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If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - - - -Title: The Brown Brethren - -Author: Patrick MacGill - -Release Date: June 27, 2017 [EBook #54990] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BROWN BRETHREN *** - - - - -Produced by MWS, Ernest Schaal, and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - - - - - THE BROWN BRETHREN - - PATRICK MACGILL - - - - - THE BROWN - BRETHREN - - BY - PATRICK - MACGILL - - AUTHOR OF "THE RED HORIZON," - "THE GREAT PUSH," ETC. - - [Illustration] - - NEW YORK - GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY - - - - - COPYRIGHT, 1917, - BY GEORGE H. DORAN COMPANY - - - PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA - - - - - TO MY FRIEND - - J. N. D. - - - - - CONTENTS - - - CHAPTER PAGE - - I. AT THE CAFÉ BELLE VUE 11 - - II. THE LONE ROAD 27 - - III. IN LOVE 46 - - IV. TO THE TRENCHES 61 - - V. MARCHING 74 - - VI. CHRISTMAS EVE 83 - - VII. CHRISTMAS DAY 93 - - VIII. BACK TO HIS OWN 107 - - IX. TRENCH FEVER 120 - - X. LOST TO THE WIDE 131 - - XI. A SCRAP 148 - - XII. THE DAY'S WORK 157 - - XIII. THE TRENCHES 167 - - XIV. THE SNIPER 182 - - XV. TATERS AND VASELINE 196 - - XVI. THE ROOKY 209 - - XVII. YOUNG BLOOD 222 - - XVIII. BATHING 241 - - XIX. THE SOMME 253 - - XX. BACK FROM BATTLE 271 - - XXI. RESTING 280 - - XXII. THE MARRIED MAN 288 - - - - - THE BROWN BRETHREN - - - - - THE - BROWN BRETHREN - - CHAPTER I - - AT THE CAFÉ BELLE VUE - - Strict on parade! When I'm on it I'm ready - To shove blokes about if they do not keep steady! - Comin' the acid! Stow it there! or it - Won't do with me and then you'll be for it! - Swingin' the lead! Them, the dowsiest rankers - That ne'er 'ad C.B. or a dose of the jankers, - Swing it on Snoggers! I'd like them to do it - And good God Awmighty then, I'll put them froo it! - - Off it, I'm off. Then I'll brush up my putties, - Try and look posh and get off wiv my butties, - A drink at the Café, a joke wiv the wenches, - Last joke per'aps, for we're due for the trenches. - Then stick to wiv pride as our mateys have stuck it - When kissin' the wenches or kickin' the bucket. - - (_From "A Service Song."_) - -The night had fallen and the Café Belle Vue was crowded with soldiers -in khaki. The day's work was at an end, and the men had left their -billets to come out and spend a few hours in the wine-shop of Jean -Lacroix. A whole division was quartered in the district; it had come -back from the firing-line and was enjoying a brief period of rest prior -to its departure for the trenches again. - -Even here, back near the town of Cassel, the men were not free from the -sights and sounds of the fighting. At night they could see the red -agony of war painting the distant horizon, and hear the far-off -rumbling of the big guns as the thunder and tumult of the conflict -smote across the world. The men back from the line of slaughter tried -not to think too clearly of what was happening out there. In the Café -Belle Vue, where the wine was good, men could forget things. - -The Café was crowded. Half-a-dozen soldiers stood at the bar and the -patronne served out drinks with a speedy hand. Behind her was a number -of shelves on which stood bottles of various sizes. Over the shelves -were two photographs; one was her own, the other was that of her -husband when he was a thinner man and a soldier in the army. In the -house there was one child, a dirty, ragged little girl, who sat in a -corner and fixed a dull meaningless stare on the soldiers as they -entered the café. - -Jean Lacroix sat beside the long-necked stove stroking his beard, a -neat white little beard which stood perkily out from his fat chin. Jean -Lacroix was fat, a jelly blob of a man with flesh hanging from his -sides, from his cheeks and from his hands. He was a heap of blubber -wrapped in cloth. When he changed his locality he shuffled instead of -walking, when he laughed he shivered and shook his fat as if he wanted -to fling it off. He was seldom serious, when he was, all those near him -laughed. A serious Jean was a ridiculous figure. - -His wife was an aggressive female with a dark moustache, the tongue of -a shrew and the eye of a money-lender. She worked like an ant and -seldom spoke to her husband. Jean, wise with the wisdom of a well-fed -man, rarely said a word to her; he sat by the fire all day and spoke to -anyone else who cared to listen. - -A sergeant and three men entered and going up to the bar called for -drinks. These soldiers were billeted at Y---- Farm which stood some -three kilometres away from the Café Belle Vue. They belonged to the -London Irish Regiment. The battalion had just come down from Hulluch -for a rest. Having procured their drinks the four men sat down, lit -their cigarettes and entered into a noisy conversation. - -Before going any further it will be well to say a few words about these -men, the principal personages of my story. - -The sergeant's name was Snogger. He was a well-built man, straight as a -ramrod and supple as an eel. He was very strict on parade, a model -soldier, a terror to recruits and a rank disciplinarian. "When you're -on parade you're on parade," was his pet saying. He had a tendency to -use the letter "w" a little too often when speaking. Once he said -admonishing a dilatory squad: "You blokes in the wear wank must wipe -your wifles wiv woily wags in future!" - -Sergeant Snogger was a handsome man, proud as Lucifer and very careful -about his person. His moustache was always waxed, his finger nails were -always clean, and whenever possible he slept with his trousers placed -under his bed and neatly folded. Thus a most artistic crease was -obtained. - -Snogger had peculiar ears. Their tops pressed very closely into the -head and the lobes stood out. Looking at the ears from the side they -had an appearance similar to that of a shovel stretched out to catch -something; seen from behind they looked as if crouching against a -parapet waiting for an oncoming shell. - -The men liked Snogger and the sergeant preferred the company of -riflemen to that of his brother N.C.O.'s. - -Bowdy Benners was a different type of man. A young fellow of -twenty-four, slightly over medium height, but thick-set and sturdy. He -had remarkably long arms, heavy buttocks and broad shoulders. The -latter he swung vigorously when marching. This motion imparted a -certain defiant swagger to the man which his placid nature utterly -belied. He was of a kindly disposition, extremely good-humoured, but -very self-conscious and blushed red as a poppy when spoken to. There -was something very amiable and kind in his face; something good and -comforting in his sleepy eyes, his rather thick lips and full cheeks. -His ears perhaps were out of keeping with the repose which found -expression on the rest of his features. They stood out from his head -alert and ready, as it seemed, to jump from their perch on to the -ground. - -Bowdy could drink like a fish, but French beer never made him drunk and -champagne merely made him merry. When merry he swore and his companions -laughed at this unaccustomed violence. - -"Devil blow me blind," he would say, stretching his long arm across the -table at which he might be sitting and bringing down his massive fist -with a thundering bang. "Devil blow me stone blind for a fool!" And all -the soldiers around would laugh and wink at one another, as much as to -say: "Is he not a big silly fool; not half as clever as we are." - -Bowdy was not indeed particularly clever; he lacked excessive sharpness -of wit. But his mates loved him, for his spirit of comradeship was very -genuine and he had a generous sympathy for all things good and noble. -Often when the boys' tongues were loosened in a French tavern one of -them might be heard saying: "Old Bowdy's a damned good sort. I'd follow -him anywhere, even to hell." - -Then the others would answer: "None like old Bowdy. One of the best he -is. And a good man." - -Bowdy was indeed a good man; a great fighter. In raids, in bayonet -charges and bombing encounters he was a force to be reckoned with and -never had an adversary been known to get the better of him. -Persistence, staying power and dogged courage were his great assets, -and these when taken in conjunction with his good humour and simple -nature made him a loved comrade and worthy friend. - -Bowdy was now seated at the inn table, drinking beer with his mate, an -alert youth with a snub nose and bright vivacious eyes. His name was -Spudhole. - -Spudhole was a Londoner, a native of Walworth. His real name was Thomas -Bubb, but his mates nicknamed him Spudhole, a slang term for the -guard-room. The nickname became him, he liked it and was not a little -proud of the fact that no man in the regiment spent as many days in the -guard-room as did Rifleman Thomas Bubb. He was eternally guilty of -trivial offences against Army regulations. This was in a great measure -due to his inability to accommodate himself to a changed environment. -He was a coster unchangeable and unchanged; to him an officer was -always "Guv'nor," he addressed an officer as such, and the Colonel was -the "ole bloke." His tongue was seldom quiet and the cries of his trade -were ever on his tongue, even on parade he often gave them expression. -He sang well, drank well, fought well, and loved practical jokes. - -Once at St. Albans he dressed himself up as a corporal, took two of his -mates to the railway station and relieved the military police on duty -there. Mistaking him for a real N.C.O. they left the station in his -hands. Of course he took the first train to London. On his return he -was awarded fourteen days' spud-hole. - -When in the guard-room he decided to escape and at the hour of twelve -on the first night when a sentry stood on watch outside his prison -Spudhole broke the window with a resounding thump. Then he rushed back -and stood behind the door. He was in stocking-soles, his boots were -slung round his shoulders by the laces. On hearing the crash the sentry -opened the door, sprang into the room and hurried to the window -thinking that Spudhole was trying to escape by that quarter--and -Spudhole went out by the door. - -He was very good-natured, in fact quixotic. Once a recruit belonging to -Bubb's section was so very slack that the officer brought him out in -front of the squad and got him to perform several movements in musketry -drill. The remainder of the party had to shout out when the man made -any mistakes. As is usual, the onlookers saw many faults and shouted -themselves hoarse. But Bubb was silent. When the slack recruit returned -to his place in the ranks the officer spoke to Spudhole. - -"Did you notice any of those mistakes?" he asked. - -"Yes, sir," Bubb replied. - -"And why did you not say so?" enquired the officer. - -"Well, I didn't want to give the bloke away," was Bubb's answer. - -The youngster had spent four years in a reformatory; afterwards as a -coster he presided over a barrow in a turning off Walworth Road. His -pitch was one of the best in the locality. He fell in love with a girl -who kept a barrow beside him. He often spoke of her to Bowdy Benners. - -"She's not 'arf a bird," he would say. "Nobody can take a mike out 'er. -I'm goin' to get spliced after the war too." - -Near the stove sat the remaining soldier, an Irishman named Fitzgerald. -He was a thin graceful fellow of about five-and-twenty, and could not, -to judge by his appearance, boast of very good health. His lips full -and red, his straight nose, delicate nostrils, black liquid eyes and -long lashes betrayed a passionate and sensitive nature. He was a -thoughtful man, grave and dutiful, but at times as petulant and -perverse as a child. Even when most perverse he was good company. - -He was exceedingly superstitious. His thoughts generally wandered with -startling suddenness from one subject to another but this was probably -due to the use of strong drink. He had had a college education but took -to drink early and squandered all his resources. Then he became a rover -and wandered through many parts of the world as sailor, tramp and -outcast. He had slept in doss-houses, on the pavements, in the fields. -Once indeed he was a trombone player in the Salvation Army, and again -he fought in a Mexican rebellion. Then he belonged to a regiment, the -soldiers of which had to wear great coats on their triumphal march -through a certain town because of the bad condition of their trousers. -Fitz knew a smattering of most languages but vowed that he was only -proficient in one--bad language. - -At present he was in a gay good humour and as he spoke to young Benners -his voice, loud enough but very soft and pleasant, penetrated to the -very corners of the inn. - -"Do you ever feel afraid, Bowdy?" he asked. "Funky, you know." Then, -without waiting for an answer, he went on: "God! I do feel afraid, -sometimes. Out on listening patrol. It's hell for a man with -imagination. Crawling out in the darkness between the lines. You hear -the grass whispering, and the darkness ahead of you may hide anything. -An awful face covered with blood may rise up in front, a hand may come -out and grasp you by the hair. The dead are lying around you, poor -quiet creatures, but you know that they're stronger than you are. I -often wish I couldn't think, that I lacked imagination, that I was a -clod of earth, just something like that plebeian there." Fitzgerald -raised his finger and pointed to Bubb who was rapping his idle fingers -on the legs of his chair. Bubb gazed at Fitzgerald and laughed. - -"Fleebian," he exclaimed. "I know wot that is. We 'ad one but the wheel -came off." - -"No imagination there," said Fitzgerald with an air of finality. "He -couldn't be afraid, that creature. No soul. I dare ten thousand times -as much to overcome my fear as that man would dare to win the V.C. When -I go out on listening patrol I am always furthest out. I feel if I'm a -yard behind the front man he'll consider me a coward, so I get out a -yard ahead of him and I tremble all the time. - -"God! I had a bad dream last night," Fitzgerald remarked swinging from -one topic to another. "I dreamt I saw a woman dressed in black looking -into an empty grave." - -"That's a bad sign," said the sergeant. "You'll be damned unlucky the -next time yer go up to the trenches. Ye'll never come back. Ye'll get -done in." - -"Oh, I'll come back safe and sound," Fitzgerald replied in all -seriousness. "The dream was a bad one and portended some evil." - -"And is it not bad enough to get done in?" asked Benners. - -"There are things worse than death," was Fitzgerald's answer. "Death is -not the supreme evil. But women! It's not good to dream of them -especially if they're red-haired. Did you ever dream of red-haired -women, Bowdy?" - -Bowdy laughed but did not speak. Women apparently did not attract him -much and in their company he was shy and diffident. Wanting to get away -as quickly as possible from their presence he would rake up some -imaginary appointment from the back of his head, ask to be excused and -disappear. Behaviour of this kind though natural to Bowdy Benners was -quite inexplicable to his mates. Fitzgerald having had a drop of wine -was now in a mood to discuss womanhood. - -"You're too damned modest, Bowdy," he said. "And you don't shine in the -company of the fair, dear women. You know the natural mission of woman -is to please man, and man, no matter what he feels, should try and look -pleased when in her company. If he looks bored what does that signify, -Bowdy Benners? Eh? It means that he has found her ugly. That's an -insult to the sex, to feminine charms and womanly qualities. For myself -I'd much sooner sin and please a woman than pose as a saint and annoy -her. Women don't like saints; what they want most in life is Love." - -"Love! Love is the only allurement in existence," said Fitzgerald -rising to his feet. "It is the essence of life. Love, free and -unrestrained, not tied to the pillars of propriety by the manacles of -marriage. (That's a damned smart phrase, isn't it, Spudhole?) Love is -sacred, marriage is not, marriage is governed by laws, love is not. -Nature has given us love. It is an instinct and we shouldn't fight -against it too much. Why should we fight against a gift from God? Some -sacrilegious fool tried to improve on God's handiwork and made laws to -govern love. It's like man to poke his nose in where it's not wanted. -He'd give the Lord soda water at the Last Supper." - -Snoggers laughed boisterously, Bubb chuckled and a lazy smile spread -over Bowdy's face. The gestures of the excited Irishman amused them. He -sat down, took a deep breath, then went on to speak in a calmer voice. - -"Love sweetens life," he said. "It is like sugar in children's physic. -Here, Spudhole, were you ever in love?" - -"Blimey, not arf," Spudhole answered and winked. "I'm not arf a beggar -wiv the birds. I'm...." - -"That wench down at the farm, that girl Fifi is a nice snug parcel o' -love," Snoggers interrupted, "I 'aven't arf got my 'and in down that -quarter. Wot d'ye fink o' 'er, Fitz?" - -"Who?" asked Fitzgerald. He had become suddenly alert. - -"'Ear 'im," said Bubb, winking at the Sergeant. "Old Fitz ain't arf a -dodger; one o' the nuts that's wot 'e is." - -"Fifi, the girl at the farm," said Snogger in answer to Fitzgerald's -question. "Yer don't say much when you're down there and 'er in the -room but your eyes are never off 'er.... I wouldn't say nothin' against -rollin' 'er in the straw.... This mornin' ... a funny thing ... she -came up to me and told me to put my 'and in 'ers. I obliged 'er. Then -she said to me: 'Two sous for your thoughts.' I didn't tell 'er wot I -was finkin' of, but I didn't arf fink." - -Snogger laughed loudly; Fitzgerald was silent. - -"Bet yer, yer wos finkin' somefing wot wasn't good, sarg," said Bubb. - -"Aye; and old Fitz is gwine dotty on the wench," said the sergeant. "I -see it in his eyes." - -"Botheration," Fitzgerald remarked. "I know the girl by sight and I -know she makes good café-au-lait, but I didn't even know her name until -now." - -"Sing a song, Fitz," Bubb called out. "A good rousin' song wiv 'air -on't." - -"I pay no heed to that creation, his tap-room wit and yokel humour," -muttered Fitzgerald, turning to Benners. "But if you desire it...." - -"Give us a bit o' a