that I was for London. It hardly seemed -worth while to write any more, and I could not get off the ship to send -a wire. - -Now I am in a Red Cross division of an express train bound for -Waterloo. I'll send you a wire from there when I know what hospital -I am for. Shan't know that till we reach Waterloo. Meantime--that's -Winchester we've just passed. Old England looks just the same. There -is a little snow lying on the high ground round Winchester. It looks -the same--yes, in a way; and in another way it never will look just the -same again to me. Never just the same, I think. It will always mean a -jolly lot more to me than it ever did before. Perhaps I'll be able to -tell you about that when we meet. I find I can't write it. Queer thing, -isn't it, that just seeing these fields from the windows of a train -should bring the water to one's eyes? Very queer! One kind of sees it -all through a picture of the trenches, you know. - -"The Old Peacemaker" didn't tell me, but I know now that nearly half -"A" Company are casualties; and there's a good many "gone West." Poor -Taffy's gone. Such a clever lad, Taffy. My Platoon won't be quite -the same again, will it? Platoon Sergeant, one other Sergeant, two -Corporals, and a lot of men gone. We were in front, you see. Oh! I know -there's nothing to grieve about, really. Petticoat Lane's behind our -front now, thank goodness. That'll save many a good man from "going -West" between now and the end of the war. - -I'm not grieving, but it makes a difference, just as England is -different. Everything must be different now. It can't be the same -again, ever, after one's been in the trenches. If Germany wants to -boast, she can boast that she's altered the world for us. She certainly -has. It can never be the same again. But I think it will be found, by -and by, she has altered it in a way she never meant. Of course, I don't -know anything much about it; just the little bit in one's own Brigade, -you know. But it does seem to me, from the little I've seen, that where -Germany meant to break us, she has made us infinitely stronger than we -were before. Look at our fellows! Each one is three times the man he -was before the war. The words "fighting for England" had next to no -meaning for me before August, 1914. But now! that's why these fields -look different, why England can never again look the same to me as it -did before. I know now that this England is part of me, or I'm part -of it. I know the meaning of England, and I swear I never did before. -Why, you know, the very earth of it--well, when I think how the Boche -has torn and ravaged all before him over there, and then think of our -England, of what the Hun would do here, if he got half a chance.... -It's as though England were one's mother, and some swine were to---- - -But it's no good. I can't write about it. I'll try to tell you. But, -do you know, it wasn't till I saw these fields that the notion came -over me that I'm sort of proud and glad to have these blessed wounds; -glad to have been knocked about a bit. I wonder whether you and Mother -will be glad, too; I somehow think you will--for your - - "_Temporary Gentleman_." - - -THE END - - - - - _A Selection from the_ - _Catalogue of_ - - G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS - - Complete Catalogues sent - on application - - - - - - FIRST CALL - - GUIDE POSTS TO BERLIN - - BY - ARTHUR GUY EMPEY - - - - _Author of "OVER THE TOP"_ - - _12°. Illustrated. $1.50 (By mail, $1.65)_ - -In the amazingly vivid and simple way that has made =Over the Top= the -most widely read and talked of book in America, and the most successful -war book in all history, Empey tells the new soldiers - - What they want to know - What they ought to know - What they'll have to know - -and what their parents, sweethearts, wives, and all Americans, will -want to know, and can do to help. - -A practical book by an American who has been through it all. - -The chapters headed "Smokes" and "Thank God the Stretcher Bearers" will -stand among the war classics. - -Here is advice, here are suggestions, overlooked in other books, that -will safeguard our boys in France. - - - G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS - New York London - - * * * * * - - - - - _IT IS THE REAL STUFF_ - - OVER THE TOP - - BY AN AMERICAN SOLDIER WHO WENT - - ARTHUR GUY EMPEY - MACHINE GUNNER, SERVING IN FRANCE - - _AUTHOR OF_ - "_FIRST CALL_" - -For a year and a half, until he fell wounded in No Man's Land, this -American soldier saw more actual fighting and real warfare than any war -correspondent who has written about the war. His experiences are grim, -but they are thrilling and lightened by a touch of humor as original as -the Soldiers Three. And they are true. - - _12°. 16 Illustrations and Diagrams. $1.50 net._ - _By mail, $1.65_ - - - TOGETHER WITH TOMMY'S DICTIONARY OF THE - TRENCHES - - "_Over The Top with the Best of_ - _Luck and Give Them Hell!_" - - _The British Soldier's War Cry, as he goes over the_ - _top of the trench to the charge_ - - * * * * * - - - - - By Bruce Bairnsfather - - - "=A War Lord of Laughter=."--_The Literary Digest._ - - Fragments from - France - - Author of - - "Bullets & Billets" - - _8°. 143 Plates. 15 Small Illustrations_ - _$1.75 net. By mail, $1.90_ - -Captain Bruce Bairnsfather's sketches set all England chuckling, -when they first appeared in the _Bystander_, and they have met with -as hearty a welcome by Americans who have had the luck to see them. -Greatest of all commendation, German prisoners have been known to -become hilarious over these indescribable pictures of life in the -trenches, and war-fed "Tommys" roar over them. Now, with their amusing -captions, they have been gathered into one volume. - -These pictures have won in England for the author the title "The man -who made the Empire laugh," and caused the _Literary Digest_ to refer -to him as "A War Lord of Laughter." They are all war pictures, but -calculated to take a deal of the bitterness out of war. - - * * * * * - - - - - Bullets & Billets - - By - - Bruce Bairnsfather - - Author of "Fragments from France" - -_12°. 18 Full-page and 23 Text Illustrations. $1.50 By mail, $1.60_ - - -"'Bill,' 'Bert,' and 'Alf' have turned up again. Captain Bairnsfather -has written a book--a rollicking and yet serious book--about himself -and them, describing the joys and sorrows of his first six months in -the trenches. His writing is like his drawing. It suggests a masculine, -reckless, devil-may-care character and a workmanlike soldier. -Throughout the book he is as cheerful as a schoolboy in a disagreeable -football match."--_London Evening News._ - - G. P. Putnam's Sons - New York London - - - - -Transcriber's Note: - -Minor typographical errors have been corrected without note. Other -errors are noted below. - -- Changed typo on pg. 2: "out" > "our" ("with out regimental - hound pacing in front") -- Removed extraneous comma pg. 23 ("opposite, our Battalion - Headquarters.") - -Ambiguous hyphens at the ends of lines were retained. - -Word combinations that appeared with and without hyphens were changed -to the predominant form if it could be determined, or to the hyphenated -form if it could not. - -Italicized words are surrounded by underline characters, -_like this_. Words in bold characters are surrounded by equal signs, -=like this=. Underlined text in advertisements not marked up. - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Temporary Gentleman in France, by -A. J. (Alec John) Dawson - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A TEMPORARY GENTLEMAN IN FRANCE *** - -***** This file should be named 50247-8.txt or 50247-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/0/2/4/50247/ - -Produced by GÃsli Valgeirsson, Richard Hulse and the -Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net -(This file was produced from images generously made -available by The Internet Archive) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this -eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook -for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks -not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the -trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you - are located before using this ebook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to -date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - diff --git a/old/50247-8.zip b/old/50247-8.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 242e5ef..0000000 --- a/old/50247-8.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/50247-h.zip b/old/50247-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 4ea6fc7..0000000 --- a/old/50247-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/50247-h/50247-h.htm b/old/50247-h/50247-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index 5aab033..0000000 --- a/old/50247-h/50247-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8615 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" -"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" xml:lang="en" lang="en"> - <head> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=iso-8859-1" /> - <meta http-equiv="Content-Style-Type" content="text/css" /> - <title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of A "Temporary Gentleman" in France, by by A. J. Dawson. - </title> - <link rel="coverpage" href="images/cover.jpg" /> - <style type="text/css"> - - body { - margin-left: 10%; - margin-right: 10%; - } - - h1,h2 { - text-align: center; /* all headings centered */ - clear: both; - } - - .center - { - text-align: center; - } - - .spaced {line-height: 1.5;} - - .space-above{ margin-top: 3em;} - - p { - margin-top: .51em; - text-align: justify; - margin-bottom: .49em; - } - - hr.tb {width: 45%;} - hr.chap {width: 65%} - - table { - margin-left: auto; - margin-right: auto; - } - - .pagenum { /* uncomment the next line for invisible page numbers */ - /* visibility: hidden; */ - position: absolute; - left: 92%; - font-size: smaller; - text-align: right; - } /* page numbers */ - - .box { border-style:double; margin-bottom:2em; max-width:25em; margin-right:auto; margin-left:auto; margin-top:2em; } - .box p { margin-right:1em; margin-left:1em; } - - .ph2, .ph3, .ph4 { text-align: center; text-indent: 0em; font-weight: bold; } - .ph2 { font-size: x-large; margin: .75em auto; } - .ph3 { font-size: large; margin: .83em auto; } - .ph4 { font-size: medium; margin: 1.12em auto; } - - .center {text-align: center;} - - .ucenter {text-align: center; - text-decoration: underline;} - - .right {text-align: right;} - - .smcap {font-variant: small-caps;} - - .u {text-decoration: underline;} - - /* Images */ - .figcenter { - margin: auto; - - text-align: center; - - } - - table.toc { - margin: auto; - width:auto; - max-width: 40em; - } - td.cht { - text-align: left; - vertical-align: top; - padding-left: 1em; - text-indent: -1em; - } - td.pag { - text-align: right; - vertical-align: bottom; - padding-left: 2em; - } - - .break-before { - page-break-before: always; - } - - div.chapter {page-break-before: always;} - h2.nobreak {page-break-before: avoid;} - - /* Transcriber's notes */ - .transnote {background-color: #E6E6FA; - color: black; - font-size:smaller; - padding:0.5em; - margin-bottom:5em; - font-family:sans-serif, serif; } - </style> - </head> - <body> - - -<pre> - -The Project Gutenberg EBook of A Temporary Gentleman in France, by -A. J. (Alec John) Dawson - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: A Temporary Gentleman in France - -Author: A. J. (Alec John) Dawson - -Release Date: October 18, 2015 [EBook #50247] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A TEMPORARY GENTLEMAN IN FRANCE *** - - - - -Produced by Gísli Valgeirsson, Richard Hulse and the -Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net -(This file was produced from images generously made -available by The Internet Archive) - - - - - - -</pre> - - <div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/cover.jpg" width="520" alt="Front Cover" /> - </div> - <hr class="chap" /> - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_i" id="Page_i">[Pg i]</a></span></p> - - <h1 title="A Temporary Gentleman in France">A<br /> - "Temporary Gentleman"<br /> - in France</h1> - <p class="ph2">Home Letters from an Officer at - the Front</p> - - <p class="center spaced space-above">With Introductory Chapters by<br /> - <big>Captain A. J. Dawson</big><br /> - Border Regiment (British Forces)</p> - - <div class="figcenter"> - <img src="images/rosetta.jpg" width="5%" - alt="Rosetta" /> - </div> - - <p class="center spaced space-above"><big>G. P. Putnam's Sons</big><br /> - - New York and London<br /> - <b>The Knickerbocker Press</b><br /> - 1918</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ii" id="Page_ii">[Pg ii]</a></span></p> - - <p class="center"><span class="smcap">Copyright</span>, 1918</p> - - <p class="center">BY</p> - - <p class="center">G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS</p> - - <p class="center space-above"><strong>The Knickerbocker Press, New York</strong></p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - - <div class="chapter"> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_iii" id="Page_iii">[Pg iii]</a></span></p> - <h2 class="nobreak"><a name="PUBLISHERS_NOTE" id="PUBLISHERS_NOTE"></a>PUBLISHERS' NOTE</h2></div> - - <p>Permission has been given by the British War - Office for the publication of this series of Letters - written by a Temporary Officer of the New Army. - No alteration has been made in the Letters to - prepare them for the Press beyond the deleting or - changing, for obvious reasons, of certain names - used.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">[Pg v]</a></span></p> - <div class="chapter"> - - <h2 class="nobreak"><a name="BY_WAY_OF_INTRODUCTION" id="BY_WAY_OF_INTRODUCTION"></a>BY WAY OF INTRODUCTION</h2> - </div> - - <p>The writer has introduced this "Temporary - Gentleman" to many good fellows in England, - France, and Flanders, and is very anxious to introduce - him on a really friendly footing to all his - brothers-in-arms across the Atlantic; from New - York to San Francisco, and from Quebec to Vancouver - Island, also. But how best to do it? It - really is no very easy matter, this, to present one - simple, very human unit of the New Armies, to a - hundred millions of people.</p> - - <p>"Dear America: Herewith please find one - slightly damaged but wholly decent 'Temporary - Gentleman' who you will find repays consideration."</p> - - <p>I think that is strictly true, and though, in a - way, it covers the ground, it does not, somehow, - seem wholly adequate; and I have an uncomfortable - feeling that the critics might find in it ground - for severe comments. But it is just what I mean; - and I would be well content that all the kindly<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">[Pg vi]</a></span> - men and women of America should just find out - about this "Temporary Gentleman" for themselves, - and form their own opinion, rather than - that I should set down things about him in advance. - If these letters of his do not commend - him to America's heart and judgment, I am - very sure no words of mine would stand any chance - of doing so. Yes, for my part, warmly anxious - as I am for America to know him, and to feel - towards him as folk do in France and Flanders - and Britain, I am perfectly prepared to let him - stand or fall upon his own letters, which certainly - discover the man to you, whatever you may - think of him.</p> - - <p>Withal, in case it may interest any among the - millions of American families from which some - member has gone out to train and to fight, to - save the Allied democracies of the world from - being over-ridden by the murderous aggression - of its remaining autocracies, I take pleasure in - testifying here to the fact that among the officers - now serving in Britain's New Armies (as among - those who, whilst serving, have passed to their - long rest) are very many thousands who are just - for all the world like the writer of these letters. - I have watched and spoken with whole cadet-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">[Pg vii]</a></span>training - battalions of them, seen them march past - in column of fours, chins well up, arms aswing, - eyes front, and hearts beating high with glad - determination and pride—just because their - chance has nearly come for doing precisely what - the writer of these letters did: for treading the - exact track he blazed, away back there in 1915; - for the right to offer the same sort of effort he - made, for God and King and Country; to guard - the Right, and avenge the Wrong, and to shield - Christendom and its liberties from a menace more - deadly than any that the world's admitted barbarians - and heathens ever offered.</p> - - <p>I know there are very many thousands of them - who are just like this particular "Temporary - Gentleman,"—even as there must be many - thousands of his like in America,—because there - have been so many among those with whom I have - lived and worked and fought, in the trenches. - And it does seem to me, after study of the letters, - that this statement forms something of a tribute - to the spirit, the efficiency, and the devotion to - their duty, of the whole tribe of the Temporary - Officers.</p> - - <p>Their lost sense of humour (withered out of - existence, I take it, by the poison gas of Prussian<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">[Pg viii]</a></span> - <i>Kultur</i>) would seem to have made the German - nation literally incapable of forming an approximately - correct estimate of the capacities of any - people outside the confines of their own machine-made, - despotically ordered State, in which public - sentiment and opinion is manufactured from - "sealed pattern" recipes kept under lock and key - in Potsdam and the Wilhelmstrasse. Their blunders - in psychology since July, 1914, would have - formed an unparalleled comedy of errors, if they - had not, instead, produced a tragedy unequalled - in history. With regard to America alone, the - record of their mistakes and misreadings would - fill a stout volume. In the earlier days of the - War, I read many German statements which - purported (very solemnly) to prove:</p> - - <p>(<i>a</i>) That in the beginning of the War they - killed off all the British officers.</p> - - <p>(<i>b</i>) That the British officer material had long - since been exhausted.</p> - - <p>(<i>c</i>) That, since it was impossible for the - British to produce more officers, they could not - by any effort place a really big Army in the field.</p> - - <p>And the queer thing is that German machine-made - illusions are of cast-iron. They "stay - put"; permanently. During 1917 I read again<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">[Pg ix]</a></span> - precisely the same fatuous German statement - regarding America and her inability to produce - an army, that one read in 1914 and 1915 about - Britain. The British New Armies (which Germany - affirmed could never seriously count) have - succeeded in capturing nearly three times as many - prisoners as they have lost, and more than four - times as many guns. From 1916 onward they - steadily hammered back the greatest concentrations - of German military might that Hindenburg - could put up, and did not lose in the whole period - as much ground as they have won in a single day - from the Kaiser's legions. Yet still, in 1917, the - same ostrich-like German scribes, who vowed that - Britain could not put an army in the field because - they could never officer it, were repeating precisely - the same foolish talk about America and her - New Armies.</p> - - <p>Perhaps there is only one argument which - Germany is now really able to appreciate. That - argument has been pointedly, and very effectively, - presented for some time past by the writer of these - letters, and all his comrades. From this stage - onward, it will further be pressed home upon the - German by the armies of America, whose potentialities - he has laboriously professed to ridicule.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_x" id="Page_x">[Pg x]</a></span> - It is the argument of high explosive and cold - steel; the only argument capable of bringing ultimate - conviction to the Wilhelmstrasse that the - English-speaking peoples, though they may know - nothing of the goose-step, yet are not wont to cry - "Kamerad," or to offer surrender to any other - people on earth.</p> - - <p>I know very well that the writer of these letters - had no thought as he wrote—back there in 1916—of - any kind of argument or reply to Potsdamed - fantasies. But yet I would submit that, all - unwittingly, he has furnished in these letters (on - America's behalf, as well as Britain's) what should - prove for unprejudiced readers outside Germany - a singularly telling answer to the Boche's foolish - boasts of the Anglo-Saxon inability to produce - officers. As a correspondent in the Press recently - wrote: "Why, for generations past the English-speaking - peoples have been officering the world and - all its waters—especially its waters!" And so - they have, as all the world outside Germany - knows, from the Yukon to Tierra del Fuego; - from the Atlantic round through the Philippines to - the golden gate and back.</p> - - <p>It is a high sense of honour, horse sense, and - sportsmanship, in our Anglo-Saxon sense, that lie<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xi" id="Page_xi">[Pg xi]</a></span> - at the root of successful leadership. And one of - Prussia's craziest illusions was that with us, - these qualities were the sole monopoly of the men - who kept polo ponies and automobiles!</p> - - <p>Only the guns of the Allies and the steel of their - dauntless infantrymen can enlighten a people so - hopelessly deluded as the Germans of to-day. - But for the rest of the world I believe there is - much in this little collection of the frank, unstudied - writings of an average New Army officer, who, - prior to the War, was a clerk in a suburban office, - to show that sportsmanship and leadership are - qualities characteristic of every single division - of the Anglo-Saxon social systems; and that, - perhaps more readily than any other race, we can - produce from every class and every country in the - English-speaking half of the world, men who make - the finest possible kind of active service officers; - men who, though their commissions may be - "Temporary" and their names innocent of a - "von," or any other prefix, are not only fine - officers, but, permanently, and by nature, gentlemen - and sportsmen.</p> - - <p>Withal, it may be that I should be falling short - of complete fulfilment of a duty which I am glad - and proud to discharge, if I omitted to furnish<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xii" id="Page_xii">[Pg xii]</a></span> - any further information regarding the personality - of the writer of these letters. And so, if the reader - will excuse yet another page or two of wire entanglement - between himself and the actual trenches—the - letters, I mean—I will try to explain.</p> - - <p class="right"> - <span class="smcap">A. J. Dawson</span>,<br /> - <i>Captain</i>.<br /> - </p> - - <blockquote> - - <p><span class="smcap">London</span>, 1918.</p></blockquote> - - <hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xiii" id="Page_xiii">[Pg xiii]</a></span></p> - <div class="chapter"> - - <h2 class="nobreak"><a name="THE_GENESIS_OF_THE_TEMPORARY" id="THE_GENESIS_OF_THE_TEMPORARY"></a>THE GENESIS OF THE "TEMPORARY - GENTLEMAN"</h2></div> - - <p>In the case of the Service Battalion officer of - Britain's New Army who, with humorous modesty, - signs himself "Your 'Temporary Gentleman,'" - what is there behind that enigmatic signature that - his letters do not tell us? The first of these - homely epistles shows their writer arriving with - his Battalion in France; and the visit is evidently - his first to that fair land, since he writes: "I - wonder if I should ever have seen it had there - been no war!" That exclamation tells a good - deal.</p> - - <p>But of the man and his antecedents prior to that - moment of landing with his unit in France, the - letters tell us nothing; and if it be true that the - war has meant being "born again" for very many - Englishmen, that frequently quoted statement at - all events points to the enjoyment of some definite - status before the war.</p> - - <p>Inquiry in this particular case speedily brings<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xiv" id="Page_xiv">[Pg xiv]</a></span> - home to one the fact that one is investigating the - antecedents of a well-recognised New Army type, a - thoroughly representative type, as well as those of - an individual. In his antecedents, as in the revolutionary - development which the war has brought - to him, this "Temporary Gentleman" is clearly - one among very many thousands who have, so to - say, passed through the same crucibles, been submitted - to the same standard tests, and emerged - in the trenches of France and Flanders, in Gallipoli - and in Mesopotamia, in Africa, and in other places - in which the common enemy has endeavoured - to uphold his proposed substitution of <i>Kultur</i> for - civilisation, as we understand it.</p> - - <p>In the year 1896 there died, in a south-western - suburb of London, a builder and contractor in a - small, suburban way of business. An industrious, - striving, kindly, and honourable man, he had had a - number of different irons in the fire, as the saying - goes, and some of them, it may be, would have provided - a good reward for his industry if he had - lived. As the event proved, however, the winding-up - of his affairs produced for his widow a sum - representing no more than maintenance upon a - very modest scale of a period of perhaps three - years. The widow was not alone in the world.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xv" id="Page_xv">[Pg xv]</a></span> - She had a little daughter, aged five, and a sturdy - son, aged eight years. Nineteen years later that - boy, into whose youth and early training not - even the mention of anything military ever crept, - was writing letters home from fire trenches in - France, and signing them "Your 'Temporary - Gentleman.'"</p> - - <p>For seven years after his father's death the boy - attended a day school in Brixton. The tuition he - there received was probably inferior in many ways - to that which would have fallen to his lot in one of - the big establishments presided over by the County - Council. But his mother's severely straitened - circumstances had rather strengthened than lowered - her natural pride; and she preferred to enlarge - the sphere of her necessary sacrifices, and by the - practice of the extremest thrift and industry to - provide for the teaching of her two children at - private schools. The life of the fatherless little - family was necessarily a narrow one; its horizon - was severely restricted, but its respectability was - unimpeachable; and within the close-set walls of - the little Brixton home there never was seen any - trace of baseness, of coarseness, or of what is - called vulgarity. The boy grew up in an atmosphere - of reticence and modesty, in which the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xvi" id="Page_xvi">[Pg xvi]</a></span> - dominant factors were thrift, duty, conscientiousness, - and deep-rooted family affection.</p> - - <p>The first epoch of his fatherless life closed when - our "Temporary Gentleman" left school, at the - age of fifteen, and mounted a stool in the office of a - local auctioneer and estate agent, who, in the - previous decade, had had satisfactory business - dealings with the youth's father. This notable - event introduced some change into the quiet little - mother-ruled <i>ménage</i>; for, in a sense, it had to be - recognised that, with the bringing home of his - first week's pay, the boy threatened to become a - man. The patient mother was at once proud and - a little disconcerted. But, upon the whole, pride - ruled. The boy's mannishness, brought up as he - had been, did not take on any very disconcerting - shapes, though the first cigarette he produced in - the house, not very long after the conclusion of the - South African War, did prove something of a - disturbing element just at first.</p> - - <p>The South African War affected this little household, - perhaps, as much as it would have been - affected by a disastrous famine in China. It - came before the period at which the son of the - house started bringing home an evening newspaper, - and while the only periodicals to enter the home<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xvii" id="Page_xvii">[Pg xvii]</a></span> - were still <i>The Boy's Own Paper</i> and a weekly - journal concerned with dressmaking and patterns. - As a topic of conversation it was not mentioned - half a dozen times in that household from first to - last.</p> - - <p>The next really great event in the life of the - auctioneer's clerk was his purchase of a bicycle, - which, whilst catastrophic in its effect upon his - Post Office Savings Bank account, was in other - respects a source of great happiness to him. And - if it meant something of a wrench to his mother, as - a thing calculated to remove her boy a little farther - beyond the narrow confines of the sphere of her - exclusive domination, she never allowed a hint of - this to appear. Her son's admirable physique - had long been a source of considerable pride to - her; and she had wisely encouraged his assiduity - in the Polytechnic gymnasium of which he was a - valued supporter.</p> - - <p>For the youth himself, his bicycle gave him the - key of a new world, whilst robbing the cricket and - football clubs to which he belonged of a distinctly - useful member. He became an amateur of rural - topography, learned in all the highways and by-ways - of the southern Home Counties. His radius - may not have exceeded fifty miles, but yet his<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xviii" id="Page_xviii">[Pg xviii]</a></span> - bicycle interpreted England to him in a new light, - as something infinitely greater and more beautiful - than Brixton.</p> - - <p>Quietly, evenly, the years slid by. The boy became - a youth and the youth a man; and, in a - modest way, the man prospered, becoming the - most important person, next to its proprietor, - in the estate agent's business. The mother's life - became easier, and the sister (who had become a - school-teacher) owed many little comforts and - pleasures to the consistent kindliness of one who - now was admittedly the head of the little household - and its chief provider. He never gave a - thought to the State or felt the smallest kind of - interest in politics; yet his life was in no way - self-centred or selfish, but, on the contrary, one in - which the chief motive was the service of those - nearest and dearest to him. Whilst rarely looking - inward, his outward vision was bounded by - the horizon of his well-ordered little home, of the - Home Counties he had learned to love, and of the - south-coast seaside village in which the family - spent a happy fortnight every summer.</p> - - <p>They were in that little seaside village when the - Huns decreed war and desolation for Europe in - August, 1914, and the three were a good deal upset<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xix" id="Page_xix">[Pg xix]</a></span> - about the whole business, for it interfered with the - railway service, and broke in very unpleasantly - upon the holiday atmosphere, which, coming as it - did for but one fortnight in each year, was exceedingly - precious to the little family. However, - with the Englishman's instinct for clinging to the - established order, with all the national hatred of - disturbance, they clung as far as possible to the - measured pleasantness of their holiday routine, - and, after a week, returned to the workaday - round of life in Brixton.</p> - - <p>Then began a time of peculiar stress and anxiety - for the little household, the dominating factor in - which was the growing strangeness, as it seemed to - them, of its actual head and ruler; of the man in - the house. At first he talked a great deal of the - war, the overpowering news of the day, and he - passed many scathing criticisms upon the conduct - of the authorities in their handling of the first - stages of the monstrous work of preparation. He - had much to say of their blunders and oversights; - and somewhat, too, of what he called their criminal - unpreparedness. He stopped talking rather - abruptly at breakfast one morning; and one of the - headlines which subsequently caught the eyes of - his sister, in the newspaper her brother had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xx" id="Page_xx">[Pg xx]</a></span> - propped against the coffee-pot, put this inquiry, - in bold black type:</p> - - <blockquote><p>"WHOSE FAULT IS IT, MR. CITIZEN, THAT THE - COUNTRY IS UTTERLY UNPREPARED FOR WAR?"</p></blockquote> - - <p>Those nightmarish early days of the great war - slowly succeeded one another, and the mother and - daughter grew perturbed over the change they saw - creeping over their man. He talked hardly at all - now. All the old cheery, kindly good humour - which had provided half the sunshine of their lives - seemed to be disappearing and giving place to a - queer, nervous, morose sort of depression. It was - as if their man lived a double life. Clearly he - was much affected, even absorbed, by some mental - process which he never so much as mentioned to - them. Morning and evening they saw him, and - yet it was as though he was not there, as though - he lived and had his being in some other world, - aloof from the old cosy, familiar, shared world in - which they had always been together. The house-wifely - eye of his mother noted with something like - alarm that his bedroom candlestick required a - fresh candle every day. One had been wont to - serve him for a fortnight. Always, she thought<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxi" id="Page_xxi">[Pg xxi]</a></span> - he would unburden himself when he kissed her - good-night. But he said never a word; and the - nerve strain in the little household, which had - been so quietly happy and bright, became almost - unendurable.</p> - - <p>Then the end came, with the beginning of the - third week in September. The evening was extraordinarily - peaceful and fine. The sister and a girl - friend were at the little cottage piano. The visitor - had a rather rich contralto voice, and sang with - considerable feeling. In the middle of her third - song the master of the house rose abruptly and - walked out of the room, closing the door sharply - behind him. The song was one of those called a - "recruiting song." Late that night, when the - visitor had departed, the brother apologised to his - mother and sister for leaving them so abruptly, - and spoke of a sudden headache. And the next - evening he brought home the devastating news - that he had enlisted, and would be leaving them - next day for a military depot.</p> - - <p>The news was received in dead silence. In some - mysterious way neither of the women had contemplated - this as possible. For others, yes. For - their man—the thing was too wildly, remotely - strange to be possible. There was his business;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxii" id="Page_xxii">[Pg xxii]</a></span> - and, besides—It was merely impossible. And - now he was an enlisted soldier, he told them. - But, though they hardly suspected it, not being - given to the practice of introspection, their man - was not the only member of the little household - in whom a fundamental and revolutionary change - had been wrought by the world-shaking news of - the past six weeks. In the end the women kissed - their man, and the central fact of his astounding - intelligence was not discussed at all. They proceeded - direct to practical, material arrangements. - But when the time came for her good-night kiss, - the mother said, very quietly, "God bless you, - dear!"; and the sister smiled and showed a new - pride through the wet gleam of her eyes.</p> - - <p>And then the auctioneer's clerk disappeared - from the peaceful purlieus of Brixton and went out - alone into an entirely new world, the like of which - had never presented itself to his fancy, even in - dreams. He became one of fifteen men whose - home was a bell tent designed to give easy shelter - to perhaps half that number. He began to spend - his days in a routine of drill which, even to him - with his gymnasium training, seemed most singularly - tiresome and meaningless—at first.</p> - - <p>At the end of four weeks he returned home for a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxiii" id="Page_xxiii">[Pg xxiii]</a></span> - Saturday night and Sunday in the Brixton house; - and he wore one stripe on the sleeve of his service - jacket. To his intelligence there now was nothing - in the whole intricate round of section, platoon, and - company drill which was meaningless, however - wearing it might sometimes seem. There was a - tan on his cheeks, a clear brightness in his eyes, - an alert swing in his carriage, and a surprisingly - crisp ring in his voice which at once bewildered - and delighted his womenfolk. He seemed not so - much a new man as the man whom they had - always loved and respected, in some subtle way - magnified, developed, tuned up, brought to concert - pitch.</p> - - <p>In November he was advised by his Company - Commander to apply for a Commission. The - officer badly wanted him for a Sergeant, but this - officer had long since learned to place duty first - and inclination a long way behind; and it was - apparent to him that in this tall, alert Lance-Corporal - of his, as in so many hundreds of other - men in the ranks, there was the making of a good - officer.</p> - - <p>Shortly before Christmas, 1914, he was gazetted - a Second Lieutenant, and on New Year's Day he - found himself walking across a parade ground to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxiv" id="Page_xxiv">[Pg xxiv]</a></span> - take his place in front of the platoon he subsequently - led in France, after long months of arduous - training in several different English camps.</p> - - <p>Three-quarters of a year passed between the - day of this "Temporary Gentleman's" enlistment - and his writing of the first of the letters now published - over his pseudonym; and it may well be - that all the previous years of his life put together - produced no greater modification and development - in the man than came to him in those nine months - of training for the New Army. The training had - its bookish side, for he was very thorough; but it - was in the open air from dawn till dark, and - ninety per cent. of it came to him in the process - of training others.</p> - - <p>The keynotes of the training were <i>noblesse oblige</i>, - sportsmanship and responsibility, that form of - "playing the game" which is at the root of the - discipline of the British Army. While he taught - the men of his platoon they taught him, in every - hour of the day and many hours of the night. - They learned to call him "A pretty good sort," - which is very high praise indeed. And he learned - to be as jealous of his men as any mother can be of - her children. He learned to know them, in fair - weather and in foul, for the splendid fellows they<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxv" id="Page_xxv">[Pg xxv]</a></span> - are; and in the intensely proud depths of his own - inner consciousness to regard them as the finest - platoon in the New Army.</p> - - <p>And then came the longed-for day of the departure - for France, for the land he was to learn to - love, despite all the horrors of its long fighting - line, just as he learned most affectionately to admire - the men and reverence the women of brave, - beautiful France. In the letters that he wrote - from France he had, of course, no faintest thought - of the ultimate test of publication. That is one - reason why his name is not now attached to documents - so intimate, even apart from the sufficiently - obvious military reasons.</p> - - <p class="right"> - A. J. D. - </p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxvi" id="Page_xxvi">[Pg xxvi]</a></span></p> - <hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxvii" id="Page_xxvii">[Pg xxvii]</a></span></p> - <div class="chapter"> - - <h2 class="nobreak"><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2></div> - - <table class="toc" summary="Contents"> - <tr> - <th></th> - <th class="pag"><small>PAGE</small></th> - </tr><tr> - <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">The First Letter</span></td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">The First March</span></td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_9">9</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">The Tale of a Tub</span></td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_18">18</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">The Trenches at Last</span></td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_28">28</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">A Dissertation on Mud</span></td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_37">37</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">Taking over on a Quiet Night</span></td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_46">46</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">"What It's Like"</span></td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_56">56</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">The Dug-out</span></td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_67">67</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">A Bombing Show</span></td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_79">79</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">Over the Parapet</span></td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_89">89</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">The Night Patrol</span></td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_99">99</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">In Billets</span></td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_111">111</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">Bombardment</span></td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_121">121</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">The Day's Work</span></td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_132">132</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">Tommy Dodd and Trench Routine</span></td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_142">142</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">Stalking Snipers</span></td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_152">152</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">An Artful Stunt</span></td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_160">160</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">The Spirit of the Men</span></td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_169">169</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">An Unhealthy Bit of Line</span></td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_179">179</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">They Say——</span></td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_188">188</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">The New Front Line</span></td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_197">197</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">A Great Night's Work</span></td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_210">210</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">The Coming Push</span></td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_220">220</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">Front Line to Hospital</span></td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_229">229</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">The Push and After</span></td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_239">239</a></td> - </tr><tr> - <td class="cht"><span class="smcap">Blighty</span></td> - <td class="pag"><a href="#Page_250">250</a></td> - </tr> - </table> - - <p class="break-before"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xxix" id="Page_xxix">[Pg xxix]</a></span></p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - - <p class="ph2"> - A "Temporary Gentleman" in France - </p> - - <hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">[Pg 1]</a></span></p> - <div class="chapter"> - <h2 class="nobreak"><a name="THE_FIRST_LETTER" id="THE_FIRST_LETTER"></a>THE FIRST LETTER</h2></div> - - <p>Here we are at last, "Somewhere in France," - and I suppose this will be the first letter you have - ever had from your "Temporary Gentleman" - which hasn't a stamp on it. It is rather nice to - be able to post without stamps, and I hope the - Censor will find nothing to object to in what I - write. It's hard to know where to begin.</p> - - <p>Here we are "at last," I say—we were nearly - a year training at home, you know—and I shall - not easily forget our coming. It really was a - wonderful journey from Salisbury Plain, with - never a hitch of any sort or kind, or so much as a - buttonstick gone astray. Someone with a pretty - good head-piece must arrange these things. At - ten minutes to three this morning we were on the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">[Pg 2]</a></span> - parade ground at —— over a thousand strong. - At twenty minutes to eleven we marched down - the wharf here at ——, well, somewhere in France; - and soon after twelve the cook-house bugle went - in this camp, high up on a hill outside the town, - and we had our first meal in France—less than - eight hours from our huts on the Plain; not quite - the Front yet, but La Belle France, all the same. - I wonder if I should ever have seen it had there - been no war?</p> - - <p>Our transport, horses, mules, and limbers had - gone on ahead by another route. But, you know, - the carrying of over a thousand men is no small - matter, when you accomplish it silently, without - delay, and with all the compact precision of a battalion - parade, as this move of ours was managed. - Three minutes after our train drew up at the - harbour station, over there in England, the four - companies, led by Headquarters Staff, and the - band (with our regimental hound pacing in front) - were marching down the wharf in column of route, - with a good swing. There were four gangways, - and we filed on board the steamer as if it had - been the barrack square. Then off packs and into - lifebelts every man; and in ten minutes the Battalion - was eating its haversack breakfast ration,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">[Pg 3]</a></span> - and the steamer was nosing out to the open sea, - heading for France, the Front, and Glory.</p> - - <p>The trip across was a stirring experience in its - way too. The wide sea, after all, is just as open - to the Boche as to us, and he is pretty well off for - killing craft and mines. Yet, although through - these long months we have been carrying troops - to and fro every day, not once has he been able - to check us in the Channel. The way the Navy's - done its job is—it's just a miracle of British discipline - and efficiency. All across the yellow foam-flecked - sea our path was marked out for us like - a racecourse, and outside the track we could see - the busy little mine-sweepers hustling to and fro - at their police work, guarding the highway for - the British Army. Not far from us, grim and - low, like a greyhound extended, a destroyer slid - along: our escort.</p> - - <p>The thing thrilled you, like a scene in a play; - the quiet Masters of the Sea guarding us on our - way to fight the blustering, boastful, would-be - stealers of the earth. And from first to last I - never heard a single order shouted. There was - not a single hint of flurry.</p> - - <p>It is about seven hours now since we landed, - and I feel as though we had been weeks away<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">[Pg 4]</a></span> - already—I suppose because there is so much to - see. And yet it doesn't seem very foreign, really; - and if only I could remember some of the French - we were supposed to learn at school, so as to be - able to understand what the people in the street - are talking about, it would be just like a fresh - bit of England. Although, just a few hours away, - with no sea between us, there's the Hun, with - his poison gas and his Black Marias and all the - rest of the German outfit. Well, we've brought - a good chunk of England here since the war began; - solid acres of bully beef and barbed wire, - condensed milk and galvanised iron, Maconochie - rations, small-arm ammunition, biscuits, hand - grenades, jam, picks and shovels, cheese, rifles, - butter, boots, and pretty well everything else - you can think of; all neatly stacked in miles of - sheds, and ready for the different units on our - Front.