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+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.
+
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+Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for
+eBook #50247 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/50247)
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-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
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-<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&mdash;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,"&mdash;even as there must be many
- thousands of his like in America,&mdash;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&mdash;back there in 1916&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;the
- letters, I mean&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;&mdash;</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&mdash;we were nearly
- a year training at home, you know&mdash;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 &mdash;&mdash; over a thousand strong.
- At twenty minutes to eleven we marched down
- the wharf here at &mdash;&mdash;, 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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;a sore heel,
- or a split canteen of stew, or a button torn off&mdash;"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&mdash;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&mdash;&mdash;, 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&mdash;"Pang&mdash;Compree?"
- says Tommy to the French
- women, with a finger at his mouth&mdash;and then
- socks and boots again. You thought we paid a
- good deal in the shop for those swanky trench
- boots, W&mdash;&mdash; 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&mdash;we march
- on the right of the road in France&mdash;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&mdash;the joy of that
- shedding!&mdash;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&mdash;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'&mdash;see?
- In Engletairy, 'bread'&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;roast
- duck and sausages and treacle pudding&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;lucky
- beggars!&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;"Kayser," they call him&mdash;couldn't make
- brutes and bullies of 'em. Warm their blood&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;I'm afraid
- I haven't written since&mdash;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&mdash;M. le Maire's&mdash;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&mdash;&mdash;, 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&mdash;as seen in war time&mdash;draped in
- sacking and year-old cobwebs. Here, after some
- rather embarrassing conversation, chiefly gesticulatory
- on my side&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;it's invaluable for lighting
- braziers when one's only fuel is muddy coke
- and damp chits&mdash;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&mdash;remember
- how you used to laugh at our auction catalogue
- superlatives in cellar lots?&mdash;to rob a man of his
- boots at times. For my hands&mdash;chipped about
- a bit now&mdash;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&mdash;&mdash;, 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&mdash;little Hinkson
- of my No. 2 section&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;I trust the inventor
- has been given a dukedom&mdash;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&mdash;some
- of the beggars appear to be extraordinarily
- polygamous in the number of girls they write to;
- bless 'em!&mdash;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&mdash;rather bucked about it,
- you know&mdash;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 &mdash;&mdash;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 &mdash;&mdash;,
- 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&mdash;a
- favourite target for Boche shells, that bit of
- road&mdash;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&mdash;not the little village
- close to Ambulance Corner, where most roofs and
- walls show shell-torn rents and a few are smashed
- to dust&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;unhealthy places, you know, more
- exposed to Boche fire than others&mdash;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&mdash;picks,
- shovels, wire, pumps, small-arm ammunition,
- rockets, mud-scoops, trench repair material,
- and all that&mdash;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&mdash;repairing
- parapets, laying duck-walks, etc.&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;&mdash;, 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&mdash;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&mdash;that's this dug-out&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;once at about ten, and again
- about twelve&mdash;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&mdash;only
- five, all told&mdash;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&mdash;the first I'd seen of the enemy in
- the open&mdash;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&mdash;crawling, you know&mdash;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&mdash;we were just
- beside a traverse&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;and
- he won't&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;Billy&mdash;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&mdash;the sheet dripping on your
- neck the while&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;say, 30 inches by 20 inches&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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. &mdash;&mdash;, 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&mdash;? 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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;initiative,
- you know, and so on&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;observation&mdash;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&mdash;a Lewis, you know<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">[Pg 95]</a></span>&mdash;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&mdash;thirty or forty yards&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;or, rather, our billet, for all "A"
- Company officers are under the one roof here&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;far less grunt&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;here's the point&mdash;the bolt
- of the rifle from which that bullet came was pulled
- back and jammed home for the next shot&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;there
- must be something in telepathy, you know&mdash;that
- this change seemed to communicate itself
- almost instantly to the men&mdash;bless their simple
- souls!&mdash;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&mdash;their battery commander's
- evening sauerkraut had disagreed with
- him, or something&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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
- &mdash;&mdash;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&mdash;the extra night supply
- I mean&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;&mdash;'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&mdash;&mdash;,
- 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&mdash;&mdash; 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&mdash;&mdash; 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&mdash;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&mdash;&mdash;, 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&mdash;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&mdash;which I
- don't believe, mind you&mdash;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&mdash;&mdash;</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&mdash;for days on
- end of fighting&mdash;not only quickly, but instantly;
- without any delay at all. That is why, in the
- British Army, at all events&mdash;and I've no doubt
- the French are the same&mdash;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&mdash;every
- head remains ducked. We've been at some
- pains to teach 'em that. Twenty seconds later&mdash;or