song, Fitz," Benners replied. - -"Give me a cigarette and I'll sing you a song that I love very much," -Fitzgerald said. "It was sung in Ireland by the old women in the famine -times when they were dying of starvation. You must picture the -famine-stricken leaning over their turf fires and singing their songs -of desolation. (God! I think it was the turf-fires that kept the race -alive.)" - - - - - CHAPTER II - - THE LONE ROAD - - "I want to go 'ome, - I want to go 'ome, - I don't want to go to the trenches no more, - Where the bullets and shrapnel do whistle and roar, - I want to go over the sea, - Where the Alley man can't get at me; - Oh, my! - I don't want to die, - I want to go 'ome!" - - (_A Trench Song._) - - -A strange glow overspread Fitzgerald's face and he rose from his seat -by the stove and sat down again on a bench in a corner and spread out -his hands timorously towards an imaginary fire. He bent his head -forward until it drooped almost to his knees and his whole attitude -took on a semblance of want and woe beset with an overpowering fear. -Benners gasped involuntarily as he waited for the song. - -A long, drawn out, hardly audible note that wavered like a thread of -smoke quivered out into the evil atmosphere of the apartment, it was -followed by a second and a third. A strange effect was produced on all -the listeners by the trembling voice of the singer. Bubb gaped -stupidly, his eyes fixed on the roof, as he rubbed his chin with the -fingers of his right hand. The sergeant drew himself up and listened, -fascinated. Fitzgerald's song was the song of a soul condemned to -inevitable sorrow; there was not a relieving touch, not a glow of hope, -it was the song of a damned soul. - - "Oh, the praties they are small - Over here. - Oh, the praties they are small - Over here. - The praties they are small - And we ate them skins and all, - Aye, and long afore the Fall, - Over here. - - No help in hour of need - Over here. - And God won't pay much heed - Over here. - Then whisht! Or He'll take heed - And He'll rot the pratie seed - And send other mouths to feed - Over here. - - I wish I was a duck - Over here. - To be eating clay and muck - Over here. - I'd sooner ... sooner ... I'd sooner...." - -"My God, I've forgotten it, Benners, forgotten the rest of the song," -Fitzgerald exclaimed, throwing his unlighted cigarette on the floor and -gripping his hair with both hands as if going to pull it out of his -head. Then, as if thinking better of it, he brought both his hands to -his sides and sat down on his original seat, his whole face betokening -extreme self-pity. - -"My memory!" he exclaimed. "My memory! Why was I brought into being?" - -A minute's silence followed, then an eager glow lit up Fitzgerald's -face. A happy inspiration seemed to have seized hold of him. "Benners!" -he exclaimed in an eager voice. "Have you a cigarette to spare, -Benners?" - -"Gorblimey!" laughed Bubb. "Listen to 'im. 'E's always on the 'ear-'ole -for fags, an' 'e throws arf of 'em away. 'E's not arf a nib, ole Fitz." - -"Good Heavens, how can I endure such remarks from a damned Sassenach! -(I beg your pardon, Bubb)" Fitzgerald exclaimed, gripping with both -fingers the cigarette which Benners had given him and breaking it in -two. "You don't understand me, Bubb, you can't. I don't bear you any -malice, but, heavens! you are trying at times.... By the way," he -added, "can you give us one of your songs?" - -Bubb looked at Fitzgerald for a moment then lit a cigarette and got to -his feet. - -"Wot about Ole Skiboo?" he asked, addressing the remark to all in the -room. - -The soldiers knew that he was going to oblige and applauded with their -hands. - -Bubb fixed his eyes on the patronne and started: - - "Madame, 'ave yer any good wine? - Skiboo! Skiboo! - Madame, 'ave yer any good wine? - Skiboo! - Madame, 'ave yer any good wine - Fit for a rifleman o' the line? - Skiboo! Skiboo! Skiboolety bill skiboo! - - "Madame, 'ave yer a daughter fair? - Skiboo! Skiboo! - Madame, 'ave yer a daughter fair? - Skiboo! - Madame, 'ave yer a daughter fair? - And I will take her under my care, - Skiboo! Skiboo! Skiboolety bill skiboo! - - "Madame, I've got money to spend, - Cinq sous! Cinq sous! - Madame, I've got money to spend, - Cinq sous! - Madame, I've got money to spend, - Seldom the case with your daughter's friend, - Cinq sous! Cinq sous, cinq slummicky slop! Cinq sous!" - -The song, an old one probably, but adapted to suit modern -circumstances, was lustily chorused by the soldiers in the room. Bubb -having finished sat down, but presently rose to his feet again. - -"'Oo'l whistle the chorus of 'It's a long way to Tipperary'?" he asked. -"Everybody do it together and the one that does it froo I'll stand 'im -a drink. Nobody to laugh. And the one that's not able to do it will -stand me a drink. Is that a bargain? Nobody to laugh, mind." - -The men agreed to Bubb's terms and started whistling. But they did not -get far. They had drunk quite a lot and Bubb's final injunction tickled -them. One smiled, then another. Bowdy Benners lay back and roared with -laughter. He tried to form his lips round a note but the effort was -futile. It was impossible to laugh and whistle at the same time. -Fitzgerald was making a sound that reminded the listeners of an angry -cat spitting. His cheeks were puffed out and his nose was sinking out -of sight. The landlord rolled from side to side choking almost, even -the patronne was smiling. The little ragged girl came across the floor -and stood in front of Fitz, her hands behind her back. For a moment she -stood thus, then she ran away giggling and hid behind the counter. -Fitzgerald got to his feet. - -"Bubb, Spudhole or whatever the devil they call you, you've won," he -said. "What a queer creature that child is, boys," he muttered, looking -at the youngster which was peeping slyly out from behind the counter. -"Is it a boy or a girl?" - -Bubb approached the counter and drank the glass of vin rouge which -Benners had paid for; then he thrust his hands in his trouser pockets -and began to sing "Sam Hall." - - "My name is Samuel Hall, - Tiddy fol lol, tiddy fol lol!" - -"Bowdlerise it, you fool," Fitzgerald exclaimed sitting down again. -"Bowdlerise the song or stop singing. Bad taste, Bubb, bad taste. Drink -doesn't improve your morals." - -Bubb ceased singing, not on Fitzgerald's behest, but because the -sergeant was standing him a drink. Old Jean Lacroix who was slowly -recovering from his fit of laughter turned to Fitzgerald. - -"The Bosche broke through up by Souchez last night," he said, pointing -a fat thumb towards the locality of the firing line. "He broke through -in hundreds. He is unable to get back now and he is roving all over the -country." - -"They haven't been captured?" said Fitzgerald. - -"Some of them," said Jean. "Most of them perhaps, but not all. Last -night they were about here." - -"Here?" enquired Fitzgerald. "Did you see them?" - -"Have I seen them?" asked Jean, shivering with laughter. "They can't be -seen. They disguise themselves as turnips, as bushes, as English -soldiers.... Last night two of your countrymen, soldiers, left here at -nine o'clock; and got killed." - -Jean paused. - -"Where were they killed?" asked Fitzgerald. - -"You are billeted at Y---- Farm, are you not?" enquired the innkeeper. -"You are. Then you came along the road to-night coming here. Did you -see a ruined cottage on your right, a little distance back from the -road?" - -"A mile from here?" said Fitzgerald. "Yes, we saw it." - -"That is where it happened," said Jean Lacroix. "The two soldiers were -found there this morning with their throats cut, lying on the floor." - -Fitzgerald got to his feet and entered an outer room. There he found a -copy of an English magazine lying on a chair. He picked it up and -presently was deep in an article which tried to prove that war would be -a thing of the past if Prussia ceased to exist. When he had finished -reading he came back to the man by the stove and found him sitting -there all alone, his eyes fixed on the flames. Benners was not there, -he had left, accompanied by Spudhole and the sergeant. The farm in -which their company was billeted was some two miles off. - -Fitzgerald looked at his watch and saw that it was nine o'clock. - -"Nine o'clock," he said aloud, and something familiar in the words -struck him. Two soldiers left the wine shop the night previous at nine -o'clock and next morning they were discovered lying in a ruined cottage -with their throats cut. None of the men now in the inn were billeted at -Y---- Farm. Fitzgerald had to go home alone. He swung his bandolier -over his shoulder, lifted his rifle from the table and went out into -the night. The story which Jean Lacroix had told affected Fitzgerald -strongly. A stranger in a new locality he was ready to give credence to -any tale. - -Fitzgerald had seen very little of trench warfare. True, he had come -out to France with his regiment in March of 1915 but then he got -wounded on his first journey to the trenches and was sent back to -England. He came out again in time to take part in the battle of Loos -and got gassed in the charge. Followed a few weeks in the hospital at -Versailles and then he was sent back to the trenches. He had seen a -fortnight's trench warfare, done turns in listening patrol and -sentry-go, before coming back with his battalion to Y---- Farm near the -town of Cassel. So now, although first battalion man, he was in many -ways a "rooky," one who was not as yet versed in the practices of -modern warfare. Now, on the way back to his billet he thought of Jean -Lacroix's story and a strange fit of nervousness laid hold of him. What -might happen in the darkness he could not tell, and he wished that his -mates had not gone leaving him to come back alone. They ought to have -looked him up. He was annoyed with them. He was angry. - -The road stretched out in front a dull streak of grey, lined with -ghostly poplars, that lost itself in the darkness ahead. The night was -gloomy and chilly, a low weird wind crooned in the grass and a belated -night-bird shrieked painfully in the sky above. Far out in front the -carnage was in full swing, the red fury of war lit the line of battle -and darts of flame, ghastly red, pierced the clouds in a hasty -succession of short vicious stabs. Round Fitzgerald was the flat -dead country, black and limitless, and over it from time to time -swift flashes of light would rise and tremble in the gloom like -will-o'-the-wisps over a churchyard. The sharp penetrating odour of -dung was in the air, the night-breath of the low-lying land of -Flanders. - -The shadows gathered round the man silently. One rushed in from the -fields and took on an almost definite form on the roadway in front. He -could not help gazing round from time to time and staring back along -the road. What might be following! He was all alone, apart from his -kind, isolated. One hand gripped tightly on his rifle and the fingers -of the other fumbled at his bandolier. He ran his hand over the -cartridges, counting them aloud. Fifty rounds. But he had none in the -magazine of his rifle. He should have five there. But he would not put -them in now. He would make too much noise. - -He walked at a good steady pace; and hummed a tune under his breath, -trying thus to keep down any disposition to shiver. His eyes becoming -accustomed to the darkness could now take stock of the roadway, the -grassy verge and the ditch on either side. The poplars rose high and -became one with the sombre darkness of the sky. Shadows lurked in the -ditches, bundled together and plotting some mischief towards him. His -imagination conceived ghastly pictures of men lying flat in the shadows -staring at the heavens with glazed, unseeing eyes, their throats cut -across from ear to ear.... What a row his footsteps created! The noise -he kicked up must have echoed across the world. He hummed a tune -viciously and stared intensely into the remoter darkness of the -unknown. - -The breeze whimpered amidst the poplar leaves and its sigh was carried -ever so far away. Again a shadow swept up from the fields and took -shape on the road in front. Fitzgerald advanced towards it quickly and -collided with a solid mass, a living form. - -"I am sorry," he muttered. - -"Good evening," said a voice with a queer strange note in it. "You are -out late." - -"I am going back to my billet now," Fitzgerald said, and asked: "Where -are you going?" There was a moment's hesitation before the stranger -replied, saying: "I'm going to the next village." - -Fitzgerald could now see that the man was dressed as an English soldier -in a khaki uniform, a rifle over his shoulder and a bandolier round his -chest. Germans often disguise themselves as British soldiers, Jean -Lacroix said.... - -"What do you belong to?" Fitzgerald asked, stepping off after the -momentary halt. The man accompanied him. - -"The Army Service Corps," he answered readily enough, but his accent -struck Fitzgerald as being strangely unfamiliar; in his low guttural -tones there was something foreign. English could not have been his -mother tongue. For a while there was silence, but suddenly as if -overcome by a sense of embarrassment due to the silence, the man spoke. - -"Have you been long in France?" he asked. - -"I have been here for some time," Fitzgerald answered. - -"What is your regiment?" - -Being warned against giving any information to strangers, Fitzgerald -gave an evasive reply. - -"Oh, a line regiment," he said. - -The man chuckled. "Looks like it," he said. "Are you billeted here?" - -"I'm billeted at...." Fitzgerald stopped and asked "Where are you -billeted?" - -"Oh, at the next village," said the man. "A number of the A.S.C. are -billeted there." - -Again a long silence. Their boots crunched angrily on the roadway and -ahead the lights of war lit up the horizon. - -"They're fighting like hell up there," said the man. "There's a big -battle on now. Has your regiment been called up?" - -As he spoke he pulled his rifle forward across his chest and fumbled -with the bolt. Fitzgerald stared at him fascinated, his nerves strained -to an acute pitch. - -"What are you doing with your rifle?" he asked. - -"Oh, nothing," the stranger answered and slung the weapon over his left -shoulder. Had the man a round in the breech? Fitzgerald wondered. For -himself he had not even a cartridge in the magazine. What a fool he had -been not to take the precaution of being prepared for emergencies.... -The stranger came close to his side and his shoulder almost touched -Fitzgerald's. The Rifleman moved to the left, close to the verge of the -road and his hand slipped towards his bandolier. - -"It's very dark to-night," he said as his fingers closed on a -cartridge. - -"Very dark," said the man. - -"There's no moon," Fitzgerald remarked as he slipped the bolt of his -rifle back. Then with due caution he pressed the cartridge into the -mouth of the magazine. As far as he could judge the stranger had not -noticed the action. - -"No, there's no moon," he said in answer to Fitzgerald's remark. - -"How far is it to the next village?" asked Fitzgerald and shoved the -rounds into the magazine. The cartridge-clip clattered on to the -cobbles. - -"You've dropped something," said the stranger. "What was it?" - -"I've dropped nothing," the Irishman replied. "I must have hit my boot -against something." - -He glanced at the stranger's face. White and ghostly it looked, with a -protruding jowl and a dark moustache that drooped over the lips. As -Fitzgerald spoke he pressed the bolt home and now felt a certain -confidence enter his being. There was the round snug in the breech of -his rifle. One touch of the trigger.... - -"Did you think I dropped a shilling?" he laughed. "Wish I had one to -throw away." - -"Many a one would wish the same," said the man gruffly. - -Then he whistled a tune through his teeth, a contemplative whistle as -if he were considering something. - -"You're at Y---- Farm, of course," he suddenly remarked. "There are a -number of soldiers billeted there. You know the way to it?" - -"I know the way," Fitzgerald answered. - -"You leave the road at a ruined cottage along here and cross the -fields," said the man. "I'm going that way myself." - -"I leave the road further along," the Irishman said hastily. - -"Nonsense," said the man. "Past the ruined cottage is the best way." - -"I'm not going that way," Fitzgerald said. - -"Not going that way," repeated his companion. "Why not?" - -"I don't know the road through the fields there." - -"But I know the way." - -"I prefer to go further along," said Fitzgerald. "Two of my mates are -just ahead." - -"Where are they?" asked the stranger in a tone of surprise. "I thought -you were all alone." - -"They are just a few hundred yards on in front," was the answer. "Not -so far away." - -"Oh!" said the man. "Then that is why you're in such a hurry." - -"I'm in no particular hurry," said Fitzgerald. "But it is wise to be -back before 'Lights out.'" - -He could see the ruined cottage in front now, a black blur against the -night. The limitless levels stretched out on either side, frogs croaked -in the ponds, now and then a light shot up from the fields, trembled in -air for a moment and died away. The breezes of the night, the "unseen -multitude," as the ancients called them, capered by, crooning wearily. -In front, far ahead, the artillery fire redoubled in intensity and the -sky was lit by the brilliance of day. - -"Hell's loose out there," said the stranger. "It's not good to be -there; it's not good to die." - -The stranger turned off the road and walked a few yards down a lane in -the direction of the cottage. - -"I'm not going that way," said Fitzgerald coming to a halt. His -companion stopped. - -"Afraid?" he said. - -"Afraid! H'm! I'm not afraid," the Irishman answered, nettled at the -word. "All right, you go ahead. I'll follow." - -The man did not move. He fumbled in his pocket and brought something -out, something dark, small and tipped at the points as if with silver. -Fitzgerald imagined it to be a revolver and he slid his rifle forward -so that its muzzle pointed at the man's body. - -"Hold your weapon up, you fool," said the stranger, and a note of -concern was in his voice. "I've a pocket lamp here. We'll get off into -the fields now and I'll light the way with this. The place is full of -ponds and drains. Last night I fell into a hole somewhere about this -place ... you get off in front." - -"I'll follow," said Fitzgerald. "You lead the way." - -"All right," the man meekly responded. "Now we get off the road." - -He slipped into the field and the Irishman followed. Both were now near -the cottage and they could see its bare rafters and ruined walls -clearly. It looked gloomy and forbidding.... As Fitzgerald gazed at the -cottage he saw a light close to the dark ground; a tremulous flame -gleamed for a moment and was gone. - -"Did you see that?" asked the Irishman. "A light near the cottage?" - -"I saw nothing," said his companion. - -"You didn't see the flame. There's somebody in front. Friends of yours -maybe." - -"I've no friends here.... You saw a light?... Nonsense!" - -"There, what is that?" asked the Irishman as he heard a thud as of -somebody falling over a hurdle. "Did you not hear it?" - -"Yes, what is it?" asked the stranger extinguishing his torch. "I heard -something. Shall I shout?" - -"Why?" - -"Why?" exclaimed the man. "Only to find out who's there. Hallo!" he -yelled. - -Somebody answered with a loud "hallo!" and again a light gleamed in the -darkness. - -"Who's there?" shouted the stranger. - -"It's us," came the answer. "Blurry well lost in this blurry 'ole. 