</p> - - <p>I think the French are glad to see us. They - have a kind of a welcoming way with them, in - the streets and everywhere, that makes you feel - as though, if you're not actually at home, you - are on a visit to your nearest relations. A jolly, - cheery, kindly good-natured lot they are, in spite - of all the fighting in their own country and all<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">[Pg 5]</a></span> - the savage destruction the Huns have brought. - The people in the town are quite keen on our - drums and bugles; marching past them is like a - review. It makes you "throw a chest" no matter - what your pack weighs; and we are all carrying - truck enough to stock a canteen with. The - kiddies run along and catch you by the hand. The - girls—there are some wonderfully pretty girls - here, who have a kind of a way with them, a sort - of style that is French, I suppose; it's pretty - taking, anyhow—they wave their handkerchiefs - and smile. "Bon chance!" they tell you. And you - feel they really mean "Good luck!" I like these - people, and they seem to like us pretty well. As - for men, you don't see many of them about. - They are in the fighting line, except the quite - old ones. And the way the women carry on their - work is something fine. All with such a jolly - swing and a laugh; something brave and taking - and fine about them all.</p> - - <p>If this writing seems a bit ragged you must - excuse it. The point of my indelible pencil seems - to wear down uncommonly fast; I suppose because - of the rough biscuit box that is my table. - We are in a tent, with a rather muddy boarded - floor, and though the wind blows mighty cold<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">[Pg 6]</a></span> - and keen outside, we are warm as toast in here. - I fancy we shall be here till to-morrow night. - Probably do a route march round the town and - show ourselves off to-morrow. The C. O. rather - fancies himself in the matter of our band and the - Battalion's form in marching. We're not bad, - you know; and "A" Company, of course, is - pretty nearly the last word. "Won't be much - sleep for the Kaiser after 'A' Company gets to - the Front," says "the Peacemaker." We call our - noble company commander "the Peacemaker," - or sometimes "Ramsay Angell," as I think I - must have told you before, because he's so deadly - keen on knuckle-duster daggers and things of - that sort. "Three inches over the right kidney, - and when you hear his quiet cough you can pass - on to the next Boche," says "the Peacemaker," - when he is showing off a new trench dagger. - Sort of, "And the next article, please," manner - he has, you know; and we all like him for it. It's - his spirit that's made "A" Company what it is. - I don't mean that we call him "the Peacemaker" - to his face, you know.</p> - - <p>We can't be altogether war-worn veterans or - old campaigners yet, I suppose, though it does - seem much more than seven hours since we landed.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">[Pg 7]</a></span> - But everyone agrees there's something about us - that we did not have last year—I mean yesterday. - From the Colonel down to the last man in - from the depot we've all got it; and though I - don't know what it is, it makes a lot of difference. - I think it is partly that there isn't any more "Out - there" with us now. It's "Out here." And - everything that came before to-day is "Over in - England," you know; ever so far away. I don't - know why a man should feel more free here than - in England. But there it is. The real thing, - the thing we've all been longing for, the thing - we joined for, seems very close at hand now, and, - naturally, you know, everyone wants to do his - bit. It's funny to hear our fellows talking, as - though the Huns were round the corner. If - there's anything a man doesn't like—a sore heel, - or a split canteen of stew, or a button torn off—"We'll - smarten the Boche for that," they say, or, - "Righto! That's another one in for the Kaiser!"</p> - - <p>You would have thought we should have had - time during the past six months or so to have - put together most of the little things a campaigner - wants, wouldn't you? especially seeing that a - man has to carry all his belongings about with - him and yet I would make a sporting bet that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">[Pg 8]</a></span> - there are not half a dozen men in the Battalion - who have bought nothing to carry with them to-day. - There is a Y. M. C. A. hut and a good canteen - in this camp, and there has been a great - business done in electric torches, tooth-powder, - chocolate, knives, pipe-lighters, and all manner - of notions. We are all very glad to be here, very - glad; and nine out of ten will dream to-night of - trenches in France and the Push we all mean to - win V.C.'s in. But that's not to say we shall - forget England and the—the little things we care - about at home. Now I'm going to turn in for - my first sleep in France. So give what you have - to spare of my love to all whom it may concern, - and accept the rest yourself from your</p> - - <p class="right"> - "<i>Temporary Gentleman</i>." - </p> - - <hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">[Pg 9]</a></span></p> - <div class="chapter"> - - <h2 class="nobreak"><a name="THE_FIRST_MARCH" id="THE_FIRST_MARCH"></a>THE FIRST MARCH</h2></div> - - <p>We reached this long, straggling village in pale - starlight a little after six this morning; and with - it the welcome end of the first stage of our journey - from the port of disembarking to our section - of the French Front.</p> - - <p>In all the months of our training in England I - never remember to have seen "A" Company anything - like so tired; and we had some pretty gruelling - times, too, during those four-day divisional - stunts and in the chalk trenches on the Plain; - and again in the night ops. on the heather of those - North Yorkshire moors. But "A" Company - was never so tired as when we found our billets - here this morning. Yet we were in better form - than any other company in the Battalion; and - I'm quite sure no other Battalion in the Brigade - could march against our fellows.</p> - - <p>The whole thing is a question of what one has - to carry. Just now, of course, we are carrying - every blessed thing we possess, including great-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">[Pg 10]</a></span>coats - and blankets, not to mention stocks of - 'baccy, torches, maps, stationery, biscuits, and - goodness knows what besides; far fuller kits, no - doubt, than tried campaigners ever have. (I - found little M——, of No. 3 Platoon, surreptitiously - stuffing through a hedge a case of patent - medicines, including cough-mixture and Mother - Somebody's Syrup!) If you ever visit France you - probably won't travel on your own ten toes; but - if you should, be advised by me and cut your kit - down to the barest minimum; and when you've - done that, throw away a good half of what's left.</p> - - <p>Boots and socks. Some people will tell you - that stocks and shares and international politics - are matters of importance. I used to think the - pattern of my neckties made a difference to our - auctions. I know now that the really big things, - the things that are really important, are socks - and boots, and hot coffee and sleep, and bread—"Pang—Compree?" - says Tommy to the French - women, with a finger at his mouth—and then - socks and boots again. You thought we paid a - good deal in the shop for those swanky trench - boots, W—— and myself. That was nothing to - what we've paid since for wearing 'em. Excellent - trench boots, I dare say; but one has to walk<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">[Pg 11]</a></span> - across a good bit of France before getting to the - trenches, you know. Those boots are much too - heavy to carry and no good for marching. They - look jolly and workmanlike, you know, but they - eat up too much of one's heels. Tell all the officers - you know to come out in ordinary marching boots, - good ones, but ordinary ankle boots. Plenty - time to get trench boots when they get to the - trenches. Good old Q.M. Dept. will see to that. - Our respected O.C. Company had no horse, you - know (we haven't yet made connection with our - transport), and his heels to-day look like something - in the steak line about half-grilled.</p> - - <p>We left camp at the port I mustn't name about - eight o'clock last night, and marched down the - hill to the station in sort of thoughtful good spirits, - the packs settling down into their grooves. To - save adding its immensity to my pack, I wore my - imposing trench coat, with its sheep-skin lining; - waist measurement over all, say a hundred and - twenty-five. Two of us had some difficulty about - ramming "the Peacemaker," through his carriage - door into the train, he also being splendid in a - multi-lined trench coat. Then we mostly mopped - up perspiration and went to sleep.</p> - - <p>Between twelve and one o'clock in the morning<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">[Pg 12]</a></span> - we left the train (not without emotion; it was a - friendly, comfortable train), and started to march - across France. The authorities, in their godlike - way, omitted to give us any information as to - how far we were to march. But the weather was - fine, and "A" Company moved off with a good - swing, to the tune of their beloved "Keep the - Camp Fires Burning." The biggest of packs - seems a trifle, you know, immediately after four - hours' rest in a train. But after the first hour - it's astonishing how its importance in your scheme - of things grows upon you; and at the end of the - third or fourth hour you are very glad to stuff - anything like bottles of Mother Somebody's - Syrup through a gap in the nearest hedge.</p> - - <p>It was at about that stage that word reached us - of one or two men falling out from the rear companies. - At this "the Peacemaker" began jogging - up and down the left of our Company—we march - on the right of the road in France—and, for all his - sore heels and tremendous coat, showing the - skittishness of a two-year-old. And he's even - good years older than any of the rest of us, or - than anyone else in the Company. I chipped my - fellows into starting up another song, and my - Platoon Sergeant cheerfully passed the word<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">[Pg 13]</a></span> - round that if anybody in No. 1 dared to fall out - he'd disembowel him with a tin-opener.</p> - - <p>As an actual fact not a single "A" Company - man did fall out, though in the last lap I was a bit - nervy about old Tommy Dodd in 3 Section, whose - rifle I carried, and one or two others. At the end - "the Peacemaker" was carrying the rifles of two - men, and everybody was thankful for walls to - lean against when we stood easy in this village. - My chaps were splendid.</p> - - <p>"Stick it, Tommy Dodd!" I said to the old boy - once, near the end. His good old face was all - twisted with the pain of his feet and the mass of - extra kit which no doubt his wife had made him - carry.</p> - - <p>"Stick it!" says he, with his twisted grin. - "Why, I'm just beginning to enjoy it, sir. Just - getting into me stride, I am. I wouldn't 've - missed this for all the beer in England, sir. But - you wait till we get alongside them blighted - Boches, sir, an' see if I don't smarten some of - 'em for this. I'll give 'em sore 'eels!"</p> - - <p>It was only by lying to the extent of at least - ten years that the old thing was able to enlist, and - you couldn't get him to "go sick" if you drove - him with a whip. The only way old Tommy<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">[Pg 14]</a></span> - Dodd's spirit could be broken would be if you - sent him to the depot and refused him his chance - of "smartening them blighted Boches."</p> - - <p>Everyone in the village was asleep when we got - there, but on the door we found chalked up (as it - might be "Lot So-and-so" at a sale) "1 Officer, - 25 men, 'A' Coy.," and so on. We officers shed - our packs and coats in the road—the joy of that - shedding!—and went round with our platoons - picking out their quarters, and shepherding them - in before they could fall asleep. We knocked up - the inhabitants, who came clattering out in clogs, - with candle-ends in big lanterns. Most remarkably - cheery and good-natured they all seemed, for - that time of day; mostly women, you know, you - don't find many home-staying men in France to-day. - The most of the men's billets are barns and - granaries, and there is a good supply of straw. I - can tell you there was no need to sound any - "Lights Out" or "Last Post." No. 1 Platoon - just got down into their straw like one man, and - no buck at all about it.</p> - - <p>Then when we had seen them all fixed up, we - foraged round for our own billets. Mine proved - a little brick-floored apartment, in which you might - just swing a very small cat if you felt like that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">[Pg 15]</a></span> - kind of jugglery, opening out of the main room, - or bar, of an estaminet—the French village version - of our inn, you know. Here, when they - had had their sleep, the men began to flock this - afternoon for refreshment. The drinking is quite - innocent, mostly café au lait, and occasionally - cider. The sale of spirits is (very wisely) entirely - prohibited. It's most amusing to hear our - chaps "slinging the bat." They are still at the - stage of thinking that if they shout loudly enough - they must be understood, and it is rather as a sort - of good-humoured concession to the eccentricities - of our French hosts, than with any idea of tackling - another language, that they throw in their "Bon - jor's" and the like.</p> - - <p>"Got any pang, Mum?" they ask cheerfully. - Another repeats it, in a regular open-air auction - shout, with a grin and an interrogative "Compree?" - at the end of each remark. Some, still at the top - of their voices, are even bold enough to try - instructing the French. "Françaisee, 'pang'—see? - In Engletairy, 'bread'—see? Compree? - <span class="smcap">B-R-E-A-D</span>, bread." And the kindly French women, - with their smiling lips and anxious, war-worn - eyes, they nod and acquiesce, and bustle in and - out with yard-long loaves and bowls of coffee of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">[Pg 16]</a></span> - precisely the same size as the diminutive wash-hand - basin in my room. I tell you one's heart - warms to these French women, in their workmanlike - short frocks (nearly all black), thick, home-knitted - stockings, and wooden clogs. How they - keep the heels of their stockings so dry and clean, - I can't think. The subject, you notice, is one of - peculiar interest to all of us just now—sock heels, - I mean.</p> - - <p>There have been a good many jobs for officers - all day, so far, and only an hour or so for rest. - But we have arranged for a sumptuous repast—roast - duck and sausages and treacle pudding—at - six o'clock, and the C.O. and Providence permitting, - we shall all turn in before eight. We - don't expect to move on from here till early the - day after to-morrow, and shall have our transport - with us by then. I gather we shall march all - the way from here to the trenches; and really, - you know, it's an excellent education for all of - us in the conditions of the country. People at - home don't realise what a big thing the domestic - side of soldiering is. Our C.O. knew, of course, - because he is an old campaigner. That's why, - back there in England, he harried his officers as - he did. We have to know all there is to know<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">[Pg 17]</a></span> - about the feet, boots, socks, food, cleanliness, and - health of each one of our men, and it has been - made part of our religion that an officer must - never, never, never eat, sleep, or rest until he has - personally seen to it that each man in his command - is provided for in these respects. He has made it - second nature to us, and since we reached France - one has learned the wisdom of his teaching. I - must clear out now—a pow-wow at Battalion - Orderly Room: the village Ecole des Filles. The - weather has completely changed. There's a - thin, crisp coating of snow over everything, and - it's clear and dry and cold. We're all rather tired, - but fit as fleas, and awfully thankful to be getting - so near the firing line. So make your mind quite - easy about your</p> - - <p class="right"> - "<i>Temporary Gentleman</i>." - </p> - - <hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">[Pg 18]</a></span></p> - <div class="chapter"> - - <h2 class="nobreak"><a name="THE_TALE_OF_A_TUB" id="THE_TALE_OF_A_TUB"></a>THE TALE OF A TUB</h2></div> - - <p>If inclined to revile me for apparent neglect of - you these last few days, be charitable and revile - lightly.</p> - - <p>It's astonishing how full one's days are. And - then when late evening arrives and arrangements - for next morning are complete, and one's been the - round of one's platoon billets and seen all in order - for the night—then, instead of being free to write - one's own letters, one must needs wade through - scores written by the men of one's platoon, who—lucky - beggars!—have three times the leisure - we can ever get. Their letters must all be censored - and initialed, you see. Rightly enough, I - suppose, the military principle seems to be never - to allow the private soldier to be burdened by any - responsibility which an officer can possibly take. - The giving away of military information in a - letter, whether inadvertently or knowingly, is, - of course, a serious offence. (German spies are - everywhere.) When I have endorsed all my<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">[Pg 19]</a></span> - platoon's letters, the responsibility for their - contents rests on my shoulders and the men run - no risks.</p> - - <p>If I were an imitative bird now, you would find - my letter reading something after this style:</p> - - <p>"Just a few lines to let you know how we are - getting on, hoping this finds you in the pink as it - leaves me at present. We are getting very near - the Germans now, and you can take it from me - they'll get what for when we come up with 'em. - The grub here is champion, but we are always - ready for more, and I shan't be sorry to get that - parcel you told me of. Please put in a few fags - next time. The French people have a queer way - of talking so you can't always understand all - they say, but they're all right, I can tell you, - when you get to know 'em, and I can sling their - bat like one o'clock now. It's quite easy once - you get the hang of it, this bong jor and pang - parley voo. Milk is lay, and not too easy to get. - The boys are all in the pink, and hoping you're - the same, so no more at present," etc.</p> - - <p>One sometimes gets mad with them for trifles, - but for all the things that really matter—God - bless 'em all! By Jove! they <i>are</i> Britons. They're - always "in the pink" and most things are "cham<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">[Pg 20]</a></span>pion," - and when the ration-wagon's late and a - man drops half his whack in the mud, he grins - and says, "The Army of to-day's all <i>right</i>"; and - that, wait till he gets into the trenches, he'll - smarten the Boches up for that! Oh, but they - are splendid; and though one gets into the way - of thinking and saying one's own men are the best - in the Army, yet, when one means business one - knows very well the whole of the New Army's - made of the same fine stuff. Why, in my platoon, - and in our Company for that matter, they are every - mother's son of them what people at home call - rough, ignorant fellows. And I admit it. Rough - they certainly are; and ignorant, too, by school - standards. But, by Jingo! their hearts are in - the right place, and I'd back any one of them - against any two goose-stepping Boches in the - Kaiser's Prussian Guard.</p> - - <p>And, with it all, mind you, they're so English. - I mean they are <i>kind</i>, right through to their - bones; good fellows, you know; sportsmen, every - one of 'em; fellows you'd trust to look after your - mother. They're as keen as mustard to get to - the strafing of Boches; but that's because the - Boche is the enemy, war is war, and duty is duty. - You couldn't make haters of 'em, not if you paid<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">[Pg 21]</a></span> - 'em all ambassadorial salaries to cultivate a scowl - and sing hymns of hate. Not them. Not all - the powers of Germany and Austria could make - baby-killers, women-slayers, and church-destroyers - of these chaps of ours. If I know anything - about it, they are fine soldiers, but the Kaiser - himself—"Kayser," they call him—couldn't make - brutes and bullies of 'em. Warm their blood—and, - mind you, you can do it easily enough, - even with a football in a muddy field, when they've - been on carrying fatigues all day—and, by Jove! - there's plenty of devil in 'em. God help the - men in front of 'em when they've bayonets - fixed! But withal they're English sportsmen all - the time, and a French child can empty their - pockets and their haversacks by the shedding of - a few tears.</p> - - <p>But I run on (and my candle runs down) - and I give you no news. This is our last night - here, and I ought to be asleep in my flea-bag, for - we make an early start to-morrow for our first - go in the trenches. But it's jolly yarning here - to you, while the whole village is asleep, and no - chits are coming in, and the Battalion Orderly - Room over the way is black and silent as the - grave, except for the sentry's footsteps in the mud.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">[Pg 22]</a></span> - I'm in rather good quarters here, in the Mayor's - house. When we left that first village—I'm afraid - I haven't written since—we had three days of - marching, sleeping in different billets each night. - Here in this place, twelve miles from the firing - line, we've had five days; practising with live - bombs, getting issues of trench kit, and generally - making last preparations. To-morrow night we - sleep in tents close to the line and begin going - into trenches for instruction.</p> - - <p>But, look here, before I turn in, I must just - tell you about this household and my hot bath last - night. The town is a queer little place; farming - centre, you know. The farm-houses are all inside - the village, and mine—M. le Maire's—is one of the - best. From the street you see huge great double - doors, that a laden wagon can drive through, - in a white wall. That is the granary wall. You - enter by the big archway into a big open yard, - the centre part of which is a wide-spreading dung-hill - and reservoir. All round the yard are sheds - and stables enclosing it, and facing you at the - back the low, long white house, with steps leading - up to the front door, which opens into the kitchen. - This is also the living-room of M. le Maire and - his aged mother. Their family lived here before<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">[Pg 23]</a></span> - the Revolution, and the three sturdy young women - and one old, old man employed on the farm, all - live in the house.</p> - - <p>M. le Maire is a warm man, reputed to have a - thorough mastery of the English tongue, among - other things, as a result of "college" education. - So I gather from the really delightful old mother, - who, though bent nearly double, appears to run - the whole show, including the Town Hall opposite - our Battalion Headquarters. I have never succeeded - in inducing the Mayor to speak a word of - English, but he has a little dictionary like a prayer-book, - with perfectly blinding print, and somehow - carries on long and apparently enjoyable conversations - with my batman (who certainly has no - French), though, as I say, one never heard a word - of English on his lips.</p> - - <p>I know what the newspapers are. They pretend - to give you the war news. But I'll bet they'll - tell you nothing of yesterday's really great event, - when the Commander of No. 1 Platoon took a - hot bath, as it were under municipal auspices, - attended by two Company Headquarters orderlies, - his own batman, and the cordially expressed - felicitations of his brother officers, not to mention - the mayoral household, and the whole of No. 1<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">[Pg 24]</a></span> - Platoon, which is billeted in the Mayor's barns - and outbuildings. Early in the day the best - wash-tub had been commandeered for this interesting - ceremony, and I fancy it has an even longer - history behind it than the Mayor's pre-Revolution - home. It is not definitely known that Marie - Antoinette used this tub, bathing being an infrequent - luxury in her day; but if she had been - cursed with our modern craze for washing, and - chanced to spend more than a year or so in this - mud-set village of M——, she certainly would have - used this venerable vessel, which, I gather, began - life as the half of a cider barrel, and still does duty - of that sort on occasion, and as a receptacle for - the storing of potatoes and other nutritious roots, - when not required for the more intimate service - of M. le Maire's mother, for the washing of M. - le Maire's corduroys and underwear, or by M. le - Maire himself, at the season of Michaelmas, I - believe, in connection with the solemn rite of his - own annual bath, which festival was omitted this - year out of deference to popular opinion, because - of the war.</p> - - <p>The household of the Mayor, headed by this - respected functionary himself, received me at the - portals of his ancestral home and ushered me most<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">[Pg 25]</a></span> - kindly and graciously, if with a dash of grave, - half-pitying commiseration, to what I thought at - first was the family vault, though, as I presently - discovered, it was in reality the mayoral salon or - best parlour—as seen in war time—draped in - sacking and year-old cobwebs. Here, after some - rather embarrassing conversation, chiefly gesticulatory - on my side—my conversational long suit - is "Pas du tout! Merci beaucoup," and "Mais - oui, Madame," with an occasional "Parfaitement," - stirred in now and again, not with any meaning, - but as a kind of guarantee of good faith, because - I think it sounds amiable, if not indeed like my - lambs in their billets, "Bien gentil," and "Très - convenable, Monsieur." It is thus they are invariably - described to me when I go inspecting. - As I was saying, here I was presently left alone - with the household cat, two sick rabbits in a sort - of cage which must once have housed a cockatoo - or parrot, my own little towel (a torn half, you - know, designed to reduce valise weight), my sponge - (but, alack! not my dear old worn-out nail-brush, - now lying in trenches on Salisbury Plain), and the - prehistoric wash-tub, now one quarter filled by - what the Mayor regarded, I gathered, as perhaps - the largest quantity of hot water ever accum<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">[Pg 26]</a></span>ulated - in one place—two kettles and one oil-can - full, carried by the orderlies.</p> - - <p>The cat and the rabbits watched my subsequent - proceedings with the absorbed interest of - an intelligent mid-Victorian infant at its first pantomime. - The cat, I blush to say, was female, - and old enough to know better, but I trust the - rabbits were of my own sex. Anyhow, they were - sick, so perhaps it doesn't matter. The entire - mayoral household, with my batman and others, - were assembled in the big kitchen, separated from - the chamber of my ablutions only by a door having - no kind of fastening and but one hinge. Their - silence was broken only by an occasional profound - sigh from the Mayor's aged mother, and three - sounds of reflective expectoration at considerable - intervals from the Mayor himself. So I judged - my bathing to be an episode of rare and anxious - interest to the mayoral family.</p> - - <p>My feet I anointed copiously with a disgusting - unguent of great virtue—it's invaluable for lighting - braziers when one's only fuel is muddy coke - and damp chits—called anti-frostbite grease, - that is said to guard us from the disease known as - "Trench Feet," rumoured prevalent in our sector - by reason of the mellow quality and depth of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">[Pg 27]</a></span> - its mud, which, whilst apparently almost liquid, - yet possesses enough body and bouquet—remember - how you used to laugh at our auction catalogue - superlatives in cellar lots?—to rob a man of his - boots at times. For my hands—chipped about - a bit now—I used carbolated vaseline. (Do you - remember the preternaturally slow and wall-eyed - salesman, with the wart, in the Salisbury shop - where we bought it?) And then, clothed most - sumptuously in virginal underwear, I crawled - into my flea-bag, there to revel from 10.40 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span> - to 6 <span class="smcap">A.M.</span>, as I am about to do now, less one hour - in the morning. How I wish one could consciously - enjoy the luxury of sleep while sleeping! Good - night and God bless you! God bless all the sweet, - brave waiting women of England, and France, and - Russia; and I wish I could send a bit of my clean - comfort to-night to as many as may be of our - good chaps, and France's <i>bon camarades</i>, out here.</p> - - <p>When next I write we shall have seen a bit of - the trenches, I hope, and so then you should - have something more like real news from your</p> - - <p class="right"> - "<i>Temporary Gentleman</i>." - </p> - - <hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">[Pg 28]</a></span></p> - <div class="chapter"> - - <h2 class="nobreak"><a name="THE_TRENCHES_AT_LAST" id="THE_TRENCHES_AT_LAST"></a>THE TRENCHES AT LAST</h2></div> - - <p>You must forgive my not having sent anything - but those two Field Service post cards for a whole - week, but, as our Canadian subaltern, Fosset, - says, it really has been "some" week. My notion - was to write you fully my very first impression of - the trenches, but the chance didn't offer, and - perhaps it's as well. It couldn't be fresher in - my mind than it is now, and yet I understand it - more, and see the thing more intelligently than - on the first night.</p> - - <p>We are now back in the village of B——, three - miles from our trenches. We are here for three - days' alleged rest, and then, as a Battalion, take over - our own Battalion sub-sector of trenches. So far, - we have only had forty-eight hours in, as a Battalion; - though, as individuals, we have had more. - When we go in again it will be as a Battalion, under - our own Brigade and Divisional arrangements, to - hold our own Brigade front, and be relieved later - by the other two Battalions of our Brigade.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">[Pg 29]</a></span></p> - - <p>"A" Company is, I am sorry to say, in tents for - these three days out; tents painted to look like - mud and grass (for the benefit of the Boche airmen) - and not noticeably more comfortable than - mud and grass. An old fellow having the extraordinary - name of Bonaparte Pinchgare, has been - kind enough to lend us his kitchen and scullery - for officers' mess and quarters; and we, like the - men, are contriving to have a pretty good time, - in despite of chill rain and all-pervading mud. - We are all more or less caked in mud, but we - have seen Huns, fired at 'em, been fired at by them, - spent hours in glaring through rag and tin-decked - barbed wire at their trenches, and generally feel - that we have been blooded to trench warfare. - We have only lost two men, and they will prove - to be only slightly wounded, I think; one, before - he had ever set foot in a trench—little Hinkson - of my No. 2 section—and the other, Martin, of - No. 3 Platoon, only a few hours before we came - out.</p> - - <p>Hinkson was pipped by a chance bullet in the - calf of the leg, as we passed through a wood, behind - the support trench. Very likely a Boche - loosed that bullet off in mere idleness, a couple of - thousand yards away; and I doubt if it will mean<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">[Pg 30]</a></span> - even a Blighty for Hinkson. He may be put right - in the Field Ambulance or Clearing Station near - here, or, at farthest, down at the Base. Or he - may chance to go across to Blighty—the first - casualty in the Battalion. The little chap was - furiously angry over getting knocked out before - he could spot a Hun through the foresight of his - rifle, but his mate, Kennedy, has sworn to lay out - a couple of Boches for Hinkson, before he gets - back to us, and Kennedy will do it.</p> - - <p>First impressions! Do you know, I think my - first impression was of the difficulty of finding - one's way about in a maze of muddy ditches - which all looked exactly alike, despite a few - occasional muddy notice-boards perched in odd - corners: "Princes Street," "Sauchiehall Street," - "Manchester Avenue," "Stinking Sap," "Carlisle - Road," and the like. I had a trench map of the - sector, but it seemed to me one never could possibly - identify the different ways, all mud being - alike, and no trench offering anything but mud to - remember it by. In the front or fire-trench itself, - the firing line, one can hop up on the fire-step, - look round quickly between bullets, and get a - bearing. But in all these interminable communication - and branch trenches where one goes to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">[Pg 31]</a></span> - and fro, at a depth varying from six to ten or - twelve feet, seeing only clay and sky, how the - dickens could one find the way?</p> - - <p>And yet, do you know, so quickly are things - borne in upon you in this crude, savage life of raw - realities, so narrow is your world, so vital your - need of knowing it; so unavoidable is your continuous - alertness, and so circumscribed the field - of your occupation, that I feel now I know nothing - else in the world quite so well and intimately as - I know that warren of stinking mud: the two sub-sectors - in which I spent last week. Manchester - Avenue, Carlisle Road, Princes Street, with all - their side alleys and boggy by-ways! Why, they - are so photographed on the lining of my brain that, - if I were an artist (instead of a very muddy subaltern - ex-clerk) I could paint the whole thing for - you—I wish I could. Not only do I know them, - but I've merely to shut my eyes to see any and - every yard of them; I can smell them now; I can - feel the precise texture of their mud. I know - their hidden holes and traps, where the water lies - deep. I know to an inch where the bad breaks - are in the duck-boards that you can't see because - the yellow water covers them. Find one's way! - I know them far better than I know the Thames<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">[Pg 32]</a></span> - Embankment, the Strand, or Brixton Hill! - That's not an exaggeration.</p> - - <p>Duck-boards, by the way, or duck-walks, are - a kindly invention (of the R.E., I suspect) to - save soldiers from the bottomless pit, and to - enable officers on duty to cover rather more than - a hundred yards an hour in getting along their - line of trench. Take two six-or eight-feet lengths - of two inches by four inches' scantling; nail two - or three inch bits of batten across these with two - or three inch gaps between, the width of the frame - being, say, eighteen inches. Thus you have a - grating six or eight feet long and narrow enough - to lie easily in the bottom of a trench. If these - gratings rest on trestles driven deep down into - the mud, and your trenches are covered by them - throughout—well, then you may thank God for - all His mercies and proceed to the more interesting - consideration of strafing Boches, and avoiding - being strafed by them. If you haven't got these - beneficent inventions of the R.E., and you are - in trenches like ours, then you will devote most of - your energies to strafing the R.E., or some other - unseen power for good, through your own headquarters, - for a supply of duck-walks, and you will - (if you are wise) work night and day without check,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">[Pg 33]</a></span> - in well and truly laying every single length you - can acquire.</p> - - <p>("Acquire" is a good, sound word. I would - never blame a man for stealing duck-walks from - any source whatsoever—providing, of course, he is - not so far lost to all sense of decency as to steal - 'em from "A" Company; and even then, if he - could manage it, his cleverness would almost - deserve forgiveness; and, equally, of course, that - he's going to use 'em for their legitimate purpose, - and not just to squat on in a dug-out; least of all - for the absolutely criminal purpose of using as - fuel.)</p> - - <p>"What a fuss you make about mere things to - walk on!" perhaps you'll say. "I thought the - one thing really important was getting to grips - with the enemy." Mmmf! Yes. Quite so. It - is. But, madam, how to do it? "There be ways - and means to consider, look you, whateffer," - as Billy Morgan says. (Billy was the commander - of No. 2 Platoon, you remember, and now, as - reserve Machine-Gun officer, swanks insufferably - about "the M.G. Section," shoves most of his - Platoon work upon me, and will have a dug-out - of his own. We rot him by pretending to attribute - these things to the influence of his exalted<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">[Pg 34]</a></span> - compatriot, the Minister of Munitions. As a fact, - they are due to his own jolly hard work, and really - first-rate abilities.)</p> - - <p>This trench warfare isn't by any means the - simple business you might suppose, and neither, - of course, is any other kind of warfare. There - can be no question of just going for the enemy - bald-headed. He wishes you would, of course; - just as we wish to goodness <i>he</i> would. You have - to understand that up there about the front line, - the surrounding air and country can at any moment - be converted into a zone of living fire—gas, projectiles, - H.E. (High Explosive, you know) flame, - bullets, bursting shrapnel. If you raise a finger - out of trenches by daylight, you present Fritz - with a target, which he will very promptly and - gratefully take, and blow to smithereens. That's - understood, isn't it? Right. To be able to fight, - in any sort of old way at all, you must continue - to live—you and your men. To continue to live - you must have cover. Hence, nothing is more - important than to make your trenches habitable, - and feasible; admitting, that is, of fairly easy and - quick communication.</p> - - <p>To live, you see, you must eat and drink. The - trenches contain no A B C's. Every crumb of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">[Pg 35]</a></span> - bread, every drop of tea or water, like every cartridge - you fire, must be carried up from the rear - on men's shoulders, along many hundreds of yards - of communicating trenches. Also, in case you - are suddenly attacked, or have to attack, quick - movement is vital. Nature apparently abhors - a trench, which is a kind of a vacuum, and not - precisely lovable, anyhow; and, in this part of - the world, she proceeds wherever possible to fill - it with water. Pumps? Why, certainly. But - clay and slush sides cave in. Whizz-bangs and - H.E. descend from on high displacing much porridge-like - soil. Men hurrying to and fro day and - night, disturb and mash up much earth in these - ditches. And, no matter how or why, there is - mud; mud unspeakable and past all computation. - Consider it quietly for a moment, and you will - feel as we do about duck-walks—I trust the inventor - has been given a dukedom—and realise the - pressing importance of various material details - leading up to that all-important strafing of - Boches.</p> - - <p>But there, the notion of trying to tell you about - trenches in one letter is, I find, hopelessly beyond - me, and would only exhaust you, even if I could - bring it off. I can only hope gradually to get<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">[Pg 36]</a></span> - some sort of a picture into your mind, so that you - will have a background of sorts for such news of - our doings as I'm able to send you as we go on. - Just now, I am going to tackle an alarming stack - of uncensored letters from Nos. 1 and 2 Platoons—some - of the beggars appear to be extraordinarily - polygamous in the number of girls they write to; - bless 'em!—and then to turn in and sleep. My - goodness, it's a fine thing, sleep, out of trenches! - But I'll write again, probably to-morrow.</p> - - <p>The men are all remarkably fit and jolly. One - or two old hands here have told me the line we - are taking over is really pretty bad. Certainly it - was a revelation to our fellows, after the beautiful, - clean tuppenny-tubes of trenches we constructed - on Salisbury Plain. But one hears no - grousing at all, except of the definitely humorous - and rather pleased kind—rather bucked about it, - you know—the men are simply hungry for a - chance to "get" at the Hun, and they work like - tigers at trench betterment. We are all well and - jolly, and even if sometimes you don't hear often, - there's not the slightest need to worry in any way - about your</p> - - <p class="right"> - "<i>Temporary Gentleman</i>." - </p> - - <hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">[Pg 37]</a></span></p> - <div class="chapter"> - - <h2 class="nobreak"><a name="A_DISSERTATION_ON_MUD" id="A_DISSERTATION_ON_MUD"></a>A DISSERTATION ON MUD</h2></div> - - <p>The second of our rest days is over, and to-morrow - night we shall go into the firing line and - relieve the ——s. We shall march back the way - we came out, down the sad-looking green valley - round the lips of which some of our batteries are - hidden; through the deserted streets of ——, - with its boarded-up shops and houses; on over - the weed-grown railway track, through a little - village whose church is still unbroken; though few - of its cottage windows have any glass left in them; - across the busy little river to Ambulance Corner—a - favourite target for Boche shells, that bit of - road—and so through the wooded hollow where - the German gas lies deadly thick when it comes, - into the foot of Manchester Avenue, the long communication - trench leading up to the Battalion's - trench headquarters in the support line, where - "A" Company will branch off to the right, "B" - to the left, and "C" to the extreme left of our - sub-sector.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">[Pg 38]</a></span></p> - - <p>That town I mentioned—not the little village - close to Ambulance Corner, where most roofs and - walls show shell-torn rents and a few are smashed - to dust—is rather like a city of the dead. It has - a cathedral which the gentle Hun has ranged on - with thoughtful frightfulness. But though, under - the guidance of his aerial observers, the Boche - has smashed up that cathedral pretty thoroughly, - and its tower has great gaping chunks riven out - of its sides by shells, yet, as folk say miraculously, - its crowning attraction, a monstrous gilt figure - of the Madonna and Child, thirty to fifty feet - high, remains intact. But this remarkable gilt - statue has been undermined at its base by H.E. - shell, and now hangs over at right angles to the - street far below it—a most extraordinary sight. - The devout naturally claim that no German projectile - will prove powerful enough to lower the - sacred emblem any farther. Boche savagery in - France has not weakened anyone's faith, I think; - possibly the reverse.</p> - - <p>A foundry or factory near by is now a tangled - mass of scrap iron, and as one marches through - the town one has queer intimate glimpses of deserted - bedroom interiors, with homely furnishings - exposed to all the weather, where a shell has sliced<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">[Pg 39]</a></span> - one wall clean down from a first or second storey - and left the ground floor intact.</p> - - <p>But I was going to tell you about trenches. - When I first began to walk up Manchester Avenue, - my thought was, "There's nothing much to grumble - at here. I call this pretty good. A little - sloppy under foot perhaps, but really nothing to - write home about." I've often laughed at that - since. For several hundred yards it cuts through - a ridge of chalk. It is wide enough to enable - one to pass a man in it anywhere with comfort. - Its parapet and parados tower white, clean, and - unbroken a foot or so over your head. Its sides - are like the sides of a house or a tunnel; good, dry, - solid chalk, like our Salisbury trenches, with never - a sign of caving in about them. And on the hard - bottom under foot-perhaps two or three inches - of nice clean chalky slime and water. It has a - gentle gradient which makes it self-draining.</p> - - <p>You could easily go right up it to Battalion - Headquarters in the support trench in ordinary - marching boots, and be none the worse. And - since then I've known what it means to get a - bootful of muddy water, when wearing trench - boots; rubber thigh-boots, you know, with straps - buckling to your belt. The change begins a little<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">[Pg 40]</a></span> - way above the Battalion Headquarters dug-out, - in support line. You leave the chalk behind you - and get into clay, and then you leave the clay behind - you and get into yellow porridge and treacle. - And then you come to a nice restful stretch of a - couple of hundred yards or so, in which you pray - for more porridge; and it seems you're never - coming to any more. This is a vein of glue in the - section which "A" will go to-morrow night.</p> - - <p>"Very old and curious!" "Remarkably fine, - full body!" Oh! that glue vein is from the end - bin, genuine old-vatted, I can assure you. It - must have eaten up some hundreds of pairs of - boots by now, and a regular Noah's Ark full of - trench stores, ammunition, and other useful - material.</p> - - <p>The glue vein probably had a bottom in bygone - days, but now I fancy the Hun has knocked the - bottom out of it. In any case, we never met - anyone who had found bottom in that bit of line, - and as the tallest man in the company is only six - foot two, I hope we never shall. At first you - think you will skip along quick, like skating fast - on very thin ice, and with feet planted far apart, - so as to get the support of the trench sides. That - bit of trench is possessed of devils, and they laugh<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">[Pg 41]</a></span> - when you stretch your legs, meaning to get - through with it as quick as you can. The glue's - so thick and strong, after the soupy stuff you've - been wading through, that you welcome the solid - look of it. (That's where the devils begin their - chuckling.)</p> - - <p>Perhaps at the first few steps you only sink - about a foot, leaving your knees easily clear. - "Oh! come!" you say (and that's where the devils - of the glue patch laugh out loud). At the next - step you go in a little deeper, and in your innocence - give quite a sharp tug to lift your foot. - You lift it all right, perhaps half-way up the leg - of your boot, possibly ripping off a brace button - in the process, if you've been unwise enough to - fasten up the top straps of your boots that way. - (The devils go on laughing.) Then you pause, - reflectively, while shoving your foot down in - your boot again, and take a good look round you, - wondering what sort of a place you've struck. - (This is where the devils have to hold their sides - in almost painful hilarity.)</p> - - <p>While you reflect you sink, so slowly and softly - that you don't notice it till you try the next step. - And then, with the devils of that section roaring - their ugly Hunnish heads off all round you, if<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">[Pg 42]</a></span> - you have no better luck than Tommy Dodd had, - his first night in, you may continue reflecting for - quite a long while, till somebody comes along - who knows that particular health resort. Then - two or three Samaritans with picks and shovels - and a post or two will be brought, and, very laboriously, - you'll be dug and levered out; possibly - with your boots, possibly without either them or - your socks.