- it may be two minutes&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;I
- shall always reproach myself for not keeping him
- farther from that ill-omened spot&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;there are only
- three of us now, besides "the Peacemaker"&mdash;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&mdash;in the dug-out we call it lunch, from
- habit, but it's about the same thing as the evening
- meal, as a rule&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;the
- sentries are always double by night and
- single by day&mdash;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, &mdash;&mdash; 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&mdash;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&mdash; 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&mdash;examination
- of the Boche wire&mdash;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&mdash;about eighteen
- inches high, planted among the front wire stakes&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;thirteen of 'em&mdash;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.&mdash;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"&mdash;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&mdash;&mdash;'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&mdash;doesn't rustle.</p>
-
- <p>I dare say you've heard that phrase&mdash;I forget
- whose it is&mdash;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"&mdash;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&mdash;the "Temporary Gentlemen,"
- you know&mdash;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&mdash;of all things&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;clearing out a
- trench and building up a parapet, we'll say&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;never
- driven&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;they
- come from every class of the community&mdash;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&mdash;the French as well as ours&mdash;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&mdash;the Olympians do not deal in
- whys and wherefores&mdash;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&mdash;about half the length of the line
- we last held&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;in English, you know&mdash;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&mdash;they're
- not,&mdash;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&mdash;and,
- of course, they have dozens of dirtier ones
- than this&mdash;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&mdash;like sportsmen. You've only to
- indicate to them that this or that is a rule of the
- game&mdash;of any game&mdash;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&mdash;"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&mdash;&mdash;</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"&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;chose
- me for it&mdash;because he thought it would be
- good for me. He was ordered to send an officer
- to arrange about billets for the Company in &mdash;&mdash;
- 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
- &mdash;&mdash;; 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 &mdash;&mdash; 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 &mdash;&mdash;.</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&mdash;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&mdash;as much as six<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_193" id="Page_193">[Pg 193]</a></span>
- and seven hundred in parts&mdash;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&mdash;it was a Highland regiment on our
- side&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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.&mdash;"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&mdash;I suppose he really
- ought not to expose himself to that extent&mdash;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&mdash;all miners and farm workers&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;no, not
- if the whole Prussian Guard turns out&mdash;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 &mdash;&mdash;, 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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;a sniper, anybody,&mdash;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&mdash;a trench nearly 800
- yards long, wire entanglements in front&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;"C" Company&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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 &mdash;&mdash;, 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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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.&mdash;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"&mdash;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&mdash;in luxurious
- comfort&mdash;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&mdash;a
- first-rate chap and a splendid surgeon&mdash;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&mdash;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 &mdash;&mdash;; 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&mdash;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&mdash;"Taffy"&mdash;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&mdash;they were very strong trenches indeed,
- to begin with, very strongly placed and favourably
- situated&mdash;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&mdash;which
- is, I think, admitted to be the crack Company
- of the best Battalion in the Brigade&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;not serious, I am thankful to say&mdash;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&mdash;he was
- already wounded&mdash;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&mdash;there is,
- of course, no question of his coming back to duty
- in a few days, as he fancies&mdash;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&mdash;all that is left of us&mdash;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&mdash;you remember my batman, Lawson, on
- Salisbury Plain&mdash;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 &mdash;&mdash;'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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash; 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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;by long odds the finest feel I ever
- had in my life&mdash;there was a queer, worrying little
- thought, too. I knew some of our men were
- dropping, and&mdash; "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&mdash;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!"&mdash;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 &mdash;&mdash;. 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&mdash;&mdash;, 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 &mdash;&mdash; 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&mdash;as
- I understand it&mdash;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&mdash;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 &mdash;&mdash;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&mdash;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 &mdash;&mdash;. 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.&mdash;an awfully decent chap&mdash;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&mdash;not that they lack benevolence,
- at all&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;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&mdash;&mdash;</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&mdash;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>"&mdash;<i>The Literary Digest.</i></p>
-
- <p class="ph2"><big>Fragments from France</big><br />
-
- <small>Author of</small><br />
-
- <big>"Bullets &amp; 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 &amp; 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&mdash;a rollicking and yet
- serious book&mdash;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."&mdash;<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>
-
-
-
-
-
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-</pre>
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- </body>
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