'Oo -are yer?" - -"Spudhole!" Fitzgerald shouted in a glad voice for he recognised the -voice of his mate. "Is Bowdy and the sergeant with you?" - -"Oh! It's old Fitz," Spudhole exclaimed. "We're lost, the three o' us, -and we don't know where we are. D'you know the way to the farm?" - -"We'll soon get there," Fitzgerald replied. "I've somebody with me who -knows the way." - -"Bring 'im along 'ere then," said Bubb. - -Fitzgerald turned to his companion who had just moved to one side, but -now he could not see him. On his right a dark form became one with the -night and lost itself. - -"Hi!" Fitzgerald shouted. But there was no reply. - -"Hi there!" he cried in a louder voice, but no answer came back. - -"There was somebody with me but he's gone now," he said to Bubb when he -reached him where he stood along with Benners and the sergeant beside a -dark pond near the ruined cottage. - -"Well, we had better try and get back to our billet," the sergeant -remarked. "Damn these beastly fields! We'll be damned unlucky if we -don't get out o' 'em." - -They got into the farmhouse at eleven o'clock. All their mates were in -bed and the watch-dog at the gate bit Bubb in the upper part of the -thigh as he came in. - - - - - CHAPTER III - - IN LOVE - As I was going up the road - Ma'selle said, "_Voulez vous_ - Come in and have some _pain et beurre_ - And _café au lait_ for two." - - So now I hope the war won't end; - I'll never go away - And leave my little Madamoiselle - Who sells good _café au lait_. - - I hope the war will never end,-- - A curse upon the day - That takes me away from Madamoiselle, - Who sells good _café au lait_. - - (_From "The Love of an Hour."_) - - -Fitzgerald made his way to the barn, which was above the byre, sat down -in the straw but did not unloosen his puttees or boots. - -A lamp swinging from a beam lit up the apartment, showing the straw -heaped in the corners, the sickles and spades hanging from the rafters, -the sleepers lying in all conceivable positions, the bundles of -equipment, the soldiers' rifles which stood piled in the corners out of -the way. Now and again a rat glided across the straw, stood for a -moment in the light, peered cautiously round, and disappeared. The air -was full of the smell of musty wood, of straw, and of the byre -underneath. All was very quiet, little could be heard save the -breathing of the men, the noise of the restless cattle as they lay down -or got up again. Snoggers and Benners laid themselves on the straw, -Bowdy curled up like a dog, Snoggers stretched out as stiffly as a -statue. Bubb undressed and Fitzgerald, getting to his feet, applied -sticking plaster to the dog's bite. - -"You'll go mad, you know," said Fitzgerald. "The only thing that can -save you is to get three hairs of the dog that bit you and put them on -here." - -Having performed his job Fitzgerald sat down and Bubb dressed again. -Then he lay on the straw, both hands in his overcoat pockets, one leg -across the other and a cigarette in his mouth. - -"Get down to it, Fitz," Snogger shouted. "Ye're damned slow o' showin' -a leg in the mornin', you woman." - -"It's all right, Sergeant," the Irishman replied. "I'm just goin' to -look at a paper. I'll be in bed in a twinkling." - -"Douse the glim 'fore you kip, then," said the sergeant. "Night!" - -Fitzgerald fumbled in his pocket, brought out a newspaper and looked at -it. His thoughts seemed to be elsewhere, for his eye, scanning the -printed columns of an advertisement page, turned from time to time and -rested on the face of Sergeant Snogger. - -"I think it's safe now," said Fitzgerald, when five minutes had passed. -"Old Snogger is snoring." - -The sergeant was indeed asleep, but had not lost his military pose. He -might have been frozen stiff while standing to attention on the parade -ground and carried from there into the barn and placed down just as he -had been standing. Bowdy was fighting Germans in his dreams. Bubb's -cigarette had fallen on his clothes and the smell of burning pervaded -the barn. - -Fitzgerald got to his feet, dropped the newspaper, lifted the fag-end -from Bubb's overcoat and turned out the lamp. Then, stepping across the -sleepers, he made his way cautiously to the door and descended the -steps leading to the farmyard. The night was very quiet; and very dark. -The lights were out in the farmhouse; no doubt the occupants were all -in bed. - -"What am I doing out here?" Fitz asked himself. "I'm drunk, that's -why." He stood still and he could feel his heart beating. Something was -moving in the midden and grunting. - -"It's a pig, I suppose," said the Irishman. "They're all over the -place." Then he thought of the dog that had bit Bubb. "Will it bite -me?" he questioned and moved hurriedly across the farmyard towards the -gable end of the building. He stood there for a second to draw breath, -then he went round to the back of the house. - -All were not yet in bed, a light burned behind a small four-paned -window and the shadow of a girl showed on the blind. Standing a little -distance from the window, Fitzgerald stared at the shadow, watching its -movements. For a moment he had a view of a face in profile, then of a -head bent down and an arm stretching out as if pulling a needle from a -piece of cloth. The girl no doubt was mending some clothes. - -"That's Fifi," said Fitzgerald in a whisper. His voice was husky and a -lump rose in his throat. "She's very graceful bending over her work.... -Damn it! I'm in love with her.... If not that, I have a great respect -for her ever since I saw her for the first time.... I suppose I have -been a gay Don Juan, but Fifi.... Well, I've never felt like this -before.... Probably I'm drunk and to-morrow.... But all to-day and -yesterday I felt the same.... I don't think I am drunk for I put the -bandage on with a firm hand.... If she would open the window and look -out only for a moment.... I want to see her; I must see her.... Suppose -she spoke to me and then told Snogger in the morning, told him that I -was hanging about her bedroom window all night, what would he say?... -Oh! damn Snogger, he's a fool.... I'll tap on the pane, anyway." - -Fitzgerald went up to the window, pressed his hand softly against the -pane, but drew it quickly away. - -"I can't," he muttered under his breath. "My God, why have I not more -courage ... a gay Don Juan.... But perhaps she'd do something awful, -throw a tin of water or.... A gay Don Juan," he repeated, in a louder -voice, and then added: "It doesn't matter. I'll let her know I'm here." - -He raised his hand and tapped lightly on the pane, then turned, walked -off for a distance of a few yards and stopped. Looking back he saw the -light turned down and heard the window open. The girl looked out into -the darkness. - -"Who is there?" she called in a low voice. "What do you want?" - -Moving quietly, Fitzgerald made his way back to the window again. The -girl could see him now and apparently recognised him. - -"English soldier, you should be asleep," she said, in a voice charged -with laughter. "Go away. What do you want?" - -"I want nothing," said Fitzgerald in a hoarse whisper. - -In the shadows he could see the outline of her face, which looked -strangely white. "I was up at the Café," he said. "Coming back I saw -the light, so I tapped.... Is it not time for you to be in bed?" - -"Listen to him!" said the girl, speaking in a whisper, and bringing her -face close to the man's. "Time to be in bed, indeed! What does it -matter to you when I go to bed? And I have work to do. You English -soldiers never work.... Go away!" - -"You are always working, Fifi," said Fitzgerald, without moving from -where he stood. - -"Always working," repeated the girl. "We are not like English girls; -they never work. They have too much money. But I must go to bed," she -said, making as though to shut the window. "Au revoir, English -soldier." - -"Not yet, not yet!" said Fitzgerald, speaking hurriedly. "I want to -speak to you." - -"What are you going to say?" asked the girl in a hesitating voice. - -Fitzgerald was silent. He had so much to say, but in reality he said -nothing at all. He merely coughed, unbuttoned the pockets of his tunic -and buttoned them up again. He looked at the girl, and her eyes -dropped. - -"What are you going to tell me?" she asked. - -"Nothing," Fitzgerald stammered. "I mean.... Au revoir, Fifi." - -He turned round and walked away. When he got to the corner, he heard -her calling. - -"English soldier, come back," she said in a loud whisper. - -Fitzgerald was back with her in an instant. - -"What is it, Fifi?" he asked. - -"Souvenir pour moi," she said, in a coaxing voice. "Jam, hat badges, -many souvenirs. Boots for my father in the trenches. Other soldiers -give me souvenirs often--but you--never. The sergeant gave me a big -knife. Also chocolate. His mother sent it to him from England. But you, -you never give me anything. Will you give me some souvenirs to-morrow?" - -"All right, I will, Fifi," said Fitzgerald. "Many souvenirs." - -"And I'll give you beer, café-au-lait, several things," said the girl, -pulling the window a little way towards her. "Au revoir, English -soldier." - -She held out her hand, the left, the nearer to her heart, and -Fitzgerald took hold of it. Fifi looked at him smiling. - -"Are you in love?" he asked. - -"No," said the girl. "Are you?" - -"No, certainly not," said Fitzgerald. "I never have been." - -"I don't believe you," said Fifi. "You English cannot be trusted. The -English girls are so well dressed." - -"Why don't you believe me?" asked Fitzgerald, pressing her hand, and -she made no effort to withdraw it. "I have never been in love; but now -... since I have met you ... I would do anything for you, Fifi. You are -the nicest girl...." - -He paused, conscience stricken, for his words seemed so futile. For a -moment he paused, and then a strange thing happened. In all his days -afterwards he could not account for it. How it took place was beyond -his understanding, but he had taken Fifi in his arms and kissed her. - -"Fifi, I love you," he said. "I'll do anything for you. After the war, -I'll marry you, come here and live, or take you to England--whatever -you desire.... Tell me that you care for me," he said, pressing her to -his breast. - -Fifi started back like a frightened fawn and pulled the window to. -Almost immediately she opened it again and looked out. - -"Go away, English soldier," she said, but there was no anger in her -voice. "You're drunk and you should be in bed." - -Fitzgerald hung around the place for quite an hour afterwards, hut Fifi -did not come to the window again. - -Early the next morning, after a sleepless night, he found himself in -the house of Josef Babette. The man himself was away at the war, his -wife and daughter were running the place during his absence. They had -only one servant, a relative of Madame Babette, an oldish man, lean and -twisted up, with his mouth almost hidden between nose and chin. But he -was a good worker; few could surpass him at his labour on the wet level -fields. Madame Babette was very industrious, she got out of bed every -morning at five and nine at night saw her finishing up the day's -labour. So from week to week, her toil went on all the year round. Only -on Sunday did she seek a moment's relaxation, then she went to church, -told her beads and prayed for her good man who was away in the trenches -fighting the battles of France. - -Fitzgerald was sitting near the stove, writing up his diary, a habit he -contracted at the beginning of the war and which he was still -religiously pursuing. Mother Babette was washing her dishes. She was a -thin, shrivelled woman of forty years of age, bent a little through -hard work but still untiring as an ant. - -An adventurous hen was picking up the crumbs under the chairs. Two -chickens, less daring than their older feathered friend, came in, -stalked gingerly up to their mate, seized each a crumb in their beaks -and ran off as fast as their red legs could carry them. - -Mother Babette finished her work, wiped the table, dusted the stove, -put the plates on the dresser and sat down. Fitzgerald continued -writing, but looked up now and again and took in with his eye the walls -blackened with smoke, the rafters festooned with spider webs, the -strings of onions hanging from the beams, the tall wooden clock beside -the dresser and the dog which lay under the table, wagging its tail and -shaking its ears as if trying to get rid of flies.... - -Then Fitzgerald's eyes were attracted by something else. Outside the -door Fifi was standing, throwing crumbs to the hens which clustered -round her feet. She was a well-built girl of eighteen with velvety -black eyes and a fascinating face. She wore a grey blouse and a striped -petticoat which reached a little lower than her knees, strong sabots -and a kerchief which was tied carelessly around her head. A prudent and -hard-working girl, she had already fed the pigs, foddered and milked -the cows, in addition to the hundred and one little things which must -be done every morning in a farmyard. She was in a good humour when she -entered the house, her white teeth and bright eyes were made for -laughter, and the girl's face generally wore a provokingly coquettish -expression. But behind it all lay hidden a reserve of restraint and -dignity which showed itself when the soldiers, speaking as soldiers -often speak, went too far with an indelicate jest. Fifi would look -steadily, with wide open eyes, at the speaker for a moment, then the -eyelids would slowly descend and the girl would rise to her feet and -proceed with her work. - -This morning, she went up to Fitzgerald where he sat beside the stove, -writing. - -"To your sweetheart?" she asked. - -The Irishman flushed crimson and closed the diary. - -"No, I have no sweetheart." - -"You haven't slept; you look tired," said Fifi. - -"I couldn't sleep. How could I, after last night?" - -What a fool he had been, he thought. Raving of love and marriage at the -café, then proposing marriage to Fifi. If Snogger and Bubb and Bowdy -knew all that had happened last night, what would they say? They would -never cease twitting him. And Fifi. What was she thinking of now? Of -the affair at the window, probably. He looked up at her. Her eyelids -dropped, but behind this shyness there was something impetuous and -passionate in the whole of her personality. And he had kissed her last -night. He had pressed those lips in one great kiss. But now she seemed -very far removed from him. And the souvenirs. The request of the night -before seemed so unworthy of the girl. - -"You couldn't sleep last night," said Fifi. "Why not?" - -"I was thinking of you, of all that took place." - -"But you were drunk?" - -"I was not. I remember all that happened. I have gathered up a lot of -souvenirs for you." - -"I don't want any," said the girl. "I was only joking." - -"But you must." - -"No, no. Have some coffee. Who are you writing to?" she asked. - -"Nobody," said Fitzgerald. "It's part of a diary." - -"Is that true?" - -"Yes, quite true." - -"Not writing to a woman in England?" said Fifi. "There was a soldier -here some time ago. He used to run after me. And I discovered that he -had a wife in England." - -"I have neither wife nor sweetheart," said Fitzgerald. "But if you, -Fifi.... I am serious, you know...." - -At that moment a French soldier came to the door, a man of about -forty-two. Over his shoulder he carried a kit-bag. Fifi and her mother -ran up to the man and embraced him. Josef Babette was back home on -leave, after seven months of war. He was a strong-muscled, well-built -man of medium size, a good soldier and diligent worker. He was a -well-to-do farmer, a respectable man, who was trusted by his neighbours -and bounden to none. He placed his kit away carefully in a corner, bade -good morning to Fitzgerald, and sat down. Fifi brewed a fresh pot of -coffee; Babette spoke about the war. He had just come from Souchez, and -it was a bad locality. He had never known a spot as bad. No peace day -or night. And as far as he could see the war would never come to an -end. - -He drank his coffee, got to his feet, and went outside. Fifi, whose -eyes were wet with tears of gladness, lifted the kitbag from the ground -and took it into the bedroom. - -"Where has your father gone?" Fitzgerald asked her when she returned. - -"Oh, he has gone out to work," she replied. - -"Things are behindhand on the farm. We have so little help." - -Fitzgerald went out into the farmyard. Josef Babette was harnessing a -cart-horse, his coat off and his shirt-sleeves thrust up over his -elbows. Sergeant Snogger was washing at the pump. - -"Ow're yer feelin' after last night?" he asked. - -"Not so bad, sergeant," Fitzgerald replied. - -"Been in seein' Fifi?" asked the sergeant. - -"I have," said Fitzgerald. "She's a splendid girl. I love her, and if -she'll have me after the war, I'll marry her. God! there's something -grand in her; too good for me. But I don't know what to make of her. -She won't trust me, thinks I'm married, or something like that. And I -love her, but she refuses to understand me. We are so far apart, -somehow." - -Snogger looked through his soapsuds at Fitzgerald, astonished at the -Irishman's burst of confidence. - -"There is nothing artificial about the girl," Fitzgerald continued. -"She is grand, so simple and original. She says what she thinks and is -far too childish to hide her thoughts. And I don't think she has much -of an opinion of us." - -"I don't think any of these 'ere French wenches care much for an -English Tommy," said Snogger. "They'll go a little way wiv 'em and then -they turn the deaf ear. I never was able to fool about wiv 'em. They're -more freer than English birds at first, but it's ''ands off' if you -want too much. They're all right if it's only cawfee and kisses, but -ye'll never get any further." - -Snoggers winked knowingly and laughed. Fitzgerald made his way into the -barn. - - - - - CHAPTER IV - - TO THE TRENCHES - - I knew a bird at 'Ammersmith and free or four at Bow, - But that was 'fore the war begun, a damned long time ago; - But I'm a blurry Tommy now and never lose a chance - When far away from dear old Smoke to kiss the girls o' France. - Never lose a chance, - Lead the dears a dance, - 'Twasn't bad at 'Ammersmith; God! It's fun in France! - - (_From "Forgotten Girls."