</p> - - <p>But what reduces the devils to helpless, tearful - contortions of merriment, is a coincidental - decision on the part of a Boche gunner to start - peppering that bit of trench with shrap., or a - machine-gun, during your reflective period. Then - it's great; a really first-class opportunity for reviewing - the errors of your past life.</p> - - <p>After this substantial <i>pièce de résistance</i> (yes, - thanks, I'm progressing very nicely with my - French this term), you come to a delicately refreshing - dessert in Sauchiehall Street, where the - water lies very deep in most parts, but so sweetly - liquid as to wash the glue well off up to our coat - pockets. This innocent stuff can be pumped out - quite easily, and is pumped out every day, into - a gully, which we devoutly hope leads well into a - Boche sap. But pump as you will, it fills up very<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">[Pg 43]</a></span> - rapidly. And so, with new washed boots (and - coat pockets) to Whizz-bang Corner, where - Sauchiehall Street enters the fire trench, and the - Hun loves to direct his morning and evening hymns - of hate in the hope of catching tired ration-carriers, - and, no doubt, of spilling their rations. It - was there that Martin of No. 3 Platoon got his - quietener on the morning we came out. But with - luck and no septic trouble, hell be back in a month - or so. The surroundings are a bit toxic, as you - may imagine. That's why, after even the slightest - wound, they inoculate with anti-tetanus—marvellously - successful stuff.</p> - - <p>The fire trench in this particular bit is rather a - mockery, as "the Peacemaker" said, when he - tried to climb out of it, our first night in, to have - a look at the barbed wire and No Man's Land. - He had a revolver in one hand and a bomb in - the other, but I am pleased to say the safety-pin - of that bomb was efficient; and, in any case, I relieved - him of it after he fell back the second time. - The sides of that trench have been so unmercifully - pounded by the Boche, and the rain has been so - persistent of late that the porridge here is more - like gruel than the breakfast dish, and the average - sand-bag in the parapet, when not submerged,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">[Pg 44]</a></span> - is as unfriendly to get a grip on, as one of those - crustaceous pink bombs they sometimes swindle - you with at restaurants. You know, the kind - you chase round your plate and find splinter-proof.</p> - - <p>Thirty or forty yards north from Whizz-bang - Corner, in the fire trench, you come to a loop turn - to the rear called Whitehall, not because there's - a War Office there, but because there's a queer - little vein of chalk which disappointingly peters - out again in less than a dozen paces. That leads - to the Company Headquarters dug-out; an extraordinary - hole, I thought, when I first saw it; a - jolly nice, homely dug-out I think it now, and with - a roof—well, not shell-proof, you know, but water-tight, - and quite capable of standing a whizz or - a grenade, or anything short of serious H.E. You - stride over a good little dam and then down two - steps to get into it, and it has a real door, carried - up, I suppose, from the village in the rear. It also - has a gilt-edged looking-glass, a good packing-case - table, the remains of two wooden chairs, - two shelves made of rum-jar cases, and two good - solid wire-strung bunks, one over the other. - There's no doubt it is some dug-out.</p> - - <p>And, madam, don't you go for to think that - there's anything contemptible about our trenches,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">[Pg 45]</a></span> - anyhow. Perhaps I pitched it a bit strong about - that glue patch. In any case, I promise you two - things: (1) They'll be very different trenches - before long if "A" Company has two or three - turns of duty in them. (2) They're every bit as - good as, and a bit better than, the trenches opposite, - where the Hun is; and I know it <i>because I've - been there</i>. I meant to have told you of that to-night, - but I've left it too late, and must wait for - my next letter. But it's quite right. I've had a - look at their front line and found it distinctly - worse than ours, and got back without a scratch, - to sign myself still your</p> - - <p class="right"> - <i>"Temporary Gentleman."</i> - </p> - - <hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">[Pg 46]</a></span></p> - <div class="chapter"> - - <h2 class="nobreak"><a name="TAKING_OVER_ON_A_QUIET_NIGHT" id="TAKING_OVER_ON_A_QUIET_NIGHT"></a>TAKING OVER ON A QUIET NIGHT</h2></div> - - <p>Last evening brought an end to our rest cure, - as I told you it would, and saw us taking over - out section of the firing line. Now I have just - turned into the Company dug-out for a rest, - having been pretty much on the hop all night - except for a short spell between two and four this - morning. As I think I told you, this is not at all - a bad dug-out, and quite weather-proof. It has - two decent bunks one over the other. We all - use it as a mess, and "the Peacemaker," Taffy - Morgan, and myself use it for sleeping in; Tony - and "the Infant" kipping down (when they get - the chance) in a little tiny dug-out that we made - ourselves when we were in here for instruction, - just the other side of Whizz-bang Corner, in the - fire trench.</p> - - <p>You remember "the Infant," don't you? No. - 4 Platoon. His father's doctoring now in the - R.A.M.C. He's a nice boy, and has come on a - lot since we got out here. He was to have been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">[Pg 47]</a></span> - a land surveyor, or something of that sort, and - has a first-rate notion of trench work and anything - like building.</p> - - <p>In writing to you I'd like to avoid, if I could, - what seems to be a pretty common error among - men at the front, and one that leads to some - absurd misapprehensions among people at home. - I remember listening once in a tram-car at home - to two Tommies, one of whom had returned from - the front. The other was asking him how they - managed in the matter of shifting wounded men - back to some place where they could be attended - to.</p> - - <p>"Oh! that's simple enough," said the chap - who'd been out. "They've a regular routine for - that. You see, there are always barges waiting, - and when you're wounded they just dump you - on board a barge and take you down the canal - to where the dressing station is."</p> - - <p>"I see; so that's the way it's done," said the - other man.</p> - - <p>And I could see that the impression left on his - mind was that barges were in waiting on a canal - right along the five hundred miles of Franco-British - line.</p> - - <p>You see what I mean. A fellow out here knows<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">[Pg 48]</a></span> - only his own tiny bit of front, and he's very apt - to speak of it as if it were <i>the</i> Front, and folk at - home are apt to think that whatever is applicable - to their man's particular mile or so is applicable - to the whole Front. Which, of course, is wildly - wrong and misleading. When in trenches one - battalion may find itself in a wood, another on a - naked hillside, one in the midst of a ruined village, - with the cellars of smashed cottages for dug-outs, - and another with its trenches running alongside - a river or canal. So don't make the mistake of - thinking that what I tell you applies to the Front - generally, although in a great many matters it - may be typical enough.</p> - - <p>Now you'd like to know about the business of - taking over these trenches. Well, this was the - way of it. "The Peacemaker," our noble Company - Commander, came on here in advance yesterday - afternoon, with the Company Sergeant-Major. - Our Company S.M., by the way, is a remarkably - fine institution, and, I think, the only real ex-regular - we have in the Company. He's an ex-N.C.O. - of Marines, and a really splendid fellow, - who is out now for a V.C., and we all hope he'll - get it. He and "the Peacemaker" came along - about three hours ahead of us, leaving me to bring<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">[Pg 49]</a></span> - the Company. "The Peacemaker" went carefully - all over this line with the O.C. of the Company - we relieved, noted the sentry posts and special - danger spots—unhealthy places, you know, more - exposed to Boche fire than others—and generally - took stock and made his plans for us.</p> - - <p>I forgot to say that a Sergeant from each platoon - accompanied "the Peacemaker" and the S.M., - so as to be able to guide their respective platoons - in to their own bits of the line when they arrived. - Then the S.M. checked over all the trench stores—picks, - shovels, wire, pumps, small-arm ammunition, - rockets, mud-scoops, trench repair material, - and all that—with the list held by the S.M. of - the Company we were relieving, which our own - beloved "Peacemaker," had to sign "certified - correct," you know. Meantime, "the Peacemaker" - took over from the other O.C. Company - a report of work done and to be done—repairing - parapets, laying duck-walks, etc.—though in this - case I regret to remark the only very noticeable - thing was the work to be done, or so it seems to us—and - generally posted himself up and got all - the tips he could.</p> - - <p>Just about dusk "A" Company led the way - out of B——, and marched the way I told you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">[Pg 50]</a></span> - of to Ambulance Corner. Needless to say, they - presented a fine soldierly appearance, led and - commanded as they were for the time by your - "Temporary Gentleman." There was a certain - liveliness about Ambulance Corner when we - reached it, as there so frequently is, and I am sorry - to say poor "B" Company in our rear had two - men wounded, one fatally. I took "A" Company - at the double, in single file, with a yard or so between - men, across the specially exposed bit at - the corner, and was thankful to see the last of - 'em bolt into the cover of Manchester Avenue - without a casualty. It gave me some notion - of the extra anxiety that weighs on the minds of - O.C. Companies who take their responsibilities - seriously, as I think most of 'em do.</p> - - <p>Then, when we were getting near Whizz-bang - Corner, we were met by the four platoon N.C.O.'s - who had gone on in advance with the Coy. S.M., - and they guided the platoons to their respective - sections of our line. Meantime, you understand, - not a man of the Company we were relieving had - left the line. The first step was for us to get our - platoon Sergeants to post sentries to relieve each - one of those of the other Company, on the fire-step, - and we ourselves were on hand with each<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">[Pg 51]</a></span> - group, to see that the reliefs thoroughly understood - the information and instructions they got - from the men they relieved. Then our advance - N.C.O.'s showed the other men of their platoons - such dug-outs as were available for them—a - pretty thin lot in this section, but we shall tackle - the job of increasing and improving 'em as soon - as we can, while we Platoon Commanders had a - buck with the Platoon Commanders of the other - Company.</p> - - <p>Finally, "the Peacemaker" shook hands with - the O.C. of the Company we relieved outside - Company Headquarters—that's this dug-out—the - other fellow wished him luck, both of them, - separately, telephoned down to Battalion Headquarters - (in the support trenches) reporting the - completion of the relief, and the last of the other - Company filed away out down Sauchiehall Street - to Manchester Avenue, billets and "alleged rest." - As a matter of fact, they are to get some real - rest, I believe, another Company of our Brigade - being billeted in the village just behind the lines - this week, to do all the carrying fatigues at night—bringing - up trench-repair material and all that.</p> - - <p>It was a quiet night, with no particular strafing, - and that's all to the good, because, in the first<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">[Pg 52]</a></span> - place, it gives us a better chance to study the line - again by daylight, and, again, it enables us to get - on quickly with certain very necessary trench - repairs. We had half the Company working all - night at the parapet, which had some very bad - gaps, representing a serious multiplication of - unhealthy spots, which have to be passed many - times day and night, and must always be dangerous - to pass. The Boche is pretty nippy in locating - gaps of this sort and getting his snipers and machine-gunners - to range on them, so that unless they are - repaired casualties are certain. One repairs them - by building up the gaps with sand-bags, and for - these it is necessary to find approximately dry - earth: a pretty difficult job in this section.</p> - - <p>No strafing and a quiet night! I wonder how - you, and people generally at home, interpret that? - "The rest of the Front was quiet"; "Nothing - of interest to report"; "Tactical situation unchanged," - and so on. They are the most familiar - report phrases, of course.</p> - - <p>Well, there was a time last night, or, rather, - between two and four this morning, when on our - particular section there was no firing at all beyond - the dropping rifle fire of the Boche sentries opposite - and a similar desultory fire from our sentries.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">[Pg 53]</a></span> - Now and again a bullet so fired may get a man - passing along a communication trench, or, more - likely, of course, a man exposed, either on patrol - in No Man's Land or in working on the parapet. - More often they hit nobody. During the same - time, in our particular section, a flare-light went - up from the Boche line opposite, I suppose about - every other minute. That's to give their sentries - a chance of seeing any patrol we may have creeping - about in their direction.</p> - - <p>During all the rest of this quiet night of no - strafing there was just "normal fire." That is to - say, the Boche machine-guns sprayed our parapet - and the intervening bit of No Man's Land, maybe, - once every quarter of an hour. Their rifle fire - was more continuous; their flares and parachute - and star-lights the same. Eight or ten times in - the night they gave us salvoes of a dozen whizz-bangs. - Twice—once at about ten, and again - about twelve—they gave our right a bit of a - pounding with H.E., and damaged the parapet a - little. Once they lobbed four rifle grenades over - our left from a sap they have on that side. But - we had been warned about that, and gave 'em - gyp for it. We had a machine-gun trained on that - sap-head of theirs, and plastered it pretty effec<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">[Pg 54]</a></span>tually, - so quickly that I think we must have got - their grenadiers. They shut up very promptly, - anyhow, and a bombing patrol of ours that got to - the edge of their sap half an hour later found not - a creature there to bomb.</p> - - <p>Our fire during the night was similar to theirs, - but a bit less. "The Peacemaker" has a strong - prejudice in favour of saving his ammunition for - use on real live targets, and I think he's right. - We had one man slightly wounded, and that's all. - And I think that must be admitted to be pretty - good, seeing that we were at work along the parapet - all night. That is a specimen of a really - quiet night.</p> - - <p>At Stand-to this morning Fritz plastered our - parapet very thoroughly with his machine-guns, - evidently thinking we were Johnny Raws. He - wasted hundreds of rounds of ammunition over - this. We were all prepared. Not a head showed, - and my best sniper, Corporal May, got one of - their machine-gun observers neatly through the - head. Our lines are only a hundred yards apart - just there.</p> - - <p>But I must turn in, old thing, or I'll get no rest - to-day. I know I haven't told you about the - look I had at the Boche trenches. But perhaps<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">[Pg 55]</a></span> - I'll have something better to tell when I next - write.</p> - - <p>Meantime, we are as jolly as sand-boys, and - please remember that you need not be in the least - anxious about your</p> - - <p class="right"> - "<i>Temporary Gentleman</i>." - </p> - - <hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">[Pg 56]</a></span></p> - <div class="chapter"> - - <h2 class="nobreak"><a name="WHAT_ITS_LIKE" id="WHAT_ITS_LIKE"></a>"WHAT IT'S LIKE"</h2></div> - - <p>The wonder is, not that I didn't get the one post - card you mention, but that you apparently have - had everything I have written. Really, I do - think the British postal arrangements out here are - one of the most remarkable features of the war. - The organisation behind our lines is quite extraordinary. - Right up here in the firing line itself - we get our letters and parcels every day. In the - midst of a considerable bombardment I have seen - fellows in artillery shelters in the line reading - letters and opening parcels of little luxuries just - received from home.</p> - - <p>It's very nice of you to copy out my letters for - friends at home to read. One simply can't hope - to write to a number of different people, you know, - because any spare time going one wants to use - for sleep. I'm sorry I've omitted to tell you - about some things I promised to explain, and - must try to do better.</p> - - <p>As to the time I saw into the Boche trenches<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">[Pg 57]</a></span> - while we were in for instruction, that was nothing - really; due to my own stupidity, as a matter of - fact, and I dare say that's why I said nothing - about it. It was our second night in for instruction, - and the Company we were with was sending - out a small bombing patrol, so, of course, I asked - if I could go too, and see what was to be seen. - The O.C. of the Company very kindly let me - go, and take with me Corporal Slade, of my - platoon, an excellent chap, and very keen to - learn. I wish he could have had a better teacher.</p> - - <p>While close to the Boche wire our little party—only - five, all told—sighted a Boche patrol quite - twenty strong, and our officer in charge very - properly gave the word to retire to a flank and - get back to our own trench, or, rather, to a sap - leading from it, so as to give warning of the - Boche patrol. This was where, in my experience, - I went wrong and led Slade astray. I was very - curious, of course, to have a good look at the - Boche patrol—the first I'd seen of the enemy in - the open—and, like a fool, managed to get detached - from the other three of our lot, Slade - sticking close to me with a confidence I didn't - deserve.</p> - - <p>When I realised that the others were clean out<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">[Pg 58]</a></span> - of sight, and the Boche party too, I made tracks - as quickly as I could—crawling, you know—as - I believed for our line, cursing myself for not - having a compass, a mistake you may be sure I - shall not make again. Just then a regular firework - display of flares went up from the Boche - line, and they opened a hot burst of machine-gun - fire. We lay as close as we could in the soggy - grass, Slade and myself, and got no harm. Things - were lively for a while, with lots of fire from both - sides, and more light from both sides than was - comfortable.</p> - - <p>Later, when things had quietened down, we - got on the move again, and presently, after a - longish crawl through barbed wire, reached the - parapet, and were just about to slide in, side by - side, pretty glad to be back in the trench, when - a fellow came round the traverse—we were just - beside a traverse—growled something, and jabbed - at Slade with his bayonet.</p> - - <p>Bit confusing, wasn't it? Makes you think - pretty quick. I suppose we realised we had struck - the Boche line instead of our own in something - under the twentieth part of a second, and what - followed was too confused for me to remember - much about. No doubt we both recognised the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">[Pg 59]</a></span> - necessity for keeping that chap quiet in the same - fraction of time that we saw we had reached the - wrong trenches. I can remember the jolly feeling - of my two thumbs in his throat. It was jolly, - really, though I dare say it will seem beastly to - you. And I suspect Slade did for the chap. We - were lying on a duck-board at the bottom of the - trench, and I know my little trench dagger fell - and made a horrid clatter, which I made sure - would bring more Boches. But it didn't.</p> - - <p>I am sorry to say I left the little dagger there, - but I collared the Boche's rifle and bayonet, - thinking that was the only weapon I had, and - clean forgetting the two Mills bombs in my pockets. - Slade was a perfect brick and behaved all through - like the man he is. We were anxious to make - tracks without unnecessary delay, but, being - there, thought we might as well have a look at - the trench. We crept along two bays without - hearing or seeing a soul. And then we heard a - man struggling in deep mud and cursing in fluent - German. I've thought since, perhaps, we ought - to have waited for him and tried a bomb on him. - But at the same time came several other different - voices, and I whispered to Slade to climb out - and followed him myself without wasting any<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">[Pg 60]</a></span> - time. The trench was a rotten bad one at this - point, worse, I think, than any of ours. And I - was thankful for it, because if it had been good - those Boches would surely have been on us before - we could get out. As it was, the mud held them, - and the noises they made grovelling about in it - prevented them from hearing our movements, - though we made a good deal of noise, worrying - through their wire, especially as I was dragging - that Boche rifle, with bayonet fixed.</p> - - <p>There were glimmering hints of coming daylight - by the time we got into the open, which made it - a bit easier to take a bearing, and also pretty - necessary to have done with it quickly, because - in another half-hour we should have been a target - for the whole Boche line. Here again Slade was - first-rate. He recognised a big shell-hole in the - ground, which he had noticed was about fifty - yards north of the head of a sap leading from our - own line, and that guided us in to the same opening - in our wire from which we had originally - started. Fine chap, Slade! Three minutes later - we were in our own trench, and I got a good tot - of rum for both of us from the O.C. Company, - who'd made up his mind he'd have to report us - "Missing." So, you see, you didn't miss much<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">[Pg 61]</a></span> - by not being told all about this before, except an - instance of carelessness on my part, which might - have been more costly if I hadn't had a most - excellent chap with me. "The Peacemaker's" - going to recommend him for Lance-Sergeant's - stripes, by the way, when we get out of trenches - this time.</p> - - <p>You know, that question of yours about what - it is really "like" here at the front isn't nearly - so easy to answer as you might suppose. You - must just be patient. I'll tell you things as I - learn them and see them, gradually; and, gradually, - too, you must try to piece 'em together till - they make some sort of picture for you. If I - were a real writer I might be able to make it all - clear in one go, but—well, it's not easy.</p> - - <p>I've told you about the trenches on the way - up from Ambulance Corner, the communication - trenches, that is, running up at right angles to - the firing line. The chief difference between the - firing line and the communication trenches, of - course, is that it faces the Boche front line, running - roughly parallel to it, and that, say eighteen - inches above the bottom of it, there is a fire-step - running along its front side. When you get up - on that you have a fire position: that is, you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">[Pg 62]</a></span> - can see over the parapet, across No Man's Land, - to the Boche front line, and fire a rifle.</p> - - <p>The lines of trenches are not straight, of course. - They curve about according to the nature of the - ground. Running out from them on both sides - towards the enemy lines there are saps, at the - end of which we station listening posts at night - with wired-up telephone and bell connections - with the firing line. Roughly speaking, a fire - trench is cut out rather like this:</p> - - <div class="figcenter"> - <a id="trenches" name="trenches"></a> - <img src="images/trenches.jpg" - alt="Trenches" - title="Trenches" /> - </div> - - <p>with traverses every twenty or thirty paces, so - as to make it impossible for an enemy on your - flank to get what is called enfilade fire down and - along the trench. Enfilade fire is deadly, of - course. Fire from the front, on the other hand, - if it falls short or overshoots the mark even by - a yard lands in front of or behind your trench. - You get that?</p> - - <p>And what does it look like when one stares out - from one's front trench? Well, it depends. It's - always pretty queer, but it's queerest at night, - when the Boche is sending up his ghostly flares, - or when there's enough moonlight to make you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">[Pg 63]</a></span> - fancy all the time you can see all manner of things. - First, there's your own parapet, anything from - five to five-and-twenty feet of it, sloping gradually - down to the open grass of No Man's Land. - That's what stops the bullets destined for your - head. When Boche shells are well enough placed - to blow it in, you must build it up again as soon - as you can, or the bit of trench behind it will be - exposed, and as your men pass to and fro there - will be casualties.</p> - - <p>Well, then, anything from ten to twenty or - thirty feet beyond the lip of your trench, your - wire entanglements begin, and extend, say a good - thirty or forty paces out into No Man's Land. - You've seen barbed-wire entanglements in pictures: - row after row of stakes (some of ours are - iron screw standards now, that can be set up - silently) laced together across and across by barbed - wire, forming an obstacle which it is particularly - difficult and beastly to get through, especially at - night, which, of course, is the only time you - could even approach it without being blown to - bits.</p> - - <p>Here and there all through our wire are old - bells, tin cans, bits of flattened tin, and oddments - of that sort hanging loosely, so that when even a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">[Pg 64]</a></span> - rat begins cavorting about in the wire at night - your sentries know about it, and the Boche is - neither so slim nor so agile as a rat. Say that he - comes by night with bombs in his hand. One - cannot throw a bomb with any accuracy of aim - more than twenty or thirty yards. Boche finds - himself stopped by our wire, say fifty or sixty - yards from our line. If he slowly worms himself - in, say twenty paces, without being heard—and - he won't—and lobs a bomb at our line, imagine - the hail of lead that's coming about him as he - tries to wriggle his way back through the wire - after shying his bomb!</p> - - <p>But, as a matter of fact, the Boche is not good - at that game. He does not shine at all at creep-in - on our line. When he leaves his trenches at all - he seems to prefer coming out in pretty close - formation, rubbing shoulders with his pals. Our - fellows are a good deal better at sculling about - over the sticks than he is.</p> - - <p>Here and there in the wire, among the tin cans - and things, you can see fluttering bits of weather-worn - uniform and old rags, and, at times, things - more gruesome. Beyond the wire you see the - strip of No Man's Land. Where we are, the - average width of it is round about a hundred<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">[Pg 65]</a></span> - yards. In some places it's more, and in one place - we can see, perhaps a mile off, it narrows down to - much less than half that. Then begins the Boche - wire, and through and across that you see the - Boche front line, very much like your own, too - much like your own to be very easily distinguished - from it at night.</p> - - <p>But that's a wonderful thing, that strip we call - No Man's Land, running from the North Sea to - Switzerland, five hundred miles. All the way - along that line, day and night, without a moment's - cessation, through all these long months, men's - eyes have been glaring across that forsaken strip, - and lead has been flying to and fro over it. To - show yourself in it means death. But I have heard - a lark trilling over it in the early morning as sweetly - as any bird ever sang over an English meadow. - A lane of death, five hundred miles long, strewn - from end to end with the remains of soldiers! - And to either side of it, throughout the whole of - these five hundred miles, a warren of trenches, - dug-outs, saps, tunnels, underground passages, - inhabited, not by rabbits, but by millions of - rats, it's true, and millions of hiving, busy men, - with countless billions of rounds of death-dealing - ammunition, and a complex organisation as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">[Pg 66]</a></span> - closely ordered and complete as the organisation - of any city in England!</p> - - <p>It's also inhabited at this moment by one man - who simply must stop scribbling, and have some - grub before going on duty. This one among the - millions, with the very healthy appetite, manages, - in despite of all the strafing, to think quite a lot - about you, and hopes you will go on thinking - equally cheerily of him—your</p> - - <p class="right"> - "<i>Temporary Gentleman</i>." - </p> - - <hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">[Pg 67]</a></span></p> - <div class="chapter"> - - <h2 class="nobreak"><a name="THE_DUG-OUT" id="THE_DUG-OUT"></a>THE DUG-OUT</h2></div> - - <p>Here's an odd coincidence. The second sentence - in your letter that reached me last night (with - our rations of candles and coke) says: "Do - tell me just what a dug-out is like." You are - always asking me what something or other is - "like," which forces upon me the sad conclusion - that my letters are not in the least descriptive. - But, "Do not shoot the pianist: he is doing his - best," and if I had the pen of a readier writer you - may be sure I'd use it. Yet the odd thing is, with - regard to this particular command for information, - I have the pen of a readier writer. You - know Taffy Morgan—Billy—of our Company? - Well, it seems he's quite a bit of a writer, and - occasionally sends things home to his father who, - is trying to keep a consecutive narrative of the - doings of the Battalion. Now last night, within - an hour of getting your letter, I read a thing Taffy - showed me that he was sending home, all about - a Company Headquarters dug-out in the line:<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">[Pg 68]</a></span> - much more decent than my scribbles. So I've - asked him to let me copy some of it, and here it - is pat, in answer to your question:</p> - - <p>"'Dug-out' is the only word for it. I don't - know who did the christening, but it is, like so - many words and phrases adopted without question - by Tommy at the front, the one proper, exact, - and adequate name for the places we inhabit in - the trenches. The particular dug-out I have in - mind is a Company Headquarters, situated, like - a good many others, in a loop trench, perhaps - seventy to a hundred yards long, which curves - round at a distance of twenty or thirty yards in - rear of the fire-trench. The average depth of this - little back-water of a trench is, say, seven feet. - It was made by the French before we took over, - and is very wide at the top. It has no made parapet, - but is just a gaping ditch, its ragged, receding - top edges eight or ten feet apart, the lower part, - in which one walks, being two to three feet wide. - The bottom of this ditch is duck-walked: that is - to say, it has wooden gratings six feet long and - eighteen inches wide laid along it. Each length - of duck-walk is supported at either end by a - trestle driven deep down into the mud.</p> - - <p>"Here and there at a bend in the trench there<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">[Pg 69]</a></span> - will be a gap of several inches between duck-walks. - Again one finds a place where one or two slats - have been broken. These are cheerless pitfalls - on a dark night, in which it is easy to sink one leg - in mud or water over the knee. In places a duck-walk - has canted over by losing its bearings on the - trestle at one corner, giving the whole a treacherous - list to one side or the other, simple enough to - negotiate by day, but unpleasant for anyone hurrying - along at night. Still, the trench is 'ducked' - and, so far, luxurious, and a vast improvement on - the sort of trench (common over the way among - the Boches, I believe) in which men lose their - boots, and have to be dug out themselves.</p> - - <p>"It happens that my picture of this Company - Headquarters dug-out is a three o'clock in the - morning picture: moonless, and the deadest hour - of the night, when Brother Boche is pretty generally - silent, save for a mechanical sort of dropping - rifle fire: a fire which one knows somehow, - from its sound, means nothing, unless perhaps it - means a certain number of German sentries sleepily - proving to themselves that they are awake. In - the same desultory fashion, Boche, nearly two - hundred yards away across the wire entanglements - and the centre strip of No Man's Land,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">[Pg 70]</a></span> - sends up a flare of parachute light every few - minutes, which, for half a minute, fills our black - ditch with a queer, ghostly sort of radiance, making - its dank and jagged sides to gleam again, - and drawing curses from anyone feeling his way - along it, even as motor lights in a country lane - at home make a pedestrian curse on a dark night.</p> - - <p>"As one gropes along this ditch one comes to - narrow gaps here and there in the side farthest - from the enemy. These lead to all kinds of odd - necessary places: the homes of signallers, runners, - and others, refuse pits, bomb and trench stores, - and so on. Presently a thin streak of light shows - like a white string in the blackness. This is one - of the gaps, about four feet high and eighteen - inches wide. A dripping waterproof sheet hangs - as a curtain over this gap: the white string is the - light from within escaping down one side of the - sheet. Lift the sheet to one side, take two steps - down and forward—the sheet dripping on your - neck the while—and you are in the Company - Headquarters dug-out: a hole dug out of the back - of the ditch, its floor two feet below the level of - the duck-boards outside, its internal dimensions - ten feet by eight by six.</p> - - <p>"At the back of this little cave, facing you as<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">[Pg 71]</a></span> - you enter—and unless you go warily you are apt - to enter with a rush, landing on the earthen floor - in a sitting position, what with the wet slime on - your gum boots and the steps—are two bunks, - one above the other, each two feet wide and made - of wire netting stretched on rough stakes fastened - to stout poles and covered more or less by a few - empty sand-bags. One of these is the bunk of - the O.C. Company, used alternatively by one of - his subalterns. In the other, a Platoon Commander - lies now asleep, one gum-booted leg, - mud-caked well above the knee, dangling over - the front edge, a goatskin coat over his shoulders, - his cap jammed hard down over his eyes to shut - out the light of the candle which, stayed firmly - to the newspaper tablecloth by a small island of - its own grease, burns as cheerily as it can in this - rather draughty spot, sheltered a little from the - entrance by a screen consisting of a few tins half - full of condensed milk, butter, sugar, and the like. - The officer in the bunk is sleeping as though dead, - and the candle-light catching the mud-flecked - stubble on his chin suggests that his turn in the - trenches should be at least half over. Another - few days should bring him to billets and shaving - water."</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">[Pg 72]</a></span></p> - - <p>(Here, then, in addition to the description of a - dug-out, you have a portrait of your "Temporary - Gentleman," rather unmercifully touched in, I - thought!)</p> - - <p>"The table—say, 30 inches by 20 inches—was - made from a packing-case, and is perched on - rough stake legs against the earthen side of the - dug-out, with a shelf over it which was formerly - a case holding two jars of rum. On the shelf - are foodstuffs, Very lights, a couple of rockets, a - knobkerrie, a copy of <i>Punch</i>, a shortbread tin full - of candles, a map, an automatic pistol, and, most - curiously, a dust-encrusted French cookery-book, - which has taken on the qualities of an antique, - and become a kind of landlord's fixture among - 'trench stores' in the eyes of the ever-changing - succession of company commanders who have - 'taken over,' week in and week out, since the - French occupation in '14.</p> - - <p>"Hung about the sides of the dug-out are half-empty - canvas packs or valises, field-glasses, a - couple of periscopes, a Very pistol, two sticks caked - all over with dry mud, an oilskin coat or two similarly - varnished over with the all-pervading mud - of the trench, a steel helmet, a couple of pairs of - field boots and half a dozen pictures from illus<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">[Pg 73]</a></span>trated - papers, including one clever drawing of a - grinning cat, having under it the legend, 'Smile, - damn you!' The field boots are there, and not - in use, because the weather is of the prevalent sort, - wet, and the tenants of the place are living in - what the returns call 'boots, trench, gum, thigh.' - Overhead is stretched across the low roof tarred - felt. Above that are rough-hewn logs, then galvanised - iron and stones and earth: not shell-proof, - really, but bullet- and splinter-proof, and - for the most part weather-proof—at least as much - so as the average coat sold under that description.</p> - - <p>"The trench outside is very still just now, but - inside the dug-out there is plenty of movement. - All round about it, and above and below, the place - is honeycombed by rats—brown rats with whitish - bellies, big as young cats, heavy with good living; - blundering, happy-go-lucky, fearless brutes, who - do not bother to hunt the infinitely nimbler mice - who at this moment are delicately investigating - the tins of foodstuffs within a few inches of the - head of the O.C. Company. The rats are variously - occupied: as to a couple of them, matrons, - in opposite corners of the roof, very obviously - in suckling their young, who feed with awful zest; - as to half a dozen others, in courting, during which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">[Pg 74]</a></span> - process they keep up a curious kind of crooning, - chirruping song wearisome to human ears; and as - to the numerous remainder, in conducting a cross-country - steeplechase of sorts, to and fro and - round and round on the top side of the roofing - felt, which their heavy bodies cause to bulge - and sag till one fancies it must give way.</p> - - <p>"There is a rough rickety stool beside the table. - On this is seated the O.C. Company, his arms - outspread on the little ledge of a table, his head - on his arms, his face resting on the pages of an - open Army Book 153, in which, half an hour ago, - he wrote his morning situation report, in order - that his signallers might inform Battalion Headquarters, - nearly a mile away down the communication - trench to the rear, with sundry details, that - there was nothing doing beyond the normal intermittent - strafing of a quiet night. The O.C. Company - is asleep. A mouse is clearing its whiskers - of condensed milk within two inches of his left ear, - and the candle is guttering within two inches of - his cap-peak. During the past few days he has - had four or five such sleeps as this, half an hour - or so at a time, and no more, for there has been - work toward in the line, involving exposure for - men on the parapet and so forth, of a sort which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">[Pg 75]</a></span> - does not make for restfulness among O.C. - Companies.</p> - - <p>"There comes a quiet sound of footfalls on the - greasy duck-boards outside. Two mice on the - table sit bolt upright to listen. The cross-country - meeting overhead is temporarily suspended. The - O.C. Company's oilskin-covered shoulders twitch - nervously. The mother rats continue noisily - suckling their young, though one warily pokes its - sharp nose out over the edge of the felt, sniffing, - inquiringly. Then the waterproof sheet is drawn - aside, and the O.C. Company sits up with a jerk. - A signaller on whose leather jerkin the raindrops - glisten in the flickering candle-light thrusts head - and shoulders into the dug-out.</p> - - <p>"'Message from the Adjutant, sir!'</p> - - <p>"The O.C. reads the two-line message, initials - the top copy for return to the signaller, spikes the - carbon copy on a nail overhead, where many others - hang, glances at his wrist-watch, and says wearily:</p> - - <p>"'Well, what are the signallers strafing about, - anyhow? It's ten minutes before time now. - Here you are!'</p> - - <p>"He tears two written pages from the Army - message book which was his pillow, signs them, - and hands them up to the signaller.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">[Pg 76]</a></span></p> - - <p>"'Call the Sergeant-Major on your way back, - and tell him I've gone down to the sap-head. He - can bring the wiring party along right away. - It's nearly three o'clock. Send a runner to tell - the officer on duty I'm going out myself with this - party. You might just remind the Sergeant-Major - I want two stretcher-bearers at the sap-head. - Tell 'em to keep out of sight till the - others are out over the parapet. Right! - Messages will go to Mr. ——, of course, while - I'm out.'</p> - - <p>"Brother Boche may remain quiet. Three - o'clock is a good quiet time. And there is no - moon. But, Brother Boche being dead quiet - just now, may conceivably have patrols out there - in No Man's Land. They may carry valuable - information quickly to his line, and two or three - machine-guns may presently open up on the O.C. - Company and his wiring party, who, again, may - be exposed by means of flare lights from the other - side. One hopes not. Meanwhile, after a glance - round, the O.C. picks up his mud-caked leather - mitts, settles the revolver pouch on his belt, - blows out the guttering candle, feels his way out - past the dripping waterproof sheet into the black - trench, and leaves the dug-out to his sleeping<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">[Pg 77]</a></span> - brother officer (who was on deck from 10 to 1, - and will be out again an hour before dawn) and - the rats.</p> - - <p>"Theoretically, this O.C. Company may be - himself as much in need of sleep as anyone in the - trench. Actually, however, apart from his needs, - he is personally responsible for whatever may - happen in quite a long stretch of dark, mysterious - trench: of trench which in one moment may be - converted by the ingenious Boche into a raging - hell of paralysing gas and smoke, of lurid flame - and rending explosion. German officers seated - in artillery dug-outs a mile or so away across the - far side of No Man's Land may bring about that - transformation in one moment. They did it less - than a week ago, though, by reason of unceasing - watchfulness on this side, it availed them nothing. - They may be just about to do it now, and, unlike - the average of German O.C. Companies, our - officers never ask their men to face any kind of - danger which they themselves do not face with - them. And so, for this particular O.C. Company, - the interior of that queer little dug-out (where the - men's rum stands in jars under the lower bunk, - and letters from home are scanned, maps pored - over, and reports and returns made out) does not<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">[Pg 78]</a></span> - exactly bring unmixed repose. But the rats love - it."</p> - - <p>So there you are! By the judicious picking of - Taffy's brains I have been enabled to present you - with a much better picture of a dug-out than - my own unaided pen could give. Reading over, - there seems something melancholy and sombre - about it; I don't know why. It's a jolly little - dug-out, and Taffy's a thundering fine officer; - nothing in the least melancholy about him. - Then why—? Oh, well, I guess it's his Celtic - blood. Maybe he's got a temperament. I must - tell him so. By the way, that wiring job he mentions - came off all right; a nasty exposed place, - but "the Peacemaker" got his party through - without a single casualty, or, as the men always - say, "Casu<i>al</i>ity."</p> - - <p>Taffy writes a much better letter, doesn't he? - than your</p> - - <p class="right"> - "<i>Temporary Gentleman</i>." - </p> - - <hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">[Pg 79]</a></span></p> - <div class="chapter"> - - <h2 class="nobreak"><a name="A_BOMBING_SHOW" id="A_BOMBING_SHOW"></a>A BOMBING SHOW</h2></div> - - <p>Very many thanks for the parcel with the horse-hide - mitts and the torch refills, both of which will - be greatly appreciated. The mitts are the best - things of the kind I've seen for trench work, and - as for electric torches, I don't know what we - should do without them.</p> - - <p>I've come below for a sleep, really. Taffy Morgan - was very much off colour yesterday, and is - far from fit to-day. I had to take his duty as well - as my own last night, so came off pretty short in - the matter of rest. But I must stop to tell you - about the lark we had last night; the jolliest - thing that's happened since we came in, and no - end of a score for "A" Company. My batman - tells me "B" are mad as hatters about it.</p> - - <p>Our signalling officer happened to be along the - front yesterday afternoon with a brand-new - telescope that someone had sent the C.O., a very - fine instrument. Signals wasn't interested in - our bit of line, as it happens, but was dead nuts<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">[Pg 80]</a></span> - on some new Boche machine-gun emplacement or - other away on "B's" left. When he was coming - back through our line I got him to lend me the - new glass while he had some tea and wrote reports - in our dug-out. Perhaps you think there's not - much need of a telescope when the Boche line is - less than a couple of hundred yards away. Well, - now you'd hardly believe how difficult it is to make - things out. At this time of the year the whole of - this place is full of mist, for one thing. And then, - you see, the ground in front is studded all over - with barbed wire, stakes, long rank grass, things - thrown out: here and there an old log, and, here - and there, of course, a dead body. One has to - look along the ground level, since to look from a - higher level would mean exposure, and I can assure - you it's surprisingly easy to miss things. I've - wasted a good many rounds myself, firing at old - rags or bits of wood, or an old cape in the grass - among the Boche wire, feeling sure I'd got a - sniper. The ground is pretty much torn up, too, - you understand, by shells and stuff, and that - makes it more difficult.