_) - - -It was early morning; the soldiers billeted in Y---- Farm were rousing -themselves and making preparations for the march up towards the firing -line. It was now coming towards the Christmas season; the weather was -cold and rainy, the farmyard damp and muddy, and a haze rose over the -midden in the centre of the yard. Inside the farmhouse two officers -were sitting down at the only table eating a breakfast of bread, -butter, eggs and tea. - -The soldiers were in the barn preparing their early meal. The barn seen -in daylight was a cold, bleak, cheerless place, with a broken roof and -rough uneven floor. The men shivered as they toiled. They had slept in -the cold and felt frozen when they got up. A big fire had been lit in -the byre beneath; the smoke filled the whole place and stung the eyes -of the soldiers who worked at the cooking. - -Sergeant Snogger was superintending operations upstairs and fretting, -fuming and coughing. He was in a very bad temper, having lost a week's -wages at the gambling table the night before. - -"'Urry up, you men," he yelled. "I never seed as slummicky a crush in -my natural. Ye're slouchin' about same as if ye were in the trenches. -Come on Bowdy! Come on Fitz! Get a blurry move on, ye Spudhole! Ye're -dowsy, men, ye're dowsy! Ye must wake up. We're off from here in an -hour's time and we've a long march before us. We'll be in the trenches -for Christmas." - -"Where are we stopping to-night?" asked Fitzgerald, who was pouring tea -into a messtin of boiling water, brought up from the byre. - -"At the Ritz," said Snogger with fine irony. - -"I heard we were billeting at Vinant," someone remarked. - -"I thought we were bound for Bethune," Bowdy Benners said as he lifted -a rasher of bacon from the lid of his messtin. - -"You thought," spluttered Snogger. "Gawd Almighty, man, you're not paid -to think in the army! If you think too much you'll find yourself damned -unlucky. Anyhow, you'll find things hot in the trenches when you get -there this time, I'm telling you," he continued, lowering his voice. -"There's big things in the wind. We are going up by slow stages. I'm -glad that we're goin'. I don't like these rests; there's too much -damned work to do. Give me the trenches when I'm on the look-out for a -cushy time. It's better than 'ere." - -The sergeant took stock of the apartment with vigilant eyes. - -"Now this 'as to be swept out 'fore you go 'way," he said. "All -fag-ends, straw and everything 'as to be cleaned out." - -"Wot's the 'ell good o' cleaning this caboosh," growled Bubb. "It can't -be made clean." - -"It's got to be done," said Snogger, raising his eyebrows with the -decision of a verdict beyond appeal. "It's horders, and if horders -isn't obeyed ye'll find yourselves damned unlucky.... 'As anybody got a -fag to spare?" - -Somebody handed the sergeant a cigarette and he lit it. This seemed to -put him in a good humour and he began relating to Bowdy Benners the -story of his card-playing the night before. - -"Couldn't get a card," he said. "I was dead off all the night. Once I -got a top trotter, but Sergeant MacManus had a priol of deuces. I went -some money on my 'and that go. But it's as I've always said: 'When a -man's luck's out s'out, but when it's in s'in.'" - -The sergeant paused as if waiting for the full wisdom of his remark to -sink into Bowdy's brain. Then he shouted at the top of his voice, "Get -ready, men, get ready! We'll soon be movin' off," and went out to the -farmyard. - -Much work was yet to be done, rifles had to be cleaned, odds and ends -had to be collected from the straw. Here a knife and fork was found, -there an entrenching tool handle, a tin of bully beef, a towel and a -cake of soap. A great amount of stuff is lost in large barns; things -disappear mysteriously, lost in the straw or stolen, perhaps, by the -children of the billet. Soldiers treating themselves to meals at -village cafés often find themselves served up with bully beef in new -guise. - -Outside in the farmyard the fowls were standing on the smoking midden, -several of them scratching the dung with crooked claws in search of -worms. In the midst of the assembly, a rooster, proud as Lucifer, was -clucking amorously. Now and again he selected a gentle hen, walked -leisurely round her and strove to attract her attention. The hen would -fix a careless but coquettish look on him, stretch out a wing and stand -on one leg for a moment. Afterwards she would succumb and the -triumphant Sultan would stretch out his neck and crow a challenge to -any cock that dared to listen. - -At the hour of nine the battalion was ready to move off. The men were -in a good temper now and full of confidence. The every-day inspection -of equipment had been gone through, rifles had been examined and the -men's feet looked at. All were so cool that it was difficult to believe -that they were going up to the trenches, in which doubtless a number of -them would lay down their lives. Most of the soldiers carried big -French loaves on the back of their packs. The loaves had been holed -through the middle, a string was placed in the hole and tied to the -dees on the braces. - -Sergeant Snogger made a final inspection of his platoon. - -"'Ave yer everything?" he asked, then without waiting for an answer he -went on: "Course yer should 'ave everything. If ye 'aven't ye 'aven't -and that's all. Here, where the devil is Fitz?" he asked. - -"Forgot somethin' and 'e's gone into the barn," Bubb replied. - -"I see, I see," said Snogger, winking knowingly. "Fifi 'as gone in too, -to 'elp 'im look for what 'e's forgot." - -"'E's fair dotty on the bird," said Bubb. - -"But 'e's forgotten hisself," Snogger remarked. "If Captain Thorley -finds 'im missin' he'll be for it. Ah, 'ere 'e comes." - -Fitzgerald came out from the barn fully equipped and took his place in -the ranks. - -"Ye're just in time," said Snogger. "Another minute late and ye'd be -for it." - -Fitzgerald laughed awkwardly and cast a sheepish glance back at the -barn. Fifi was standing at the door, and Bubb vowed she was crying. - -"Fancy 'er cryin' cos you're goin' off, Fitz," he said. - -Fitzgerald did not reply. - -The company marched off, the men singing at the tops of their voices; -Spudhole, as was his wont, leading the singing. He was a most vivacious -youth, full of high spirits and good humour, fond of his fun and his -beer, and as vital at the end of a journey as at the beginning. - -Despite the distance which a regiment may travel, the soldier is as -circumscribed in his area as the spoke of a limber wheel. The space is -confined, and Spudhole Bubb was no less a prisoner on the march than he -had been in the guard-room. Always the same mates in front, the same -ruddy necks pressed sturdily back, the same red-brick hands swinging -across the khaki, the same entrenching tool handles waving backwards -and forwards, the same round loaves tied to the packs, the same -red-haired sergeant with the tops of his ears pressing tightly to his -head, the same platoon commander who now and again stood out from the -ranks and shouted the ancient words of command. "Get a step there, get -a step!" or "Cover off from the front" or some such order. Once in -every hour a whistle was blown and the whole battalion halted. The -Captain of a company would step out in front, halt, turn about and -shout at the top of his voice, "Ten minutes. Left of the road. Fall -out!" - -The men would loosen their equipment and throw themselves down -anywhere. Cigarettes would be lit, jokes passed, and rations taken out -of haversacks. A few would drink from their water bottles, sipping the -water carefully, for it was impossible to know when the next pump would -be reached. - -At the end of the fourth hour and the sixteenth fag (Spudhole computed -the length of a march by the number of fags he smoked on the route), -Fitzgerald, who had been silent for quite a long time, turned to -Benners and said: "You know, I had a damned strange dream last night. I -dreamt that I was up in the trenches fighting a big German who got in -my way somehow, and he ran his bayonet through my neck." - -"You may get killed this time," said Benners. - -"No, not this time," Fitzgerald replied. "I decided that by the cards -last night. 'Red: I come back safe; black: I don't' I said to myself, -cut the cards and turned up the ace of hearts. A good omen." - -"'Ear old Fitz!" muttered Spudhole, "'e's always pullin' our legs." - -"You don't understand, Spudhole," said Fitzgerald. "I'm damned -superstitious. Once I dreamt...." - -"One night I had a dream," Bubb interrupted. "Dreamt I was 'avin' a -feed at the S.P.O.[A] shop. Next day I was at the street corner a -dogger-on for flatties. As I was there a copper comes round the other -turnin' and flops into the banker school. 'Twasn't arf a barney. They -sets about 'im an' knocks 'im down and I gets 'is 'at and I kicks it -along the street. Didn't arf make a big 'ole in it either. But I was -unlucky, for two other coppers comes up and collars me. I was put in -the reformatory." - -[Footnote A: Sausage, potato and onion.] - -Sergeant Snogger detached himself from the ranks. - -"Oo's got a fag to give away?" he asked as Fitzgerald came up. - -"Here's one," said Fitzgerald, handing the sergeant a cigarette. - -"'Ave yer 'eard about the German as was captured about 'ere the other -day?" asked Snogger, marching by the side of Fitzgerald and lighting -the fag. "'E was got sleeping in a ruined cottage near the Café Belle -Vue. Dressed in khaki, with the badge of the A.S.C." - -"Good God! I must have met that man," said Fitzgerald, and told for the -first time the story of his adventure on the night of his return from -the Café. - -He told the story in full, frequently interrupting himself and going -back in the narrative to present a detail which he had forgotten. When -he had finished he looked at Snogger, who had listened very -attentively, and suddenly realised that the sergeant did not believe -him. To be sure, Fitzgerald had wandered away a little from the -absolute truth, and the story of his own behaviour had lost nothing in -the telling. A sarcastic smile showed on Snogger's lips and Fitzgerald -suddenly wished that the narrative had never been told. - -"Damned good, or in French, tray bon!" said the sergeant in a drawling -voice. "Blurry fine story. That A.S.C. bloke told me all about it. 'E -was one of our own men, too, not an A.S.C. at all. You don't know the -feller. 'E's in another company. But 'e's allus up to a joke. We -planned it all out in the Café after old Fatty 'ad told that cock and -bull story about the Germans breakin' through. The A.S.C. man was to -wait for you on the road outside. Wasn't that the ticket, Spudhole?" - -"That was 'ow we planned it out," said Bubb. - -Fitzgerald puffed his cigarette viciously and his face was crimson. For -a moment he was silent, then he spoke, turning to Bubb. - -"I cannot follow your remark, Bubb," he said in a slow voice. "The -crash of your falling aitches drowns all other sounds. You should take -a lesson in pronunciation from Sergeant Snogger. If you listen to him -when he orders the 'wear wanks to wipe their wifles wiv woily wags,' -you can't fail to become a master of English as it is spoken." - -The sergeant blushed red as a beetroot. His imperfections in speaking -were a great eyesore to the man, and only once before had he been -twitted about the matter. Then thick ears and black eyes were kept as -mementoes of the occasion. - -But now he could say nothing; he had given Fitzgerald sufficient -provocation to warrant the jibe. Without another word he went back to -the head of his platoon. Fitzgerald relapsed into silence and the march -went on. - -At one o'clock came the order "Halt! Left of the road! Fall out!" And -the men sank down wearily. Their packs were very heavy and their weight -seemed to increase at every yard, justifying the soldiers' proverb: an -ounce at the start is a pound at the finish. - -"Blimey, I don't know why we carry all this 'ere clobber about wiv us," -Spudhole muttered, leaning back on his pack and stretching out his legs -to their fullest extent. "Ballyclavvy 'elmet, trench 'elmet, gas 'elmet -and cap," he enumerated. "Bay'net, 'ipe, trenchin' tool, munition -(unner and eighty rounds), 'ousewife, 'oldall, ground sheet, messtin, -razor, soap, comb, towel, paybook, clasp knife, iron rashuns, knife, -fork and spoon, a bottle of water, a tin of condensed milk, a tin of -café-o-lay, chocolate, matches and a box o' fags...." - -"I'll carry yer fags for you if you like," said Bowdy Benners. - -"Will yer?" muttered Bubb. "I've lost things that way 'fore now." - -"There are a lot of things which you haven't mentioned yet," Fitzgerald -remarked. "There's the first field dressing, the loaf, your overcoat -and spare shirt, pants, socks and vest. By the way, what are we -stopping here for?" he asked. "There's no sign of dinner as far as I -can see." - -"You're damned unlucky about dinner," said Snogger, coming up at that -moment. "There's no dinner, not yet for a while, anyhow. We're going -away from 'ere by buses soon as they come along." - -"Where to?" asked Bowdy Benners. - -"'Ome," Snogger answered sarcastically. "'Ome to the trenches. Big -doins up there, I s'pose." - -"It's like the blurry Army," Bubb remarked with an air of finality. -"Turnin' us out to fight when we're just ready for a bit o' grub. I -never could 'old with this 'ere war. Look, there they come, curse 'em!" - -An omnibus came in sight, then a second, a third; coming from a village -through which the battalion had just passed. As the vehicles drew up -the spirits of the soldiers seemed to rise, jokes were passed with the -drivers, mock enquiries were made and jesting answers were given: "Is -this the bus for Wandsworth?" "Not this one--next along this way, No. -32." "Fares, please." "Full inside; room for two on top," etc. - -The soldiers got on to the buses, which set off hurriedly when all were -aboard. Nobody seemed to know where the battalion was bound for, but -all anticipated big things ahead. The soldiers' hearts vibrated with a -strange expectant thrill--something great was going to happen. Where? -When? The men asked one another, but none could answer the questions. -They stood on the threshold of great events; children outside the door -of a chamber of mysteries. - - - - - CHAPTER V - - MARCHING - - The good French girls will cook brown loaves above the oven fire, - And while they do the daily toil of barn and bench and byre, - They'll think of hearty fellows gone and sigh for them in vain-- - The billet boys, the London lads who won't return again. - - (_From "Soldier Songs."