</p> - - <p>Well, I was looking out from a little sheltered - spot alongside the entrance to what we call Stinking - Sap. It has rather a rottener smell than<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">[Pg 81]</a></span> - most trenches, I think. And all of a sudden I - twigged something that waked me right up. It - was nothing much: just a shovel sticking up against - a little mound. But it led to other things. A - yard away from where this shovel lay the C.O.'s - fine glass enabled me to make out a gap in the wet, - misty grass. You may be sure I stared jolly - hard, and presently the whole thing became clear - to me. The Boches had run out a new sap to - fully sixty yards from their fire trench, which at - this particular point is rather far from ours: - over 250 yards, I suppose. It was right opposite - our own Stinking Sap, and I suppose the head of - it was not more than 100 yards from the head of - Stinking Sap. There was no Boche working there - then; not a sign of any movement. I made sure - of that. Then I got my compass and trench map, - and took a very careful bearing. And then I - toddled round to Company Headquarters and got - hold of "the Peacemaker," without letting Signals - know anything about it. If the O.C. liked to - let Battalion Headquarters know, that was his - business.</p> - - <p>Of course, "the Peacemaker" was delighted. - "It's perfectly clear they must have cut it last - night," he said. "And as sure as God made little<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">[Pg 82]</a></span> - apples, they'll be going on with it to-night. Let's - see, the moon rises about 9.45. Splendid! They'll - get to work as soon as it's dark."</p> - - <p>He was awfully decent about it, and agreed to - let me go, since I'd had the luck to spot it. As a - matter of fact, he did the more important spotting - himself. He twigged what I'd overlooked: a - whacking big shell-hole, shallow but wide, about - fifteen or twenty feet to one side of their sap-head; - an absolutely ideal spot for cover, and no more - than a hundred yards from the head of Stinking - Sap. I decided to take Corporal Slade with me, - because he's such a fine bomber, besides being as - cool as a cucumber and an all-round good chap. - You remember he was with me that time in Master - Boche's trench. Somehow, the thing got round - before tea-time, and the competition among the - men was something awful. When Slade gave it - out that I was taking all the men I wanted from - No. 1 Platoon, there was actually a fight between - one of my lot and a fellow named Ramsay, of - No. 3 Platoon; a draper, I'll trouble you, and a - pillar of his chapel at home. Then a deputation - of the other Platoon Sergeants waited on "the - Peacemaker," and in the end, to save bloodshed, - I agreed to take Corporal Slade and one man<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">[Pg 83]</a></span> - from my own Platoon, and one man from each of - the other three Platoons. To call for volunteers - for work over the parapet with our lot is perfectly - hopeless. You must detail your men, or the whole - blessed Company would swarm out over the sticks - every time, especially if there's the slightest hint - of raiding or bombing.</p> - - <p>"The Peacemaker's" idea was that we must - reach that shell-hole from the end of Stinking - Sap, if possible, before the Boche started work in - his new sap, because once he started he'd be sure - to have a particularly sharp look-out kept, and - might very well have a covering party outside as - well. Before it was dark my fellows were champing - their bits in Stinking Sap, fretting to be off. - If one gave the beggars half a chance they'd be - out in the open in broad daylight. But, of course, - I kept 'em back. There was no reason why - Boche should be in a violent hurry to start work, - and I was most anxious he shouldn't suspect that - we suspected anything.</p> - - <p>As it turned out, we were all lying in that shell-hole - close to his new sap for three-quarters of an - hour before a single Boche made a move. There - was a fine rain all the time, and it was pitch dark. - The only thing we didn't like was the fact that<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">[Pg 84]</a></span> - all the flares and parachute lights ever made seemed - to be being sent up from the Boche line, right - alongside this new sap. However, we lay perfectly - still and flat, hands covered and faces down, - and as long as you do that all the flares in the - world won't give you away much, in ground as - full of oddments and unevenness as that is.</p> - - <p>By and by Slade gave a little tug at my jerkin. - I listened hard, and just made out footsteps, - probably in the Boche fire trench itself, near the - entrance to their new sap. Two or three minutes - later we began really to enjoy ourselves. As far - as we could make out Fritz hadn't a notion that - we were on to his game. Six or eight of 'em came - shuffling along the sap, carrying picks and shovels, - and jabbering and growling away nineteen to the - dozen. We could hear every sound. One fellow, - anyhow, was smoking. We got the whiff of - that. We could hear 'em spit, and, very nearly, - we could hear them breathe. I did wish I knew - a little more German than "Donnerwetter" and - "Sprechen Sie Deutsch?"</p> - - <p>I could feel the man on my left (the draper from - No. 3) quivering like a coursing greyhound in a - leash, and had to whisper to him to wait for the - word. But Corporal Slade on my right might<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">[Pg 85]</a></span> - have been on the barrack square. I saw him use - a match to pick his teeth while he listened. I'd - rehearsed my fellows letter perfect in our own - trench before we started, and when the Boches - were fairly under way digging, I gave the signal - with my left hand. There was a bomb in my - right. Waiting for it as I was, I could distinctly - hear the safety-pins come out of our six bombs, and - could even hear the breathed murmur of the pugnacious - draper at my shoulder:</p> - - <p>"A hundred an' one, a hundred an' two, a - hundred an' three!" (He was timing the fuse of - his bomb, exactly as I'd told 'em.)</p> - - <p>And then we tore a big hole in the night. Our - six bombs landed, one on the edge and the other - five plumb in the sap-head before us, right in the - middle of the six or eight Boches digging there. - Two seconds after they left our hands they did - their job. It was less than two seconds really. - And when the rending row was done we heard - only one Boche moaning, so I knew that at least - six or seven were "gone West" for keeps, and - would strafe no more Englishmen.</p> - - <p>Now the idea had been that directly our job was - done we should bolt for the head of Stinking Sap. - But, while we'd been lying there, it had occurred<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">[Pg 86]</a></span> - to me that the Boches, knowing all about what - distance bombs could be thrown, and that we - must be lying in the open near their sap-head, - ought to be able to sweep that ground with machine-gun - fire before we could get to Stinking Sap, and - that, having done that, they would surely send a - whole lot more men down their new sap, to tackle - what was left of us that way. Therefore I'd made - each of my fellows carry four bombs in his pockets: - twenty-four among the lot of us. And we'd only - used six. Quite enough, too, for the Boches in - that sap. Therefore, again, we now lay absolutely - still, and just as close as wax, while Fritz - rained parachute lights, stars, flares, and every - kind of firework in the sky, and, just as I had - fancied, swept his sap-head with at least a thousand - rounds of machine-gun bullets, not one of - which so much as grazed us, where we lay spread-eagled - in the mud of that shell-hole.</p> - - <p>And then—dead silence.</p> - - <p>"Get your bombs ready, lads," I told my fellows. - In another few seconds we heard the - Boches streaming along their narrow new sap. - They took it for granted we had cleared back to - our line, and they made no attempt to disguise - their coming. In fact, from the rate at which<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">[Pg 87]</a></span> - they rushed along that narrow ditch I could almost - swear that some came without rifles or anything. - We waited till the near end of the sap was - full, and then: "A hundred and one," etc. We - gave 'em our second volley, and immediately on - top of it our third. It must have been a regular - shambles. Slade and I, by previous arrangement, - lobbed ours over as far as ever we could to the left, - landing quite near the beginning of the sap, and - so getting the Boches who were only just leaving - their own fire trench. Then I laid my hand on - the draper to prevent his throwing, and Slade and - the other three gave their last volley, and bolted - full pelt for Stinking Sap.</p> - - <p>There was no bucking at all in the part of the - sap near us. The Boches there wouldn't trouble - anyone any more, I fancy. But a few seconds - after Slade disappeared, we heard a fresh lot - start on their way down the sap from their fire - trench. We gave 'em up to about "A hundred - and three" and a half, and then we let 'em have - our last two bombs, well to the left, and ourselves - made tracks like greased lightning for Stinking - Sap. The luck held perfectly, and Slade was - hauling the draper in over the parapet of Stinking - Sap before a sound came from the Boches' machine<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">[Pg 88]</a></span>-guns. - And then, by Gad! they opened on us. - They holed my oilskin coat for me, as I slid in - after Ramsay, and spoiled it. I've jotted it - down against 'em and in due course they shall pay. - But not one of my crowd got a scratch, and we - reckon to have accounted for at the very least - twenty Boches, maybe double that—a most - splendid lark.</p> - - <p>What makes "B" Company rather mad is that, - strictly speaking, this new Boche sap is a shade - nearer their line than ours. The C.O. came up - to look at it this morning, on the strength of - our O.C.'s morning situation report, and was - most awfully nice to me about it. He said we did - well to wait for the Boches' coming down from - their line after our first scoop, and that plans must - be made to fit circumstances, and not held to be - ends in themselves, and all that kind of thing—initiative, - you know, and so on—very nice indeed - he was. And the best of it is our artillery has - registered on that sap this morning, and this - afternoon is just about going to blow it across the - Rhine. So altogether "A" Company is feeling - pretty good, if you please, and has its tail well - up. So has your</p> - - <p class="right"> - "<i>Temporary Gentleman</i>." - </p> - - <hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">[Pg 89]</a></span></p> - <div class="chapter"> - - <h2 class="nobreak"><a name="OVER_THE_PARAPET" id="OVER_THE_PARAPET"></a>OVER THE PARAPET</h2> -</div> - - <p>We are back again in billets, but so close to the - line this time that it's more like being in support - trenches. That is to say, one hears all the firing, - and knows just what is happening in the line all - the time. Also, we do carrying fatigues in the - trenches at night. Still, it's billets, and not bad. - One can get a bath, and one can sleep dry. I - must tell you about billets sometime. At the - moment the letter from you lying in front of me - contains clear orders. I am to tell you what - patrolling is—quite a big order.</p> - - <p>Well, there are many different kinds of patrols, - you know, but so far as we are concerned, here in - trenches, they boil down to two sorts: observation - patrols and fighting patrols, such as bombing - and raiding parties. It's all night work, of course, - since one cannot do anything over the parapet - by day without getting shot; anything, that is, - except a regular attack preceded by bombardment - of the Boche lines. On the whole, I think it's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">[Pg 90]</a></span> - about the most interesting part of our work, and - I think it's safe to say it's a part in which our - fellows can run rings round the Boches. In - masses (well primed with rum; ether and oxygen, - too, they say) the Boche can do great things. He - will advance, as it were blindly, in the face of any - kind of fire you like; even the kind that accounts - for sixty or seventy per cent. of him in a hundred - yards. But when he comes to act as an individual, - or in little groups, as in patrolling—well, we don't - think much of him. We think our worst is better - than his best in all that sort of work. I'm - perfectly certain that, man for man, the British - and French troops are more formidable, harder - to beat, better men all round, than the Boche.</p> - - <p>The first kind of patrol I mentioned—observation—is - part and parcel of our everyday routine - in the firing line. This kind goes out every night, - and often several times during the night, from - every Company. Its main objective is observation: - to get any information it can about the - doings of the Hun, and to guard our line against - surprise moves of any sort. But, though that's - its main object, it does not go unarmed, of course, - and, naturally, will not refuse a scrap if the chance - comes. But it differs from a bombing or raiding<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">[Pg 91]</a></span> - patrol in that it does not go out for the purpose of - fighting, and as a rule is not strong, numerically; - usually not more than about half a dozen in the - party. In some Companies observation patrols - are often sent out under a good N.C.O. and no - officer. We make a point of sending an officer - always; not that we can't trust our N.C.O.'s; - they're all right; but we talked it over, and decided - we would rather one of us always went. - As I said, it's interesting work, and work with - possibilities of distinction in it, and we're all pretty - keen on it. Every Company in the Battalion is. - (Boche patrols, one gathers, hardly ever include - an officer.)</p> - - <p>With us, it is decided during the afternoon just - what we are going to do that night in the patrol - line, and the officer whose turn it is chooses his - own men and N.C.O.'s. And within limits, you - know, "the Peacemaker" lets us work out our - own plans pretty much as we like, providing there's - no special thing he wants done. It often happens, - you see, that during daylight the sentries or the - officer on duty have been able to make out with - glasses some signs of work being done at night - by the Boche, in his front line, or in a sap or a - communication trench. Then that night it will<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">[Pg 92]</a></span> - be the job of the patrols to investigate that part - of the opposite line very carefully. Perhaps half - a dozen Boches will be found working somewhere - where our patrol can wipe 'em out by lobbing a - few bombs among 'em. That's a bit of real jam - for the patrol. Or, again, they may observe - something quite big: fifty to a hundred Boches - carrying material and building an emplacement, - or something of that kind. Then it will be worth - while to get back quickly, having got an exact - bearing on the spot, and warn the O.C. Company. - He may choose to turn a couple of machine-guns - loose suddenly on that spot, or he may find it - better to telephone to Battalion Headquarters - and let them know about it, so that, if they like, - they can get our "heavies" turned on, and liven - the Boche job up with a good shower of H.E., - to smash the work, after a few rounds of shrap. - to lay out the workers.</p> - - <p>Then, again, if you all keep your eyes jolly - well skinned, there's a sporting chance of getting - another kind of luck. You may spot a Boche - patrol while you're crawling about in No Man's - Land. "B" Company had the luck to do that - three nights ago, and our fellows are so envious - now they all want to be patrolling at once; it's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">[Pg 93]</a></span> - as much as one can do to keep them in the trench. - They're simply aching to catch a Boche patrol - out, and put the wind up "B." You see "B" - lost two out of a Boche patrol of six; killing three - and taking one prisoner. "A" can't say anything - about it, of course, because we've not had the - luck yet to see a Boche patrol. But God help its - members when we do, for I assure you our fellows - would rather die half a dozen times over than fail - to wipe "B's" eye. It's the way they happen to - be built. They don't wish the Boche any particular - harm, but if they can get within sight of a - Boche patrol, that patrol has just got to be scuppered - without any possible chance of a couple - getting clear. The performance of "B" has just - got to be beaten, and soon.</p> - - <p>Honestly, it isn't easy to hold these chaps back. - The observation patrol I was out with the night - before we came out of the trenches really needed - holding. There were no Boche patrols for them - to scupper, and just to humour the beggars I kept - 'em out nearly an hour longer than I had any right - to; and then, if you'll believe me, they were so - disappointed at having to head back with nothing - in the bag, so to say, that the Corporal was deputed - to beg my permission for a little raid on the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">[Pg 94]</a></span> - Huns' front trench. And there were just five of - us, all told; our only weapons knobkerries and - two bombs each, and my revolver and dagger.</p> - - <p>By the way, the survivor of the Hun patrol that - "B" rounded up was not the first prisoner taken - by the Battalion. No; we had that honour nearly - a week ago. A queer episode that, on our second - night in. There was a bit of line on our extreme - right which was neither for use nor ornament; a - horrible place. It had been all blown in by trench - mortars and oil-cans, and hardly had a strand of - unbroken wire in front of it. (You may be sure - it's in different shape now. We worked at it for - two nights in succession, and made a good job - of it.) Well, it was so bad for fifty yards or so - that sentries could not occupy it properly; no - fire-step left, and no cover worth speaking of. - Taffy Morgan was nosing about in front of this - bit just after dark, out beyond where the wire had - been, marking places for new entanglements, - when he spotted a big Boche patrol making slowly - up that way from their front. They were fifteen - or twenty strong.</p> - - <p>Taffy lay very low, and crawled back into our - line without being seen. Then he raced down the - trench for his pet machine-gun—a Lewis, you know<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span>—and - got it along there with a Corporal and a - couple of machine-gunners in rather less than no - time. By then the messenger he had sent off - had got back with "the Peacemaker" and myself - and the Sergeant-Major. We all kept as quiet - as mice till we were able to make out the movement - of the Boche patrol. We let them get fairly - close—thirty or forty yards—and then let blaze - at 'em, firing just as low as we could.</p> - - <p>I suppose we gave 'em about four hundred - rounds. We heard a bit of moaning after "the - Peacemaker" gave the word to cease fire, and then, - to our amazement, a Hun talking, apparently to - another Boche, telling him to come on, and calling - him some kind of a bad hat. I tell you, it - was queer to listen to. The Boche who was doing - the talking appeared to have worked a good bit - down to the left of the bunch we had fired at, - and had evidently got into our wire. We could - hear him floundering among the tin cans.</p> - - <p>"Don't fire," said "the Peacemaker." "We'll - maybe get this chap alive." And, sure enough, - the Boche began singing out to us now, asking - first of all whether we were Prussian, and then - trying a few phrases in French, including a continuously - repeated: "Je suis fatigué!"</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">[Pg 96]</a></span></p> - - <p>Most extraordinary it was. "The Peacemaker" - couldn't tell him we were Prussian, but he kept - inviting the fellow to come in, and telling him we - wouldn't hurt him. Finally I took a man out - and lugged the chap in out of the wire myself. - We got tired of his floundering, and I guess he - must have been tired of it too, for he was pretty - badly cut by it. He had no rifle; nothing but a - dagger; and the moment I got him into our trench - he began catting all over the place; most deadly - sick he was.</p> - - <p>We led him off down the trench to the S.M.'s - dug-out and gave him a drink of tea, and washed - the wire cuts on his face and hands. He was a - poor starveling-looking kind of a chap; a bank - clerk from Heidelberg, as it turned out afterwards, - and a Corporal. He told us he'd had nothing - but rum, but we thought him under the influence - of some drug; some more potent form of Dutch - courage, such as the Huns use before leaving - their trenches. Our M.O. told us afterwards he - was very poorly nourished. We blindfolded him - and took him down to Battalion Headquarters, - and from there he would be sent on to the Brigade. - We never knew if they got any useful information - out of him; but he was the Battalion's first<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">[Pg 97]</a></span> - prisoner. The other Boches we got in that night - were dead. That burst of M.G. fire had laid them - out pretty thoroughly, nine of 'em; and a small - patrol we kept out there wounded three or four - more who came much later—I suppose to look - for their own wounded.</p> - - <p>There's a creepy kind of excitement about - patrol work which makes it fascinating. If there's - any light at all, you never know who's drawing - a bead on you. If there's no light, you never - know what you're going to bump into at the next - step. It's very largely hands-and-knees' work, - and our chaps just revel in it. My first, as you - know, landed me in the Boche trenches; and - that's by no means a very uncommon thing either, - though it ought never to happen if you have a - good luminous-faced compass and the sense to - refer to it often enough. My second patrol was - a bit more successful. I'll tell you about that - next time. Meanwhile, I hope what I've said - will make you fancy you know roughly what - patrol work is, though, to be sure, I feel I haven't - given you the real thing the way Taffy could if - he set out to write about it. He could write it - almost better perhaps than he could do it. He's - a wee bit too jerky and impulsive, too much strung<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">[Pg 98]</a></span> - up rather, for patrol work. My thick-headed - sort of plodding is all right on patrol; suits the - men first-rate. I suppose it kind of checks the - excitement and keeps it within bounds. But you - mark my words, our fellows will get a Boche patrol - before long, and when they do I'll wager they - won't lose any of 'em.</p> - - <p>We're going to play a team of "B" Company at - football to-morrow afternoon, if the Boche - doesn't happen to be running an artillery strafe. - We play alongside the cemetery, and for some - unknown reason the Boche gunners seem to be - everlastingly ranging on it, as though they wanted - to keep our dead from resting. We're all as fit - and jolly as can be, especially your</p> - - <p class="right"> - "<i>Temporary Gentleman</i>." - </p> - - <hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">[Pg 99]</a></span></p> - <div class="chapter"> - - <h2 class="nobreak"><a name="THE_NIGHT_PATROL" id="THE_NIGHT_PATROL"></a>THE NIGHT PATROL</h2></div> - - <p>Here in billets the amount of letter-writing - the men do is something appalling—for the officers - who have to censor their letters. As you know, - our training in England included some time in - four different parts of the country, and our fellows - have sweethearts in each place. And they - seem to get parcels from most of 'em, too. Then - there are the home letters. They all describe - their writers as being "in the pink," and getting - on "champion," as, I believe, I told you before.</p> - - <p>My billet—or, rather, our billet, for all "A" - Company officers are under the one roof here—is - in the church house, and there's a candlestick - three feet high in the bedroom I share with Taffy. - There's no glass in the windows, and the roof at - one end has had a shell through it, and so the - room gets a bit swampy. Otherwise, the place is - all right. Our own batteries near by shake it up - at times, and the shell-holes, in the road outside - show it's had some very narrow squeaks; but<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">[Pg 100]</a></span> - neither it nor the church has suffered very much, - though they stand well up on a hill, less than half - a mile from our support line of trenches, which - the Battalion billeted here mans in event of alarm—gas - attack, you know, or anything of that sort. - So while we're here we sleep fully equipped at - night. But in our next week out, at the village - farther back, we are more luxurious, and undress - of a night.</p> - - <p>But I promised to tell you about that second - patrol of mine. We were greatly interested in - some kind of an erection we could see just behind - the Boche front line on our left. All we could - see was sand-bags; but, somehow, it looked too - big and massive for a mere machine-gun emplacement, - and we were all most anxious to find out - what it could be. So "the Peacemaker" agreed - that I should take a patrol that night and try to - investigate. This was the first patrol we sent out - as a Company in the line on our own. My first - was when we were in with another Company for - instruction, you know, and they apparently had - not noticed this sand-bag structure. At all - events, they made no report to "the Peacemaker" - about it when we took over.</p> - - <p>The moon was not due to rise till about eleven<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">[Pg 101]</a></span> - that night, so I decided to go out at nine. The - Company Sergeant-Major asked if he could come, - so I arranged to take him and one Platoon scout - from each Platoon. They had none of them been - out as yet, and we wanted them to have practice. - Getting out into No Man's Land marks a distinct - epoch in a man's training for trench warfare, you - know. If it happens that he has some considerable - time in trenches without ever going over the - parapet, he's apt to be jumpy when he does get - out. I fancy that must be one reason why the - Boches make such a poor show in the matter of - individual effort of an aggressive sort. They're - so trench-bound that their men seem no use out - of trenches, except in massed formation.</p> - - <p>Don't make any mistake about it; there's - some excuse for a man being jumpy over the - parapet when he's never had a chance of getting - accustomed to it. That's why I think our O.C. - is very wise in the way he tries to give all the men - a turn at work over the parapet, wiring, patrolling, - improving saps, and what not: because it's a - pretty eerie business until you get used to it. - Behind our line you have graves and crosses, and - comparatively friendly things of all kinds—rubbish, - you know, and oddments discarded by fellow<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">[Pg 102]</a></span> - humans no longer ago than a matter of hours. - But out in No Man's Land, of course, the dominant - factor is the swift, death-dealing bullet, - and the endless mass of barbed-wire entanglements - which divides Boches from Britons and - Frenchmen for so many hundreds of miles. There - are plenty of dead things out there, but, barring - the rats, when you get any other movement in - No Man's Land you may reckon it's enemy - movement: creeping men with bombs and daggers, - who may have been stalking you or may not have - seen you. But it wouldn't do to reckon much - on anyone's not having seen you, because if - there's one place in the world in which every - man's ears and eyes are apt to be jolly well open - it's out there in the slimy darkness of No Man's - Land.</p> - - <p>You may very well chance to stick your hand - in the upturned face of a far-gone corpse, as I - did my first time out; but if you do so you - mustn't shiver—far less grunt—because shivering - may make your oilskin coat or something else - rustle, and draw fire on you and your party. So - a man needs to have his wits about him when he's - over the parapet, and the cooler he keeps and the - more deliberate are his movements the better for<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">[Pg 103]</a></span> - all concerned. One needn't loaf, but, on the - other hand, it's rather fatal to hurry, and quite - fatal to flurry, especially when you're crawling - among wire with loose strands of it and "giant - gooseberries" of the prickly stuff lying round in - all directions on the ground to catch your hands - and knees and hold you up. If you lose your - head or do anything to attract attention, your - number's pretty well up. But, on the other - hand, if you keep perfectly cool and steady, making - no sound whatever happens, and lying perfectly - flat and still while Boche flares are up or - their machine-guns are trying to locate you, it's - surprising how very difficult it is for the Hun to - get you, and what an excellent chance you have - of returning to your own line with a whole skin.</p> - - <p>I had an exact compass bearing on the spot we - wanted to investigate, taken from the sap on our - left from which we were starting. "The Peacemaker" - ran his own hands over the men of the - party before we climbed out, to make sure everyone - had remembered to leave all papers and things - of that sort behind. (One goes pretty well stripped - for these jobs, to avoid anything useful falling - perchance into Boche hands.) We each carried - a couple of bombs, the men had knobkerries, and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">[Pg 104]</a></span> - I had revolver and dagger, to be on the safe side. - But we were out for information, not scrapping.</p> - - <p>It was beautifully dark, and, starting from a - sap-head, clear of our own wire, we crossed the - open very quickly, hardly so much as stooping, - till we were close to the Boche wire, when a - burst of machine-gun fire from them sent us to - ground. The Companies on each flank in our - line had been warned we were out. This is - always done to prevent our own men firing at - us. Such little fire as was coming from our - line was high, and destined for the Boche - support lines and communications; nothing to - hurt us.</p> - - <p>Now, when we began crawling through the - Boche wire I made the sort of mistake one does - make until experience teaches. I occupied myself - far too much with what was under my nose, and - too little with what lay ahead—and too little - with my compass. To be sure, there's a good deal - in the Boche wire which rather forces itself upon - the attention of a man creeping through it on - hands and knees. The gooseberries and loose - strands are the devil. Still, it is essential to keep - an eye on the compass, and to look ahead, as well - as on the ground under one's nose, lest you over-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">[Pg 105]</a></span>shoot - your mark or drop off diagonally to one side - or the other of it. I know a good deal better now. - But one has no business to make even one mistake, - if one's a "Temporary Officer and Gentleman," - because one's men have been taught to - follow and trust one absolutely, and it's hardly - ever only one's own safety that's at stake.</p> - - <p>Suddenly I ran my face against the side of - a "giant gooseberry" with peculiarly virulent - prongs, and in that moment a bullet whizzed low - over my head, and—here's the point—the bolt - of the rifle from which that bullet came was pulled - back and jammed home for the next shot—as it - seemed right in my ear. We all lay perfectly flat - and still. I could feel the Sergeant-Major's - elbow just touching my left hip. Very slowly - and quietly I raised my head enough to look round - the side of that "giant gooseberry," and instinct - made me look over my right shoulder.</p> - - <p>We were less than ten paces from the Boche - parapet. The great, jagged black parados, like - a mountain range on a theatre drop scene, hung - right over my shoulder against a sky which seemed - now to have a most deadly amount of light in it. - I was lying almost in a line with it, instead of at - right angles to it. Just then, the sentry who had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">[Pg 106]</a></span> - fired gave a little cough to clear his throat. It - seemed he was actually with us. Then he fired - again. I wondered if he had a bead on the back - of my head. He was not directly opposite us, - but a dozen paces or so along the line.</p> - - <p>Now, by the queer twisty feeling that went - down my spine when my eyes first lighted on that - grim black line of parados just over my shoulder, - I guessed how my men might be feeling. "Little - blame to them if they show some panic," thinks - I. I turned my face left, so as to look down - at the Sergeant-Major's over my left shoulder. - He'd seen that towering parados against the sky, - and heard that sentry's cough and the jamming - home of his rifle bolt. By twisting my head I - brought my face close to the S.M.'s, and could - see that he fancied himself looking right into his - own end. I had to think quick. I know that - man's mind like the palm of my hand, and I - now know his splendid type: the English ex-N.C.O. - of Marines, with later service in the Metropolitan - Police—a magnificent blend. I also know the - wonderful strength of his influence over the men, - to whom he is experienced military professionalism, - expertness incarnate. At present he felt we - had come upon disaster.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">[Pg 107]</a></span></p> - - <p>"My Gawd, sir!" he breathed at me. "Why, - we're on top of 'em!"</p> - - <p>That was where I thought quick, and did a - broad grin as I whispered to him: "Pretty good - for a start—a damn fine place, Sergeant-Major. - But we'll manage to get a bit nearer before we - leave 'em, won't we?"</p> - - <p>It worked like a charm, and I thanked God for - the fine type he represents. It was as though his - mind was all lighted up, and I could see the thoughts - at work in it. "Oh, come! so it's all right, after - all. My officer's quite pleased. He knew all - about it and it's just what he wanted; so that's - all right." These were the thoughts. And from - that moment the S.M. began to regard the whole - thing as a rather creditable lark, though the pit - of his stomach had felt queer, as well it might, for - a moment. And the wonderful thing was—there - must be something in telepathy, you know—that - this change seemed to communicate itself - almost instantly to the men—bless their simple - souls!—crouched round about behind. I'd no - time to think of the grimness of it, after that. A - kind of heat seemed to spread all over me from - inside, and I had been cold. I think a mother - must feel like that when danger threatens her<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">[Pg 108]</a></span> - kiddies. The thought in my mind was: "I've - brought these fellows here in carelessness. I'll - get 'em back with whole skins or I'll die at it."</p> - - <p>I never had any Hymn of Hate feeling in my - life, but I think I'd have torn half a dozen Boches - in pieces with my hands before I'd have let 'em - get at any of those chaps of mine that night.</p> - - <p>Now I was free; I knew the men were all right. - I whispered to the S.M., and very slowly and - silently we began to back away from that grim - parados. The sentry must have been half asleep, - I fancy. My compass showed me we must be - forty or fifty yards left of the point in the Boche - line we wanted; so as soon as we were far enough - back we worked slowly up right, and then a bit - in again. And then we found all we'd hoped for. - It was a regular redoubt the Boche was building, - and he had nearly a hundred men at work, including - the long string we saw carrying planks - and posts. Some were just sitting round smoking. - We could hear every word spoken, almost every - breath. And we could see there were sixty or - seventy men immediately round the redoubt.</p> - - <p>That was good enough for me. All I wanted - now was to get my men back safely. I knew - "the Peacemaker" had two machine-guns trained<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">[Pg 109]</a></span> - precisely on the redoubt. All I wanted was to - make sure their fire was all a shade to the left, - and every bullet would tell. We should be firing - fairly into the brown of 'em; because the little - cross communication trench which we had watched - them working in was no more than waist-deep; - just a short-cut for convenience in night work - only. We had 'em absolutely cold. The S.M. - told me the men wanted to bomb 'em from where - we were. But that was not my game at all.</p> - - <p>With the compass bearing I had, getting back - was simple. I saw the last man into our sap, and - found the O.C. waiting there for me. I'd no - sooner given him my news than he was at the - guns. We had twenty or thirty rifles levelled on - the same mark, too, and, at "the Peacemaker's" - signal, they all spoke at once. Gad! it was fine - to see the fire spouting from the M.G.'s mouth, - and to know how its thunder must be telling.</p> - - <p>Four belts we gave 'em altogether, and then - whipped the guns down into cover, just as the - Boche machine-guns began to answer from all - along their line. It was a "great do," as the - S.M. said. The men were wildly delighted. - They had seen the target; lain and watched it, - under orders not to make a sound. And now<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">[Pg 110]</a></span> - the pressure was off. Listening now, the Boche - guns having ceased fire, our sentries could plainly - hear groaning and moaning opposite, and see the - lights reflected on the Boche parados moving to - and fro as their stretcher-bearers went about - their work. A "great do," indeed. And so - says your</p> - - <p class="right"> - "<i>Temporary Gentleman</i>." - </p> - - <hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">[Pg 111]</a></span></p> - <div class="chapter"> - - <h2 class="nobreak"><a name="IN_BILLETS" id="IN_BILLETS"></a>IN BILLETS</h2></div> - - <p>You have asked me once or twice about billets, - and I ought to have told you more about them - before; only there seems such a lot to pick and - choose from that when I do sit down to write I - seldom get on to the particular story I mean to - tell.</p> - - <p>And that reminds me, I didn't tell you of the - odd thing that happened the night we came out - into billets this time. The Boche had finished - his customary evening Hymn of Hate, or we - thought he had, and while the men were filing - into their different billets the C.S.M. proceeded - to post our Company guard outside Company - Headquarters. He had just given the sentry - his instructions and turned away, when Boche - broke out in a fresh place—their battery commander's - evening sauerkraut had disagreed with - him, or something—and half a dozen shells came - whistling over the village in quick succession. - One landed in the roadway, a yard and a half<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">[Pg 112]</a></span> - in front of the newly-posted sentry. Had it been - a sound shell, it would have "sent him West"; - but it proved a dud, and merely dug itself a neat - hole in the macadam and lay there like a little - man, having first sent a spray of mud and a few - bits of flint spurting over our sentry and rattling - against his box.</p> - - <p>Now that sentry happened to be our friend - Tommy Dodd; and Tommy was about tired out. - He'd been on a wiring party over the parapet - three parts of the night, taken his turn of sentry-go - in the other part; and all day long had been - digging and mud-scooping, like the little hero he - is, to finish repairing an impassable bit of trench - that master Boche had blown in the evening before, - to make it safe before we handed over to the - Company relieving. He was literally caked in - clay from head to foot; eyebrows, moustache, - and all; he hadn't a dry stitch on him, and, of - course, had not had his supper. It was an oversight - that he should have been detailed for first - sentry-go on our arrival in billets. I had noticed - him marching up from the trenches; he could - hardly drag one foot after another. What do - you think the shell landing at his feet and - showering mud on him extorted from weary<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">[Pg 113]</a></span> - Tommy Dodd? I was standing alongside at the - time.</p> - - <p>"'Ere, not so much of it, Mister Boche! You - take it from me an' be a bit more careful like. - Silly blighter! Wotjer playin' at? Didn't yer - know I was on sentry? Chuckin' yer silly shells - about like that! If yer ain't more careful you'll - be dirty'n me nice clean uniform nex', an' gettin' - me paraded over for bein' dirty on sentry-go!"</p> - - <p>It's a pretty good spirit, isn't it? And I can - assure you it runs right through; warranted fast - colour; and as for standing the wash—well, - Tommy Dodd had been up to his middle in muddy - water most of the day. The Kaiser may have a - pretty big military organisation, but, believe me, - Germany and Austria together don't contain - anything strong enough to dull, let alone break - the spirit of the men of the New Army. The - Army's new enough; but the tradition and the - spirit are from the same old bin. It isn't altered; - and there's nothing better; not anywhere in the - world.</p> - - <p>And I'm supposed to be telling you about billets!</p> - - <p>Well, I told you before, how we took over from - another Company; and the same holds good of - how the other Company takes over from us in the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">[Pg 114]</a></span> - trenches; and when it's over our fellows file out - down the long communication trench, by platoons, - with a goodish interval between men, so as to - minimise the effect of chance bullets and shells; - every man carrying all his own mud-caked goods - and chattels, and all in good spirits at the prospects - of a little change. Nothing Tommy welcomes so - much as change—unless it's the chance of a - scrap.</p> - - <p>We cannot very well form up and march properly - directly we get out of trenches at Ambulance - Corner, because Fritz is so fond of directing his - field-gun practice there; so we rather straggle over - the next quarter of a mile, by platoons, till we - come to the little river. It's a jolly little stream, - with a regular mill-race of a current, and a nice - clear shallow reach close to the bridge, with clean - grass alongside. We wade right in and wash - boots. Everyone is wearing "boots, trench, gum, - thigh," so he just steps into the river and washes - the mud off. Then he gets back to the bank, and - off with the gum-boots and on with the ordinary - marching boots, which have been carried slung - round the neck by their laces. The trench boots, - clean and shiny now, are handed into store at - Brigade Headquarters, ready for our next turn<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">[Pg 115]</a></span> - in, for anyone else who wants 'em. In store, - they are hung up to dry, you know, for, though - no wet from outside will ever leak into these - boots (unless they're cut), yet, being water-and - air-tight, they get pretty wet inside after a week's - turn in trenches, from condensation and the - moisture of one's own limbs which has no chance - of evaporation. It's the same with the much-vaunted - trench-coats, of course; a few hours' - wear makes 'em pretty damp inside.</p> - - <p>After handing in the boots, we form up properly - for marching into the village. Our Company - Quartermaster-Sergeant, with a N.C.O. from each - platoon, has been ahead a few hours before us, - to take over billets from the Q.M.S. of the Company - that relieved us; and so each platoon has a - guide to meet it, just as in taking over a line of - trenches. Either in or close to every billet, there - are cellars marked up outside for so many men. - These are our bolt-holes, to which every man is - instructed to run and take shelter the instant a - bombardment begins. "Abri 50 hommes"; or - "Cellar for 30 men"; these are the legends you - see daubed outside the cellars. And chalked on - the gates of the house-yards throughout the village - you will see such lines as "30 Men, 'A' Coy.";<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">[Pg 116]</a></span> - or "2 Off.'s, 30 Men, 'B' Coy."; and, perhaps, - the initials of the regiment.</p> - - <p>But when I mention billets you mustn't think - of the style in which you billeted those four - recruits last spring, you know. By Jove, no! - It is laid down that billets in France mean the - provision of shelter from the elements. Sometimes - it's complete shelter, and sometimes it isn't; - but it's always the best the folk can give. In - this village, for instance, there are hardly any - inhabitants left. Ninety per cent. of the houses - are empty, and a good many have been pretty - badly knocked about by shells. I have often - laughed in remembering your careful anxiety - about providing ash-trays and comfortable chairs - for your recruits last year; and the trouble you - took about cocoa last thing at night, and having - the evening meal really hot, even though the - times of arrival with your lodgers might be a bit - irregular. It's not <i>quite</i> like that behind the firing - line, you know.</p> - - <p>In some places the men's billets are all barns, - granaries, sheds and stables, cow-houses, and the - like. Here, they are nearly all rooms in empty - houses. As for their condition, that, like our - cocoa of a night, and cooking generally, is our own<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">[Pg 117]</a></span> - affair. In our Division, discipline is very strict - about billets. They are carefully inspected once - or twice during each turnout by the Commanding - Officer, and every day by the O.C. Company and - the Platoon Commanders. We have no brooms, - brushes, or dusters, except what we can make. - But the billets have to be very carefully cleaned - out twice a day, and there must be no dirt or - crumbs or dust about when they are inspected. - Even the mire of the yards outside has to be - scraped and cleared away, and kept clear; and - any kind of destruction, like breaking down doors - or anything of that sort, is a serious crime, to - be dealt with very severely. The men thoroughly - understand all this now, and the reason of it; - and they are awfully good. They leave every - place cleaner and better than they found it.</p> - - <p>In the same way it has been strictly laid down - that in their attitude towards the inhabitants the - men must be scrupulous. And, by Jove, they - are! Wherever our troops are you will find men - in khaki helping the women with their washing, - drawing water, feeding stock, bringing in cows, - getting in wood, and all such matters; and if our - fellows haven't much French, I can assure you - they are chattering in some sort of a language<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">[Pg 118]</a></span> - most of the time. And if all this is incomprehensible - to the good Frenchwomen, how is it that the - latter respond with so lively a chatter, and why - are they always smiling and laughing the while—even - when one sees that in their eyes which - tells more plainly than the mourning they wear - of sacrifices they have made in the service of - France? Come to think of it, do you know, that - sums up the attitude of all the French women I - have met, and of the old men of France, too; - and it's an attitude which compels respect, while - it elicits sympathy. They smile with their lips, - and in the brave hearts of them they smile, too; - even though they cannot altogether hide either - the wearing anxiety of waiting, or, where bereavement - has come, the grief of mourning for brave - men lost, which shows in their eyes.</p> - - <p>In the first convenient archway handy to our - billets you will find the Company's field cooker. - You have seen them trailing across the Plain down - Salisbury way on field days—the same old cookers. - The rations come there each day, from the - Battalion Q.M. store, three miles away; and - there the men draw them in their cooked form at - meal-times. In every village there is a canteen - where men buy stuff like chocolate, condensed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_119" id="Page_119">[Pg 119]</a></span> - milk, tinned café-au-lait, biscuits, cake, and so - forth.