_) - - -The men moved wearily, grunting and stumbling, their uniforms muddy and -dirty, their rifles held at all angles. Now and again one would stand -still for a moment, look round, readjust his equipment braces and -continue marching. On all faces was a sluggish indifferent look: the -march from Y---- Farm had begun centuries ago and would never end. They -kept walking and walking, drowsily heedless of all that went on around -them. - -Although midwinter the day had seemed very close, the night seemed -closer still. The men sweated as they marched. The silence was -profound, hopeless and oppressive. The crunching boots were part of the -eternal monotonous silence; when the column halted the cessation of -movement came like a blow and almost stunned them as they stood. Where -was the battalion going to? Nobody seemed to know and nobody cared now. -Weariness had killed the men's curiosity. - -Sergeant Snogger came along on the right flank of his company during -one of these stoppages; his feet moving ponderously, his back crooked -like an old man's. - -"What's up?" somebody asked. - -"Feel to the left or you'll be damned unlucky," he said. -"Reinforcements!" - -His voice was almost incoherent and his tones were charged with -impatience. - -Dark bulks took shape on their right, creaked and thundered for a -moment, then vanished. - -"Reinforcements!" someone muttered, and added: "On buses, London buses. -Same as we came on t'other day. And we've been marching nearly all the -time since then!" - -Again the living body crawled forward step by step. Bubb leant forward -on Fitzgerald's arm, fell asleep but still continued his march. Fitz -could feel Bubb's hand on his own; it was soft and warm but very heavy. -He tried to shake it off but it clung tighter.... Why was it done to -him? The Irishman was not conscious of having done any wrong. But to -press his hand with pincers and crush him down with a steam hammer--it -was too much.... He was falling through space with a monstrous load on -his shoulders. Down, down, ever so far down and no bottom. The fall was -endless. A branch of a tree stretched out towards his hand and he -strove to grip it. It evaded him and he still fell.... Fitzgerald -suddenly bounced into conscious life to see figures moving forward -right in front of him. Then he knew that he was still marching, -marching up to battle. "What battle?" he asked himself, and then became -annoyed at his own curiosity. "I don't know," he muttered. "What the -hell does it matter, anyway?" - -"Are you sleepy?" asked Bubb, who had woke up. - -"No," the Irishman answered unconcernedly. "Please take your hand away! -Take it away at once." - -Bubb paid no heed but his hand gripped tighter still. Fitz tried to -shake it off, but the effort was monstrously futile. But what did it -matter? He was living in a confused and muddled nightmare and his mind -was a great vacant chamber filled with spectres more impalpable than -air. - -"The lights!" somebody said. "Look at them!" - -The starshells seemed very near, blazing in the heavens, green, red and -white. The green was restful to look upon, the white hard and cold; the -red starshells were lurid wounds dripping with blood. Fitz shuddered -and his eyes sought the ground again.... - - * * * * * - -"On the left of the road, fall out!" - -The command was given in a weak voice and the men dropped down on the -withered grass. It was now almost dawn; the ambulance waggons were -tearing along the road and the wounded could be heard groaning and -cursing as the vehicles were jolted from side to side on the cobbled -way. - -The battle to which the London Boys were going was at an end now. The -soldiers were dimly conscious of this but all were indifferent to the -result of the conflict.... Most of the men were already asleep. A cold -breeze was blowing and high up in the air the starshells were still -blazing merrily over the firing line.... Soldiers came tottering back -from battle in platoons, in squads, in pairs. They were all war-worn -and dejected, they straggled by, their heads sunk on their breasts. Now -and again the men spoke to them, but they seldom made answer and when -they replied their answers were ever the same. - -"The Boche attacked," they said. "Christ! he didn't half send some -stuff across 'fore he came over. We chased him back. But 'twas a -fight." - -Fitzgerald lay close to the earth and he could smell the moist clay and -dead grass. It was very cold too. He turned over on his side and -stretched out his legs to their full extent. It was now on the fringe -of dawn.... - -The earth grew pale and objects in the near distance took on definite -form.... - -Fitzgerald woke with a start and got to his feet. He had been asleep -for a few minutes only. His mates were buckling their belts and -grumbling at their lot. What was going to happen now? Going back again -and all that damned trek for nothing. Not one of them could march -another hundred yards.... - -"We're not going far back," Snogger said. "Just a mile or so and we'll -billet at a village. Then you can all 'ave a kip. That's if ye're -lucky." - -"And the attack?" Fitz asked. "Was it beaten off?" - -"Yes," said the sergeant. "The Germans got as far as our trench and -there they stopped; some of them for good. We're lucky we weren't in -it, I'm thinking.... Come on, boys, and pull yourselves together," he -shouted. "We've got to get out of this before it gets too clear. It'll -soon be broad daylight, and we'll be damned unlucky if we're 'ere -then." - -Wounded men who were able to walk straggled along the road. When they -fell they fell silently and got up mutely. But many fell and did not -rise. - -The men were well on their way when dawn broke, and the rim of the sky -flushed crimson. Dead mules lay on the cobbled ways, torn with ghastly -wounds; drivers in khaki, helplessly impotent, lay huddled amidst their -broken limbers. The roadway was gutted by shells and the poplars that -lined the path were scarred and peeled by many a projectile. Behind, -the shells were bursting and the sound of explosions quivered through -the crisp clear air. - -If the men looked back they could see the hills behind, rising out of -the dawn, the white mists in the Zouave valley--the valley of Death, -the Cabaret Rouge, the inn on the Souchez Road, and Souchez itself -which is now a heap of powdered dust. War had rent and riven many a -village but Souchez it had powdered to dust. Not the fragment of a -single wall remained standing and not a whole brick remained of the -village of Souchez. - -Higher than any of the hills of Lorrette rose "The Pimple," the highest -peak in the district. From the top mile after mile of the surrounding -country was visible--woods, roads, towns, villages and canals. The -French were supposed to be holding it. - -Sergeant Snogger, who had been marching in front, came back and kept in -step with Bowdy Benners and his mates. - -"The French lost 'The Pimple' last night," he said. "There were two -thousand 'oldin' the place and the Germans turned every damned gun -they'd got on it. Blew it to blazes, they did. Not one Frenchman came -back; and they say none was taken prisoners. They were damned unlucky." - -Half-an-hour's march brought the men to a little village, broken, -ruined, untenanted. There they halted while the officers inspected the -cellars, seeking shelter where their men might sleep. Snogger's friends -were lucky and found a cellar, the floor of which was littered with -hay, and here they lay down, but not before they lit a candle to -frighten the rats away. Holding himself erect, Snogger tried to -unbuckle his equipment, but his fingers were unable to perform the -task. "Damn it!" he shouted in a petulant voice and collapsed in a heap -on the straw where he lay crumpled up. He might have been hit in the -head by a bullet so sudden was his fall. - -The men lay near the bottom of the cellar stairs; the apartment lost -itself in unfathomable corners, and there the rats were scurrying -backwards and forwards. Bowdy was just dropping off to sleep when a -hoarse sepulchral yell echoed through the cellar and a strange -unearthly figure rushed into the circle of candle-light, waving his -arms in the air and shouting in a strange incoherent voice. The men -were looking at a French soldier. - -He came to a halt at the foot of the stairs; his eyelids slowly opened, -the eyes took in the apartment--the dim candle, the forms lying on the -floor. - -"Who are you?" he asked in a steady voice. Then as if collecting his -scattered wits he muttered: "You are billeted here. I have just come -down from the 'Pimple'.... I'm the only man left.... Who has a drop of -water to spare?" - -Thus did Fitzgerald, who woke up, translate the man's remarks. Bowdy -gave him a drink of water. He lay down again in one of the men's -overcoats and was soon asleep. As the men dozed off one by one the rats -drew closer, peering curiously out from the darkness of the remote -corners of the cellar.... Fitzgerald fell asleep to awake suddenly with -a start. A rat had run over his face. - -"The damned pests," he muttered getting to his feet. "I can't stand -them. I'll get outside and sleep on the ground. God! it's strange how a -little thing like a rat disturbs me," he muttered. - -He went outside, lay down on the cobbles and slept the sleep of a weary -man. - -In the evening the battalion marched away from the neighbourhood of -Souchez and entered the Loos Salient just in time for the Christmas -season. - - - - - CHAPTER VI - - CHRISTMAS EVE - - The sergeant's water bottle's full, - But it is strange to see - The sergeant on the 'ear'ole for - Some water for his tea. - But ain't it strange when night is on - And we are out o' sight, - The sergeant takes his bottle out - And swigs from it all night - Cold water-- - Co-o-old water-- - Co-o, o-o, o-o, o-o, co-o-old water. - - (_From "The Lost Rum Ration."_) - - -It was about seven o'clock in the evening and an unusual silence -brooded over the Loos Salient. In the trenches the silence always -broods; the soldiers, not knowing what the moment may bring forth, are -uneasy; and the eternal hidden menace of the Unknown is intensified by -the stillness. The evening was intensely dark; black, impenetrable -shadows bulked in the trenches and became the colour of the parapet, -parados and bay. Objects quite near at hand took on strange fantastic -shapes and looked like men lying asleep on the firesteps; only a closer -examination would show that the phantoms were sandbags or ammunition -boxes. Many of the boys were smoking; the lighted cigarettes glowed -like rubies set in an illimitable spread of ebony. - -It was raining; a soft, almost caressing rain dropped sleekly and -helplessly down on the firing line. In this manner it had been falling -for hours; the trenches were filled to the firestep with slush and -muck; the duck-boards were afloat, and men changing their position in -the trench clambered out over the top and walked along the reverse -slope of the parapet. Now and again a wayfarer stuck in the clinging -quicksand of the trench floor, only to free himself when he succeeded -in climbing out of his Wellington boots. - -Fitzgerald sat down on the firestep and sank into the soft mud. So -complete was the stillness that he could distinctly hear all the varied -sounds of the night mingling together in a long-drawn, slumberous -murmur. The far-off death lullaby of a heavy shell, the soft, quivering -croon of the damp wind, the sough of a boot as a soldier walked along -the trench; the vague murmurings from a near dug-out, the enervating -sizzle of falling rain, and the varied, indefinable night movements of -Nature blended sleepily together in a slumber that made for nightmares -and fevered dreams. - -Fitzgerald dozed off, only to wake in an instant by hearing voices -speaking very close to him. - -"Spudhole, my rifle is full of dirt; half a sandbag of chalk has gone -down the barrel," said the voice of Bowdy Benners. - -"Mine is full up o' muck, too," said Spudhole. There was an -indifference in his tones. He seemed to have lost all interest in his -best friend, his "'ipe." - -"I don't care a damn," he muttered. "A nipe's only made to be cleaned -in this 'ere war as far as I can see." - -"When is the rum coming up?" Bowdy enquired. "Probably we'll get none -to-night." - -"'S'up," said Bubb, "round the next bay in the dug-out." - -"Well, I'm off," said Bowdy. "I'm half frozen. I'm for a good tot if -it's going.... By the way," he asked, as if it had suddenly occurred to -him, "how many of our fellows were blown up by the mine this morning?" - -"Seven or eight," said Bubb, "or maybe more." - -"And to think that to-night's Christmas Eve," said Benners, as if the -conversation had forcibly reminded him of the fact. - -The two men clambered over the top and made their way towards the -dug-out from which the rum was issued. - -Fitzgerald got up and followed. - -As he crawled over the sandbags a starshell rose into the darkness and -lit the scene of war. The country showed wet and livid, the barbed wire -entanglements wound crookedly along the levels. The wires stretched out -waiting for their prey with threatening barbs. - -In the brooding silence and the locality of war, Hate and Vengeance -persisted, and were well in keeping with the ominous night, and here it -seemed they found their most direct expression. Fitzgerald looked -around, and queer, fragmentary thoughts rioted in his head. He -remembered a verse of a song which he had once heard, and repeated it -aloud. - - "Here comes I, Jack Straw; - Such a man you never saw; - Through a rock, through a reel, - Through an old spinning-wheel, - Through a mill hopper, through a bag of pepper; - Sheep shanks, chicken bone-- - Give me a kiss or leave me alone." - -"What has put this nonsense into my mind?" he asked himself. "Probably -it is because it is part of a Christmas carol.... And this is Christmas -eve.... Two thousand years gone by and the message of the Prince of -Peace not made manifest yet.... Well, I wonder if the rum is -waiting...?" - -He made his way into the trench again, and came in sight of the -dug-out, with its candle lit in a niche of the chalky wall, and its -huddled occupants lying on the floor. A few, no doubt, were asleep. Two -or three were sitting, their backs against the chalk, their heads bent -down almost between their knees. All were dressed in sheepskin coats, -khaki trousers and high boots, and wore full equipment, their cartridge -pouches being well stocked with ammunition. Although a bank of earth -was heaped up on the doorstep, it did not prevent the water from -dripping inside. The floor of the dug-out was as mucky as the floor of -the trench. Stooping down, Fitzgerald crawled in through the narrow -door of the shelter. - -Bubb was already inside, scraping the muck from his boots with a clasp -knife. Behind him, with his back against the wall, sat Bowdy Benners, -cutting a lump of cheese into small portions. - -The cheese was a big item of the Christmas Eve rations. - -He was sitting down now, his head thrust forward, his big hands busy -with the cheese. As Fitzgerald entered he looked up, then glanced round -the dug-out. - -"Not much grub to-night, boys," he said. "Four biscuits, a half a tin -of bully and a piece of cheese for each man." - -"And the rum?" asked Bubb, forestalling every man with the question. - -"It's here all right," said Bowdy. - -They stared open-mouthed for a full second, then a roar of delight -echoed through the dug-out and the sleepers awoke. Bubb rose to his -feet, whirled his clasp knife round his hand, endeavoured to dance a -jig, and only stopped when his head came in forcible contact with the -roof for the third time. Fitzgerald chuckled; a glow of satisfaction -lit up his handsome face, and his eyes rested lovingly on the sandbag -which stood in an angle of the wall near the door. Then he lay back, -rested his head on the wall and stared at the candle. In that position -he looked a very charming boy, and he knew it. In civil life he must -have been very fond of society, the company of notable people, and -above all of pretty women. - -Again he looked at the sandbag in the angle of the wall, but his eyes -were not the only ones fixed on that object. And no wonder: the sandbag -contained the rum jar. - -"Well, wot about a tot?" asked Bubb. - -Bowdy rose and took the sandbag into the middle of the room, where he -uncovered the precious jar and filled a mess-tin of liquor. He handed -the tin to Bubb. - -"Cheero!" said the Cockney, and drank. He passed the tin round and -wiped his lips. "There's some guts in rum," he muttered, and his voice -was full of emotion. "Gawd! it doesn't 'arf warm up the inside of a -bloke. Now, wot about a Christmas dinner?" he continued. "Bully ain't -wot one would call très bon, is it? Christmas dinner of bully beef! -Gor'blimey! that's no blurry good!" - -"It's a funny thing that a full belly always is associated with -happiness," said Fitzgerald, shaking his head and laughing loudly. Rum -went easily to his head. "If a man gets married, he feeds well, and if -a child is born to him, he stuffs himself with viands. It's always his -belly." - -"Always," said Bubb, reaching a second time for the mess-tin. - -"It doesn't matter what Fitz says," remarked Bowdy Benners, sinking his -chin into the collar of his sheepskin coat. "What I say is this: We -must have a Christmas dinner to-morrow." - -"How can we get one?" Fitz enquired. - -"Easy enough that," said Bowdy. "I know an old woman of the Café -Calomphie. A parcel of good things could be got there for a few francs. -I could go down to Les Brebis in an hour." - -"But they're shelling the road," Fitzgerald remarked. "Blowing holes in -it, and the houses are flying about the streets. Not only that, but -you're not supposed to go away from here. And again, all shops are -closed at nine o'clock. It's well past eight now...." - -"But that doesn't matter," said Bowdy. "The woman of the café is a -great friend of mine." - -"Ye're a sly old dawg, Bowdy," said Bubb. "No one 'ud fink that to look -at yer." - -Bowdy went red in the face, and proceeded to buckle his equipment, his -hands trembling a little over the job. - -"We'll have a collection, anyhow," said Fitzgerald, and he flung a coin -into his mess-tin. Several coins followed, and in the end the -magnificent sum of twelve francs fifty was collected. - -Bowdy put the money in his pocket, took a last long-drawn pull at his -cigarette, and went outside. - -"I'll be back again in no time," were his final words. - -The men turned their attention to the rum jar again; tongues were -loosened and stories of past Christmases went round the dug-out. Bubb, -strong on the traditions of the regiment, told the story of the -Brigadier's kit inspection at St. Albans the Christmas previous. - -"The 'ole Brig come round when 'e was inspectin' us, and 'e looked at -my pack," said Bubb. "'That's the neatest pack I've seed in the 'ole -battalion,' says the Brig. ''Ave yer got everything that's laid down in -orders in that 'ere pack?' 'e says to me. 'Everything,' I sez. 'I know -that the contents of a nice pack is always nice and clean,' 'e says. -'I'll just 'ave a look at yer pack. Take it off and take out everything -and lay them out,' 'e says. Gor' blimey! I did wot 'e ordered me, an' -my bloomin' pack was full of straw. 'Twas lighter to carry than the -or'nary caboosh. Fourteen days' spudhole," Bubb concluded. - -Fitzgerald was singing a song and waving an empty mess-tin over his -head. The song was one of his own making, a Rabelaisian production with -a snappy chorus. All joined in and drank in turn. Suddenly they heard -the dull rumble of approaching shells and the loud explosions of the -missiles in the fields outside. Fitzgerald lit a cigarette and finished -a chorus. - -"They're strafing again," he said. "The damned pastime will never come -to an end." - - - - - CHAPTER VII - - CHRISTMAS DAY - - Blurry well freezin' and cold as sin, - Christmas Day in the mornin'; - The big guns welcome the Saviour in, - Christmas Day in the mornin'; - Used to have fingers and used to have toes, - Used to have ears as well as a nose, - But now I don't think that I've any of those - Christmas Day in the mornin'. - - Wish we was safe in a stall to-day, - Christmas Day in the mornin'; - Watching the cattle munchin' their hay, - Christmas Day in the mornin'; - The Prince of Peace was born, we're told, - Snug in a stall in the days of old; - Lord, look down on us 'ere in the cold, - On Christmas Day in the mornin'. - - (_From "Carols of Good Will."