</p> - - <p>In the day-time, when there are no carrying - fatigues, we have frequent inspections, and once - the first day out of trenches is past, every man's - equipment has to be just so, and himself clean-shaven - and smart. We have a bath-house down - near the river, where everyone soaks in huge - tubs of hot water; and in the yard of every - billet you will find socks, shirts, and the like - hanging out to dry after washing. By 8.30 at - night all men not engaged in carrying fatigues - have turned in. During the week out of trenches - we get all the sleep we can. There are football - matches most afternoons, and sing-songs in the - early evenings. And all and every one of these - things are subject to one other thing—strafe; - which, according to its nature, may send us to our - cellars, or to the manning of support trenches and - bridge-head defences.</p> - - <p>With regard to the officers, our batmen cook our - grub, moderately well or atrociously badly, according - to their capacity. But, gradually, they - are all acquiring the soldierly faculty of knocking - together a decent meal out of any rough elements - of food there may be available. More often than<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_120" id="Page_120">[Pg 120]</a></span> - not we do quite well. Our days are pretty much - filled up in looking after the men, and in the - evenings, after supper, we have their letters to - censor, our own to write, if we are energetic - enough, and a yarn and a smoke round whatever - fire there may be before turning in; after which - the Boche artillery is powerless to keep us awake. - At this present moment I doubt whether there's - another soul in "A" Company, besides myself, - who's awake, except the sentry outside headquarters. - And I shall be asleep in about as - long as it takes me to sign myself your</p> - - <p class="right"> - "<i>Temporary Gentleman</i>." - </p> - - <hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_121" id="Page_121">[Pg 121]</a></span></p> - <div class="chapter"> - - <h2 class="nobreak"><a name="BOMBARDMENT" id="BOMBARDMENT"></a>BOMBARDMENT</h2></div> - - <p>The day before we came back into trenches I - meant to have written you, but the chance didn't - arise. Now we have been in just twenty-four - hours, and though the time has gone like lightning, - because one has been on the jump all the while, - yet, looking back, it seems ever so long since we - were in billets. A good deal has happened.</p> - - <p>For the first time since we've been out here we - took over in broad daylight yesterday afternoon, - and I've never known Fritz so quiet as he was. - Not only were there no shells, but very few bullets - were flying while we were taking over, and the - ——s were clearing out for their week in billets. - We had everything in apple-pie order and the - night's duties mapped out, stores checked, and - ammunition dished out—the extra night supply - I mean—before tea, and were just thinking how - remarkably well-behaved the Boche was and - what a great improvement it was to take over - by daylight. And then the band played!</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_122" id="Page_122">[Pg 122]</a></span></p> - - <p>I had been counting the supply of bombs in the - Company grenade store, and was in the act of - setting my watch by Taffy's, standing there in the - trench at a quarter to five, when, with a roar, - shells landed in six different parts of our line; not - in the trench, you know, but somewhere mighty - close handy. Of course, you might say there - was nothing very startling about half a dozen - shells landing near us, especially as nobody was - hit. And that's true. But there was something - queer about it, all the same. We both felt it. - Taffy looked at me, and I looked at him, and - "Oho!" said Taffy. And I entirely agreed.</p> - - <p>Perhaps it was partly the unusual quietness that - had come before. Anyhow, we both started at - the double for Company Headquarters, and I - know we both had the same idea—to see whether - "the Peacemaker" wanted the word passed for - everyone to take cover in such artillery shelters - as we have now in this sector; and, mind you, - they're miles better than they were when we first - took over.</p> - - <p>But, bless your heart! we needn't have bothered - getting word about it from the O.C. Before we - got near the Company dug-out the men were - seeing to that for themselves, as they have been<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_123" id="Page_123">[Pg 123]</a></span> - taught to do, and the trenches were empty except, - of course, for the sentries and their reliefs, who, - with the observation officer, would remain at their - posts even if the bottom fell out of the world.</p> - - <p>Such a raging frenzy of fire as there was when - we met "the Peacemaker," outside the signallers' - cabin, you never could imagine in your life, not if I - wrote about it all night. One knows now that, on - the average, there were not more than ninety projectiles - per minute coming over us. But at the - time, I assure you, it seemed there must be about - ten a second, and that shells must be literally - jostling each other in the air. Apart from anything - else, the air was full of falling earth, wood, - and barbed wire. It was clear they had begun by - ranging on our parapet and entanglements. The - oddest things were falling apparently from the - sky—bits of trench boots, bully beef tins, shovel - handles, stakes six feet long, lengths of wire, - crumpled sheets of iron, and all kinds of stuff.</p> - - <p>I yelled to the O.C. that I would take observation - duty, and Taffy wanted to take it with me. - But "the Peacemaker" very properly insisted on - his going to ground. We had to shout right in - each other's ears. The O.C. told me our telephone - wires were cut to ribbons already. "But Head<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_124" id="Page_124">[Pg 124]</a></span>quarters - will know as much about this as we could - tell 'em by now," he yelled. But he had sent off - a chit by runner, just to let the C.O. know that - our fellows had all taken cover, and that the - heavy stuff seemed to be mostly landing on our - front and the communication trenches immediately - in rear. The O.C. made a cup of his hands - and shouted in my ear as we crouched in the - bottom of the trench:</p> - - <p>"What you've got to do is to watch for the - lifting of the curtain to our rear. Must have - every man on the fire-step then. They must - surely mean to come across after this."</p> - - <p>"I hope so. 'A' Company 'll eat 'em if they - do."</p> - - <p>"That's if we can keep cover now without too - many casualties. Keep as good a look-out as you - can. You'll find me here, by the signallers."</p> - - <p>So I left him, and made my way along to a little - observing shelter we had made near the centre of - our bit of firing line. But, when I got there, I - found that shelter was just a heap of yeasty mud - and rubbish. Fritz was pounding that bit out of - all recognition. By this time, you know, one could - hardly see six paces ahead anywhere. The smoke - hung low, so that every shell in bursting made<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_125" id="Page_125">[Pg 125]</a></span> - long sheets of red flame along the smoke. And - just then I got my first whiff of gas in the smoke: - not a gas cloud, you know, but the burst of gas - shells: lachrymatory shells some of 'em were. So - I went hurrying along the line then, ordering all - gas helmets on. I found most of the men had - seen to this without being told.</p> - - <p>By the way, I ought to say that, so far as I can - tell, bombardment doesn't affect one's mind much. - You don't feel the slightest bit afraid. Only a lot - more alert than usual, and rather keyed up, as you - might be if you were listening to a fine orchestra - playing something very stirring. It's rather a - pleasant feeling, like the exhilaration you get from - drinking champagne, or hearing a great speech - on some big occasion when there are thousands of - people listening and all pretty well worked up. - As I scrambled along the fire trench I laughed once, - because I found I was talking away nineteen to - the dozen. I listened, as though it were to someone - else, and I heard myself saying:</p> - - <p>"Let her rip! Let her rip, you blighters! You - can't smash us, you sauer-krauters. You're only - wasting the ammunition you'll be praying for presently. - Wait till our heavies get to work on you, - you beauties. You'll wish you hadn't spoken.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_126" id="Page_126">[Pg 126]</a></span> - Let her rip! Another dud! That was a rotten - one. Why, you haven't got the range right even - now, you rotters!"</p> - - <p>Wasn't it queer, jawing away like that, while - they were hammering the stuffing out of our line? - By the way, though I couldn't tell it then, our - artillery was blazing away at them all the time. - The fire was so tremendous that we positively - had no idea our guns were in it at all. But, as a - matter of fact, they were lambasting Old Harry - out of the Boche support lines and communications, - and the countless shells roaring over our - heads were, half of them, our own.</p> - - <p>It seemed pretty clear to me that this bombardment - was on a very narrow front, much less than - our Company front even. It didn't seem to be - much more than a platoon front. So I hurried - along to the signals and let the O.C. know this. - As I had expected, he told me to concentrate all - the men, except sentries, on the flanks of the bombardment - sector, all with smoke helmets on, - rifles fully charged, bayonets fixed, and everything - ready for instant action. He had already got - our Lewis guns ready in the trench on both flanks. - As a fact, "the Peacemaker" was doing as much - observing as I was, and I made bold to tell him I<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_127" id="Page_127">[Pg 127]</a></span> - thought it wasn't the thing for him to expose - himself as much as he did.</p> - - <p>"That's all right, old man," he shouted. "I'm - looking out. I'll be careful, and you do the same. - Here, stick your pipe in your mouth! It helps - with the men."</p> - - <p>I'd had to tell him that in the centre and on the - extreme left we had had a few casualties. The - stretcher-bearers were doing their best for them.</p> - - <p>Not many minutes afterwards the curtain of fire - appeared to be shifting back. The row was just as - great, or greater. The smoke was just as dense, - and there was a deal more gas in it. But it seemed - to me there were very few shells actually landing - along our front, and I could see the flashes of them - bursting continuously a little in our rear.</p> - - <p>As I got to the left flank of the bombarded sector - I found Taffy directing the fire of a machine-gun - diagonally across the front. The men were all out - there, and you could see them itching for the word - to get over the parapet. Their faces were quite - changed. Upon my word, I'd hardly have known - some of 'em. They had the killing look, and - nearly every man was fiddling with his bayonet, - making sure he had the good steel ready for Fritz. - Seeing they were all serene, I made my way along<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_128" id="Page_128">[Pg 128]</a></span> - to the other flank. I hardly thought about it, - but just went, and that shows there's something - shapes our ends, doesn't it? I should have been - pretty sick afterwards if I hadn't made that way - when I did.</p> - - <p>The first thing I saw on that flank was a couple - of men lifting poor R——'s body from the bottom - of the trench. The Infant had been killed instantaneously. - His head was absolutely smashed. - He had been the most popular officer in our mess - since we came out.</p> - - <p>There was no time to think, but the sight of the - Infant, lying there dead, sent a kind of sudden - heat through me from inside; as I felt it on patrol - that night. I hurried on, with Corporal Slade - close on my heels. The gassy smoke was very - dense. Round the next traverse was the little - bay from which the other machine-gun had been - firing. It wasn't firing now. Two men were lying - dead close beside it, and another badly wounded; - and half across the parapet was Sergeant T——, - who'd been in charge of the gun, being hauled out - by his arms by two Boches, while two other - Boches stood by, one holding his rifle with bayonet - fixed, in the thrust position, as if inclined to - run T—— through. The other Boches were<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_129" id="Page_129">[Pg 129]</a></span> - shouting something in German. They wanted to - make T—— prisoner. There was blood on one - side of his neck. The insolence of the thing made - me quite mad for the minute, and I screamed at - those Boches like a maniac.</p> - - <p>It seems rum, but they turned and bolted into - the smoke; I after them as hard as I could pelt. - I shot one in the back with my revolver. He fell - and, as I came up with him, I snatched his rifle - from the ground beside him. I was like a lunatic. - Then, just as suddenly, I came to my senses. The - other Boches were out of sight in the smoke. I - jumped back into the trench and put Corporal - Slade on to the machine-gun, telling him to keep - traversing that front. I ran farther down the - trench to discover what had happened. The fire - trench dipped there into a wooded hollow. The - pounding of it had levelled the whole place till - you could hardly make out the trench line.</p> - - <p>Here I found the bulk of my own platoon furiously - scrapping with thirty or forty Boches over the - parapet. It was splendid. I can't describe the - feeling, as one rushed into it. But it was absolutely - glorious. And it gave me my first taste of - bayonet work in earnest—with a Boche bayonet in - my hand, mark you. Made me quite glad of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_130" id="Page_130">[Pg 130]</a></span> - bayonet practice we had at home with Sergeant - W——, after he'd had the course at Aldershot. - No. 1 Platoon had never let the beggars get as - far as our trench, but met 'em outside. To give - them their due, those Boches didn't try any of - their "Kamerade" business. They did fight—until - they saw half their number stuck and down; - and then they turned and bolted for it into the - dense smoke over No Man's Land.</p> - - <p>They were most of 'em bayoneted in the back - before I could get my fellows to turn. I didn't - want them to go far in that dense fog of gassy - smoke, and there was hardly any daylight left. I - didn't want them tumbling into any ambush. - On the way back we gathered up a score of Boche - knives, a lot of their caps, two or three rifles, and - a whole box of their hand grenades, with not one - missing.</p> - - <p>That was the end of the first bombardment - we've seen. It lasted exactly an hour, and our - gunners tell us the Boche sent more than 5000 - shells over in that time. He has certainly knocked - our line about rather badly. All hands are at - work now repairing the trench and the wire, with - a whole Company of R.E. to help. Our casualties - were eighteen wounded and seven killed. We<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_131" id="Page_131">[Pg 131]</a></span> - buried thirty-one dead Boches, and they removed - a good many dead. We got eleven wounded and - nine unwounded Boche prisoners. Of course, - they took a lot of their wounded away. They - captured no prisoners from us.</p> - - <p>I am sorry to say that another of our officers, - Tony, is among the wounded, but the M.O. says - he'll be back with us in a week. If only we could - say that of the Infant! We are all sad about him; - such a brave lad! but mighty pleased with the - Company. The Brigadier says the Company has - done splendidly. He was specially glad to know - that the Boche collared no prisoners from us. - It was our first taste, really, of bombardment, - and of hand-to-hand fighting; and the men are - now much keener even than they were before - to get the Boche. They swear he shall pay - dearly for the Infant and for six of their mates. - They mean it, too, believe me. And we mean to - help them get their payment. There isn't so - much as a scratch on your</p> - - <p class="right"> - "<i>Temporary Gentleman</i>." - </p> - - <hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_132" id="Page_132">[Pg 132]</a></span></p> - <div class="chapter"> - - <h2 class="nobreak"><a name="THE_DAYS_WORK" id="THE_DAYS_WORK"></a>THE DAY'S WORK</h2></div> - - <p>Your letters are a great joy, and I feel that I - give mighty little in return for their unfailing - regularity. But I am sure you will understand - that out here, where there's no writing-table to - turn to, one simply cannot write half as much as - one would like. It's astonishing how few moments - there are in which, without neglect, one can - honestly say there is nothing waiting to be done.</p> - - <p>In your letter of the fifteenth, at this moment - propped up in front of me against a condensed - milk tin, you say: "When you can, I wish you'd - jot down for me a sort of schedule of the ordinary, - average day's work in the trenches when there is - nothing special on, so that I can picture the routine - of your life." Oh, for more ability as a jotter - down! I know by what I used to see in the papers - before leaving England there's a general idea at - home that the chief characteristic of trench life is - its dreary monotony, and that one of our problems - is how to pass the time. How the idea ever got<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_133" id="Page_133">[Pg 133]</a></span> - abroad I can't imagine. I don't see how there - ever could have been a time like that in trenches. - Certainly we have never had a hint of it; not the - shadow of a hint. If anyone has ever tasted the - boredom of idleness in the trenches—which I - don't believe, mind you—there must have been - something radically wrong with his Battalion; his - Company Commander must have been a rotter. - And I don't see how <i>that</i> could be.</p> - - <p>A trench, especially in such country as this we're - in, is not unlike a ship; a rather ancient and leaky - wooden ship. If you don't keep busy about her - she leaks like a sieve, gets unworkably encrusted - and choked by barnacles, and begins to decay. - If you don't keep improving her, she jolly soon - begins to go to pieces. Only, I imagine the disintegrating - process is a great deal quicker in a - trench in this part of the world than it could be in - the most unseaworthy of ships.</p> - - <p>The daily routine? Well, it would be wrong - to say there isn't any. There is. But it differs - every day and every hour of the day, except in - certain stable essentials. Every day brings happenings - that didn't come the day before. One - fixed characteristic is that it's a twenty-four day, - rather than twelve hours of day and twelve hours<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_134" id="Page_134">[Pg 134]</a></span> - of night. Of course, the overruling factor is - strafe. But there's also something pretty bossy - about the condition of your trench. Some kind - of repairs simply cannot wait. The trench must - continue to provide cover from observation, and - some sort of cover from fire, or it ceases to be - tenable, and one would not be carrying out one's - fundamental duty of properly holding the sector - of line to which one is detailed; which, obviously, - would be unthinkable. Still, as I say, there are - some elements of stable routine. Well, here goes. - It won't cover the ground. I'm not a competent - enough jotter down for that, but such as it is——</p> - - <p>We think of every fresh day as beginning with - "Stand-to." The main idea behind this function - is that dawn is the classic moment for an attack. - I'm not quite sure that this or any other classic - idea holds good in trench warfare, but "Stand-to" - is a pretty sound sort of an institution, anyhow. - We Stand-to one hour before daylight. In some - Companies the precise hour is laid down overnight - or for the week. Our skipper doesn't believe in - that. He likes to make a sort of a test of every - Stand-to, and so gives no notice beforehand of the - time at which he is going to order it. And I - think he's right.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_135" id="Page_135">[Pg 135]</a></span></p> - - <p>You will easily understand that of all things in - trench warfare nothing is more important than the - ability of your Company to man the fire-step, - ready to repel an attack, or to make one, on the - shortest possible notice. When the order comes - there must be no fiddling about looking for rifles, - or appearing on the fire-step with incomplete - equipment. See how useless that would be in the - event of a surprise attack in the dark, when the - enemy could creep very close indeed to your parapet - before the best of sentries could give any alarm! - Troops in the firing line must be able to turn out, - equipped in every detail for fighting—for days on - end of fighting—not only quickly, but instantly; - without any delay at all. That is why, in the - British Army, at all events—and I've no doubt - the French are the same—nobody in the firing line - is allowed to remove his equipment. Officer and - man alike, when we lie down to sleep, we lie down - in precisely the same order as we go into action: - haversack and water-bottle, ammunition and - everything complete. That detail of the filled - water-bottle, for instance, may make all the - difference between a man who is an asset to his - country in a critical action and a man who is - useless and a bad example. You never know the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_136" id="Page_136">[Pg 136]</a></span> - moment at which an action that will last forty-eight - hours or more is going to begin; and, though - a man may keep going a long while without - food, he's not much use if he cannot rinse his - mouth out after a bit.</p> - - <p>But at this rate I shall never get done. It's - always so when I set out to write to you about - any specific thing.</p> - - <p>Well, we Stand-to an hour before dawn. It - happens this way: "the Peacemaker" is in the - trench doing something, or he comes out of the - dug-out. He looks at his watch and at the sky, - and he tells his orderly to bring another orderly. - Then he says to the pair of them: "Pass the word - to Stand-to." One bolts along the trench to the - left and one to the right; and as they hurry along - they give the word to every sentry and to everyone - they see: "Stand-to!" Meanwhile "the Peacemaker" - pokes about and observes, and jumps like - a hundred of bricks on any man whose bayonet is - not fixed, whose belt is unbuckled, or who is slow - in getting to the fire-step. All this time he has - his watch in his hand.</p> - - <p>Pretty soon the first of those two orderlies comes - racing back. Very often they see each other - approaching the Officer Commanding from oppo<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_137" id="Page_137">[Pg 137]</a></span>site - directions, and make a real race of it, and - report breathlessly: "All correct, sir." To be - able to do this, they must have got the word from - each Platoon Sergeant. Probably about this time - the officer on duty comes along from whatever part - of the line he happens to have been patrolling - at the time. And he also reports that all was correct - in the part of the line he has come from, or that - such and such a section was a bit behind this - morning, and that Corporal So-and-so wants a - little stirring up.</p> - - <p>Also, by this time the Company Sergeant-Major - will have arrived, with a couple of runners, each - carrying under his arm a jar of mixed rum-and-water, - half and half. Rum is never served out - in any circumstances, save in the presence of an - officer. So the officer on duty goes to one end of - the line, and "the Peacemaker" to the other, and - both work slowly back toward the centre, watching - the serving out of the rum, and looking carefully - over each man and his equipment. In the centre, - the officer on duty probably waits, while the O.C. - Company goes right on, so that he may see the - whole of his line and every single man in it. So - you see, in a way, Stand-to is a parade, as well - as an important tactical operation. Because, re<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_138" id="Page_138">[Pg 138]</a></span>member, - the sentries are keenly watching all this - while, and so are a good many more pairs of eyes - than look out at any other time. But, whereas - the sentries are steadily gazing into the rapidly - greying mysteries of No Man's Land, the other - pairs of eyes are only taking occasional sharp - glances, and then down again, below the parapet.</p> - - <p>There has probably been very little firing from - either side during this time. Now, very suddenly, - a violent crackling starts along to the left of - the line. Instantly, every exposed head ducks. - Fritz has started the first verse of his morning - Hymn of Hate. He always thinks to catch us, - and never does. We enjoy his hymn, because we - love to see him waste his ammunition, as he proceeds - to do now in handsome style. Br-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r-r! - The spray of his machine-guns traverses - very neatly up and down the length of our parapet. - His gunners are clearly convinced that at Stand-to - time they are certain to get a few English heads. - Then, as suddenly as he began, he stops; and—every - head remains ducked. We've been at some - pains to teach 'em that. Twenty seconds later—or - it may be two minutes—the spray begins again, - just where it stopped, or a hundred yards to right - or left of that. The Boche is quite smart about<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_139" id="Page_139">[Pg 139]</a></span> - this; only he seems to act on the assumption that - we never learn anything. That's where he's - rather sold.</p> - - <p>And, while Fritz sends forth his morning Hymn, - our snipers in their carefully-hidden posts have - their eyes glued on the neighbourhood of his - machine-gun emplacements; and every now and - again they get their reward, and the head of a - Boche machine-gun observer, or some other Teuton - whose curiosity overcomes his discretion, drops - never to rise any more.</p> - - <p>Before the Hymn began, you understand, the - greying mystery has grown considerably less mysterious, - and one has been able to see almost as - much in the pearly dawn light as one will see at - high noon, especially in these misty localities.</p> - - <p>When Fritz has got through the last verse of his - Hymn he is almost invariably quiet and harmless - as a sucking dove for an hour or two. I take it he - makes a serious business of his breakfast. And - there again he often pays. Our snipers have - their brekker later, and devote half an hour now - to observation of the neighbourhood of all the little - spirals of smoke in the Boche lines which indicate - breakfast fires. They generally have some luck - then; and sometimes it becomes worth while to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_140" id="Page_140">[Pg 140]</a></span> - turn on a machine-gun or two, where Fritz's - appetite has made him careless.</p> - - <p>It is now broad daylight, and our ration parties - appear, four to each platoon, trailing up the trenches - from the rear with the breakfast tea and bacon. - Each party dumps its dixey of tea down in the - centre of the sector of its platoon, and the Platoon - Sergeant dishes out to the section commanders - the whack of bacon for their sections, while all - hands draw their mugs of tea. The bread and - jam and "dry rations" were drawn overnight. - And so to breakfast, in the dug-outs or along the - fire-step, according to the state of the weather. - It's breakfast for all hands, except the sentries, - and they are relieved to get theirs directly the - men to relieve them have eaten. With the exception - of those who are on duty, the officers get along - to the Company dug-out for their breakfast, which - the batmen have been preparing. They cook it, - you know, over a brazier—some old pail or tin with - holes punched in it, consuming coke and charcoal - mixed, or whatever fuel one has. Fried bacon, - tea, and bread-and-jam; that's our usual menu. - Sometimes there may be a tin of fruit as well, - or some luxury of that sort from home. Always - there are good appetites and no need of sauce.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_141" id="Page_141">[Pg 141]</a></span></p> - - <p>But, look here, I've just got to stop now. And - yet I've only reached breakfast in my jotting of - the day's routine in trenches. Isn't it maddening? - Well, I'll get another chance to-night or to-morrow, - and give you some more of it. I really will finish - it, and I'm sorry I couldn't have done it in one - letter, as it would have been done by a more - competent jotter-down of things than your</p> - - <p class="right"> - "<i>Temporary Gentleman</i>." - </p> - - <hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_142" id="Page_142">[Pg 142]</a></span></p> - <div class="chapter"> - - <h2 class="nobreak"><a name="TOMMY_DODD_AND_TRENCH_ROUTINE" id="TOMMY_DODD_AND_TRENCH_ROUTINE"></a>TOMMY DODD AND TRENCH ROUTINE</h2></div> - - <p>You'll be grieved to hear that cheery, indomitable - little Tommy Dodd was rather badly laid out this - morning; four or five nasty wounds from shrapnel. - But I think he'll pull through. He has so much of - the will to live, and I am sure a soul so uniformly - cheerful as his must make its body easier to heal.</p> - - <p>I wasn't six paces from him at the time. We - were fastening some barbed-wire stays on screw - standards we meant to put out to-night. I had just - lent him my thick leather gloves after showing him - exactly how I wanted these stays fixed, with little - stakes bound on at the end of them, so as to save - time to-night when we are over the parapet. He was - busy as a beaver, as he generally is; a bit nearer - to Whizz-bang Corner than was quite wise—I - shall always reproach myself for not keeping him - farther from that ill-omened spot—when the shell - burst low overhead. I got a dozen tiny flicks - myself on hands and head, which the M.O. touched - up with iodine after he bandaged Tommy Dodd.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_143" id="Page_143">[Pg 143]</a></span> - But Tommy was badly hit in the thigh, one arm, - and the left shoulder.</p> - - <p>He was parchment-colour by the time I got the - stretcher-bearers along, and that was only a matter - of seconds. We were close to their little dug-out, - as it happened. He'd lost a lot of blood. But he - grinned at me, with a kind of twist in his grin, as - I helped lift him into the trench stretcher.</p> - - <p>"Looks almost like a Blighty for me, sir, don't - it? Well, even the Boche must hit something - sometimes. It's only an outer this time, an' look - at the thousands o' rounds when he don't get on - the target at all! Sorry I couldn't 've finished - them stays, sir. If you send for Davis, o' Number - 5 Section, you'll find him pretty good at it, - sir." And then he turned to the stretcher-bearer - in front, who had the strap over his shoulder, and - was just bracing himself to start off when he'd - done talking. "Home, John!" he says, with a - little kick up of his head, which I really can't - describe. "An' be sure you don't exceed the - limit, for I can't abide them nasty low perlice - courts an gettin' fined."</p> - - <p>And yet, when we got down to Battalion Headquarters, - the M.O. told me Tommy Dodd ought by - all rights to have been insensible, from the blood<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_144" id="Page_144">[Pg 144]</a></span> - he'd lost and the shock of those wounds: not surface - wounds, you know. He'll have two or three - months of hospital comfort now. I hope to goodness - nothing septic will intervene. The Battalion - would be the poorer for it if we lost Tommy. - The M.O. says he'll pull through. The M.O. - cropped little patches of hair off round my head, - to rub the iodine in where I was scratched, so I - look as if I had ringworm.</p> - - <p>But to get back to business. I've got to "jot - down" this everyday trench routine for you, - haven't I? And I only got as far as breakfast - in yesterday's letter. We'll get a move on - and run through it now. I'm due on deck directly - after lunch to relieve Taffy; and it's past - eleven now.</p> - - <p>After breakfast one-half the men kip down for a - sleep, and the other half turn to for work. Then - after the mid-day dinner, the half that rested in - the forenoon, work; and throughout the night - all hands stand their turn at sentry-go. That's - the principle—in our Company, anyhow. But, of - course, it doesn't always work out quite like that. - Everything naturally gives way to strafing considerations, - and at times urgent repairing work - makes it necessary to forgo half or all the day<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_145" id="Page_145">[Pg 145]</a></span> - rest-time. As for the officers—there are only - three of us now, besides "the Peacemaker"—one - officer is always on duty, day and night. - We take that in three-hour spells, the three of us. - Then in the day-time, while the turn of duty is a - fixed thing, we are, as a matter of fact, about at - some job or another all the time; just as the O.C. - Company is about all the twenty-four hours. - At night we three do take our time off for sleep - after a tour of duty, unless in some emergency - or other. "The Peacemaker" just gets odd cat-naps - when he can.</p> - - <p>You might think that if there'd been no particular - artillery strafing going on there would be no - necessary repair work for the men to do in the - trench. But you see, we've practically always - got a new dug-out in course of construction, and a - refuse pit to be dug, and a sniping shelter to be - made, and a new bit of trench to be cut. We have - nine separate sumps where pumps are fixed in our - line. And if those pumps were not well worked - each day we'd soon be flooded out. There's - generally some wire and standards to be got ready - for putting out at night, with a few "Gooseberries" - and trip wires where our entanglements - have been weakened by shell fire. I've never yet<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_146" id="Page_146">[Pg 146]</a></span> - seen a trench that wasn't crying out for some sort - of work on it.</p> - - <p>At breakfast "the Peacemaker" will generally - talk over the jobs he specially wants us to put - through during the day, and give us any notes he - may have taken during the night, round the - trenches. Then chits begin coming in by 'phone - from Battalion Headquarters; and chits, however - short and innocent they may look, nearly always - boil down to a job of work to be done. In fact, - one way and another, jobs invariably invade the - breakfast table and every other meal-time; and - before the tea-mugs are filled up a second time - one nearly always hears a batman told to "clear - this end, will you, to make room for me to write - a chit."</p> - - <p>Then there will be a visitor, probably the C.O., - pretty soon after breakfast, and "the Peacemaker" - will trot round our line with him, discussing. Ten - to one that visit will mean more jobs of work; - and, occasionally, what's a deal more welcome, - a new plan for a little strafe of some sort.</p> - - <p>And then one sees the ration parties trailing up - again from the rear, and dinner has arrived; some - kind of a stew, you know, as a rule, with bully as - alternative; potatoes if you're lucky, jam any<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_147" id="Page_147">[Pg 147]</a></span>how, - more tea, and some sort of pickings from - home parcels in the way of cake or biscuits, figs - or what not. During and immediately after - dinner—in the dug-out we call it lunch, from - habit, but it's about the same thing as the evening - meal, as a rule—we always plan out the - night's work, patrols, wiring, any little strafe we - have on, and that sort of thing.</p> - - <p>We are a bit luxurious in "A" Company, and - generally run to a mug of afternoon tea; sometimes - (if the recent mails have been heavy) to - an outburst of plum cake or shortbread with it. - And an hour before dark comes evening Stand-to. - Technically, this has some tactical significance, - even as the morning Stand-to has actually. But - as a matter of fact, in the evening it's a parade, - more than anything else, to inspect rifles, check up - ammunition, call the roll, and see the men are all - right.</p> - - <p>By the way, you asked me something about the - rum. I don't think it's issued at all in the summer - months. What we issue now, once a day, is, I - think, one gill per man of the half-and-half mixture - of rum and water. I think it's a gill; a pint mug - has to supply eight men. I think, on the whole, - it's a useful issue, and can't possibly do any harm.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_148" id="Page_148">[Pg 148]</a></span> - It's thundering good rum; good, honest, mellow - stuff, and very warming.</p> - - <p>About seven o'clock we generally have a feed, - from habit, you know, that being the time we - used to have dinner in camp in England. It's the - same sort of feed we have in middle day. And - after that, the officer who is going on duty at - midnight, say, will generally get a sleep. The usual - round of night work is well under way by now—patrols, - wiring parties, work on the parapet, and so - on, according to what the moon allows. If there's - too much light, these things have to come later.</p> - - <p>With regard to work for sentry reliefs, the way - we have in our Company is this: a sentry's relief—the - sentries are always double by night and - single by day—must always be within call of the - sentry; therefore we never let him go beyond the - bay next to the one the sentry occupies, that is, - round the next traverse. Well, we hold the - reliefs responsible for keeping those two bays in - good order; clean and pumped, sides revetted, - fire-step clear and in repair, the duck-boards - lifted and muck cleared out from under them each - day, and so forth. All used cartridges have to be - gathered up and put in the sand-bag hung over the - fire-step for that purpose, for return to store.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_149" id="Page_149">[Pg 149]</a></span></p> - - <p>Unless there is real strafing going on the trenches - grow pretty silent after midnight. At least, it - seems so to the officer on duty as he makes his - way from one end of his line to the other. One - gets very tired then. There's never any place - where you can sit down in a trench. I am sure - the O.C. Company is often actually on his feet - for twenty-two out of the twenty-four hours. - I say it's very quiet. Well, it's a matter of comparison, - of course. If in the middle of the street - at two o'clock in the morning at home you heard - a few rifles fired, you would think it remarkably - noisy. But here, if there's nothing going on except - rifle fire, say at the rate of a couple of shots a - minute, the trenches seem extraordinarily quiet; - ghostly quiet.</p> - - <p>You go padding along in your gum boots, feeling - your way with your stick, which usually carries - such a thick coat of mud on it that its taps on the - duck-boards are hardly audible. You come round - the corner of a traverse, and spot a sentry's helmet - against the sky-line. "Who goes there?" he - challenges you, hoarsely, and you answer, "Lieutenant - So-and-so, —— Regiment," and he gives - you leave to pass.</p> - - <p>One has to be careful about these challenges.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_150" id="Page_150">[Pg 150]</a></span> - At first the men were inclined to be casual and - grunt out, "Tha's all right!" or just the name of - the Regiment when challenged. One had to - correct that tendency. It is easy for a Boche to - learn to say "Tha's all right," or to mention the - name of a Regiment opposite his line. Plenty of - them have been waiters, barbers, clerks, bakers, - and so on in London. So we insist on formal - correctness in these challenges, and the officer - or man who doesn't halt promptly on being challenged - takes his chance of a bullet or a bayonet - in his chest.</p> - - <p>One stops for a word or two with every sentry, - and one creeps out along the saps for a word with - the listening posts. It helps them through their - time, and it satisfies you that they're on the spot, - mentally as well as physically. There's hardly - a man in "A" Company who is not an inveterate - smoker, but, do you know, I have never once got a - whiff of 'baccy smoke in the neighbourhood of a - sentry since we've been in trenches, never a suspicion - of it! Neither have I ever found a sentry who - was not genuinely watching to his front; and if the - Colonel himself comes along and asks one a question - there's not one of them ever betrayed into turning - his eyes from his front. They're good lads.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_151" id="Page_151">[Pg 151]</a></span></p> - - <p>And so the small hours lengthen into the rather - larger ones, and morning Stand-to comes round - again. It isn't often it's so absolutely uneventful - as my jottings on the subject, of course. But you - must just regard this as the merest skeleton outline - of the average routine of trench days. And - then, to be sure, I've left out lots of little things. - Also, every day brings its special happenings, and - big or little strafes. One thing we do not get in - trenches, and I cannot believe we ever should, - from what I've seen of it; and that is monotony, - boredom, idleness, lack of occupation. That's a - fancy of the newspaper writers which, so far as I - know, has literally no relation whatever to the - facts of trench life on the British Front in France; - certainly not to anything as yet seen by your</p> - - <p class="right"> - "<i>Temporary Gentleman.</i>" - </p> - - <hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_152" id="Page_152">[Pg 152]</a></span></p> - <div class="chapter"> - - <h2 class="nobreak"><a name="STALKING_SNIPERS" id="STALKING_SNIPERS"></a>STALKING SNIPERS</h2></div> - - <p>We are trying to work one of our little cunning - stunts to-day. Last night I had an observation - patrol out, and having no special job on, decided - to devote our time to the examination of the - Boche wire—their entanglements, you know, in - the sector opposite our particular line. I had only - two men with me: one of my own Platoon scouts - and a lad named Hankin, of whom I have great - hopes as a sniper. He's in my No. 3 Section, and - a very safe and pretty shot with a rifle, especially - at long ranges. He'd never been on patrol and - was most anxious to go, and to have an opportunity - of looking at the Boche line, to verify his - suspicions regarding certain holes in the ground - which he thought their snipers used. Our patrol - had two interesting results, for one of which we - have to thank Hankin's intelligence. The other - was a bit of luck. The reason I took such a small - patrol was that the aim was observation pure and - simple; not strafing; and the men were more than<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_153" id="Page_153">[Pg 153]</a></span> - usually tired, and had a lot of parapet repair - work which had to be put through before daylight.</p> - - <p>It was about a quarter to one in the morning - when we went out, there having been too much - moonlight before then. Hankin had prepared a - regular chart of the Boche line from his own - observations from his sniping post; quite a clever - little map it is, showing clearly his suspected - sniping shelters, of which there are four. We - drew a blank in the first two of these, and for the - third had to tack back from the line of the Boche - wire, towards our own, along the side of an old - sap, all torn to bits and broken in with shell fire. - Hankin felt certain he had seen the flash of rifles - from this hole; but I thought it was too near our - own wire to attract any Boche sniper for regular - use.</p> - - <p>I need hardly say that on a job of this sort one - moves very slowly, and uses the utmost possible - precaution to prevent noise. It was now absolutely - dark, the moon having gone down and the - sky being much overcast. But for my luminous-faced - compass (which one consults under one's - coat flap to prevent it from showing) we should - have been helpless. As it was, on the bearings<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_154" id="Page_154">[Pg 154]</a></span> - I worked out before starting, we steered comfortably - and fairly accurately.</p> - - <p>All of a sudden came a shock, a rifle fired, as - it seemed, under our noses, actually from about - twenty-five paces ahead on the track we were - making.</p> - - <p>"That's him, sir," breathed Hankin in my - right ear.</p> - - <p>I looked at the compass. The shot came from - dead on the spot where Hankin's third hole should - be; the one we were making for then.</p> - - <p>"How about a little bomb for him, sir?" whispered - the scout on my left.</p> - - <p>But I shook my head. Too much like looking - for a needle in a bundle of hay, and too much like - asking the Boche for machine-gun fire. It was - fair to assume the Boche sniper who fired that shot - would be facing our trenches; the same direction - in which we were facing at that moment, since we - were working back from the German wire towards - our own. I pushed my lips close up to Hankin's - ear and whispered: "We'll try stalking him." - Hankin nodded, quite pleased.</p> - - <p>Then I whispered to the scout to follow us very, - very carefully, and not too closely. I didn't want - him to lose touch, but, for the sake of quietness,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_155" id="Page_155">[Pg 155]</a></span> - one would sooner, of course, go alone. We kept - about six paces between us laterally, Hankin - and myself, and we advanced by inches.</p> - - <p>I must say I should have been grateful for a - shade more light, or less inky blackness. The - edge of that sniper's hole was not sloping, but - sheer; and, crawling slowly along, I struck my - right hand clean over it into nothingness, letting - my chest down with an audible bump. Right - before me then I heard a man's body swing round - on the mud, and the sniper let out some kind of - a German exclamation which was a sort of squeal. - It was, really, much more like some wild animal's - cry than anything human. I had to chance it - then. The sound was so amazingly close. I - couldn't see him, but— And when I sprang, - the thing my hands gripped on first was not the - beggar's windpipe or shoulders, as I had hoped, - but his rifle, carried in his left hand on his left - side.</p> - - <p>It was rather like tom-cats coming to blows. I - swear he spat. As you know, I'm rather heavy, - and I think my spring, slightly to his left, knocked - him off his balance. He hadn't any chance. - But, though I got his left wrist, and covered his - mouth with my chest, I was a bit uneasy about<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_156" id="Page_156">[Pg 156]</a></span> - his right hand, which for the moment I couldn't - find. Lucky for me he hadn't got a dagger in it, - or he might have ripped me open. But Hankin - pretty soon found his right hand, and then we - hauled him up to his feet. I passed his rifle to - the scout, and we just marched him along the - front of our wire to Stinking Sap, and so into - our own front trench; Hankin holding one of his - arms, I taking the other, and the scout coming - behind with the muzzle of the man's own rifle - in the small of his back. There was no need to - crawl, the night being as black as your hat; and - in three or four minutes we had that sniper in - front of "the Peacemaker" in the Company - dug-out.</p> - - <p>It was neat, wasn't it? And all thanks to the - ingenious Hankin's careful observations and his - chart. He'll get his first stripe for that, and very - soon have another to keep it company, or I'm - much mistaken. "The Peacemaker" was delighted, - and wrote a full report of the capture to - be sent down to Headquarters with the prisoner. - Snipers are worth capturing, you know, and this - looked like an intelligent chap whose cross-examination - might be useful to our Brass-hats.