_) - - -The dawn was at hand, the dawn of Christmas Day. Fitzgerald was -standing on the firestep looking over No Man's Land towards the enemy's -trenches. It was his hour on sentry-go. The rain was still falling, and -his hands and feet felt very cold, but he was powerless to restore any -warmth to his body by moving about. To leave the firestep for a moment -was dangerous. He knew that if he stuck in the mud of the trench he -could not extricate himself, for he felt utterly worn out. He had been -warm enough when he went on watch owing to the rum which he had drunk, -but now he was shivering as if his whole being had been stricken with -ague. He tried to warm his legs by striking one against the other, but -his feet felt so heavy that he desisted after two or three ineffectual -endeavours to release them from the mud. The slightest movement was a -monstrous futility, and now that it had become so difficult to move he -did not want to remain still, and he had the greatest desire in the -world to be free-footed and doing something. - -The Germans were shelling the sector on the right, and the chill, wet -morning was lit up by the lurid flashes of bursting explosives. The air -was full of the rumbling and crashing of the conflict; shells sped -across the trench, careering towards some distant objective, probably -the village, where old Bowdy was routing out the essentials for a -Christmas dinner. And Bowdy had not returned yet; some nine hours had -gone by since he departed on his mission. - -"Probably he has got blown to pieces," Fitzgerald muttered. "Poor old -Bowdy." - -Then he passed, without further thought of Bowdy, to memories which -came into his head at random. He thought of his home, away up a little -glen in Galway, of the neighbours there, of Doalty Fadhan, the great -gambler, who always won when he turned his coat outside in, of Eamon -Hudagh, who got drunk at Glenagh Fair and lost his clothes somewhere at -night; in the morning he came across the hills in a red flannel -petticoat; of Paddy Brogan who cleared out the same fair with a stone -in the foot of a woman's stocking. "I wish I was in Glenagh now," -Fitzgerald said. "A good turf fire, a bit and a sup and the neighbours -coming in for the night's raking." Then all these memories and desires -floated together and jumbled themselves up in his head, and he fell -asleep. He was awakened by a feeling that everything was not as it -should be. For the unusual there was only one place to look, out on his -front, and his eyes were already fixed on the grey, formless level -which lay between his trench and the enemy's. Nothing changed there, -everything just.... Then Fitzgerald saw a huge bulk take shape on his -right front, twenty yards from the trench and fifty yards away from the -spot where he stood. The bulk rose upright, like a gigantic monster of -some pre-Adamite age, paused for a second as if considering something, -then it burst in twain, and Fitzgerald flopped down into the mucky -trench, half blinded and deafened by the flash and thunder of the -exploding mine. - -The earth had vomited its entrails out, a million rocks rioted through -the air and ricochetted off the parapet; the dawn was thick with flying -rubbish, the greater part of which seemed to be falling into the -trench, dropping with a sickly splosh into the muck. The world was -falling down around the ears of the Irishman. - -"Out and man the mine crater!" - -The order came along the trench like a half strangled whisper. -Fitzgerald rose from the muck and spluttered the message along to the -next bay, then gripped his rifle and clambered up and across the -parapet. - -Most of the men were already out and rushing towards the crater of the -mine. Fitzgerald had a vivid impression of flying figures in sheepskin -coats, of rifles in air, of bursting shells, of men stumbling, falling -and rising, of hoarse-voiced oaths and imprecations, of queries and -answers. "Not our mine, is it?" "I thought we were too far apart." "Are -we to get into the blurry 'ole 'fore the gas clears away?" were a few -of the remarks which came to his ears. - -A corporal halted near him and shouted something about the risk the men -were running. "We'll be poisoned by the fumes in the crater," he said. -"We're coming across too soon. Far too soon," he muttered; "far too -blurry soon!" - -But no one paid any heed. To stop on the open was dangerous, and the -Germans were out already. They could be seen, dark figures breaking -through the enemy's barbed wire entanglements. Presently they would be -engaged with the British in a hand-to-hand encounter for the possession -of the crater. - -Fitzgerald reached the rim of the hole and stood there for a moment -looking down. Heavy coils of thick smoke wound snake-like along the -bottom, where the black earth was illumined by ghastly phosphorescent -lights that trailed up the sides in thin sluggish streaks. A few -soldiers were already going down into the place and halting from time -to time, taking stock of the scene before them. All were spluttering -and coughing, and a few had pulled their gas helmets down over their -heads and faces. "This is no blurry bean-fast, I can tell yer," -Spudhole muttered as he tried to clamber back, crawling with difficulty -almost knee-deep in the rubble. As he moved the clay shot away from -beneath him, and he found himself in the unenviable plight of being -able to advance a foot, only to find himself slipping back a yard. - -The enemy shelled with unceasing persistency, and men were getting -struck on the rim of the crater. Anywhere was better than where they -were standing--they flopped into the crater, making futile efforts to -save themselves, from rolling to the bottom, by clawing at the clay of -the sides. Once down, however, they found to their relief that -breathing was easier than they had anticipated. - -"What now?" somebody enquired, looking vaguely round. - -"What indeed? What's to be done?" - -"We'll get killed like blurry rats down 'ere.... The Alleymongs are -coming over in droves...." - -"It's better to fight them on the top than to let them stone us to -death down here." - -Sergeant Snogger, in a sheepskin coat, which was freshly ripped across -the shoulder by a bullet or shell splinter, rolled down the side of the -crater and landed at the bottom. In a moment he was on his feet. - -"Up to the top, boys!" he cried. "Don't stand here arguing like -fishwives. Up to the top or you'll be damned unlucky." - -Immediately the men were crawling up like ants, but with extreme -difficulty. Their heavy boots, their equipments and rifles impeded -their movements, each man was a khaki-clad Sisyphus, battling against -an incline such as the patient Sisyphus never experienced. The men, -grunting and swearing, seemed to be making no headway, the scaling of -the craterside, about sixty feet in depth, was a Herculean task for men -strong of wind and limb, for them it was a task of despair. - -"We'll never get there," Bubb grunted. Then his eyes sought the top. -"Gor' blimey!" he muttered, "there they come." - -A man, dressed in German uniform, stood on the rim of the crater, a -rifle in his hand, and looked down. As the soldiers watched, he raised -his rifle to his shoulder and pointed it at the crush in the bottom of -the crater. - -The movement was his last. Bowdy Benners arrived at that moment, -dressed in full marching order, his rifle in his hand and the bayonet -fixed. The "point" was delivered at the shoulder, and Benners' long -arms put all the zest of a strong body into the movement. The German -came clean over the rim of the crater and rolled down to the bottom, -clawing at the air with frenzied fingers. - -Bowdy lay down at the top, and his rifle became active. Round after -round sped across the open towards the foe, who were now coming up in -bulk and getting very close to the crater. - -"Keep it up, Bowdy!" cried Snogger. "Are they near?" - -"They're not far away," said Bowdy without looking round. "Devil blow -me blind, they'll be here in a second if you don't come up and give me -a hand.... Ha! They've stopped now, a shell has caught a couple." - -"All right, Bowdy, we're here," the sergeant shouted reaching the -summit. - -The main body of Germans, advancing in open order, was still some fifty -yards away. As far as could be ascertained at the moment, the delay -(they should have been across the open three minutes ago) was due to a -heavy curtain fire which had greeted them just as they came out of -their trenches. The fire caught them at the barbed wire entanglements, -concussion shells tore up the wires and swept them around the bodies of -the attackers, and the impartial shrapnel rained viciously down on the -huddled heaps of wounded. - -The quick were advancing, a dispirited party of men, in open order, -glad to get away from their own trenches, which were suffering cruel -chastisement. Some were willing to fight even yet; five or six had -flung themselves down on the ground and trained their rifles on the -British positions, opening a wild erratic fire of slight intensity. -Cold hands never hold a rifle steady on a Christmas morning. - -The men in the crater lay down behind the parapet which the exploding -mine had formed and opened fire with deadly effect. - -"That'll knock the blurry stuffin' out o' them," Spudhole remarked. -"There they come now, their 'ands up in the air." It was even as he -remarked. The advanced line of Germans put their timorous hands over -their heads and stepped diffidently towards the mine. "Kamerad! -Kamerad!" they whined, their arms shaking as if stricken with palsy. -The snipers threw their rifles away and joined in with their mates. All -were sick of the job. - -"Take them prisoners," said Sergeant Snogger. "There's nothing else to -be done." - -An hour later when the wounded had been carried back to the trench and -the prisoners were marched off to the village at the rear, the victors -were left to themselves, in undisputed possession of their hard-won -crater. - -The Christmas morning scene was one never to be forgotten: the -rain-swept crater, the crumbling clay, the fumes of gunpowder, the dead -bodies, the monotonous hum of ragtime choruses, the shells bursting -across the top, the dirty rifles and the dirtier men who endeavoured to -clean them. Bowdy Benners was there with a full pack and a bulging -haversack. Fitzgerald and Spudhole were deep in a discussion on some -nonsensical subject; but the discussion served its object, it brought -the men's minds away from the stark reality of their surroundings. -Snogger sitting on his haunches, was giving details of the fight to his -platoon commander, Captain Thorley. - -Bubb drew up towards Bowdy and asked him for a drink from his -water-bottle. Benners handed it to him with a solemn look. Spudhole -drank. - -"Good?" asked Bowdy. - -"Wonderful stuff," said Spudhole. - -"Hand it round," said Bowdy. - -All drank from the water bottle in turn, and each man winked knowingly -when he drank. None of the men had expected any rum that morning, the -rations of the night before had been so short; the limbers met with a -mishap when coming up to the Vallé Dump. Of course, all were aware that -Bowdy had come into possession of the rum by illegitimate means. -However, no enquiries were made. - -"Now what about a smoke before dinner?" Bubb remarked, fixing a knowing -glance on Bowdy. "'As anybody got a fag to spare? Many a pore bloke 'as -'gone West' since I 'ad my last fag." - -Fitzgerald fumbled about in his haversack and found a box, a little tin -box, lying snug and dry amidst a crush of papers and broken biscuits. -Some fifty cigarettes were enclosed within. He handed them round. - -They lit them up. The drink and the smoke exercised a cheering effect -upon the men. A look of pleasure stole over every face and the men -burst into uncontrollable fits of laughter when Spudhole, standing on a -platform of clay, placed his arms akimbo and wished all a merry -Christmas. "If we 'ave to spend the day 'ere, we must spend it 'ere, we -must stick it 'ere, and there's no more to be said," he laughed. "We'll -get relieved to-night," he added; "that's if we're lucky." - -"Suppose we build a dug-out and light a fire," said Snogger. "There's -'arf-a-dozen poles standin' over the top; we've got waterproof sheets, -trenchin' tools and good chalk to work in." - -Drawing their tools from their equipment, the men set to labour with -zeal, hollowed out a shelter in the chalk, roofed it over and lit a -fire. The latter was the most difficult feat, and several entrenching -tool handles had to be cut into thin spales and placed over the flames -before the fire burned properly. - -"Devil blow me blind if that's not very clever," said Bowdy Benners -when the flames were dancing merrily against the wall of the dugout. -"It almost puts me in mind of Christmas away in Blighty. Now we'll see -what we've in hand for a meal for our Christmas dinner. I'll look in my -pack." - -He opened his pack and took out the treasures, which he piled against -the wall of the dug-out. The pack contained three large loaves, cut -into thick chunks, eight tins of sardines, a tin of condensed -café-au-lait, two bottles of champagne and several slabs of Menier's -chocolate. The bulging haversack was another treasure wallet; it -contained apples and pastry in abundance, also a tin of lard, which -would presently be used for frying bully beef. - -During all the morning the artillery fire had not wholly slackened, but -now a quiet moment held the line. Dinner was prepared. First the men -made tea, using the water from their water-bottles and boiling it in -mess-tins over the fire. Then they cooked their bully beef on the -mess-tin lids and cut the bread into nice thin slices. It was -Fitzgerald who proposed that all slices should be thin, and none -gainsaid his whim. The first course consisted of sardines and bread; -the second course of bread and fried bully. Tea was served with every -course. Followed pastry for dessert, and fruit was served out in dainty -portions. They brought the meal to an end by drinking French wine and -English rum, and lighting up their cigarettes. - -During the meal the platoon commander was deep in talk with Sergeant -Snogger and when the Christmas dinner was over he came forward and -spoke to the party. - -"My boys," he said, "this, I suppose, is the most interesting Christmas -you've ever spent." - -Bubb: "Too interestin' for me, sir." - -Platoon Commander: "Yes, I suppose it is. But I hope that neither you -nor any of us will spend Christmas under such conditions again. Such -things must be at times, I suppose, and seeing that it came to our -turn, I must admit that we did as well as any platoon in the British -Army. You stuck to your posts like bricks and reaped honours from a -fight where the odds were very much against us. Rifleman Benners at a -critical moment showed great resource in putting one of the enemy out -of action. For this we must thank him." - -Platoon: "Hear, hear. Good old Bowdy!" etc. - -Platoon Commander: "I haven't much further to say except that I'm going -to recommend Rifleman Benners for the D.C.M. I am not going to make any -inquiries as to where he spent last night and the early hours of this -morning. As all you men assert that he was in the trenches I'll take -your word for it! I'm not going to inquire where the champagne, bread -and other things came from, but if I may, I'll say that I've never in -all my life enjoyed a meal half as well as I enjoyed my Christmas -dinner in the Loos Salient." - -That night the Irish were relieved. - -A month later the D.C.M. was given to Bowdy Benners. - - - - - CHAPTER VIII - - BACK TO HIS OWN - - We're out't for duration now and do not care a cuss, - There's beer to spare at dinner time and afters now for us, - But if our buttys still were out in Flanders raising Cain, - We'd weather through with those we knew on bully beef again-- - The Old Sweats! - The grub it was skimp with the Ole Sweats, - But if rations was small, - 'Twas the same for us all, - Same for the 'ole of the Ole Sweats. - - (_From "Soldier Songs."