</p> - - <p>Queer thing about this sniper, he spoke English<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_157" id="Page_157">[Pg 157]</a></span> - almost like a native. We are not allowed to - examine prisoners on our own account. All that's - done by the powers behind the line. But this - fellow volunteered a little talk while we were - getting the report made out. He was quite - satisfied when he realised we were not going to - harm him in any way, but it was perfectly clear - he had expected to be done in. You'd have - thought he would have known better. He'd - spent nine years in London, part of the time a - waiter, and later a clerk. He had lived at Kennington, - and then in lodgings on Brixton Hill, I'll - trouble you. Extraordinary, isn't it? He'd been - told that London was practically in ruins, and - that the Zepps had made life there impossible. - He also thought that we in France were completely - cut off from England, the Channel being in the - hands of the German Navy, and England isolated - and rapidly starving! I gather the Boches in the - fighting line have no notion at all of the real facts - of the war.</p> - - <p>Well, having been so far successful, we decided to - resume our patrol, the main purpose of which—examination - of the Boche wire—hadn't been touched - yet. So off we went again down Stinking Sap; - and I could see that Hankin and Green, the scout,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_158" id="Page_158">[Pg 158]</a></span> - bore themselves as victors, with something of the - swank of the old campaigner and hero of a thousand - patrols. A great asset, mind you, is a reasonable - amount of swank. These two had not been out - before this night, but already they climbed over - the parapet and moved about in No Man's Land - with a real and complete absence of the slightest - hint of nervousness.</p> - - <p>Now I must cut this short because I have to go - an errand for "the Peacemaker," to have a little - talk with a Battery Commander. We had a - pretty good prowl up and down the Boche wire, - and made an interesting discovery on the extreme - left of our sector. There was a shade more light - then; not from the moon, of course, but from stars; - the sky having become less overcast. I ran my - nose right up against a miniature sign-post; a - nice little thing, with feathers stuck in cracks near - the top of it, presumably to give Boche patrols - their bearings. I should have liked to take it - away as a souvenir, but I didn't want to arouse - Hun suspicions, so left it. The interesting thing - was that this little sign-post—about eighteen - inches high, planted among the front wire stakes—pointed - the way in to the Boche trenches by an - S-shaped lane through their wire entanglements;<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_159" id="Page_159">[Pg 159]</a></span> - so shaped, of course, as to prevent it from being - easily seen from our line.</p> - - <p>We crawled along this lane a bit, far enough to - make sure that it was a clear fairway into the - Boche front trench. Then I got a careful bearing, - which I subsequently verified half a dozen times; - and we made our way back to Stinking Sap. I - haven't time to tell you of our cunning plan about - this discovery. That's what I'm to see the - Battery Commander about. But if we can make - the arrangement we want to make with the gunners, - we'll bring off a nice little bombing raid - to-night, and I'll let you know all about it in my - next letter. Meanwhile I must scurry off, or I - shall miss the Battery Commander in his rounds, - and there will be a telling-off for your</p> - - <p class="right"> - "<i>Temporary Gentleman.</i>" - </p> - - <hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_160" id="Page_160">[Pg 160]</a></span></p> - <div class="chapter"> - - <h2 class="nobreak"><a name="AN_ARTFUL_STUNT" id="AN_ARTFUL_STUNT"></a>AN ARTFUL STUNT</h2></div> - - <p>Out of trenches again. I wanted to write you - yesterday to tell you about the bombing raid of - our last night in; but we had a full day, and were - not relieved till late evening; so I got no chance of - writing till this afternoon. But I can tell you we - came out with our tails well up this time, and "A" - Company putting on more side than ever. I dare - say "D" Company, our closest rivals, will put up - something pretty startling when we go in again. - They're very determined to beat our record in - every kind of strafing, and I'm bound to say they - do put up some good shows. They've two more - officers than we have now, and the Boche has - discovered that they are very much out for business.</p> - - <p>Whether we get Bavarians or Prussians opposite - us it makes small odds; they've no earthly chance - of a quiet time while we're in the line. The - public at home read about the big things, and I - suppose when they read that "The rest of the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_161" id="Page_161">[Pg 161]</a></span> - Front was quiet," they're inclined to wonder how - we put our time in. Ah, well! the "quiet" of the - dispatches wouldn't exactly suit a conscientious - objector, I can assure you. It's a kind of "quiet" - that keeps Master Boche pretty thoroughly on the - hop. But on the whole, I'm rather glad the dispatches - are like that. I'd be sorry to see 'em - make a song and dance about these little affairs - of ours. Only, don't you run away with the idea - that when you read "Remainder of the Front - quiet," it means the Boche was being left alone; - for he isn't, not by long odds.</p> - - <p>You will remember that opposite our extreme - left I had discovered an S-shaped opening leading - through the barbed wire to the Boche front line, so - cut, no doubt, for the convenience of their patrols - at night. We decided that we would make use of - that opening for a bombing raid on our last night - in. Now, you must understand that one of the - chief uses of the barbed-wire entanglements is to - keep off the prowling bomber. The entanglements - extend to, say, forty to sixty paces from the - trench. You cannot hope to make accurate - practice in bomb-throwing at a distance of more - than thirty yards. Consequently, as I explained - before, to shy bombs into the average trench the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_162" id="Page_162">[Pg 162]</a></span> - bomber must worry his way through twenty paces - or so of barbed-wire entanglements. It is very - difficult to do that without attracting the attention - of sentries, and impossible to do it quickly with - or without noise. Hence you perceive the unpleasant - predicament of the bomber when he has - heaved his first bomb. He has offered himself - as a target to the Boche machine-guns and rifles - at a moment when he is in the midst of a maze - of barbed wire, from which he can only hope to - retreat slowly and with difficulty.</p> - - <p>Then why not cut a lane through the Boche - wire by means of shells, just before dark, and use - that to bomb from after dark? Excellent. Only, - if you were the Boche and we cut a lane through - your wire one evening just before dark, wouldn't - you train a machine-gun or two on that opening - so that you could sweep it with fire at any moment - you wished during the night; and wouldn't you - have a dozen extra rifles with keen eyes behind 'em - trained on the same spot; and wouldn't you be - apt to welcome that nice little lane as a trap in - which you could butcher English Tommies like - sitting pheasants? Wouldn't you now?</p> - - <p>Well, my business with the Battery Commander - was to get on his right side and induce him to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_163" id="Page_163">[Pg 163]</a></span> - expend a certain number of rounds from his dear - little guns that afternoon in cutting a nice line - through the Boche entanglements opposite the - extreme right of our line. It happened that, - without interfering with the sort of sinking fund - process by which the lords of the guns build up - their precious reserves of ammunition, this particular - lord was in a position to let us have a few - rounds.</p> - - <p>Of course, our attitude towards the gunners is - not always strictly reasonable, you know. We are - for ever wanting them to spend ammunition, while - their obvious duty is to accumulate ammunition - greedily and all the time against the hours of real - need, so that when these hours come they may - simply let everything rip—take the lid right off. - However, for reasons of their own, apart from - mine, it happened fortunately that the gunners - were not at all averse from giving that bit of the - Boche line a mild pounding; and, accordingly, - they promised us a nice neat lane on the extreme - right by nightfall.</p> - - <p>We said nothing about the beautiful S-shaped - lane on the extreme left, which Master Boche - thought was known only to himself. Observe - our extreme artfulness. We proceeded to train a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_164" id="Page_164">[Pg 164]</a></span> - grenade rifle on the extreme right, likewise a - machine-gun. Then we proceeded to tell off our - best bombers, and overhaul carefully a good - supply of hand-grenades for use in the S-shaped - opening on our extreme left.</p> - - <p>Until midnight there was a certain amount of - moonlight, and for several hours we kept the Boche - very busy on our extreme right, where, with a - trifling expenditure of ammunition, the guns had - cut a lane for us through his barbed wire. I've no - doubt at all that Fritz had several machine-guns - concentrated on that spot, and a bunch of rifle-men - too. He made up his mind he would have - the English on toast in that lane, and we - encouraged him to think so.</p> - - <p>You know, at night-time it is not very easy to - tell the difference between the explosion of a - hand-grenade and that of a rifle-grenade. But - whereas the hand-grenade could only be lobbed - in from among the wire, the rifle-grenade could - easily be sent over from our trench at that particular - spot on our right. So we sent 'em over at all - kinds of confusing intervals. And then, when - Boche opened machine-gun fire across the lane, - under the impression that our bombers were at - work there, we replied with bursts of machine-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_165" id="Page_165">[Pg 165]</a></span>gun - fire on his parapet opposite the lane, thereby, - I make no doubt, getting a certain number of - heads. It is certain they would be looking out, - and equally certain they would not be expecting - fire from our trenches, when they thought we had - our own bombers out there.</p> - - <p>It was an attractive game, and we kept it going - till nearly midnight. Then we stopped dead, - leaving them to suppose we had given up hope of - overcoming their watchfulness. We arranged to - reopen the ball at 1.30 <span class="smcap">A.M.</span> precisely, with rifle-grenades - and machine-gun fire as might prove - suitable, but with no end of a row in any case.</p> - - <p>At one o'clock I started from Stinking Sap, on - our extreme left, with twelve of our best bombers, - each carrying an apronful of bombs. There - wasn't a glimmer of any kind of light. We made - direct for the S-shaped opening, and lay down - outside the wire there. In our own trench, - before starting, we had made all arrangements. - I had six men on either side of me, and each man - knew precisely what his particular job was. - "The Peacemaker" never tires of insisting on that - principle, and, of course, he is right. Nothing is - any good unless it is worked out beforehand so - that each man knows exactly his job, and con<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_166" id="Page_166">[Pg 166]</a></span>centrates - on that without reference to anyone - else, or any hanging about waiting instructions.</p> - - <p>At 1.20 we began crawling down the S-shaped - opening in our proper order. At 1.30 the first - rifle-grenade ripped over from the extreme right - of our line. Others followed in quick succession, - and on the report of the sixth we jumped to our - feet and ran forward, extending to right and left - from me as we reached the inside of the wire, and - chucking our first bombs—thirteen of 'em—as we - got into position. It was so close there was no - possibility of missing, and I can tell you thirteen - bombs make some show when they all explode - beautifully right inside a trench a few yards in - front of you.</p> - - <p>Then we all scrambled over the parapet down - into the trench over a front of, say, thirty paces. - The six men on my right hand at once turned to - their right, and those on my left to their left. It - worked splendidly. Each party travelled along - the trench as quickly as it could, bombing over - each traverse before rounding it. The row was - terrific.</p> - - <p>In that order each party went along six successive - bays of the trench. Then immediately - they began to reverse the process, travelling more<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_167" id="Page_167">[Pg 167]</a></span> - slowly this time and bombing more thoroughly. - They were working back on their centre now, you - understand, still bombing outward, of course. - We had the luck to strike a splendid piece of trench - with no fewer than three important dug-outs in it, - and we made a shambles of each of them. It was - wildly exciting while it lasted, but I suppose we - were not more than four or five minutes in the - trench. We exploded thirty-two bombs during - those few minutes, every single one of them with - good effect; and when we scrambled out into the - S-shaped opening again we took with us an undamaged - Boche machine-gun and four prisoners, - one of them wounded and three unwounded. We - killed nine men in the trench, and a good round - number in the three dug-outs. I had a bunch of - maps and papers from the first of those dug-outs. - And we didn't improve their trench or the dug-outs. - Thirty-two bombs make a difference.</p> - - <p>The machine-gun hampered us a bit, but I can - tell you we made pretty good time getting across - to Stinking Sap. The Boches were hopelessly - confused by the whole business, and while we were - crossing to the extreme left of our own line they - were wildly blazing at our extreme right and pouring - flares and machine-gun fire over the lane<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_168" id="Page_168">[Pg 168]</a></span> - through their wire. Naturally, nobody was in the - least exposed on our right, except perhaps the - man operating the machine-gun, which probably - did good execution among Boche observers of - that neat little lane our artillery had cut for us.</p> - - <p>It was a delightful show and cost us nothing in - casualties, except two men very slightly wounded, - one in the right foot and the other in the left hand - and arm from our own bomb splinters. But, as - our good old bombing Sergeant said, it "fairly - put the wind up them bloomin' sauer-krauters." - Incidentally, and owing far more to the fine - behaviour of the men than to anything I did, it - earned a lot of bouquets from different quarters - for your</p> - - <p class="right"> - "<i>Temporary Gentleman</i>." - </p> - - <p>P.S.—Next day's report as served up to you - and the public in the newspapers at home would, - of course, and rightly enough no doubt, include our - sector in the "remainder of the Front," which was - "quiet." Or we might be included in a two-line - phrase about "minor activities," or "patrols were - active on various points of the line"—as they - certainly are all the time.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_169" id="Page_169">[Pg 169]</a></span></p> - <div class="chapter"> - - <h2 class="nobreak"><a name="THE_SPIRIT_OF_THE_MEN" id="THE_SPIRIT_OF_THE_MEN"></a>THE SPIRIT OF THE MEN</h2></div> - - <p>The parcels from W——'s arrived all safe and - sound, thanks to your careful arrangements, and - we are, in consequence, living in the lap of luxury. - The tinned fruit is specially appreciated, and very - good for us, I've no doubt. By the way, you will - be glad to know that the boiler-maker's suit in one - piece of water-proofed canvas is a huge success. - I wore it on that last bombing raid. For patrol - work, or wiring, for anything over the parapet, - and in the trench, too, at night-time, for instance, - I don't think there's anything to beat it. There's - nothing to catch or get in one's way, and it's a - great joy to keep one's ordinary clothes clean and - decent. On patrol it's better than oilskin, because - it's silent—doesn't rustle.</p> - - <p>I dare say you've heard that phrase—I forget - whose it is—about the backbone of the Army - being the non-commissioned man. I suspect it - was all right when it was written, and goodness - knows, there's not much the matter with the non-<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_170" id="Page_170">[Pg 170]</a></span>commissioned - man to-day. Only, there isn't the - difference that there was between the N.C.O. and - the "other ranks"—the men. The N.C.O. isn't - the separate type he was, because the N.C.O. - of to-day is so often the man of yesterday; promotion - having necessarily been rapid in the New - Army. We had to make our own N.C.O.'s from - the start. They're all backbone, now, men and - N.C.O.'s alike. And the officers are quite all right, - thank you, too. I doubt whether officers in any - Army have ever worked harder than the officers of - our New Army—the "Temporary Gentlemen," - you know—are working to-day. They have had - to work hard. Couldn't leave it to N.C.O.'s, you - see, because, apart from anything else, they've - had to make the N.C.O.'s out of privates; teach - 'em their job. So we're all backbone together.</p> - - <p>And when you hear some fellow saying "The - men are splendid," you need not think he's just - paying a conventional tribute or echoing a stereotyped - kind of praise. It's true; "true as death," - as Harry Lauder used to sing; it's as true as anything - I know. It's Gospel truth. The men are - absolutely and all the time splendid.</p> - - <p>I'm not an emotional sort of a chap, and I'm - sure before the war I never gave a thought to such<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_171" id="Page_171">[Pg 171]</a></span> - things; but, really, there is something incurably - and ineradicably fine about the rough average - Englishman, who has no surface graces at all. - You know the kind I mean. The decency of him - is something in his grain. It stands any test you - like to apply. It's the same colour all the way - through. I'm not emotional; but I don't mind - telling you, strictly between ourselves, that since - I've been out here in trenches I've had the water - forced into my eyes, not once, but a dozen times, - from sheer admiration and respect, by the action - of rough, rude chaps whom you'd never waste a - second glance on in the streets of London; men - who, so far from being exceptional, are typical - through and through; just the common, low-down - street average.</p> - - <p>That's the rough, rude, foul-mouthed kind, with - no manners at all, and many ways that you hate. - But I tell you, under the strain and stress of this - savage existence he shows up for what he really is, - under his rough, ugly hide: he's jewel all through - without an ounce of dirty Boche meanness or - cruelty in his whole carcass. You may hate his - manners if you like but you can't help loving him; - you simply can't help it if you work alongside of - him in the trenches in face of the enemy.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_172" id="Page_172">[Pg 172]</a></span></p> - - <p>And that's not the only type we've got that - makes you want to take your hat off to Tommy, - and that puts a real respect, which perhaps the - civilian doesn't understand, into your salutes. - (It's only silly puppy boys, or officers who've never - been in the presence of an enemy, or faced immediate - danger with men, who can't be bothered - properly and fully acknowledging salutes. You - watch a senior, one who's learned his lessons in - real service, and you'll find nothing grudging or - casual or half-hearted. We get into the French - way here, with a hint of the bow, a real salutation - in our salutes.) Even more striking, I sometimes - think, is the sterling stuff we find in types of men - in the ranks who haven't naturally anything rough - or hard about them: like my ex-draper chap, you - know, in No. 3 Platoon, Ramsay. We've a - number of the same calibre. He was a pillar of - his chapel at home and—of all things—a draper: - a gentle, soft-spoken dealer in ribbons and tape. - I told you, I think, how he fought with a man in - his section when he fancied he was not going to be - allowed to go out one night with a bombing party.</p> - - <p>You read about calling for volunteers. With - our lot it's hopeless to call for volunteers for a - dangerous job. The only thing to do would be to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_173" id="Page_173">[Pg 173]</a></span> - call for volunteers to stay behind. The other - thing's simply a way of calling out the whole - Company; and if it happens to be just half a - dozen you want, that's awkward.</p> - - <p>Then there's the matter of grousing—growling - among themselves about this and that. You - would be deceived about this until you got to - know them a bit. It's a queer thing, and not - easy to explain, but grousing is one of the passions - of their lives, or, perhaps it would be truer to say, a - favourite form of recreation. But, mark you this, - only when everything is going smoothly, and there - is nothing real to grumble about. It would seem - to be absolutely forbidden to growl when there's - anything to growl about; a sort of unwritten law - which, since we've been out here, anyhow, is never - transgressed.</p> - - <p>It's rather fine, this, you know, and very English. - So long as there's a little intermittent grousing - going on you can be quite sure of two things—that - there's nothing wrong and that the men are in - good spirits and content. If there's no grousing, - it means one of two things—either that the men - are angered about something, in which case they - will be unusually silent, or that we are up against - real difficulties and hardships involving real suffer<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_174" id="Page_174">[Pg 174]</a></span>ing, - in which case there will be a lot of chaffing and - joke-cracking and apparent merriment.</p> - - <p>Queer, isn't it? But I think it's a true description. - If a long day's hard labour—clearing out a - trench and building up a parapet, we'll say—is - undone and washed out just as it's finished by a - succession of Boche oil-cans, mortars, and general - bombardment, which also lays out a few good men, - and blows the next meal rations sky-high, so that - there's the prospect of a long night's extra hard - work where some rest had been expected, and all on - an empty stomach—then you'll hear no grousing - at all, but any number of jocular remarks:</p> - - <p>"I tell you, the Army of to-day's <i>all right</i>!" - "We don't get much pay, but, my word, we <i>do</i> see - life!" "Save me a lot o' trouble, this will. My - fightin' weight was goin' up a lot too fast, but - this'll save me givin' up my port wine an' turtle - soup!" Then some wag pretends to consult his - newspaper, and, looking up, announces that: "On - the remainder of the Front the night was comparatively - quiet." "Yes," says another, quoting - further from the imaginary news, "and the banquet - which had been arranged for 'A' Company - was pos'poned till the following day." "When it is - hoped," adds yet another joker, "that a number of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_175" id="Page_175">[Pg 175]</a></span> - prominent Boche prisoners will attend." Elaborate - winks and nods; and one man positively - licks his lips as he mutters: "Gosh! If only they - really <i>would</i> come over the sticks to-night; if - only they would!" "Reg'ler bloomin' pacifist, - isn't he?" remarks a student of the Press, "longin' - to welcome the gentle Hun with open arms, he is—not - 'arf!" "We'll welcome him all right, if - only the beggar 'd come. I'd like to use a section - or two of 'em for buildin' up this bloomin' parapet. - Be stiffer than these sand-bags full o' slush." - "Shame! An' you a yewmanitarian, too. Why, - how'd our poor chaps ever be able to stand the - smell of all them potted Huns, an' so close, too? - You're too harsh, mate; reg'ler Prussian, I call - you."</p> - - <p>So it goes on. It's a bitter cold night. They - are up nearly to their thighs in half-frozen slush. - Their day's work has been entirely undone in half - an hour, and has to be done over again without - any interval for rest; and the supper ration's - "gone West." You can hardly imagine what the - loss of a meal means, with a night like that ahead - of you, and occasional shells still dropping round - the bit you must repair. They look awful ruffians, - these chaps; caked all over with mud, hair and eye<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_176" id="Page_176">[Pg 176]</a></span>brows - and all; three or four days' stubble on their - chins, and all kinds of ribaldry on their lips. - They love their ease and creature comforts at - least as much as any conscientious objector could; - and God knows they are here as far removed - from ease and creature comfort as men well could - be—entirely of their own free will. And they - will carry on all night, cracking their simple jokes - and chaffing one another, and jostling each other to - get to the front if one or two are required for anything - extra dangerous. And the spirit that dictates - their little jokes, isn't it as fine as any shown - in bygone days by the aristocrats of France and - England? If you told these fellows they were - aristocrats, imagine how they'd take it! "'Ere, - 'op it! Not so much of it! Wotcher givin' us?"</p> - - <p>But aren't they—bless 'em! I tell you, when I - come to compare 'em with the fellows we're up - against across the way; with those poor devils - of machine-driven Boches, with their record of - brutish murder and swinishness in Belgium—why, - there's not a shadow of doubt in my mind they are - real aristocrats. The war has helped to make - them so, of course. But, whatever the cause, they - stand out, with the splendidly gallant <i>poilus</i> of - France: true aristocrats—five hundred miles of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_177" id="Page_177">[Pg 177]</a></span> - 'em from the North Sea to Switzerland, pitted - against the deluded and brutalised, machine-driven - Boches. There are no officers and machine - driving our fellows, or the cheery, jolly French - soldiers. Held back occasionally, directed always, - they may be. There's no need of any driving - on our side. Unquestioning obedience to an - all-powerful machine may be a useful thing in its - way. I know a better, though; and that's convinced, - willing, eager determination, guided—never - driven—by officers who share it, and share - everything else the men have and do. And that's - what there is all down our side of the line, from the - North Sea to Switzerland.</p> - - <p>But, look here; I've just read through my last - page, and it seems to me I've been preaching, ranting, - perhaps. I'd better stow it and get on with - my work. You see, one can't <i>talk</i> this kind of - thing; and yet—I don't know, one feels it pretty - often, and rather strongly. It's a bit of a relief - to tell you something about it—in writing. Even - to you, I probably shouldn't, by word of mouth, - you know. One doesn't, somehow; but this sort - of chatting with a pen is different. All I actually - want to say, though it has taken such a lot of - paper to say it on, is that the men really are<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_178" id="Page_178">[Pg 178]</a></span> - splendid. I love them. (It certainly is easier - writing than talking.) I want you to know about - it; to know something about these chaps—they - come from every class of the community—so - that you'll love 'em, too. I wish we could make - every woman, and every man and child, too, in - England understand how fine these fellows are, - and how fine, really, the life they're leading is.</p> - - <p>For sheer hardness and discomfort there's - nothing in the life of the poorest worker in England - to compare with it. They are never out of instant - danger. And the level of their spirits is far higher - than you'd find it in any model factory or workshop - at home. Death itself they meet with little - jokes; I mean that literally. And the daily round - of their lives is simply full of little acts of self-sacrifice, - generosity, and unstudied, unnoted heroism, - such as famous reputations are based upon in - civil life in peace time. I feel I can't make it - plain, as it deserves to be. I wish I could. But - you must just accept it because I say it, and love - 'em all—the French as well as ours—because - they've made themselves loved by your</p> - - <p class="right"> - "<i>Temporary Gentleman</i>." - </p> - - <hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_179" id="Page_179">[Pg 179]</a></span></p> - <div class="chapter"> - - <h2 class="nobreak"><a name="AN_UNHEALTHY_BIT_OF_LINE" id="AN_UNHEALTHY_BIT_OF_LINE"></a>AN UNHEALTHY BIT OF LINE</h2></div> - - <p>Rather to the general surprise, we have been - moved into a new sector of the line, immediately - south of what we called "our own." We have - not been told why—the Olympians do not deal in - whys and wherefores—but, according to gossip, - we can take our choice between the wish to make us - all familiar with the general lie of the land round - here, to be the better prepared for a push; and the - undoubted fact that a new Division is being moved - into the line, and that our move southward facilitates - this. Perhaps the real reason of the move - is a mixture of both these; but, whether or no, - the move itself provides striking evidence of the - marked differences which exist between different - parts of the line, and the extremely narrow and - circumscribed nature of the knowledge one gets - of the Front while serving in trenches.</p> - - <p>Our "B" Company is holding just now the subsection - which actually adjoins the right of the - sector we used to hold. We are on the right of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_180" id="Page_180">[Pg 180]</a></span> - "B," and "C" is on our right, with "D" back in - the support line. Even "B's" bit, though it does - adjoin our old beat, differs greatly from that; - and our present short line is hemispheres away - from the sector we knew before. There's not - very much of it—about half the length of the line - we last held—but what there is is hot and strong, - I can tell you. The way in which "B" Company's - bit differs is chiefly that it's in sandy soil, instead of - all clay, and so is much drier and cleaner, more - habitable in every way than anything we are - accustomed to. But our bit, variously known - as Petticoat Lane (why, I can't imagine), Cut-Throat - Alley (obvious enough), and The Gut—well, - our bit is, as "the Peacemaker" said directly - he saw it, "very interesting." I think that's - about the kindest thing you can say of it; and - interesting it certainly is.</p> - - <p>To begin with, the greatest distance between - any one spot in it and the Boche front line is - seventy or eighty yards; and there's a place at - which it's only half that. But the salient point in - the whole sector is this: the half of our line that is - seventy or eighty yards from the Boche line has - between it and the Boche line a string of craters, - the far lips of which are not more than fifteen<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_181" id="Page_181">[Pg 181]</a></span> - to twenty paces from Fritz's sentries. These - craters are sometimes occupied by the Boche - and sometimes by us; but nobody attempts to - hold them by day; they don't give shelter enough - for that; and the betting as to who is to hold them - on any given night is about even.</p> - - <p>You might almost say, "But why should anybody - want to hold the beastly things?" And if - you ever set foot in one of them, you'd say it - with some feeling, for it's like trying to walk, or - rather to crawl, in a bottomless pit of porridge. - When dusk is coming on of an evening half a dozen - of our bombers may start crawling from our - parapet, making for the nearest crater. Maybe - Fritz is dull and misses them. Maybe he opens - such a hot fire they have to shin back quick. Maybe, - just as we are getting close to the near edge of - a crater, and flattering ourselves we've been a bit - too nippy for the Boche this time, we get a rousing - welcome from the crater itself, in the shape of three - or four well-aimed bombs among us. Then those - of us who are still able to think realise that the - Boche has been a bit beforehand and got there - first. Next night the process is reversed. During - last night those confounded craters changed hands - three times, remaining at last, I am glad to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_182" id="Page_182">[Pg 182]</a></span> - say, with us. We lost one man killed and two - wounded. But we brought back two wounded - and one dead Boche, and we reckon to have - knocked out at least six others.</p> - - <p>It was a nightmare of a night, to tell the truth, - but nothing big enough to get into dispatches. - One point about the holding of these craters is - that it enables you to lob bombs, or almost anything - else for that matter, into the Boche front - trench. Down here we really are learning something - about oil-cans, mortars, and short range - heavy stuff generally. It's very much hand-to-hand - warfare, and, I suppose because of that, - much more savage and more primitive than anything - we've seen before. There practically isn't - any No Man's Land here. It's just our trench - and their trench and the muddy, bloody cock-pit - between, all churned into a slushy batter by high - explosives, and full of all manner of ghastly remains. - Souvenirs! By Heavens! the curio hunters - could find all they wanted here within a few - yards of where I'm sitting, but not many of 'em - would have the spunk to gather 'em in. You see, - I haven't any great respect for the souvenir - hunter. He seems a ghoulish sort of a creature to - me, and I can't believe the cynical old "Peace<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_183" id="Page_183">[Pg 183]</a></span>maker" - when he says the bulk of them, and all - the more inveterate sort, are women.</p> - - <p>The C.O. tells "the Peacemaker" he is so - arranging things that no Company will get more - than four days on end in Petticoat Lane, and then - the other three days of the turn in trenches, in the - support line, where Battalion Headquarters is. - "A" Company, of course, takes glory to itself - for having been the first to be sent in here, and I - think this fully compensates them for the fact that - nobody's had any rest worth speaking about since - we got in. We shall probably do better in that - respect when we have time to get used to the - change. In fact, I can see a difference already in - the men's attitude. But, mind you, the change is - radical, from two hundred yards' interval between - yourself and Fritz, down to fifty yards. It - affects every moment of your life, and every mortal - thing you do. More, it actually affects what you - say. You don't make any telephonic arrangements - about patrols and that sort of thing here. - We are learning German at a great rate. But - it was very startling to our fellows the first night, - when they found they could hear voices in the - enemy line. It seemed to bring Fritz and his - ingenious engines very close indeed.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_184" id="Page_184">[Pg 184]</a></span></p> - - <p>But already the men have begun to crack their - little jokes about it, and pretend to be careful - about setting down a canteen of tea or a bit of - bread lest one of "them bloomin' sauer-krauters - lean over and pick it up before you can turn round—hungry - blighters!" I confess I'm conscious - that the nearness represents a great deal of added - nerve strain; but, thank goodness, the men don't - seem to feel it a bit. They're just as jolly as ever. - But it is mighty intimate and primitive, you - know.</p> - - <p>Imagine! The first thing I laid my hand on - when I got into a crater on our first night, after - we'd bombed Fritz out of it, was the face of a - wounded Boche; and he bit my little finger to the - bone, so that I had to have it washed and dressed - by the M.O. for fear of poisoning. It's nothing; - but I mention it as an instance of the savage - primitiveness of this life at close quarters with - the Boche.</p> - - <p>There's simply no end to his dodgy tricks here. - Three or four of 'em will cry out for help from a - crater—in English, you know—and pretend to be - our own men, wounded and unable to move, or - Boches anxious to give themselves up. And then, - if anyone's soft enough to get over the parapet<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_185" id="Page_185">[Pg 185]</a></span> - to go and lend a hand, they open a hot fire, or - wait till we get very near and then bomb. We had - verbal warnings in plenty from the Company we - relieved, but it's experience that teaches; and, - whilst they may not be brilliant tricksters—they're - not,—our fellows will at all events never allow the - same trick to be worked off twice on us.</p> - - <p>By his fondness for all such petty tricks as these—and, - of course, they have dozens of dirtier ones - than this—the Boche has rather shut the door on - chivalry. Given half a chance, the natural inclination - of our men is to wage war as they would - play cricket—like sportsmen. You've only to - indicate to them that this or that is a rule of the - game—of any game—and they're on it at once. - And if you indicated nothing, of their own choice - they'd always play roughly fair and avoid the - dirty trick by instinct. But the Boche washes - all that out. Generosity and decency strike - him as simply foolishness. And you cannot - possibly treat him as a sportsman, because he'll - do you down at every turn if you do; and here in - Petticoat Lane being done down doesn't only mean - losing your money. As a rule, you haven't any - of that to lose. It means—"going West for - keeps"; that is, being killed. It's that sort of<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_186" id="Page_186">[Pg 186]</a></span> - thing that has made Petticoat Lane life savage - and primitive; and the fact that it's so close and - intimate as to be pressing on you all round all - the time, that is what gives the additional nerve - strain.</p> - - <p>It is, of course, a great place for little raids. - The trenches are so close that you're no sooner out - of your own than you're on top of theirs. And I - take it as evidence of the moral superiority being - on this side of the line, that we see very much more - of their trenches than they ever see of ours. It - is a great deal more difficult to repair trenches - here than it was when we were a couple of hundred - yards away from the enemy, because of the frequency - of the oil-cans and bombs. The consequence - is that, from the point of view of the cover - they give, both our trenches and the Boches' - are much inferior to those we had before. But, - curiously enough, we have some very decent dug-outs - here, deep and well protected.</p> - - <p>In fact, take it all round, we are not so badly - off at all. And "interesting" the place most certainly - is. ("The Peacemaker" generally means - "dangerous" when he says "interesting.") There's - something doing in the strafing line pretty nearly - all the time; and strafing is a deal more interesting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_187" id="Page_187">[Pg 187]</a></span> - than navvying, pumping, and mud-shovelling. - The chances for little shows of one sort and another - are more numerous here than where we were before. - We've tried one or two already, and when we get - back into the support line you shall have full - particulars from your somewhat tired but quite - jolly</p> - - <p class="right"> - "<i>Temporary Gentleman</i>." - </p> - - <hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_188" id="Page_188">[Pg 188]</a></span></p> - <div class="chapter"> - - <h2 class="nobreak"><a name="THEY_SAY_mdash" id="THEY_SAY_mdash"></a>THEY SAY——</h2></div> - - <p>We were relieved in Petticoat Lane by "D" - Company last night, and took the place they'd - held in the support line; "a corner of Heaven - itself," of course, after The Gut. And I have - had a most luxurious and delightful day to-day, - out of trenches altogether.</p> - - <p>Our O.C. "the Peacemaker"—you do remember, - don't you, that the Officer Commanding the - Battalion is the C.O., and the Officer Commanding - the Company the O.C.: saves confusion—is an - awfully good chap. He didn't say anything about - it, but I feel sure he put me on my job of to-day—chose - me for it—because he thought it would be - good for me. He was ordered to send an officer - to arrange about billets for the Company in —— - ready for when we go out. Taffy's been a bit - under the weather in Petticoat Lane, and is able - to get a rest here in support. This meant rather - more sticking to it for me in the front line, and, as - a matter of fact, I didn't get an hour's sleep while<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_189" id="Page_189">[Pg 189]</a></span> - we were there. We had little strafes going most - of the time, and I was rather cheap when we came - out last night; bit shaky, you know; that's all. - Two Boche mines were exploded in The Gut - while we were there; both with extraordinarily little - loss to us. But I was lifted out of the trench by - one of 'em; and I suppose these things do indirectly - affect one a bit, somehow, even when there is - nothing to show for it; at all events, when they - are combined with shortage of sleep.</p> - - <p>Anyhow, I'm as right as ninepence to-night, and - had a fine sleep after midnight yesterday. And - to-day, with "the Peacemaker's" horse for - company, I've been playing the country gentleman - at large and fixing up billets for the Company, and - done pretty well for 'em, too. It was something - of a race between Grierson of "D" and myself - for the best officers' mess and sleeping quarters in - ——; but Grierson hadn't much chance, really. - He hasn't even my smattering of French, and his - O.C. had not lent him a horse.</p> - - <p>The goodwife at the place I've got for ourselves - is a torrential talker, and in rounding up the boys - and girls working on her farm she shows a bit of - a temper; but I'm certain she's a jolly capable - manager, and she has promised to cook for us,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_190" id="Page_190">[Pg 190]</a></span> - which will mean a fine change from the batman's - efforts in that line. Also the billets themselves - are good, those for the men being the best I've - seen anywhere: dry as a chip, and thoroughly - sheltered from the wind. We shall be in clover - for our week out, especially as I think —— is a bit - too far back to admit of our being on trench - fatigues at all while out.</p> - - <p>I did enjoy the pottering about on my own, and - the nearest firing being three or four miles away - all the time, made everything seem so extraordinarily - peaceful after the roaring racket and - straining watchfulness of Cut-Throat Alley; where - one's eyes sort of ache from trying to look all - ways at once, and one's ears and head generally - get dead from the effort of recording the precise - meaning of each outstanding roar in the continuous - din. Also I met two or three interesting - people, including the Town Major in ——.</p> - - <p>I had some grub about one o'clock in a big - <i>estaminet</i>, almost a restaurant, really; and it was - most interesting, after the trenches, to listen to - the gossip and eat without feeling you had to - look out for anything. There are a number of - French residents left in this place, and this makes - it different from the village we were last in, just<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_191" id="Page_191">[Pg 191]</a></span> - behind the line, where the inhabitants have left, - and the place is purely a camp, and partly in ruins - at that. This place still has a natural human sort - of life of its own, you know. And there are - women in it, and a priest or two, and cows and - sheep, and a town-crier, and that sort of thing—something - fascinatingly human about all that, - though it is within four miles of the firing line.</p> - - <p>The café was simply full of rumours and gossip. - Military gossip is, of course, taboo with strangers - and civilians, and rightly, since one cannot be sure - who is and who is not a spy. But I suppose there's - no harm in it among people who can recognise - each other's uniforms and badges. Anyhow, I - heard a lot to-day, which may or may not have - anything in it.</p> - - <p>The things that interested me most were things - about our own bit of front, and there were two - definite reports about this. First, I heard that - we are to throw out a new front-line trench to bridge - the re-entrant south of Petticoat Lane. And then - I heard we are to make a push to collar the Boche - front line on the bend opposite us, because a few - hundred yards of line there would mean a lot to us - in the straightening of our front generally, and in - washing out what is undoubtedly a strong corner<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_192" id="Page_192">[Pg 192]</a></span> - for the Boche now, because it gives him some fine - enfilading positions. If this were brought off it - would wash out The Gut altogether as firing line, - and that in itself would be a godsend. Also it - would mean a real push, which is naturally what - we all want. We think the fact of that extra - Division having been fitted into our line rather - endorses the report, and are feeling rather bucked - in consequence. The whole Battalion, and for - that matter the whole Division, is just spoiling - for the chance of a push, and I doubt whether we've - a man who wouldn't volunteer for the front line - of the push at this moment, and jolly glad of the - chance.</p> - - <p>I said in my last letter that I'd tell you about - our little strafing stunts while we were in Petticoat - Lane. But, really, this new prospect of a push - and the report about the new front-line trench - to be cut make them seem pretty small beer, and - quite a long way off now, anyhow. You remember - I told you there was a startling difference between - the left of our present sector and the right of the - one we were in before. It wasn't only the difference - between clay and sand, you know. It was that, - whereas the right of the old sector was hundreds - of yards away from the Boche—as much as six<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span> - and seven hundred in parts—the left of the present - sector runs down to sixty or seventy yards where - it joins Petticoat Lane.</p> - - <p>That means a big re-entrant in the line, of course, - and a part where our front runs almost at right - angles to Fritz's, instead of parallel with it. The - new trench would be to bridge the mouth of this - re-entrant, and equalise the distance between our - line and the Boche's, right along. Apart from - anything else, it would make any subsequent - push much easier. It's a low-lying, wet, exposed - bit, that re-entrant; but this wouldn't matter if - we were just going to use it as a jumping-off place, - which is what we hope.</p> - - <p>However, as there's no official news, one mustn't - think too much about it.</p> - - <p>It seems there's been some sickness at our - Brigade Headquarters, which is a château marked - large on the map, though out of sight from the - Boche line. The sickness among the orderlies - was attributed to something queer about the - drains, and I suppose the thing was reported on. - Anyhow, as the story I heard to-day goes, a - tremendous swell arrived in a car to have a look - at the place; an Olympian of the first water, - you understand. No doubt I should be executed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_194" id="Page_194">[Pg 194]</a></span> - by means of something with boiling oil in it if I - mentioned his name. As he stepped from his car - outside the château two shells landed, one on the - lawn and one in the shrubbery. The Olympian - sniffed at Fritz's insolence. Before he got into - the doorway another shell landed very near his - car, and spattered it with mud from bonnet to - differential. The august one is reported to have - greeted the Brigadier by saying rather angrily:</p> - - <p>"This is obviously a most unhealthy spot, sir; - most unhealthy. Ought never to have been - chosen."