_) - - -The dark night clung close to the wet levels of No Man's Land, and a -breeze whimpered across the grasses, crooning wearily. The whole world -seemed tired; the star-shells rose lazily over the German trenches, -burned drowsily for a space, and fell sluggishly to earth. The light -failing, the circle of horizon grew less, and objects quite close at -hand became hidden from view. The hour was about ten, and Bowdy Benners -felt tired and sleepy. He was sick of it all--the night raids, the -attacks, and bombing encounters. His mind turned to home--quiet -London--the peaceful houses, the easy nights of untroubled sleep, -afternoon teas, and the hundred-and-one comforts of civil life which -were so far removed from him at the moment. - -"It must be ten now," he muttered. "I suppose I'll get relieved -presently." - -The door of a near dug-out opened, and the ray of a candle shone out -into the trench. One of his mates came out, his rifle in his hand, his -waterproof ground-sheet over his shoulders. - -"Is that you, Bubb?" he asked. "Taking a turn as sentry?" - -"All right," Bubb answered. "Thought I wasn't coming out, eh? Are you -fed up?" he asked. - -"A bit sick of it," said Bowdy. "I'm tired of looking across the -parapet day and night. How do you like it?" - -"Rotten," said Spudhole. "The weather is so damned rotten! Everything's -rotten." - -He got upon the firestep, placed his rifle against the wall, and tied -his waterproof across his shoulders. - -"Old Flanagan is back," said Bubb, as Bowdy made his way towards the -dug-out. "'E 'as come wiv a fresh draft o' men." - -"Who? Flanagan? Where is he?" Bowdy asked in one mouthful. - -"He's in the dug-out," said Bubb. - -Bowdy rushed in, almost trampling on the face of a man who was asleep -near the door. Yes, Flanagan was there--handsome Flanagan, the gallant -youngster with a college education. - -He was an Irish boy and belonged to the section at St. Alban's in the -old days. He was a fine-looking youth of medium height, with heavy dark -hair, an intelligent forehead, impassioned nostrils and an air of -aloofness which became him well. He had a frank and open expression, -pensive grey eyes and high cheekbones. He came from the West of Ireland -and had studied for the priesthood. But feeling that this was not his -vocation he entered the Civil Service. His people belonged to an old -Irish family full of pride and poverty. Flanagan, though well educated, -was a bit of a rake and loved the bottle. When excited he spoke with a -delicious brogue and paid little heed to his grammar, but he was an -omnivorous reader and carried a number of books about with him in his -haversack. Montaigne was a great favourite of his. He had gone home -badly wounded seven months earlier and his mates never expected to see -him out in France again. - -He was now sitting in a corner of the dug-out, his handsome face -radiant with joy and eagerness, betraying a certain boyish innocence -which in no way detracted from the dignity of his features. - -"You've come back again, Flan?" Bowdy said, and gripped him by the -hand. - -"Yes, I'm back again," he answered. - -"Glad to be with us?" Bowdy queried. "Glad to leave London and come out -here?" - -"Of course I am," he answered, handing Benners a cigarette. - -The confession staggered Benners, but in a way he was not surprised. -Flanagan was a youngster who took eagerly to the life of war, its -romance and roving. He wanted to attempt everything; nothing was too -big for him. With him it was no sooner see than try, and his store of -enthusiasm was so unbounded that he generally succeeded in most -projects. But to come back again when his wound must surely have been a -permanent Blighty one! - -"Why have you come back?" Bowdy asked. "Tell me all about it while I -rouse the brazier and make a mess-tin of tea." - -"A mess-tin of tea!" he exclaimed, as Bowdy bent over the brazier. -"God, it's good to hear that, old man! The cups are so small at home. -Little things. But a mess-tin full! Heavens, things are done on such a -big scale in the trenches! One gets long hours of fighting, of working, -of watching. Everything is taken in big mouthfuls here; there's nothing -petty in the job. But at home--the soft beds--but I could not sleep; -the little tea-cups--but I had no appetite; the politeness, the swank, -the fine dresses--but the whole thing made me ill. We've been looking -on the gods here, and I went back to live with ordinary mortals--I -couldn't stick it!" - -"You're a big fool, Flan," said Benners, as he fanned the brazier with -a week-old copy of an English paper. "I would like to get home. I'd be -in no hurry...." - -"You think so," said Flanagan, "but you'd soon change your mind. I -spent two months in hospital, then I was sent to a convalescent camp. -But my shoulder wouldn't mend; you know I got it in the shoulder. I -couldn't raise my arm; something was dislocated. But that didn't -matter.... The convalescent camp was a damned nice place, near Brighton -and beside the sea. There was an old sergeant-major, a rheumaticky old -fellow who talked through his nose. But a good fellow all the same. We -called him Nick Nock. He had no end of trouble with us, the Old Sweats, -and he was always on the look-out for me. Got my name into his head -somehow, and maybe I was not easy-going enough for a rheumaticky old -man. He must have been about sixty-five. - -"We slept in huts. Nick Nock would come to the door of our hut in the -early morning. 'Are yer all in bed yet?' he would shout. (Flanagan gave -an imitation of a man speaking through his nose). 'Are yer never goin' -to get up? Where's Flanagan?' - -"'Close the door, Nick Nock,' someone would say. 'It's too blurry cold. -Close the door, will yer?" - -"'I'll not close the door,' the old man would answer. 'I'll get every -man of you out o' bed 'fore I leave 'ere. They're up in all the huts -bar this'n.' - -"'Oh! Close the door,' one would say, rising up in bed and lighting a -cigarette. - -"'I'll not close the door,' the sergeant would answer. 'Wot I want to -know is this: where's Flanagan?' - -"'Dead,' one would say. 'Gassed in the knees.' - -"''E's 'angin' on the wires,' from another. - -"''Is bed wasn't slept on last night,' from Nick Nock. 'When I see 'im, -'e'll be for it. And you'll all be for it if ye're not out o' kip when -I come back 'ere in ten minutes from now. Mind that.' - -"'Close the door, Nick Nock,' the hut would shout, as the sergeant -turned to go out. - -"'I'll not shut the door.' - -"'Leavin' it like that and it so cold,' all would expostulate. 'Please -shut the door.' - -"'I'll not shut the door,' from Nick Nock. 'One would fink that the -whole damn caboosh is out on a Sunday School treat.' - -"Then the old man would go out, closing the door behind him. Time for -me to appear then. I would come out from under the table where I had -hidden. I had been out all night and just got into the hut before Nick -Nock." - -"Was Nick Nock ever out here?" asked Bowdy. - -"Sixty-five and rheumaticky, what could he do?" said Flanagan. "But he -felt it. Once he said to us, 'You know, boys, I feel out o' place 'ere. -You fellows 'ave been out an' fightin', and 'ere when you come 'ome, -I'm bossin' ye. It's not fair.' - -"Ah! but another time he gave us a lecture, and this was how he -began:-- - -"'Boys, there 'as been great changes in the harmy of late years. When I -joined, it twasn't as good as it is now, but after I came things -improved, and at the present day a man cannot do better than roll up -an' become a soldier.'" - -"Damn Nick Nock," said Bowdy Benners. "Tell me something about -yourself. What did you do after you left the convalescent camp?" - -"Well, I went off on leave from the convalescent camp, lost my pass, -and forgot when I had to return. I came back seven days late. Things -took a turn; Nick Nock reported me and I was taken before a medical -board. The board had to determine whether I was in a fit state to -survive seven days in jankers or not. Three or four old and wise men -pummelled me, sounded me, and did a lot of other things. Finally they -discharged me from the army. God! I could jump over the moon with joy. -I bought a suit of civvies, brown tweeds, patent leather boots, and a -nice white collar, a dainty little tie, a velours hat. I was quite a -swell. Some of my friends live in London and I stopped with them. They -were going to help me, get me a bomb-proof job with good pay and lazy -hours. I had been a bit of a rake before the war, but they did not mind -that. A boy must have his fling. I had proved myself a man when the -country called. You know the things they would say, stock phrases that -are worthy of an auctioneer. I liked it for a little, Bowdy; but then, -the small teacups, the small talk, the little tit-bits of scandal...." - -Flanagan got to his feet, stuck his hands in his pockets, and looked at -Bowdy. - -"I used to lie awake at night--the beds were so damned soft and -uncomfortable--and think of the nights spent out in the trenches, -sitting in a snug dug-out with the rain pattering on the roof, or -through it," Flanagan went on, fixing his gaze at the candle. "Again my -thoughts would run on the long night marches up the road, with the -moonlight on the cobbles, and the big poplars standing upright like -pompous sergeant-majors, away up to the star-shells, the big guns and -the trenches. I thought of these things night after night, and I began -to feel afraid. I knew that it was coming, I knew that I would leave -England and come out to France again. I felt stifled at home; -everything was so small and little. God, the tea is beginning to bubble -already! - -"Do you remember, old man, that night when we lay in the orchard, -waiting to go up to the trenches to attack?" he suddenly asked, -thrusting his face almost into Bowdy's. "Do you mind the buses, crowded -with soldiers carrying rifles at all angles, going by on the road, the -star-shells flaring up in the sky, and the bayonets glittering? The -buses--going, going like hell, and the stars above shining through the -apple trees--the trees were in blossom then, if you mind.... Don't you -remember it?" he asked. - -"I shall never forget it," Bowdy answered. - -"And the raids?" he questioned, in a slow voice. "Crawling out through -the long grasses with the poppies flicking you in the face, your nerves -tense, not knowing what the next moment would bring. I thought of these -things day after day, and in the end I succumbed to the old lure. - -"'Twas a difficult job getting back again. There was I, dismissed from -the army, and no more good as a fighter; my shoulder stiff and sore; my -discharge papers showing that I was medically unfit, and in fact a -thorough wash-out. But something had to be done. 'Twas then that I met -old Nick Nock again. He was discharged, too--time-expired. I met him, I -grieve to state, in a pub. I stood him a drink and told him my -predicament. He thought for a moment, then he said: 'Why not come back -from the back o' beyond, a sailor, go up to the recruiting station an' -call yerself Bill Jackson an' get taken on again. Don't mention a word -about yer shoulder, an' maybe the M.O. won't notice it. Gawd! I'd go -wiv yer meself, Flanagan, if it wasn't fer those damned rheumatics.' - -"I tried the dodge, got taken on as Bill Jackson, who was at one time -A.B. before the mast, and now Flanagan is dead to the British Army -henceforward, evermore." - -"The tea is about ready, Bill Jackson," Bowdy said, as his mate sat -down on the floor between the legs of a man who was sound asleep and -breathing heavily. "If you care to wait a little, I'll fry a rasher of -bacon. Rations are pretty plump to-night." - -"And is there any rum going?" Flanagan asked, springing to his feet -again. He was too excited to remain still. "How strange that I had -forgotten to ask about the rum rations until now," he muttered. "I -suppose there'll be a tot after a little?" - -"It's within the bounds of possibility," Bowdy remarked, as he put two -rashers of bacon in the mess-tin lid and placed the lid on the brazier. -"But we'll see to that later. Necessities before luxuries out here, -Bill Jackson," he added. - -The bacon was ready and they sat down, Flanagan and Bowdy, and -commenced to eat. Meals have no season in the trenches, but they are -always welcome. - -"God, it's good to be back here!" said Flanagan. "I've never been so -happy in all my life! I hope the war won't end until this happiness is -worn out." - -He was sincere in his expressions, and his mood almost became Bowdy's -before the meal was at an end. They lay back when they had eaten and -lit cigarettes. The smoke wreathed upwards to the roof, where the mice -was scurrying amidst the rafters under the sandbags. The soldiers were -still asleep on the floor, their bodies curled up in queer attitudes. - -"They sleep sound," said Flanagan. "Who is that snoring? Is it old -Snogger?" - -"Snogger it is," said Bowdy. - -"I thought so," said Flanagan. "I knew his snore. I couldn't sleep like -that at home--I'm very glad to be out here again. It's a great life, -and I like it more than ever before. I suppose I'll get tired of it -again, after a while. The novelty will wear out in due time, I've no -doubt. By the way, have you Fitzgerald with you yet?" he asked. - -"He's here," Bowdy made answer. "He's in love with a French girl named -Fifi. He's very fond of her." - -"He's in love, is he?" said Flanagan. "I mind him at St. Albans; he was -in love so often. But none would take him seriously," he said. "Why, I -don't know." - -Bubb, the sentry, came to the door. - -"'Oo's next on?" he yelled. "Sleepin' there like 'ogs, you is. Get up -out't!" - -"Leave him alone," said Flanagan, alluding to the soldier whom Bubb was -endeavouring to rouse up. "I'll do his turn." - -"Well, blimey, that's a strange caper," said Bubb, as Flanagan -disappeared through the door. "One would fink 'e was in love wiv this -'ere caboosh. I know o' one squadder that ain't, that's this 'ere kid. -Well, any'ow, I'm goin' to 'ave a kip." - -Bubb and Bowdy lay down together and dropped off to sleep, listening to -the patter of the rain on the roof, while outside on the firestep -Flanagan was standing on guard, humming an old Irish song, his heart -filled with the joy of a wanderer who has returned to his kind. - - - - - CHAPTER IX - - TRENCH FEVER - - Now out in the trenches you'll find to your cost - That the slower you shuffle the sooner you're lost; - There are actions done better the quicker they're done, - Like getting your rations or bombing a Hun, - Or dodging a pip-squeak or catching a flea,-- - The quicker you do them the better they be. - - (_From "Trench Wisdom."_) - - -The Irish were back in the trenches again. It was night; the ground was -covered with snow, and Spudhole who did not feel well was glad of an -hour's rest in a dug-out. - -The dug-out belonged at one time to the Germans. It was a spacious -apartment stretching out into unfathomable corners. The dry floor was -level as a board and all round the walls snug little crannies were -scraped out in the clay. Here were stored all manner of odds and ends, -bully beef tins, loaves, biscuits, coils of barbed wire, hand grenades, -bandoliers, water jars, tins of jam, candles and firewood. - -A brazier burned on the floor, the smoke curled upwards and was sucked -out through a hole in the roof as through a chimney. A dozen men sat -around the fire, their sheepskin jackets steaming and the brass buckles -of their equipment shining like gold. The blaze, burning high, lit up -the steady eyes and ruddied the strong features of the men. Spudhole, -half asleep, leant forward over his knees, his arms folded, his -shoulders humped up and his helmet well down over his face. Bowdy -Benners was writing a letter, his notepaper spread out on Bubb's back, -his knees crossed. An old, wrinkled man of forty-eight, named Bill Hurd, -was telling how his own son had joined the Army at the outbreak of war. -Hurd was an Irishman and had worked as a carpenter on a big estate in -Devon, and his son John had a job in his father's workshop. - -"'Twas two days after war was declared," Bill was saying, "and I was -down in the kitchen waitin' till it was time to go out till my job. I -was always an early riser. Upstairs I heard John singin' like a thrush. -'What's wrong with him?' I says till myself, for, though he was a good, -willin' cub, he was not an early riser. When he came down I says till -him, 'What's up wid ye this mornin'?' I says. 'I'm goin' till jine up,' -he says. It most took my breath away. 'But ye're not only eighteen come -the end of next week,' I says till him. 'But I can be nineteen at a -pinch,' he answers, and what was to be said to that? I ups and shakes -him by the hand. 'Ye're a man, that's what ye are,' I says till him. -'And where are ye goin' to jine up?' I asks him. 'In the town,' he says, -meanin' the town nearest where there was a recruitin' station. 'Then -I'll go 'long wid ye an' see that ye're right fitted up,' I says to him. -'I must go out an' do an hour's work,' he then says. 'When I've finished -that I'll be ready to go.' 'Right, me boy,' I says, for I knew that he -wanted to go out and tell the other men what he was going to do. - -"So we goes to the recruitin' station and the corp'ral there runs a tape -over John. 'Ye'll do,' he says. 'Ye'll make a fine sodger.' So we went -out, me an' him, and I goes wid him to the nearest tobacco shop. 'Now -think of what ye're goin' to do,' I says till him. 'It's not an easy -job, the job of a sodger. Now think,' I said, 'think, me boy.' He looked -at me straight in the face and said, as if he was offended: 'Ye don't -think I've done wrong, do ye?' Begorra, there and then, I just--and -there were a lot iv people lookin' at us--I just caught him be the hand -and squeezed it. 'Ye're a man,' I says, 'an' I'll get ye a pipe an' -tobacco.' - -"And so I did, and would ye misdoubt me when I say that he was as handy -puttin' a match to a pipe as I was meself. But it's not easy to -understand young cubs." - -"When did you join up?" asked Snogger, who came into the dug-out at that -moment. - -"Long after that," said Billy. "There was a young fellow on the estate, -the son of me mistress. A fine, hearty-lookin' fellow, a rale good lump -iv a cub with laughey eyes and so handsome. He was a great friend iv -mine. Well, he was an officer in the regulars, and he got hit in the -eyes out here be a splinter iv a shell and he was knocked stone blind. -He comes home, goes into hospital, and was there for long enough, but -nothin' could be done. All hope was lost; he would be blind for life. -And his mother, she took it as calm as anything. 'Billy,' she used to -say to me, 'somebody must suffer and it's all for the country when all's -said and done.' She was a brave woman; didn't wear her heart on her -sleeve. I never saw her eyes wet, not until one day. 