</p> - - <p>But a better yarn was the one a subaltern of the - R.E. told me as I was jogging back to the trenches. - This was about the sector next but one north of us. - It seems a Boche 'plane was being chased by a - British 'plane, and making heavy weather of it. - The Englishman had perforated the other fellow's - wings very badly, and partly knocked out his - engine, too. Anyhow, the Boche 'plane was - underdog, and descending rapidly midway between - our front line and his own, right over the - centre of No Man's Land. Naturally the men - in the trenches on both sides were wildly excited - about it. The story is they forgot everything - else and were simply lining the parapets, yelling<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_195" id="Page_195">[Pg 195]</a></span> - encouragement to their respective airmen as - though they had front seats at Brooklands or the - Naval and Military Tournament. Seeing this, a - pawky old Scot—it was a Highland regiment on our - side—slipped quietly down on the fire-step in the - midst of the excitement, and began making accurate - but leisurely target practice; carefully picking - out Boches forty or fifty yards apart from each - other, so as not to give the show away too soon. - He did pretty well, but was bitterly disappointed - when the Boche's Archibald forced our 'plane - to rise, just as the Boche airman managed to jigger - his machine somehow into his own support lines, - and the spectators took cover.</p> - - <p>"Och, no a'thegither sae badly, surr," says - Scotty to his Platoon Commander. "Ah managed - to get nine o' the feckless bodies; but Ah - hopet for the roond dizen!"</p> - - <p>Rather nice, wasn't it?</p> - - <p>Those little shows of ours in Cut-Throat Alley - were practically all bombing, you know; but we did - rather well in the matter of prisoners taken in the - craters, and of Boches otherwise accounted for. - Our own casualties for the four days were two - killed—both in my Platoon, and both men with - wives at home, I grieve to say; thundering good<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_196" id="Page_196">[Pg 196]</a></span> - chaps—and six wounded; two only slightly. We - reckon to have got twenty or thirty Boches - wounded, and at least ten killed; and there is no - sort of reckoning needed about the eleven prisoners - we certainly did take in the craters and sent - blindfolded down to Headquarters. I believe - this beats the record of the Company we relieved, - which, of course, knew the place better; and our - C.O. is pleased with us. I have to go now and - tell off a small carrying party. Though feeling a - bit shaky yesterday, I'm as right as right can be - again now, so mind, you have no earthly reason to - worry about your</p> - - <p class="right"> - "<i>Temporary Gentleman</i>." - </p> - - <p>P.S.—"The Peacemaker" has just got word - from Battalion Headquarters itself that it's - perfectly correct about the new front-line trench - to be cut; and it is believed "A" Company is to - have something to do with it. So that's real news; - and we feel sure it means a push to come. Everybody - very cock-a-hoop.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_197" id="Page_197">[Pg 197]</a></span></p> - <div class="chapter"> - - <h2 class="nobreak"><a name="THE_NEW_FRONT_LINE" id="THE_NEW_FRONT_LINE"></a>THE NEW FRONT LINE</h2></div> - - <p>A turn out, a turn in, and now we're out again, - and barring three Field Service post cards, I - believe all that time has gone without my writing - to you. You must try to forgive me. I can - assure you things have been happening. There - hasn't been much idle time. When I last wrote - we had only begun to talk about the new front - trench, hadn't we? Things certainly have hummed - since then.</p> - - <p>The first move was a tour of inspection and - survey of the proposed new line, by the O.C. of our - Field Coy. of R.E., with some other officers. - Somewhat to my surprise—I suppose he really - ought not to expose himself to that extent—our - C.O. accompanied this party. The next night, - when the pegs were driven in, definitely marking - the whole new line, the O.C.R.E. allowed me to go - with him. The new line, as we marked it out, - was 760 yards long; from down near The Gut - right across to what used to be our centre, cutting<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_198" id="Page_198">[Pg 198]</a></span> - off the whole big re-entrant and equalising the - whole sector's distance from the Boche.</p> - - <p>The next day our C.O. sent for O.C. Companies, - and "the Peacemaker" took me along when he - went, as I'd been over the ground, and he guessed - the pow-wow would be about the new trench. - The C.O. told us all about it, and what the ideas - of the authorities were. He said it was the sort - of job which might possibly prove costly in lives. - But it had got to be done, and he was of opinion - that if everyone concerned made up his mind - never for a moment to relax the care and watchfulness - he would use in the first half-hour, the job - might be done with comparatively few casualties. - He talked longer than he generally does, and I - think he felt what he said a good deal. He said - he never expected to have one moment's anxiety - as to the bearing of any officer, N.C.O., or man of - the Battalion in the face of danger. He knew - very well we were all right on that score. But - what he did want to impress upon us, as officers, - was that our duty went a good deal beyond that.</p> - - <p>"I know very well that none of you would ever - show fear," he said; "and I think you are satisfied - that your N.C.O.'s and men will never fail you in - that respect. But, remember, your greatest asset<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_199" id="Page_199">[Pg 199]</a></span> - is the confidence the men have in you. Never - do anything to endanger that. If you use all the - care and judgment you can, and if each one of - your men understands exactly what the job before - him is, and your influence is such as to prevent - anyone from losing his head, no matter what - happens, then the casualty list will be low. Every - casualty you prevent on a job like this is as good - as an enemy casualty gained. When we have to - lose our men, let us lose them fighting, as they - themselves would choose to go down if go down - they must. But in this job of the new trench, - we pit our wits and our coolness and discipline - and efficiency against those of the Boche; and it's - your job to see to it that the work is carried - through at the minimum cost in man-power."</p> - - <p>He said other things, of course, but that was the - gist of it, and I think we were all impressed. He's - a martinet all right, is our C.O.; and, as you know, - his tongue is a two-edged sword. He's as stern a - man as I ever knew; but, by Gad! he's just, and, - above and before all else, he is so emphatically - a man.</p> - - <p>Well, the upshot of our plans was that "A" - Company was to provide the covering party and - be responsible for the tactical aspect of the show,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_200" id="Page_200">[Pg 200]</a></span> - and "C" Company—all miners and farm workers—with - one Platoon of "D," was to do the digging, - for a start, anyhow. The R.E. were to run the - wire entanglement right along the front of the new - line, and this was to be the first operation. It was - obvious that as much as possible must be done - during the first night, since, once he had seen the - job, as he would directly daylight came, the - Boche might be relied on to make that line tolerably - uncomfortable for anyone working near it - without cover.</p> - - <p>While we were out of trenches that week our - fellows were pretty busy during the first half of - each night carrying material up to the front line. - There was a good number of miles of barbed wire to - go up, with hundreds of iron screw standards for - the wire, and hundreds more of stakes; a lot of - material altogether, and I am bound to say I - think the R.E. arranged it very well. They had - all their material so put together and stowed - up at the front as to make for the maximum of - convenience and the minimum of delay when they - came to handle it in the open and under fire—as - men always must be when doing anything in - No Man's Land.</p> - - <p>Our men were bursting with swank over the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">[Pg 201]</a></span> - Company's being chosen to act as covering party; - delighted to think that what they regarded as the - combatant side of the show was theirs. Indeed, I - rather think a lot of 'em made up their minds that - they were going to utilise the opportunity of having - a couple of hundred men out close to the Boche - trenches for a real strafe of the men in those - trenches. "The Peacemaker" had to get 'em - together and talk very seriously and straight - about what our responsibilities were in this job. - This was necessary to make the beggars realise - that ours was a defensive and not an offensive - stunt; in which success or failure depended mainly - upon our ability to be perfectly silent.</p> - - <p>"All the scrapping will come later," said "the - Peacemaker." "We mustn't invite one single - bullet while we've a couple of hundred men behind - us using picks and shovels, and working against - time to get cover. If Boches come along our line, - it will be our job to strafe 'em with our naked - fingers if we possibly can. The last thing we'll - do will be to fire a shot. And the one thing that - must not happen, not in any case at all—no, not - if the whole Prussian Guard turns out—is for a - single Boche in any circumstances whatever to - get through our line."</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">[Pg 202]</a></span></p> - - <p>And that was the basis on which we tackled - the job. Of course, the O.C. knew better than to - try to handle his Company as a Company on the - night. Orders could only be given in whispers, - you understand. As a matter of fact, in all such - work, as in night attacks, one must be able to - rely, not alone on Platoon Sergeants and senior - N.C.O.'s, but on Corporals and Section Commanders. - And if they have not been trained so - that you can rely on their carrying out instructions - exactly, one's chances of success are pretty small.</p> - - <p>It was dark soon after five, and by a quarter to - six we were moving out into the open. One and - two Platoons went out down Stinking Sap, myself - in command, and three and four Platoons went out - from just a little way above Petticoat Lane. I led - my lot and "the Peacemaker" led the other half-Company, - the idea being that when he and I met - we should know that we were in our right position, - and could stay there. We moved with about - three paces' interval between men, and kept three - or four connecting files out on our inside flank - and a couple on the outer flank; the business of - the inside men being to steer us at an average - distance of forty paces to the front of the foremost - line of pegs, which was the line to be followed<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">[Pg 203]</a></span> - by the barbed-wire entanglements; the line of the - new trench itself being well inside that again.</p> - - <p>This meant that one flank of our line, just above - Petticoat Lane, would rest within 150 yards of the - Boche front trench, and the other flank about 225 - yards. We had drilled the whole business very - carefully into the men themselves, as well as the - Section Commanders and Sergeants. We got out - on our line without a sound; and then "the Peacemaker" - made his way back to Stinking Sap to - report to Captain ——, of the R.E., that we had - taken on the duty of protection and were all ready - for his men to go ahead. He marched his carriers - out then, stringing them out along the whole - line, and the whole of his Company set to work - putting up the screen of wire entanglements behind - our line.</p> - - <p>This whole business has given me a lot of respect - for the R.E.; a respect which, I think, is pretty - generally felt throughout the Service. The way - they planned and carried out that wiring job was - fine. No talk and no finicking once they were in - the open; every last peg and length of binding - wire in its right place; sand-bags at hand to fold - over anything that needed hammering; every - man told off in advance, not just to make himself<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">[Pg 204]</a></span> - as generally useful as he could, but quite definitely - to screw in standards, or drive in stakes, or fix - pegs, or carry along the rolls of wire, or strain the - stays, or lace in the loose stuff, as the case might - be. Every man knew precisely what his particular - part was, and went straight at it without a word - to or from anyone.</p> - - <p>Meanwhile, I was working carefully along from - end to end of our line, checking up the intervals, - altering a man's position where necessary, and - making sure that all our men were properly in - touch and keeping their right line, watching out - well and making no sound. Nobody in our lot - moved, except the officers. All the others lay - perfectly still. We kept moving up and down in - front the whole time, except when flares were up - or machine-gun fire swept across our way, and then, - of course, we dropped as flat as we could.</p> - - <p>But no machine-gun spoke on that sector, not - once while the wire was going up. Before half-past - seven "the Peacemaker" came along to me - with orders to lead my men off to Stinking Sap. - The wiring was finished. There had been a - hundred and fifty men at it, and at that moment - the last of 'em was entering Stinking Sap—casualties, - nil.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">[Pg 205]</a></span></p> - - <p>"The Peacemaker" marched his half-Company - round the end of the wire above Petticoat Lane, - and I took mine round the end in front of Stinking - Sap-head. Then we wheeled round to the rear - of the new wire entanglement and marched out - again, immediately in rear of it, till "the Peacemaker" - and I met, as we had previously met in - front. So we took up our second and final position - and got down to it exactly as we had done in the - first position.</p> - - <p>When the O.C. reported that we were in position, - "C" Company marched out, half from each - end of the line, under their own officers, but with - the O.C.R.E. in command, and his officers helping. - They were at three yards' interval. There was a - peg for every man, and the first operation was for - each man to dig a hole in which he could take - cover. It had all been thought out beforehand, - and every man knew just what to do. Their - instructions were to dig as hard as ever they knew - how, but silently, till they got cover. All the - sections were working against each other, and the - O.C. Company was giving prizes for the first, - second, and third sections, in order of priority, - to get underground.</p> - - <p>We couldn't see them, of course, and had all the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">[Pg 206]</a></span> - occupation we cared for, thank you, in looking - after our line. I was glad to find, too, that we - could only hear them when we listened. They - were wonderfully quiet. It's a wet clayey soil, - and they had been carefully drilled never to let - one tool touch another. I am told they went at - it like tigers, and that the earth fairly flew from - their shovels. In our line there wasn't a sound, - and every man's eyes were glued on his front.</p> - - <p>The evening had been amazingly quiet, nothing - but desultory rifle fire, and unusually little of - that. At a quarter to nine a Boche machine-gun - dead opposite the centre of my half-Company - began to traverse our line—his real objective, of - course, being, not our line, but the line of trench, - the old fire trench, in our rear. I know now that - at that moment the slowest of "C's" diggers was - underground. That burst of fire did not get a - single man; not a scratch.</p> - - <p>A fine rain, very chilling, began to fall, and got - less fine as time went on. The wind rose a bit, - too, and drove the rain in gusts in our faces. By - good luck it was coming from the Boche trenches. - At half-past ten they sent over ten or twelve - whizz-bangs, all of which landed in rear of our - old front line, except two that hit its parapet.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">[Pg 207]</a></span> - Rifle fire was a little less desultory now, but nothing - to write home about. They gave us an occasional - belt or two from their machine-guns, - but our men were lying flat, and the diggers were - below ground, so there was nothing to worry about - in that.</p> - - <p>By half-past eleven I confess I was feeling - deuced tired. One had been creeping up and - down the line for over five hours, you know; but it - wasn't that. One spends vitality; it somehow oozes - out of you on such a job. I never wanted anything - in my life so much as I wanted to get my half-Company - through that job without casualties. - And there was one thing I wanted even more than - that—to make absolutely certain that no prowling - Boche patrol got through my bit of the line.</p> - - <p>Down on our flank at The Gut there were half a - dozen little bombing shows between six and midnight, - and one bigger scrap, when the Hun exploded - a mine and made a good try to occupy its crater, - but, as we learned next day, was hammered out of - it after some pretty savage hand-to-hand work. - Farther away on the other flank the Boche artillery - was unusually busy, and, at intervals, sent over - bursts of heavy stuff, the opening salvoes of which - rather jangled one's nerves. You see, "A"<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">[Pg 208]</a></span> - Company could have been extinguished in a very - few minutes had Boche known enough to go about - it in the right way.</p> - - <p>If only one enterprising Boche, working on his - own—a sniper, anybody,—without getting through - our line just gets near enough to make out that it is - a line, and then gets back to his own trenches, our - little game will be up, I thought. It wasn't - restful. The men were getting pretty stiff, as - you may guess, lying still in the wet hour after - hour.</p> - - <p>At half-past two "the Peacemaker" came along - and whispered to me to take my men in: "Finished - for to-night."</p> - - <p>I wasn't sorry. I put my senior Sergeant on to - lead, and myself brought up the rear. I was, of - course, the last to get into Stinking Sap, and my - Platoon Sergeant was waiting for me there to tell - me that not one of our men had a scratch, nor yet - a single man of "C" Company. One man of No. - 3 Platoon, in "the Peacemaker's" half-Company, - had a bullet through his shoulder; a Blighty, and - no more. And that was our record.</p> - - <p>But, look here, I absolutely must stop and - censor some of the Platoon's letters before turning - in. I'll write again as soon as ever I can and tell<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">[Pg 209]</a></span> - you the rest of it. But—a trench nearly 800 - yards long, wire entanglements in front—casualties, - one man wounded! Nobody felt much happier - about it than your</p> - - <p class="right"> - "<i>Temporary Gentleman.</i>" - </p> - - <hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">[Pg 210]</a></span></p> - <div class="chapter"> - - <h2 class="nobreak"><a name="A_GREAT_NIGHTS_WORK" id="A_GREAT_NIGHTS_WORK"></a>A GREAT NIGHT'S WORK</h2></div> - - <p>In my last letter I think I told you all about our - first night's work on the new trench; how it was - cut, and the wire entanglements run out, between - six in the evening and half-past two in the morning; - and the casualty list just one man wounded! It - may not seem much to you, but to us it seemed - almost miraculous. I think the powers that be - would have been quite pleased with us if we had - managed it with, say, thirty or forty casualties.</p> - - <p>Two and a half hours or so later, round about - five o'clock, although you would have thought we - should all be pretty tired, as no doubt we were - (though not so tired, I fancy, as we mostly felt at - midnight), everyone was interested in turning out - for the morning Stand-to. We were all anxious - to watch Mr. Boche's first glimpse of our night's - work; not that we could see the expression on the - faces of the Germans or hear their comments; - but we could imagine a good deal of it, and wanted - to see just what happened, anyhow.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">[Pg 211]</a></span></p> - - <p>A few sentry groups had been posted along the - new line when we came in from it at half-past two; - but these were withdrawn at the first glimmerings - of coming dawn, since we could watch the front as - closely from the original fire-trench, and it was - possible, of course, that Fritz might just plaster - the new line with shrap. and whizzes and so on as - soon as he clapped eyes on it.</p> - - <p>I was watching before the first greying of the - dawn, from a sniper's post pretty close to the - Boche line down near the beginning of Petticoat - Lane. The first thing I made out in the Boche - line, when the light was still only very faint, was - the head of a sentry raised well above the parapet - level, as he stared out at the nearest bit of our - new wire. I turned half round and grabbed a rifle - from a man in the trench, but the Boche had disappeared - when I looked round again. Then the - idea struck me, "Perhaps he'll bring an officer to - look; a sergeant, anyhow." So I drew a very - careful bead on that spot, and got my rifle comfortably - settled on a mud rest.</p> - - <p>Sure enough, in a couple of minutes that sentry's - head bobbed up again in the same spot. I held - my fire, waiting, on the officer theory. And, next - moment, another head rose beside the sentry's,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">[Pg 212]</a></span> - and came up a good deal less cautiously. I won't - swear to its being an officer because I couldn't see - well enough for that. But I think it very likely - was. Anyhow, I had him most perfectly covered - when I fired, and they both disappeared the instant - I had fired, and never showed up again, so I am - certain I got the second one. He was visible - down to about his third tunic button, you see, and - with a resting rifle, I don't think I could miss at - that range. It wasn't more than 120, if that; - sights at zero, of course.</p> - - <p>It really was rather thrilling, you know, that - Stand-to. We had all our machine-guns ready, - and traversed Fritz's parapet very thoroughly. - Upon my word, in the fluster of that first daylight - minute or two, with the new wire under his nose, - I believe Fritz thought we were going to make a - dawn attack. I never saw so many Boches expose - themselves. As a rule, they are a good deal better - than we are in the matter of keeping out of sight; - they take far fewer chances. But they didn't - seem able to help looking this time, and our sniper - did pretty well. So did the machine-guns, I - think; I don't see how they could have helped it.</p> - - <p>Then Boche got his machine-guns to work, and - poured thousands of rounds all along our front—a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">[Pg 213]</a></span> - regular machine-gun bombardment, for which he - got precisely nothing at all, none of our people - being exposed. But can't you imagine the excitement - in the Boche line? The evening before they - had seen our line exactly as usual. In the night - they had apparently heard and suspected nothing. - And now, with the first morning light, they saw a - line of brand-new wire entanglement and a new - trench line, that must have looked most amazingly - close to them, and actually was in parts an advance - of 400 yards from the old line. And then - the length of it, you know—just on 800 yards. It - certainly must have startled 'em.</p> - - <p>We quite thought they'd start lambasting Old - Harry out of the new line at any moment; but - they didn't. I guess they had sense enough to - conclude that we had nobody out there. But - during the forenoon Master Boche registered on - the new line at several points; about twenty - rounds of whizzes and H. E., just to encourage us - with regard to our work for that night, I suppose. - And beyond that he didn't go—dignified silence, - you know. But I bet he was pretty mad to think - of all he'd missed during the night. In the afternoon - Fritz sent a couple of 'planes up, I dare say - with cameras, to get a record of the new line.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">[Pg 214]</a></span> - But our Archibalds in the rear made it so hot for - them I don't think they can have got any snap-shots.</p> - - <p>When "A" Company filed out at six o'clock - that night to take up protective duty along the - new wire, as before, while the new trench was - proceeded with, I think we might have been excused - for feeling a bit creepy. I can't say how the men - felt, but I confess I had made up my mind that my - own chances of getting back were tolerably thin. - One must move about a good bit to do one's job - properly, and keep touch with a hundred men - strung out over 300 yards of ground in pitch darkness. - As a matter of fact, it was barely dark - when we filed out. We daren't leave it a minute - later, in case a strong Boche patrol should have - worked inside our line, and been waiting for the - working party when it came out with bombs. We - simply had to be beforehand with 'em; and there - was no getting away from the fact that the Boche - had had all day in which to study this new line - of ours and make his plans. I say I don't know - how our men were feeling. I do know they were - cracking little jokes themselves about it before - we left the sap.</p> - - <p>"This way for motor ambulances!" "Change<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">[Pg 215]</a></span> - here for Blighty and the Rest Cure!" "Where'll - you have yours, matey?" I heard plenty of - remarks like that as I worked my way down - Stinking Sap to get to the head of my lot before - we moved out.</p> - - <p>"You'll be all right," said one of mine to a "C" - Company man as he entered the sap. "Mister - blooming Fritz can't get at you with 'A' Company - out in front, you take it from me. We'll - twist his tail properly if he does come." The - "C" men were for digging again, you know.</p> - - <p>It's impossible for an officer to feel shaky, however - slight his experience, when he has men like - ours to work with.</p> - - <p>It wasn't exactly a proper trench that "C" - Company went to work in that night. There were - bits that were almost finished; and then, again, - there were other lengths where it was only a chain - of holes, linked together by bits a yard or two - long, in which the surface had been shifted, just to - mark out the trace of the new line. But every - man was able to get into cover right away, even - in the worst bits, because of these holes, and then, - being in a hole, his job was to cut his way along into - the next hole just as quick as his strength would - allow him. The trench was cut narrow, you<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">[Pg 216]</a></span> - know; not a quarter the width of the old trenches - we have occupied. This doesn't make for comfort - in getting to and fro; but it does give far safer - cover from every kind of projectile, and especially - from the deadly shrap. and the slippy whizz.</p> - - <p>While "C" slogged away at making connection - right through, we lay out by the wire, as we had - done the night before, and I crept up and down our - line. There was no rain, and the night was so - quiet that we could hear every little move among - the diggers much more plainly than on the night - before. I wondered if the Boches could hear it. - They sent us little bursts of machine-gun fire - now and again, such as they send throughout - every night; and there was the normal amount of - rifle fire and the normal number of flares and - different kinds of lights going up from the enemy - lines. Our men all lay as still as mutton, and - when the lights rose near our way, or the M.G. - fire came, I naturally kept very still.</p> - - <p>Once I distinctly made out a figure moving very - slowly and cautiously outside the wire. I should - like to have fired, and, better still, to have been - able to get quickly and silently through the wire - and on to that moving figure, getting to grips, as - we did with that German sniper not long since,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">[Pg 217]</a></span> - without a sound. But there was no opening in - the wire near; and with regard to firing, my orders - were not to draw fire by expending a single round - unnecessarily, and to fire only in defence. What - I did was to get the O.C.'s permission shortly - afterwards to take three men and patrol beyond - the front of the wire. But we found nothing. No - doubt I had seen one member of a Boche observation - patrol on the prowl to find out what we - were doing; and if only I could have got him - it would have been excellent. From that time - on we kept a continuous patrol going in front - of the wire.</p> - - <p>Then came a salvo of four whizz-bangs, all - landing fairly near the new trench; three in rear of - it, and one most infernally close in front of us. I - suppose we all told ourselves the ball was just - about to begin. But nothing happened for over - an hour. Then came nine shells in quick succession, - one of which, on my left, robbed my half-Company - of four men, one killed and three - wounded. The rest accomplished nothing. Then - silence again, followed by occasional bursts of - M.G. and the usual sort of rifle fire. Corporal - Lane, of No. 2 Platoon, stopped a M.G. bullet - with his left shoulder, I regret to say, and one<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">[Pg 218]</a></span> - man in the trench—"C" Company—was killed - by a bullet through the head.</p> - - <p>With every little burst of fire, one braced oneself - for the big strafe that we naturally felt must - come. It seemed the Boche was playing with us - as a cat plays with a mouse. "I wonder what - devilry he's got up his sleeve?" We probably - all asked ourselves that question fifty times.</p> - - <p>At two o'clock there wasn't a break anywhere in - the new line. It was a connected trench throughout, - and nowhere less than six feet deep, with two - communicating trenches leading back to our - original front line. At three o'clock the word - came along that the working party had been - withdrawn, and that I was to take my men in. - As before, we left a few sentry groups, to be - relieved at dawn by fresh sentries, since the new - line was now to be guarded by day and manned - by night.</p> - - <p>And that was the end of it. I got my men - safely in. Half an hour later the Boche sent over - another ten or dozen shells on the new line, and - once again before dawn he did the same, with the - usual periodical bursts of M.G. fire and dropping - rifle fire during the rest of the time. And nothing - more. Wasn't it extraordinary, when he had had<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">[Pg 219]</a></span> - a whole day to think about it, and must have - known we should be at work there that night? - Possibly, however, in his crafty way, he assumed - we should not go near the new line that second - night for fear of strafing, and held his hand for - that reason. And, possibly, our General assumed - he'd think that, and acted accordingly. But - there it is. We got our work done at next to no - cost.</p> - - <p>I was going to tell you about the rumours as to - our push to straighten out the line, but my time's - up. That will have to wait for my next letter. - We are having an easy time now, but there were - no free minutes last week. You'll hear again - soon, from your</p> - - <p> - "<i>Temporary Gentleman.</i>"<br /> - </p> - - <hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">[Pg 220]</a></span></p> - <div class="chapter"> - - <h2 class="nobreak"><a name="THE_COMING_PUSH" id="THE_COMING_PUSH"></a>THE COMING PUSH</h2></div> - - <p>You are quite right in saying that I don't feel - much interest in political affairs at home these - days. The fact is, we do not often see the newspapers, - and when we see them there isn't much - time for really reading them or giving much consideration - to what they say. The war news is - interesting, of course; but all this endless talky-talky - business, why, I can hardly tell you how - queerly it strikes us out here. You see, we are - very close to concrete realities all the time, and to - us it seems the talky-talky people are most amazingly - remote from realities of any kind. They - seem to us to be very much interested in shadows, - notions, fads, fancies, and considerations of interests - which we think were washed out of existence at - the very beginning of the war. They even seem - able to strive mightily and quarrel virulently over - the discussion of the principles and abstractions - involved in things they propose to do when the - war is over!</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">[Pg 221]</a></span></p> - - <p>M-m-m-m-m-m! Seems to us the thing is to get - it over, and in the right way. No, we are not - much interested in the political situation. The - tangible actualities of the situation out here - seem to us very pressing; pressing enough to - demand all the energies and all the attention; - every atom of the strength of all the people of - the British race; without any wastage over more - remote things, abstractions, things <i>ante</i> and <i>post - bellum</i>. Here in France I can assure you men, - women, and children are all alike in that they have - no life outside the war. Every thought, every act, - everything is in and for the war. The realities - are very close here.</p> - - <p>One thing in that last letter of yours especially - pleases me. "We have now got to the point in - England at which all the people of both sexes - who are worth their salt are busy at war work of - one kind or another."</p> - - <p>That's excellent. Well, now rope in the ones - who are not "worth their salt." You'll find they're - all right, once they're roped in. I don't believe - in this idea of some people not being worth their - salt; not in England, anyhow. The stock is too - good. You know the type of hoodlum who, with - licks of hair plastered over his forehead, seems to<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">[Pg 222]</a></span> - spend his days leaning against a lamp-post. The - fellow I mean has a perfectly beastly habit of spitting - over everything in sight; when riding on top of - a 'bus, for instance. Despised by decent men, he's - a real terror to decent women. Same type, I - suppose, as the Apache of Paris. Every big - city breeds 'em.</p> - - <p>Well, all I want to tell you about this gentleman - is, never to run away with the notion that he can't - be worth his salt. All he needs is to be taught - the meaning of authority. It's only a matter of - months; even weeks. With my own eyes I have - watched the process at work. Nobody will ever - again be able to delude me about it. In a country - like ours there are no people "not worth their - salt." The worst type of man we've got only - needs a few months in a Battalion like ours, during - the training period, to learn the meaning of - authority, and, by means of discipline, to have his - latent manhood developed. It's there all right. - Only he'll never develop it of his own accord. - Authority must be brought to bear. The Army - method is the quickest and best. In a few months - it makes these fellows men, and thundering good - men at that. Worth their salt! They're worth - their weight in—well, to take something real and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">[Pg 223]</a></span> - good, say in 'baccy and cartridges—real men and - real fighters.</p> - - <p>Out here in billets, we get a deal more information - about things generally than ever reaches us - in the line. All the rumours come our way, and - among 'em, here and there, I dare say, hints of - the truth. We know that out there in the new - trench we cut no dug-outs are being made. There's - no evidence of any intention to inhabit that new - front line. It is just fully manned by night and - held by a few sentry groups in the day. (It's a - deuce of a job getting along it by night when it's - full of men. Being kept so narrow, for safety's - sake, there are not many places where you can - pass men, so you have to get along somehow over - their heads or between their legs. Oh, it's great - going on a wet night!) And this, in our eyes, is - proof positive of the truth of the rumour which - says we are to use it almost immediately as a - jumping-off place, in a push designed to strengthen - and straighten our front line by cutting off that - diabolical corner of the Boche line opposite The - Gut; to wash out The Gut, in fact, altogether, - putting it behind our front line, with all its blood-soaked - craters.</p> - - <p>I don't think I ought to write much about it,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">[Pg 224]</a></span> - though I suppose the Censor won't mind so long as - I mention no places or names to indicate the part - of the front we're on. But, in effect, if we can - take several hundred yards of Boche trenches - here, the gain to us, apart altogether from strategic - considerations, will be equivalent to at least a - mile. It's much more than just that, really, - because it means getting a very advantageous - and commanding position in exchange for a very - exposed and deadly one, depriving Boche of a - great advantage and gaining a great advantage - for ourselves. Even the lesser of the two possible - schemes, concerning less than 200 yards of Boche - front, would give us all that. But the general - opinion seems to be that we are to tackle the - larger scheme, involving the seizure of a good - mile or more of Boche front. We all think - we know, and we none of us know anything, - really.</p> - - <p>But I must clear out. We have a new issue of - improved gas-helmets, and I've got to see to - dishing 'em out. Then every man will have two - anti-gas helmets and one pair of anti-lachrymatory - gas goggles. We are also renewing our emergency, - or "iron," ration—and that all looks like a push, - and is therefore exhilarating.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">[Pg 225]</a></span></p> - - <hr class="tb" /> - - <p> - <i>Later.</i><br /> - </p> - - <p>Great and glorious news! The push is a fact. I - mustn't say which day, and, just in case this letter - fell into wrong hands, I think I'll hold it back, and - not post just yet. The main thing is we are to - push; and we are jolly well going to wipe out that - Boche corner. It is the lesser of the two schemes—a - local affair pure and simple, so I suppose you'll - learn next to nothing about it from dispatches. - You know our British way in the matter of official - dispatches. The British have no shop window - at all. One ought to be glad of it, I suppose. - Ours is the safer, better, more dignified way, no - doubt, and certainly never raises hopes doomed - to possible disappointment. At the back of my - mind I approve it all right. (Which should be - comforting to the G.O.C. in C.) But, as touching - ourselves, one cannot help wishing the dispatches - would give you news of our show. Of course - they won't.</p> - - <p>"The night was quiet on the remainder of the - Front." "Some elements of trenches changed - hands in the neighbourhood of ——, the advantage - being with us." That's the sort of thing. At - least, I hope it'll read that way. It will, if "A" - Company can make it so.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">[Pg 226]</a></span></p> - - <p>I'm particularly glad we had that turn in Petticoat - Lane, you know. Now that I think we shall - never occupy it again as a front line—by the time - you get this, please the pigs, it'll be well behind our - front line, and we'll be snugly over the rise where - the Boche now shelters—I don't mind admitting - to you that it's a heart-breaking bit of line. There's - no solid foothold anywhere in it, and there's - next to no real cover. It's a vile bit of trench, - which we never should have occupied if we'd had - any choice in those early days when the Boche - first dug himself in opposite, and the French, - having no alternative, scratched in here. For - our sins we know every inch of it now, and, thanks - to good glasses and long hours of study, I think I - know the opposite lines pretty well—the lines I - hope we shall be in.</p> - - <p>Our fellows are queer, you know. Perhaps I've - told you. Any kind of suffering and hardship they - have to endure they invariably chalk up to the - account against Mr. Boche. There's a big black - mark against him for our spell in Petticoat Lane, - and, by Jupiter! he'll find he'll have to pay for - every mortal thing our chaps suffered there; every - spoiled or missed meal; even lost boots, sore feet, - and all such details. Our chaps make jokes about<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">[Pg 227]</a></span> - these things, and, if they're bad enough, make - believe they almost enjoy them while they last. - But every bit of it goes down in the account against - Fritz; and if "A" Company gets the chance to be - after him, by Gad! he'll have to skip! He really - will.</p> - - <p>I'm not going to risk giving away military information - by telling you any more now. It will all - be over, and Cut-Throat Alley will be behind us - when next I write. And, understand, you are - not to worry in the least bit about me, because I - promise you I'll get through. I should know if I - were not going to; at least, I think I should. But - I feel perfectly certain we shall bring this thing off - all right anyhow; and so, even if I did chance to - go down, you wouldn't grieve about that, would - you? because you'd know that's the way any fellow - would like to go down, with his Company bringing - it off; and, mind you, a thing that's going to make - a world of difference to all the hundreds of good - chaps who will hold this sector of the front before - the war's over.</p> - - <p>We've got a mighty lot to wipe out in this little - push. It isn't only such scraps of discomfort as - we suffered, nor yet the few men we lost there. - But, French and British, month in and month out,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">[Pg 228]</a></span> - for many a long day and night, we've been using - up good men and true in that bloody, shell-torn - corner. Why, there's not a yard of its churned-up - soil that French and English men haven't - suffered on. We've all that to wipe out; all that, - and a deal more that I can't tell you about. I'll - only tell you that I mean to get through it all right. - Every man in the Battalion means real business—just - as much as any of the chaps who fought under - Nelson and Wellington, believe me. So, whatever - you do, be under no sort of anxiety about your</p> - - <p class="right"> - "<i>Temporary Gentleman.</i>"<br /> - </p> - - <p>P.S.—Seeing that you and I, and all our lot, - never have known anything about military matters - before this war came, I think it may interest you, as - it interests me, to know that I have never seen the - Company as a whole jollier, or in higher spirits - than it is with this job before it; and, do you - know, I never felt happier myself, never. I feel - this makes it worth while to be alive and fit; - more worth while than it ever was in civil life - before the war.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">[Pg 229]</a></span></p> - <div class="chapter"> - - <h2 class="nobreak"><a name="FRONT_LINE_TO_HOSPITAL" id="FRONT_LINE_TO_HOSPITAL"></a>FRONT LINE TO HOSPITAL</h2></div> - - <p>Perhaps this address will be quite a shock to you - if you know what it means. So I hasten to say - that I am perfectly all right, really. "Clearing - Station"—perhaps that won't have the ominous - look to you that "Hospital" would, though it - means the same thing. But the point is, I am all - right. I told you I'd get through, and I have. - The fact that I'm lying in bed here—in luxurious - comfort—is only an incident. I am quite safe - and perfectly all right.</p> - - <p>They tell me here that directly an officer is - wounded information to that effect is sent home to - his people. Well, I hope you will get this word - from me first, and accept my assurance that there's - nothing to worry about. These good folk here - will put me as right as ninepence in no time, and I - hope very shortly to be back with the Company - and in the new line.</p> - - <p>It was shrapnel, you know, and got me in the - left leg and a bit in the right arm just when I was<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">[Pg 230]</a></span> - most wanting the use of both of 'em. I hope they - haven't told you I'm going to lose my leg or - anything, because I'm not. The surgeon here—a - first-rate chap and a splendid surgeon—has told - me all about it, and my leg will very soon be as - good as ever.</p> - - <p>This is just a line to let you know I am perfectly - all right. I'll write and tell you all about it to-morrow.</p> - - <p>I wonder whether the dispatches will have told - you anything. The push was splendid. We've - got that corner, and The Gut is well behind our - front line now.</p> - - <hr class="tb" /> - - <p>My letter of yesterday will have assured you - that I am all right; nothing at all to worry about. - I meant to have written you fully to-day about the - push. But we've been busy. The surgeon's been - cleaning me up—getting rid of useless souvenirs, - you know; and it seems I'm better keeping pretty - still and quiet to-day. Shall be out and about all - the quicker, you see. This is a perfectly heavenly - place, where you don't hear a vestige of gun-fire, - and everything is sweet and clean, quiet and easy; - no responsibility, no anything but comfort and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">[Pg 231]</a></span> - ease. What a luxurious loaf I'm having! I'll - write to-morrow.</p> - - <hr class="tb" /> - - <p>I'm going ahead like a house afire; but so confoundedly - lazy, you'd hardly believe it. I suppose - this pencil will be legible, though it hardly looks - it to me. As I say, I'm too lazy for words; simply - wallowing in comfort and cleanliness. Thought I - would just pencil a line now, so that you would - know I was perfectly all right and then I can write - properly to-morrow.</p> - - <hr class="tb" /> - - <p>Another lazy day. I really ought to be at work, - you know, so well and fit I am. But I just laze - in this delightful bed, and watch the busy orderlies - and sisters flitting to and fro, as though I were in - a dream and other folk had to do all the world's - work. The good old "Peacemaker" has come in - to see me, and is writing this for me; chiefly because - of my laziness, and partly that I like to spare you - the work of deciphering the hieroglyphics I make - with my left hand. The right arm is pretty good, - you know, but it seems I'll get it entirely sound - again rather quicker by not using it just now; and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">[Pg 232]</a></span> - it's rather jolly to have one's O.C. Company - working for one in this way.</p> - - <p>He says that while I was about it I was a duffer - not to get a real Blighty, and so have a holiday - and come and see you all. As a fact, I've no - doubt he's profoundly grateful that he will not - be robbed of my invaluable services for long. - "A" Company was relieved last night by a - Company of the ——; in our new trenches, you - know; the trenches that used to belong to Mister - Boche; so our fellows are having a bit of a rest, - I'm glad to say. Not the luxurious rest I'm - having, of course; but something to be going on - with.</p> - - <p>I meant to tell you a whole lot of things, but - for the laziness that makes me so greedy for naps - and dozes. Also, they say visitors have to leave - now, and "the Peacemaker" has a good way to - ride. I'll write properly to-morrow. Meantime - "the Peacemaker" is good enough to say he - will write you to-night particulars as to how - I got my scratches; so I won't ask him to - write any more now. He will carry this on - himself when he gets back to-night—while I - laze and sleep.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">[Pg 233]</a></span></p> - - <hr class="tb" /> - - <p>As promised, I am adding a few lines to this - for our good friend. I have not yet told him, but - as a fact I am the only unwounded officer in "A" - Company at the moment, and we were relieved - last night in order that we might reorganise. - Lieutenant Morgan—"Taffy"—was killed, I - grieve to say, in the beginning of the advance, and - our casualties for the Company were thirty-two - killed and seventy-eight wounded. It's a terrible - price, of course, but you will understand that a big - loss was inevitable in our Company, when I tell - you that we not only led the advance, but led it - from the notorious Petticoat Lane, where the front - is extraordinarily difficult to cross. We were - very proud to be chosen for the lead, and compared - with the net gain for the line, our loss is - small, really. Indeed, if the entire casualties in - the whole advance are weighed up against the - position won, I believe I am right in saying that - the cost was remarkably low. The gain in the line - is immense, and there is not the smallest chance of - the Boches taking it back again. Although our - bombardment knocked his trenches about pretty - badly—they were very strong trenches indeed, - to begin with, very strongly placed and favourably - situated—since our occupation we have worked<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">[Pg 234]</a></span> - day and night to make of the corner practically - a fortified position, and one from which we can - punish the Boche pretty severely on both flanks. - I think this gain will lead to other gains before - long in this sector. Our information is that the - Boche casualties were very heavy. However, I - did not mean to run on like this with regard to - the military aspect. It is our friend you will want - to hear about.</p> - - <p>Now, in the first place, I should like to be - allowed to say what you perhaps have guessed: - that he is a very fine and a very valuable officer. - I am not a bad judge, not only because I command - his Company, but because, unlike himself, I am - not quite without military knowledge of the kind - that came before the war, having a good many - years behind me of service as a Volunteer, and - then as a Territorial, down to within seven months - of the beginning of the war when I joined this - Service Battalion. And I have no hesitation in - saying that our friend is a fine and valuable officer. - I know that a big share of any credit due for the - fine training and discipline of our Company—which - is, I think, admitted to be the crack Company - of the best Battalion in the Brigade—is due, - not to me, but to the Commander of our No. 1<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">[Pg 235]</a></span> - Platoon. It is a very great loss to me to have him - laid aside now; but I am so thankful his life is - spared that I have no regret to waste over his - being wounded. But I do very sincerely hope - that he will be able to return to us, to the reorganised - "A" Company, for I have never met an - officer I would sooner have beside me. The men - of the Platoon, and, indeed, of the whole Company, - are devoted to him; and I regard it as little short - of marvellous that in so comparatively short a time - a man who had never had even the slightest hint - of military training should have been able to - become, all round, so efficient, so well posted - technically, and, above all, so confident and absolutely - so successful a leader of men. For that - has been his greatest asset: that his men will go - anywhere with him, do anything for him, trust - him without the slightest reserve or doubt.</p> - - <p>You know more about his character than I do, - but I venture to say that the character you know - has been wonderfully developed by the war and - by his military training. He may have been the - most lovable of men before, but I cannot believe - that he was anything like so strong a man or so - able a man. Confidence, fearlessness, decisiveness—strength, - in fact; these qualities, I am sure,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">[Pg 236]</a></span> - have developed greatly in him since he joined. I - sometimes think there is nothing more wonderful - in all this wonderful period of the war than the - amazing development it has brought in the - thousands of young Englishmen who now are - capable and efficient officers, loved and trusted - by their men, and as able in every way as any - officers the British Army ever had, although - the great majority of them have no military tradition - behind them, and before August, 1914, had - no military training. That is wonderful, and I am - convinced that no other race or nation in the wide - world could have produced the same thing. The - men, fine as they are, might have been produced - elsewhere, or something like them. But this - apparently inexhaustible supply of fine and efficient - officers—no, I think not.</p> - - <p>The newspapers will have told you something - of our little push, and I will not trouble you with - any technical detail. We advanced over a very - narrow front after a short but intense bombardment. - Our friend led the right half of "A" - because I did not want to rob his own Platoon of - his immediate influence. His is No. 1. The pace - was hot, despite the torn and treacherous nature - of the ground. The right half did even better than<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">[Pg 237]</a></span> - my half, and stormed the first Boche line with extraordinary - dash and vigour. It seemed as though - nothing could stop their impetuosity; and in the - midst of the tremendous din I caught little waves - of their shouting more than once.</p> - - <p>Our friend had crossed the first line, and successfully - led his men to the very edge of the second - line, shouting to his men to join him in taking it, - when the shell burst that brought him down. The - same shell must have laid some Boches low, if that - is any consolation. Not that we need any consolation. - I feel sure you will agree with me in - that.</p> - - <p>But I want to tell you that the wounds in the - right arm—not serious, I am thankful to say—were - not from the same shell. They came in the - neighbourhood of the first Boche line. That same - right arm (after it was wounded), carrying a - loaded stick, knocked up a Boche bayonet that - was due to reach the chest of a man in No. 1 - Platoon and then served to support the same - man on the parapet of the Boche trench—he was - already wounded—for a few moments till a - stretcher-bearer got him. It was not possible - for our friend to stay with him, of course. A few - seconds later he was leading his men full pelt<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">[Pg 238]</a></span> - towards the second line; and all that after his first - wound. I thought you would like to know that. - Our C.O. knows it, and I venture to hope it will - find mention in dispatches.</p> - - <p>And now with regard to his condition. Whilst - he is not quite so forward as he thinks—there is, - of course, no question of his coming back to duty - in a few days, as he fancies—there is, I think, no - cause whatever for anxiety. In fact, the M.O. at - the Clearing Station assured me of so much. His - general health is excellent; nothing septic has intervened; - it is simply a question of a little time. The - worst that is likely to happen is that the left leg - may be permanently a shade shorter than the - right, and it is hoped this may be averted. His - Company—all that is left of us—will be very - sincerely glad to see him back again. Meantime - we rejoice, as I am sure you will, in the manner, - the distinction, of his fall, in the certainty of his - enjoying the rest he has earned so well, and in the - prospect of his recovery.</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">[Pg 239]</a></span></p> - <div class="chapter"> - - <h2 class="nobreak"><a name="THE_PUSH_AND_AFTER" id="THE_PUSH_AND_AFTER"></a>THE PUSH AND AFTER</h2></div> - - <p>The Battalion being now out of the line, the O.C. - Company has kindly sent my batman along to - me here—you remember my batman, Lawson, on - Salisbury Plain—and he is writing this for me, so - that I can preserve my present perfect laziness. I - point this out by way of accounting for the superior - neatness of the handwriting, after my illegible - scrawls. Lawson was a clerk at ——'s works - before the war, and, as you perceive, has a top-hole - "hand of write."</p> - - <p>I got rather a fright, as I lay dreaming here, - half awake and half asleep, at six o'clock this morning. - An orderly came along with a blue ticket and - a big safety-pin, like those the Highlanders use in - their petticoats, and pinned his label on the bottom - of my counterpane.</p> - - <p>"Hallo!" says I; "what's this? Are they - putting me up for sale?"</p> - - <p>Mentally, I began to describe myself for the - catalogue. (How strong are the habits of civil<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">[Pg 240]</a></span> - life!) "One full-size, extra heavy Temporary - Officer and Gentleman; right arm and left leg - slightly chipped, the whole a little shop-worn, but - otherwise as new. Will be sold absolutely without - reserve to make room for new stock." (They - have to keep as many beds as possible vacant in - Clearing Stations, you know.)</p> - - <p>The orderly just grinned and faded away like - the Cheshire cat. A Sister came along shortly - afterwards, and I asked her the meaning of my - blue label.</p> - - <p>"Oh! that," she said, very casually, "that's the - evacuation card."</p> - - <p>I am to be evacuated, like a pulverised trench, a - redoubt that has become useless or untenable. - Jolly, isn't it? Seriously, I was a good deal worried - about this, until I had seen the M.O., because - I had an idea that once one was evacuated out of - the Divisional area, one was automatically struck - off the strength of one's unit, in which case, goodness - knows when, if ever, I should see my own - "A" Company again. But the M.O. tells me it's - all right, so long as one remains in France. One - is only struck off on leaving France, and when - that happens one can never be sure which Battalion - of the Regiment one will return to. So there's<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">[Pg 241]</a></span> - nothing to worry about. It's only that these - Clearing Stations have to keep plenty of vacant - accommodation ready for cases fresh out of the - line; and so fellows like me, who are supposed to - require a bit more patching up than can be given - in two or three days, have to be evacuated to one - or other of the base hospitals. Hence the label, - which makes of your Temporary Gentleman an - "evacuation case."</p> - - <p>It's uncertain when I shall be moved, or to which - base, so I cannot give you a new address for letters. - The generosity, the kindness, the skill, and the - unwearying attentiveness and consideration shown - one in this place could not possibly be improved on; - but their official reticence in the matter of giving - one any information regarding one's insignificant - self, future movements, and so on, can only be - described as godlike. I shall always associate it - in my mind with a smile of ineffable benevolence - (also rather godlike), as who should say, with - inexhaustible patience, "There, there, my little - man; there, there." And that's all. Perhaps - it's good for us, taken, as medicine must be, with - childlike trust and faith. We must hope so.</p> - - <p>Come to think of it, there is a hint in the gentle - air of this place—never torn by shot or shell, or<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">[Pg 242]</a></span> - penetrated by even the faintest odour of defunct - Boches in No Man's Land—of a general conspiracy - of reticence. It has infected mine own hitherto - trusted batman (who presumes to chuckle as he - writes these lines at my dictation), whose professed - ignorance, regarding most points upon which I - have this morning sought information, suggests - that I have in the past consistently overrated - his intelligence and general competence. It is - clearly very desirable that I should get back to - my Platoon as soon as possible.</p> - - <p>Lying here at mine ease, I think a great deal; - but of the quality of my thinking I fear there is - little to be said that is favourable. Perhaps the - medicine I take so trustfully has contained some - of the soporific stuff of dreams, and that is why - the pain in my leg has been so trifling since the - first day here. I feel my thoughts stirring in my - mind; but they move in a swaying, dreamy fashion, - as though they were floating in, say golden syrup, - and were not really interested in getting out of it. - I wanted to tell you all about our push, but, do - you know, though it was not very many days ago, - it seems already extraordinarily remote, so far as - the details are concerned, and I am hazy as to - what I have told you and what I have not told.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">[Pg 243]</a></span></p> - - <p>One thing stands out so clearly in my otherwise - treacly mind that I feel I never, never shall forget - it; and that is the sensation of the moment when - the order reached us to advance. We had been - a long time waiting for it, even before our bombardment - began, and when it came— But, - although the sensation is very clear to me, I'm - not at all sure I can convey any idea of it to you. - I've just asked Lawson what he felt like when it - came; but the conspiracy of reticence, or something, - leads him to say he doesn't know. I found - myself muttering something at the moment, and - he says he did, too. That's something of a coincidence. - He believes the actual words he muttered - were: "What ho!" But that's not exactly - illuminating, is it?</p> - - <p>I believe my thought, as we scrambled over the - parapet was that now, at last, we were going to - wipe Petticoat Lane off the map as a front line. - Good-bye to this hole! That was the idea, I - think. We did so hate that bit of line, with its - quicksand craters in front, and the sodden lowness - that made it a sort of pocket for the receipt of - every kind of explosive the Boche liked to lob in - on us.</p> - - <p>The struggle through the craters, before we got<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">[Pg 244]</a></span> - to the first Boche line, was pretty beastly, and, I - am afraid, cost us rather dear, although we got to - the near lip of the craters before the punishment - began, thanks to a quick start and the fine accuracy - of our gunners in their curtain fire. You know the - sort of thing that happens in nightmares, when - each of your feet weighs a ton and a half, at the - moment when speed is the only thing to save you - from the most hideous kind of spiflication. Getting - through the craters was like that.</p> - - <p>Our good time began when the craters were - passed, and there was nothing but Boche trenches - in front of us. Then it was we began to feel - the jolly feelings you've read about; the glorious - exhilaration of the charge. And, really, it - wouldn't be possible to exaggerate about that. - You can take it from me that the most highly - coloured chromo-lithographs can't overdo that, in - the essential spirit of the thing. Their detail is - pretty groggy, of course—no waving plumes, gay - colours, flashing swords, and polished top-boots, - you know. My goodness, no! We were all the - colour of the foul clay we'd come from—all over. - But the spirit of it! It's perfectly hopeless - for me to try to tell you, especially in a letter. - They say they pump spirits and drugs into the<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">[Pg 245]</a></span> - Boches before they leave their trenches. No drug - and no champagne, even of the choicest, could have - given us any more exhilaration, I fancy, than one - felt in that dash from the craters to the first Boche - line. Heavens! but it was the real thing; real, real, - real; that's what it was, more than anything else. - Made you feel you'd never been really and fully - alive till then. Seven-leagued boots, and all that - kind of thing, you know. The earth seemed to - fly under your feet. I can see the dirty, earth-smeared - faces in that Boche trench now. (They - were scuffling and scrambling out from the dug-outs, - where they'd sheltered from our bombardment, - to their fire-steps.) They seemed of no - more importance than so many Aunt Sallies or - Dutch dolls. Things like that to stop <i>us</i>! Absurd!</p> - - <p>And how one whooped! I was fairly screaming - "'A' Company!" at the very top of my voice as - we jumped into that trench. The man on my - left was Corporal Slade (Lance-Sergeant, I should - say) and, as we reached their parapet I could hear - him yelling beside my ear, through all the roar of - the guns: "Hell! Give 'em hell! Give 'em - hell, boys!" Most outrageous!</p> - - <p>In the trench it was a sort of a football scrum - glorified; oh! very much glorified. Most curiously,<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">[Pg 246]</a></span> - the thing passing through my mind then was "the - Peacemaker's" old gag, apropos of the use of his - trench dagger, you know: "When you hear that - cough, you can pass on to the next Boche. Get - him in the right place, and three inches of the steel - will do. Don't waste time over any more." Queer - wasn't it?</p> - - <p>Galloping across the next stretch—by the way, it - was the very devil getting out over the Boche - parados, so high and shaly. A fellow grabbed - my right ankle when I was half-way up; the very - thing I'd always dreaded in dreams of the trenches, - and, by Gad! if I didn't kick out you must let - me know about it. I'd sooner have had a bayonet - thrust any day than the ram of my field boot that - chap got in his face. The next stretch, to the - Boche second line, yes! The champagney feeling - was stronger than ever then, because one felt that - front line was smashed. Sort of crossing the - Rhine, you know. One was on German soil, - so to say. My hat, what scores to pay!</p> - - <p>And mixed up with the splendid feeling of the - charge itself—by long odds the finest feel I ever - had in my life—there was a queer, worrying little - thought, too. I knew some of our men were - dropping, and— "Damn it, I ought to be<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">[Pg 247]</a></span> - doing something to save those chaps." That - was the thought. It kind of stung; sort of feeling - I ought to have some knowledge I had failed to - acquire. They're your men, you ought to know. - That sort of feeling. But I don't think it slowed - one's stride at all. The champagne feeling was - the main thing. I was absolutely certain we were - bringing it off all right. The Boche guns were - real enough; but their men didn't seem to me - to count.</p> - - <p>Queer thing about the wire in front of that second - line. It wasn't anything like so good or extensive - as front-line wire, and I dare say our guns had - knocked a good deal of the stuffing out of it. - Still, there was a lot left, more than I expected - for a second line. Do you know, "A" Company - went through it as though it had been paper. - It was a glorious thing that. You know how - gingerly one approaches barbed wire or anything - like that; a thorn hedge, if you like. And you've - seen how fellows going into the sea to bathe, at - low tide, will gallop through the rows of little - wavelets where the water's shallow; feet going - high and arms waving, the men themselves - whooping for the fun of the thing. That's exactly - how our chaps went through that wire. I'll<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">[Pg 248]</a></span> - guarantee nobody felt a scratch from it. And yet - my breeches and tunic were in ribbons from the - waist down when I got to the field ambulance, and - from the waist to the knee I'll carry the pattern of - that wire for some time to come. Might have - been swan's-down for all we knew about it.</p> - - <p>And then, unfortunately, on the parapet of the - second line I got my little dose, and was laid out. - Goodness knows, that shell certainly laid out some - Boches as well as me. I'll say this for 'em, they - met us on the parapet all right. But "A" Company's - business was urgent. We had scores to - settle from Petticoat Lane and other choice spots; - and the Kaiser's got no one who could stop us. - I do wish I could have seen it through. I know - they tried hard to counter us out of that line. - But they couldn't shift old "A," who did just as - well when I dropped out as before—the beggars! - Lawson tells me I was yelling like a madman on - that parapet for some time before I went to sleep, - you know: "I'll be there in a minute!"—there - in a minute! How absurd!</p> - - <p>Next thing I knew I was being lifted out of a - trench stretcher, right away back at Battalion - Headquarters in the old support line. Then the - good old Batt'n M.O. prodded around me for a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">[Pg 249]</a></span> - bit, and gave me a cigarette, I remember. I - remember hearing him say: "Oh! well, <i>you're</i> all - right." And then I must have had another doze.</p> - - <p>Next thing I remember I was lying in a right-hand - lower stretcher in a motor ambulance, and - soon after that I was in bed in the Field Ambulance - at ——. The same night I came on here, the Field - Ambulance being pretty busy and full up. It's - only a few miles off. I know there was snow all - round when I was being lifted out of the motor - ambulance into the hall here.</p> - - <p>And then comfort, and cleanliness and quiet; - most wonderful peace, and English nursing sisters. - My goodness, aren't English nursing sisters lovely? - English women, all of 'em, for that matter. And - they say there are still some men at home who - don't want to join! Seems queer to me.</p> - - <p>Well, Lawson is rapidly developing writer's - cramp, and I don't wonder at it.</p> - - <p>And so I'm to move on somewhere else soon - from here. In any case, you understand, don't - you, that I'm all right, wanting for nothing, - and most kindly looked after. I'll write again - very soon, and whatever you do, don't have the - smallest feeling of anxiety about your</p> - - <p class="right"> - "<i>Temporary Gentleman.</i>"<br /> - </p> - - <hr class="chap" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">[Pg 250]</a></span></p> - <div class="chapter"> - - <h2 class="nobreak"><a name="BLIGHTY" id="BLIGHTY"></a>BLIGHTY</h2></div> - - <p>This is to be evacuation day. A dozen officers - and nearly a hundred other ranks are to leave this - place to-day for one or other of the bases. The - life of a permanent official in one of these Clearing - Stations must be curious, handling as he does a - never-ending stream of the flotsam and jetsam - of the great war. The war knocks chips off us, - and as we are broken we stream in through the - hospitable portals of this beautifully organised - and managed place; are put in plaster of Paris, - so to say, and off we go again to another place to - be further doctored; the more newly chipped - arriving by one gate, as we go trickling out by - another. And this process is continuous. Along - the British front alone a score or more of men are - bowled over every hour. In a place like this the - process is brought home to one.</p> - - <p>So, too, is the ordered precision and efficacy of - the system of dealing with the wreckage. It is - wonderfully methodical and well thought out.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">[Pg 251]</a></span> - And over all, as I told you before, broods the - spirit of benevolent reticence, which makes one - feel a little like a registered parcel entrusted to - a particularly efficient postal service. "When are - we going?" Benevolent smile. "Presently; presently." - "What base are we going to?" Benevolent - smile. "You'll see by and by." "About - how long shall we be on the journey?" Benevolent - smile. "Oh! you'll be made quite comfortable - on the journey. Don't worry about that." - "Well, I'm very much better this morning, - don't you think?" Benevolent smile. "Do you - think I shall be able to sit up in a day or two?" - Benevolent smile. "We shall see."</p> - - <p>So it is always. I dare say the thirst of patients - for information often becomes very trying to the - authorities. But they never in any circumstances - show any impatience. They never omit the - benevolent smile. And they never, never, for one - instant, relax the policy of benevolent reticence; - never. The man next to me is very keen about - his temperature; it is, I believe, the chief symptom - of his particular trouble. But the bland familiar - smile is all the reply he can ever get to his most - crafty efforts to ascertain if it is higher or lower. I - haven't the slightest doubt it is all part of a<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">[Pg 252]</a></span> - carefully devised policy making for our benefit; - but I wouldn't mind betting the man in the next - bed sends his temperature up by means of his - quite fruitless efforts to ascertain that it has gone - down.</p> - - <hr class="tb" /> - - <p> - <i>Later.</i><br /> - </p> - - <p>Here's another strange handwriting for you. - The present writer is Lieut. R——, whose left - arm has had a lot more shrap. through it than - my right got, and who has kindly lent me the - services of his right. My left-handed writing is - still, as you will have noted, a bit too suggestive - of a cryptogram in Chinese. We are lying opposite - one another in very comfortable bunks in the - Red Cross train, making from —— to a base, we - don't yet know which. There are nearly 500 - "evacuation cases" on board this train. Its progress - is leisurely, but I believe we are to reach our - destination round about breakfast time to-morrow. - We found books and magazines in the train when - we came on board. That's a kindly thought, - isn't it? They bear the stamp of the Camps - Library. The doctors and nurses get round - among us on the train just as freely as in hospital. - The whole thing is a triumph of good management.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">[Pg 253]</a></span></p> - - <p>While we were lying in our stretchers waiting for - the train, having arrived at the station in motor - ambulances from the Clearing Station, we saw miles - of trains pass laden with every conceivable sort of - thing for the French firing line; from troops to - tin-tacks; a sort of departmental store on wheels; - an unending cinematograph film, which took over - an hour to roll past us, and showed no sign of - ending then. All the French troops, with their - cigarettes and their chocolate, had kindly, jovial - greetings for the stretchered rows of our chaps as - we lay in our blankets on the platform waiting for - our train, especially the jolly, rollicking Zouaves. - Good luck, and a pleasant rest; quick recovery, and—as - I understand it—return to the making of glory, - they wished us, and all with an obviously comradely - sincerity and play of facial expression, - hands and shoulders, which made nothing of - difference of language. And our chaps, much - more clumsily, but with equal goodwill, did their - level best to respond. I think the spirit of their - replies was understood. Yes, I feel sure of that. - The war's a devastating business, no doubt; but - it has introduced a spirit of comradeship between - French and English such as peace could never - give.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">[Pg 254]</a></span></p> - - <hr class="tb" /> - - <p> - <i>Next morning.</i><br /> - </p> - - <p>You will forgive the left-handedness of the - writing, won't you? My friend opposite has had - a good deal of pain during the night, and I cannot - ask him to write for me now. It was a strange - night, and I don't think I'll ever forget it, though - there's really nothing to tell; "Nothing to write - home about," as the men say. I didn't sleep - much, but I had quite a comfortable night, all the - same, and plenty to think about. When the - train lay still between stations, as it sometimes - did, I could hear snatches of talk from different - parts of the train itself—doctors, nurses, orderlies, - patients, railway officials, and so on. Then - perhaps another train would rumble along and - halt near us, and there would be talk between - people of the two trains: French, English, and the - queer jumble of a patois that the coming together - of the twain in war has evolved. Also, there was - the English which remains English, its speaker not - having a word of any other tongue, but which - yet, on the face of it, somehow, tells one it is - addressed to someone who must understand it - from its tone or not at all.</p> - - <p>"Oh, that's it, is it? Cigarettes? You bet. - Here, catch, old chap! Bong, très bong Woodbine.<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">[Pg 255]</a></span> - What ho! Same to you, old chap, an' many of - 'em. Yes, yes; we'll soon be back again, an' then - we'll give the blighters what for, eh? Chocolate, - eh? Oh, mercy, mercy! No, no; no more; we - got plenty grub; much pang, savvy. You're a - brick, you are. You bong, très bong; compree? - Hallo! Off again! Well, so long, old sport! - Good luck! Bong charnce! See ye 'gain some - time! Bong sworr!"</p> - - <p>There's a poor chap in the bunk under mine - who's been delirious most of the night. He looks - such a child. A second lieutenant of the ——s; - badly shaken up in a mine explosion, and bombed - afterwards. The M.O. says he'll get through all - right. He's for Blighty, no doubt. Odd, isn't - it? This time to-morrow he may be in England, - or mighty near it. England—what an extraordinary - long way off it seems to me. There have - been some happenings in my life since I was in - England; and as for the chap I was before the war, - upon my word, I can hardly remember the fellow. - Pretty sloppy, wasn't he? Seems to me I must - have been a good deal of a slacker; hadn't had - much to do with real things then.</p> - - <p>We know at last where we're bound for; in fact, - we're there. The train has been backing and<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">[Pg 256]</a></span> - filling through the streets of the outskirts of - Havre for the last half-hour or more. But last - evening, when I was writing, we could only ascertain - that we were going to ——. Benevolent - smiles, you know.</p> - - <p>It's frightfully interesting to see the streets. - I see them through the little narrow flap at the - top of my window that's meant to open. It - seems quite odd to see women walking to and - fro; and row after row of roofs and windows, all - unbroken. No signs of shell-shock here. But - on the other side of the train, nearest the harbour, - one sees acres and acres of war material; I mean - really acres and acres of rations, barbed wire, - stores of all kinds.</p> - - <p>There's a sort of bustle going on in the train. I - think we must be near the end, so I'll put my notebook - away.</p> - - <hr class="tb" /> - - <p> - 10.45 <span class="smcap">A.M.</span><br /> - </p> - - <p>We are in what they call the Officers' Huts, on - some quay or another. It's a miniature hospital - or clearing station, built of wood, and very nicely - fitted up. Sitting-room at one end, then beds, - and then baths and cooking-place and offices; all - bright and shining and beautifully clean, with<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">[Pg 257]</a></span> - Red Cross nurses, doctors, orderlies, and no end - of benevolent smiles. They've taken our temperatures - and fixed us up very comfortably, and somebody's - started a gramophone, and I've just had - a cup of the glutinous, milky stuff I used to hate, - you remember. I don't hate such things nowadays; - not really, you know; but I pretend I don't - care much about 'em for the sake of the virtuous - glow it gives to take 'em.</p> - - <p>Everyone has asked everyone else where we are - going next, and everyone has been given benevolent - smiles and subsided into a Camps Library - magazine or book. The sitting-up cases are - pottering about in the sitting-room, where there - are basket chairs and the gramophone. I can see - them through the open door. The nurses have - fixed jolly little curtains and things about, so - that the place looks very homely. I gather it's a - sort of rest-house, or waiting-place, where cases - can be put, and stay put, till arrangements have - been made for their admission into the big hospitals, - or wherever they are to go. We have all - been separately examined by the Medical Officer. - My arm is so much better, I think it must be - practically well. I don't know about the leg. I - asked the M.O.—an awfully decent chap—to try<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">[Pg 258]</a></span> - to arrange things for me so that I should not be - cut adrift from my own Battalion, and he said he - thought that would be all right.</p> - - <hr class="tb" /> - - <p> - 3.30 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span><br /> - </p> - - <p>I'm for Blighty. The M.O. came and sat on my - bed just now and told me. He certainly is a - decent chap. He said the Medical Board had no - hesitation at all about my case, and that I was to - cross to England to-night. But he said I need not - worry about my Battalion. He was awfully good - about it; and he's giving me a letter to a brother of - his in London. He thinks I shall be able to get - back to my own Battalion all right, and he thinks - I shall be ready for duty much quicker by going - right through to Blighty than by waiting here. But - what do you think of it? Fancy going to Blighty; - and to-night, mind you! I'd never dreamt of it. - And what about poor old "A" Company? It's a - queer feeling. We've all been sorted out now; - the goats from the sheep. I suppose it's a case - of the worst-chipped crockery for Blighty, and - the rest for tinkering here. But I can't help - thinking a week, or two, at the outside, will put - me right.... Here come Army Forms to be - signed.</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">[Pg 259]</a></span></p> - - <hr class="tb" /> - - <p> - 9.30 <span class="smcap">P.M.</span><br /> - </p> - - <p>In bed on board the Red Cross ship. All - spotless white enamel and electric light, and spotlessly-aproned - nurses, just as in hospital. I've - just been dressed for the night; clean bandages and - everything comfortable. From the last benevolent - smile I elicited I shouldn't be surprised if we - weighed anchor round about midnight; but I - may be quite wrong. Anyhow, I feel remarkably - comfortable. I think there must have been - something specially comforting in the medicine - I had when my bandages were changed. I shall - sleep like a top. I don't think I've quite got the - hang yet of the fact that I am actually bound for - Blighty. But there it is; I'm on the ship, and I - suppose it's on the cards I may see you before - this scribble of mine can reach you by post. In - which case, it seems rather waste of time writing at - all, doesn't it? I think I'll go to sleep. I haven't - slept since the night before last. That boy I told - you of who was bombed, after being in a mine - explosion, is sleeping like an infant in the next - cot but one to mine. Nice-looking chap. I'm - glad he's sleeping; and I bet somebody will be - glad to see him in Blighty to-morrow. To-morrow! - Just fancy that!</p> - - <p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">[Pg 260]</a></span></p> - - <hr class="tb" /> - - <p> - <i>Next day.</i><br /> - </p> - - <p>To-day's the day. When I woke this morning I - had glimpses, as the ship rose and fell, of a green - shore showing through the portholes on the far - side of the deck. That was the Isle of Wight. - Had a magnificent sleep all night; only opened my - eyes two or three times. We were rather a long - time getting in. Then came Medical Officers of - the Home Service; and with surprisingly few - benevolent smiles—not that they lack benevolence, - at all—I learned that I was for London. - It hardly seemed worth while to write - any more, and I could not get off the ship to - send a wire.</p> - - <p>Now I am in a Red Cross division of an express - train bound for Waterloo. I'll send you a wire - from there when I know what hospital I am for. - Shan't know that till we reach Waterloo. Meantime—that's - Winchester we've just passed. Old - England looks just the same. There is a little - snow lying on the high ground round Winchester. - It looks the same—yes, in a way; and in another - way it never will look just the same again to me. - Never just the same, I think. It will always - mean a jolly lot more to me than it ever did before. - Perhaps I'll be able to tell you about that when<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">[Pg 261]</a></span> - we meet. I find I can't write it. Queer - thing, isn't it, that just seeing these fields - from the windows of a train should bring the - water to one's eyes? Very queer! One kind - of sees it all through a picture of the trenches, - you know.</p> - - <p>"The Old Peacemaker" didn't tell me, but I - know now that nearly half "A" Company are - casualties; and there's a good many "gone West." - Poor Taffy's gone. Such a clever lad, Taffy. - My Platoon won't be quite the same again, will - it? Platoon Sergeant, one other Sergeant, two - Corporals, and a lot of men gone. We were in - front, you see. Oh! I know there's nothing to - grieve about, really. Petticoat Lane's behind - our front now, thank goodness. That'll save - many a good man from "going West" between - now and the end of the war.</p> - - <p>I'm not grieving, but it makes a difference, just - as England is different. Everything must be - different now. It can't be the same again, ever, - after one's been in the trenches. If Germany - wants to boast, she can boast that she's altered - the world for us. She certainly has. It can never - be the same again. But I think it will be found, - by and by, she has altered it in a way she never<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">[Pg 262]</a></span> - meant. Of course, I don't know anything much - about it; just the little bit in one's own Brigade, - you know. But it does seem to me, from the - little I've seen, that where Germany meant to - break us, she has made us infinitely stronger - than we were before. Look at our fellows! Each - one is three times the man he was before the war. - The words "fighting for England" had next to no - meaning for me before August, 1914. But now! - that's why these fields look different, why England - can never again look the same to me as it did - before. I know now that this England is part of - me, or I'm part of it. I know the meaning of - England, and I swear I never did before. Why, - you know, the very earth of it—well, when I - think how the Boche has torn and ravaged all - before him over there, and then think of our - England, of what the Hun would do here, if - he got half a chance.... It's as though England - were one's mother, and some swine were - to——</p> - - <p>But it's no good. I can't write about it. I'll - try to tell you. But, do you know, it wasn't - till I saw these fields that the notion came over - me that I'm sort of proud and glad to have - these blessed wounds; glad to have been knocked<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">[Pg 263]</a></span> - about a bit. I wonder whether you and Mother - will be glad, too; I somehow think you will—for - your</p> - - <p class="right"> - "<i>Temporary Gentleman.</i>"<br /> - </p> - - <p class="center">THE END</p> - - <hr class="chap" /> - <p class="ph2"><i>A Selection from the<br /> - Catalogue of</i><br /> - G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS</p> - - <p class="ph3">Complete Catalogues sent<br /> - on application</p> - - <div class="box"> - <p class="ph2"><big>FIRST CALL</big><br /> - <small>GUIDE POSTS TO BERLIN</small></p> - - <p class="ph2"><small>BY</small><br /> - ARTHUR GUY EMPEY<br /> - <small><i>Author of "OVER THE TOP"</i></small></p> - - <p class="center"><i>12°. Illustrated. $1.50 (By mail, $1.65)</i></p> - - <p>In the amazingly vivid and simple way that - has made <b>Over the Top</b> the most widely read - and talked of book in America, and the most - successful war book in all history, Empey tells - the new soldiers</p> - - <p class="ucenter"> - What they want to know<br /> - What they ought to know<br /> - What they'll have to know - </p> - - <p>and what their parents, sweethearts, wives, and - all Americans, will want to know, and can do to - help.</p> - - <p>A practical book by an American who has - been through it all.</p> - - <p>The chapters headed "Smokes" and "Thank - God the Stretcher Bearers" will stand among - the war classics.</p> - - <p>Here is advice, here are suggestions, overlooked - in other books, that will safeguard our - boys in France.</p> - - <hr class="tb" /> - - <p class="center">G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS<br /> - New York London</p> - </div> - - <div class="box"><p class="ph2"><small><span class="u"><i>IT IS THE REAL STUFF</i></span></small><br /> - - <big><span class="u">OVER THE TOP</span></big><br /> - - <small>BY AN AMERICAN SOLDIER WHO <span class="u">WENT</span></small> - </p> - - <p class="ph3"><span class="u">ARTHUR GUY EMPEY</span><br /> - <small>MACHINE GUNNER, SERVING IN FRANCE</small></p> - - <p class="ph4"><small><i>AUTHOR OF</i></small><br /> - "<i>FIRST CALL</i>"</p> - - <p>For a year and a half, until he - fell wounded in No Man's Land, this - American soldier saw more actual - fighting and real warfare than any war - correspondent who has written about - the war. His experiences are grim, - but they are thrilling and lightened by - a touch of humor as original as the - Soldiers Three. And they are <span class="u">true.</span></p> - - <p class="center"><i>12°. 16 Illustrations and Diagrams. $1.50 net.</i><br /> - <i>By mail, $1.65</i></p> - - <p class="center">TOGETHER WITH TOMMY'S DICTIONARY OF THE TRENCHES</p> - - <p class="ph4">"<i>Over The Top with the Best of Luck and Give Them Hell!</i>"</p> - - <p class="center"><i>The British Soldier's War Cry, as he goes over the top of the trench to the charge</i></p></div> - - <div class="box"><p class="ph2">By Bruce Bairnsfather</p> - <hr class="tb" /> - - <p>"<b>A War Lord of Laughter.</b>"—<i>The Literary Digest.</i></p> - - <p class="ph2"><big>Fragments from France</big><br /> - - <small>Author of</small><br /> - - <big>"Bullets & Billets"</big></p> - - <p class="center"><i>8°. 143 Plates. 15 Small Illustrations</i><br /> - <i>$1.75 net. By mail, $1.90</i></p> - - <p>Captain Bruce Bairnsfather's sketches set all England - chuckling, when they first appeared in the <i>Bystander</i>, and - they have met with as hearty a welcome by Americans - who have had the luck to see them. Greatest of all commendation, - German prisoners have been known to become - hilarious over these indescribable pictures of life in - the trenches, and war-fed "Tommys" roar over them. - Now, with their amusing captions, they have been - gathered into one volume.</p> - - <p>These pictures have won in England for the author the - title "The man who made the Empire laugh," and caused - the <i>Literary Digest</i> to refer to him as "A War Lord of - Laughter." They are all war pictures, but calculated to - take a deal of the bitterness out of war.</p></div> - - <div class="box"><p class="ph2"> - <big>Bullets & Billets</big><br /> - <small>By</small><br /> - Bruce Bairnsfather<br /> - </p> - <p class="ph4">Author of "Fragments from France" - </p> - - <p class="center"><i>12°. 18 Full-page and 23 Text Illustrations. $1.50<br /> - By mail, $1.60</i></p> - - <p>"'Bill,' 'Bert,' and 'Alf' have turned - up again. Captain Bairnsfather has - written a book—a rollicking and yet - serious book—about himself and them, - describing the joys and sorrows of his - first six months in the trenches. His - writing is like his drawing. It suggests - a masculine, reckless, devil-may-care - character and a workmanlike soldier. - Throughout the book he is as cheerful - as a schoolboy in a disagreeable football - match."—<i>London Evening News.</i></p> - - <hr class="tb" /> - <p class="center">G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS<br /> - New York London</p></div> - -<p class="transnote">Transcriber's note:<br /> - -Minor typographical errors have been corrected without note. Other -errors are noted below.<br /> - -- Changed typo on pg. 2: "out" > "our" ("with out regimental - hound pacing in front")<br /> -- Removed extraneous comma pg. 23 ("opposite, our Battalion - Headquarters.")<br /> - -Ambiguous hyphens at the ends of lines were retained.<br /> - -Word combinations that appeared with and without hyphens were changed -to the predominant form if it could be determined, or to the hyphenated -form if it could not.<br /> -</p> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of A Temporary Gentleman in France, by -A. J. (Alec John) Dawson - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK A TEMPORARY GENTLEMAN IN FRANCE *** - -***** This file should be named 50247-h.htm or 50247-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/0/2/4/50247/ - -Produced by GÃsli Valgeirsson, Richard Hulse and the -Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net -(This file was produced from images generously made -available by The Internet Archive) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for the eBooks, unless you receive -specific permission. If you do not charge anything for copies of this -eBook, complying with the rules is very easy. You may use this eBook -for nearly any purpose such as creation of derivative works, reports, -performances and research. They may be modified and printed and given -away--you may do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks -not protected by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the -trademark license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country outside the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and - most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no - restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it - under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this - eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the - United States, you'll have to check the laws of the country where you - are located before using this ebook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm web site -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from both the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation and The -Project Gutenberg Trademark LLC, the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark. Contact the Foundation as set forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - - - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's principal office is in Fairbanks, Alaska, with the -mailing address: PO Box 750175, Fairbanks, AK 99775, but its -volunteers and employees are scattered throughout numerous -locations. Its business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, Salt -Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up to -date contact information can be found at the Foundation's web site and -official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -For additional contact information: - - Dr. Gregory B. Newby - Chief Executive and Director - gbnewby@pglaf.org - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without wide -spread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg Web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our Web site which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This Web site includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. - - - -</pre> - - </body> - </html> diff --git a/old/50247-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/50247-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index ba9c4da..0000000 --- a/old/50247-h/images/cover.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/50247-h/images/rosetta.jpg b/old/50247-h/images/rosetta.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 3b26917..0000000 --- a/old/50247-h/images/rosetta.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/50247-h/images/trenches.jpg b/old/50247-h/images/trenches.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 02d6315..0000000 --- a/old/50247-h/images/trenches.jpg +++ /dev/null |