'Twas when her boy -sent a wee fretwork letter-rack home from hospital as a present to his -mother. He had made it himself, blind as he was, and it was very purty. -I was doin' a bit of woodwork in the hall when it came in a parcel. The -mother opened the parcel and saw what was inside.... And she began to -cry as if she would never stop. After that, when anybody spoke of her -boy, she would burst out weepin'. - -"Well, I liked the boy," said Billy. "So I thought 'twas up to me to -have revinge for him on the Germans. So I had a clean shave and went to -the recruitin' office and signed on as a man of thirty-nine." - -"Ye should have had more sense," said Bubb, getting to his feet, and -disappearing into a corner. No doubt the boy, who was not feeling well, -wanted to snatch an hour's sleep. - -Snogger looked at the men. - -"Six of you for rashun fatigue," he said. "Two to relieve the men on -guard. Whose turn is it?" - -"I'm one," said Bowdy. - -"Me as well," said Billy Hurd. - -"Pull yourselves together, then, and git out," said Snogger. "It's two -minutes past time." - -Bowdy and Billy got to their feet, buckled their equipment and went out -to their posts. An hour later they came back. Bowdy shook the snow from -his sheepskin jacket and sat down on the ground beside the brazier. - -"It's a very cold night outside," he said. "Freeze the horns off a brass -monkey, it would. Where's Spudhole?" he asked. - -"Wot's wrong now? Wot d'yer want?" asked a feeble voice, as Spudhole -peeped out from a dark corner by the wall. He rose to his feet and -buttoned his sheepskin jacket which had become loose. - -"How are you feeling now, Spudhole?" asked Benners. - -"Oh, I'm all right; in the pink," said Spud. "'Ave yer a drop of water -to spare?" - -Bowdy handed a water-bottle to Spud; the youngster raised it to his lips -and drank greedily. - -"Cold water's not a drink for a night like this," said Bowdy. "What you -want is something hot. If I make a mess-tin of tea, will you have some?" - -"Thank you," said Bubb, handing the bottle back. - -"I'm goin' to 'ave another kip now," he added. "Rouse me up when it's my -turn for sentry-go." - -He lay back, closed his eyes and felt very cold. At intervals he -shivered, shaking from head to foot. Innumerable currents of icy air -seemed to have taken up their abode in the dug-out, living, crafty -currents as cruel as enemies, which stole slyly down his back -penetrating between flesh and underclothing. They blew on the back of -his neck; when he turned round he encountered them on his face, they -stole out from all corners incessantly chilling him with their -treacherous, frozen breath. He fell asleep, woke up, and it seemed to -him that a swarm of ants had got into his throat and that other ants, -thousands of them, were crawling over his arms and legs. - -He got up, shook himself. His legs felt very weak, his head was -spinning. He tottered over to the fire. Bowdy, who was pouring a handful -of tea into the boiling water, looked up. - -"Good heavens, Spudhole, you are looking bad," he said. "Feeling cold?" - -"Cold's not the word," Bubb replied. "I wouldn't be worse off 'andcuffed -to a ghost. Wot's the time?" he asked. - -"Ten to eleven," said Bowdy, looking at his wrist watch. - -"Just 'bout my time for sentry-go," said Bubb in a weak voice. "I s'pose -I'm gettin' trench fever or somefin'," he added. - -Bowdy placed a spoonful of condensed milk in the tea, stirred it and -added sugar. - -"This will warm you up," he said, filling the mess-tin lid with tea and -handing it to Bubb. "Then you can lie down agin near the fire and I'll -do your turn as sentry." - -Spudhole had the lid half raised to his lips. His hand shook, the tea -splashed out in little drops which fell on the brazier. - -"Bowdy!" he said, in a slow voice. - -"What is it?" - -"I've never failed at my work yet," said Spudhole. "I'm not 'ere in the -trenches to shift my jobs on to other blokes." - -"But you're feeling queer," said Bowdy. "If I felt like that I would go -down and see the M.O. and get shoved into hospital." - -"Would you!" said Spudhole, placing the mess-tin lid on the floor. "I -know better. Wot did I 'ear yer say once? Ye'd never leave your trenches -when the regiment was there unless you were carried out on a stretcher." - -"That was only swank," said Bowdy. "You drink your tea, Spudhole, and -lie down. I'll put a couple of sandbags round you and if you're not -better in the morning, just run down and see the M.O." - -"Well, I'm damned if I goes away from the line," said Bubb. "Not until -the battalion is wiv me. That's settled." - -He bent down, raised the mess-tin and drank the tea. Snogger came to the -door. - -"Next on sentry-go?" he called. - -"I'm there," said Bowdy. - -"It's my turn," said Bubb. - -"No chewin' the fat, or some of ye'll be damned unlucky," said Snogger. -"'Ooever's on's on, that's all; so get some elbow grease on and 'urry -out. Them that's on's a minute and 'arf over their time already." - -Spudhole went out, crawled up on the firestep and relieved the sentry. -Leaning both arms on the parapet, he looked over No Man's Land towards -the German trenches. The levels in front, a shell-scarred spread of -ground set off in its ghastly array of barbed wire entanglements, was -covered with snow. Here Nature had only one mood, a mood of sulky menace -which overawed and subdued the tempers of the onlookers. The sky was -coldly clear and a million stars showed in its broad expanse. But Bubb's -circle of horizon was very small, objects quite near at hand stood out -weirdly silhouetted with a blurred, though definite outline. The -trenches were wrapped in ghostly solitude, the brazier aflare in the -dug-out which Bubb had just left added no relieving tint to the blind -helplessness of the night. - -The sick boy stood back from the parapet and clapped his hands together -in an endeavour to warm himself. - -"Gawd, it's cold 'ere," he muttered. "I wish I was in the dug-out 'avin' -a kip. 'Twould be so much better than standin' out 'ere. But I wouldn't -'ave it, naw, not at any price. I wouldn't shove my job on to any bloke. -Bowdy would do sentry-go for me, good old Bowdy, and so would old Flan -if 'e warn't down at the dump, but why should they? I wouldn't mind -lettin' them do it if it was out o' the trenches." - -"How are you getting on, Spud?" asked a voice from the trench. "Feeling -the cold?" - -The boy looked down at Captain Thorley. The captain and he were great -friends. - -"Cold," said Spud, through chattering teeth. "It's not warm 'ere, is it, -sir? I feel as cold as if I was 'andcuffed to a ghost." - -"I hear that you're not feeling well," said the captain. - -"I'm orlright, sir. Was a bit dicky a minute back, but the cold air -'asn't 'arf bucked me up." - -"Well, you know that Bowdy will do your job for you if you're feeling -queer," said Thorley. - -"I know that, sir, but I'm orlright," said Bubb. "Besides, I wouldn't -rob a man of 'is sleep." - -Bubb finished his hour, but when his next turn as sentry came round he -was unable to perform his duty. He looked helplessly at his mate. - -"Bowdy," he said, in a low, apologetic voice. "I've no guts for anuvver -hour's sentry-go. I'm washed out. I will go down to the M.O. not -to-morrow mornin' but now. If I stay 'ere any longer, I'll 'ave to be -carried out o't. But didn't I stick it to the last, Bowdy?" - -"Of course, you did. I'm damned if I'd stick it so long." - -"Clear out of it at once, Spudhole," said Billy Hurd. "Ye're like a -ghost, somethin' like what a cat would take in on a wet day." - -"Ye think I'm sick enough to leave 'ere then?" asked Bubb. "I don't want -any o' the fellers to say, arter I go, that I was swingin' the lead." - -"If ye stop 'ere any longer, they'll say that ye're stayin' here, hopin' -that ye'll be so bad when ye leave that ye'll never be sent back again." - -"Then I'm off out't," said Bubb, decision in his voice. "I'll try and be -back as soon as I can." - -He went outside and made his way to the dressing station. Dawn found him -snug in a motor ambulance on his way to hospital. - - - - - CHAPTER X - - LOST TO THE WIDE - - There's a rum jar in the dug-out and a parcel in the post-- - Fol ol the diddle ol the dee! - And I couldn't be much colder were I handcuffed to a ghost-- - Fol ol the diddle ol the dee! - There's a quartermaster-sergeant and the dug-out's his abode-- - Fol ol the diddle ol the dee! - And a shell has hit the mail-bag and it's scattered on the road-- - Fol ol the diddle ol the dee! - - (_From "The Strafed Mail-bag."_) - - -It was past eight o'clock of a January evening and the soldiers in "Home -Sweet Home" dug-out sat down late to tea. The dug-out was situated at -the bottom of a chalk-pit near Vimy Ridge and was occupied by officers' -servants, company runners, signallers and others who generally kept in -close touch with battalion headquarters. The chalk pit was more or less -immune from shell fire, for, being narrow and deep, it was difficult for -a shell to reach the bottom, round which a ring of spacious dug-outs -circled. Over the top and five hundred yards eastwards ran the -communication trench which wound its way discreetly up to the British -front line. - -Lights gleamed in the dug-outs and sounds of laughter and singing could -be heard from "Home Sweet Home." It was a capacious shelter, originally -fashioned by the French, and capable of holding thirty men. At the -present moment it contained some fifteen British soldiers engaged in the -pleasant task of eating a substantial meal. Rations as well as the post -had just come up from the railhead, rum was issued, and the parcels from -home had been bulky. The meal was proceeding merrily. Some of the men -were laughing and chatting, sitting on the ground, their knees crossed -and mess-tins of steaming tea in their hands. Two or three were stripped -and their wet clothes were hung over the fire in the brazier. All were -so cool and happy that it was difficult to believe that the German -shells were just dropping outside the door.... Suddenly the waterproof -sheet that covered the door was raised and a newcomer entered. He stood -for a moment looking round, then he approached an up-ended ammunition -box which stood in the centre of the dug-out and sat down on it. - -"Oh, it's old Fitzgerald," exclaimed Flanagan, now of the signalling -section, who was endeavouring, with the aid of a bayonet, to draw the -cork from a rum jar. "How are things going on up at Vimy?" he asked. - -"Not so bad," Fitzgerald answered. "There's plenty of shells flying -across, and now and again we get a Minnie, saucy devil. We do get more -than is good for our health. Vimy is not the most pleasant place on our -front. I've helped to take a prisoner down." - -"A prisoner?" Flanagan exclaimed, handing Fitzgerald a drop of rum in a -mess-tin. "A German?" - -"Yes, a youngster," Fitzgerald answered, lifting the rum reverently to -his lips and rolling it round in his mouth. "He was caught on a -listening patrol. Wounded and unconscious. I've got to wait here until -he recovers, hear what he has to say, and report back to Captain Thorley -with any information. You know we fear a mine going up at the sap, for -all day and night we can hear tapping under the ground." - -Fitzgerald held out his mess-tin again and received another tot of rum. -Then he lit a cigarette. - -"There's nothing like a drop of rum," he remarked. "It's 'health to the -navel and marrow to the bones,' as the Scripture has it." - -The hut laughed. - -"What about a song, Fitz?" Flanagan asked. - -"An old Irish one; a come-all-you." - -"Nell Flaherty's Drake?" said Fitz in a tone of enquiry. The rum had put -him in gay good humour. - -"Spit it out," Flanagan yelled. - -Fitzgerald commenced the song. - - "My name it is Nell, the truth for to tell, - I live near Coothill, which I'll never deny, - I had a fine drake, the truth for to spake, - Which my grandmother left me before she did die. - - "He was wholesome and sound and could weigh forty pound, - The wide world round I would roam for his sake, - But bad luck to the robber be he drunk or sober, - Who murdered Nell Flaherty's beautiful drake. - - "May his temples wear horns and all his toes corns, - May he always be fed on lobcourse and fish-oil, - May he ne'er go to bed till the moment he's dead, - May his cow never milk, may his kettle never boil." - -"That's the supreme curse, I think," Fitzgerald remarked, smiling -lazily. "'May his kettle never boil'! Think of that--in Ireland, where -the teapot's as greedy as the grave." - -"Is that the end of the song?" a soldier asked from the corner. - -"Only the first three verses," Fitzgerald replied. "There are forty -verses in the song, but I forget the rest. My memory!" he exclaimed, -rising to his feet. "Good God! I forget everything, my memory is my -curse.... Who has got a cigarette to spare?" - -At that moment an orderly came to the door and shouted out: "D Company -runner." - -"I'm D Company runner," Fitzgerald remarked. - -"Report to headquarters immediately," said the orderly. "Also Rifleman -Flanagan to report. Two men must take the message." - -"I'm there," said Fitzgerald, turning to Flanagan and asking: "Can I -have another cigarette before we go?" - -He got another cigarette, placed it in his cap and accompanied by -Flanagan went out into the open and across to headquarters dug-out. The -adjutant was inside sitting at a table, a cup of tea and a box of -cigarettes in front of him. He knew Fitzgerald very well, having met him -in civil life. - -"I want you to go to the Ridge as quickly as you know how," said the -adjutant, fixing his eyes on the runner. "The young German has regained -consciousness and he tells us that the enemy are going to blow up three -mines under our front to-morrow morning at six. The men must withdraw to -the second trench until further orders. I've tried to 'phone up, but can -get no answer to my calls. The wire must be broken. Hand the message -over to Captain Thorley or any other officer whom you may encounter. You -do the same, Flanagan, and both report back here when you've done -this...." - -He handed a sealed envelope to Fitzgerald and the runner went out into -the night, the final words of the adjutant ringing in his ears. - -"Very important, remember; very important." - -Fitzgerald clambered up the side of the pit with difficulty, the chalk -was frittering away and the man had very insecure purchase of his feet. -Flanagan followed keeping a hundred yards to rear. At headquarters -another runner was receiving a similar message. One would certainly -deliver it safely. - -When Fitzgerald crossed the rim of the chalk pit he could see the line -of battle, the starshells flaring in the heavens and the lurid flames of -bursting explosives lighting up the darkness. In front a spinney where -the trees were riven and shattered took on strange shapes, the lifeless -ruined branches stretched outwards, as it were, in reproach and despair; -the fallen trees lay on the ground like rotting corpses. - -War's earthquake had rent the whole country. Dark, sepulchral chasms -yawned in the ground and the whole earth seemed to have been gutted to -its core. A little red-brick cottage was smashed to smithereens; the -machinery of a mill stood suspended over nothing, and shapeless walls, -jagged and lacerated, quivered in air, ready to fall at the first gust -of wind. Where the pits were dug in the earth, shapeless heaps of white -chalk were flung up, and beside one of these heaps lay a battery of -field guns jumbled in inextricable confusion. The rusty steel muzzles of -the guns looked grotesque and distorted; the ruined dug-out in which the -gunners once lived, breathed tragedy from every broken beam and torn -sandbag. Dead men lay all over the place, shamelessly exposed in the -most unlikely situations. On the field of war Death is denied its -privileged privacy. - -Fitzgerald entered the communication trench and hurried along, panting -as he ran. Two shells swooped over his head, bursting with a vicious -clatter on the field behind him. Others followed, pounding at the -parapet like drunken gods. He could hear the splinters hitting the -parados with a dull thud to the accompaniment of a thousand rifle -bullets which tore at the suffering sandbags. - -Fitzgerald passed through one trench crossing, then another. "I'll do it -in five minutes now," he said, changing his rifle from one shoulder to -the other. "I hope the mine doesn't go up before I get there. Five -minutes," he muttered, "I'll be there in five minutes." - -But Fitzgerald miscalculated. At the end of five minutes he found -himself in a deserted trench, all alone, and then decided that it was -time to turn back. Probably he had taken the wrong trench at the last -crossing. He went back for a short distance and came to a junction. -Several trenches crossed at this point, but the locality seemed new to -him. He had not been there before. - -"Well, I'm damned," he said, and then added, "I'm lost as well." He -realised the danger of his plight and felt uncomfortable. Stories were -often told over braziers in the dim trench traverse, and many of these -stories spoke of men who went astray in the trenches and never returned. -Sometimes the lost soldiers found themselves in the enemy's lines, and -on other occasions they wandered up to their home parapets to fall a -victim to the rifle of a nervous sentry. Fitzgerald had heard many of -these stories and he recollected them now. - -Much fighting had recently taken place on Vimy Ridge and the English and -German trenches criss-crossed in several localities; in some places both -parties occupied the same trenches. - -Fitzgerald, alone and astray, had no definite idea of his position; he -only knew that he was lost at the cross-trenches and did not know which -trench led to safety. Perhaps he had passed beyond the British front. He -peered over the top. The night was quiet, scarcely a rifle spoke, though -many star shells were ablaze in the heavens and dropping petals of flame -to the dark earth.... Right in front of Fitzgerald was a ghastly heap, -jumbled and confused, a heap of dead men. And round this heap lay other -dead things, rejected from the more composite and bulky distortion of -war. The solitary figures lay--some face downwards, arms spread out, -others curled up like sleeping dogs. - -"Well, where am I?" asked Fitzgerald. "Whose starshell is that, ours or -theirs?... Where's our line?" - -He looked at a dead thing near him and shuddered. Then, shouldering his -rifle, he made his way up the trench on his right. - -"This is all right!" he muttered, passing a projecting beam of a fallen -dug-out. "I passed this a minute ago ... but not this." - -He detached himself awkwardly from the heap of limp bodies into which he -had fallen and hurriedly retraced his steps to the junction where the -dark trenches opened up to unknown mysteries. - -Fitzgerald leant wearily against the wall and puzzled over many things. - -"If I go over the top, what happens?" he asked himself. "Run into a -German patrol, maybe, or into one of our own covering parties and -they'll shoot me on sight. If I go along a trench, I'll probably get -into the German lines. That won't do, either. I'm like a rat in a -trap.... But I must get out of it. Yes, I must get out of it.... But -how?" - -The question caused a queer sensation to run down the innermost parts of -his body and the sensation was one of fear. He mumbled many things to -himself in a thick, quick undertone. Then, without realising the risks -he ran, Fitzgerald crawled over the parapet and went out into the open, -taking his rifle with him. - -It was a man lying face downwards on the ground that attracted his -attention first. He could have sworn that the man moved and brought a -rifle to bear upon him. Fitzgerald stood upright and fired at the man -twice, only to find that he was riddling a corpse with bullets. He flung -himself flat to avoid the machine gun that opened fire and waited till -it ceased its play. A galaxy of starshells lit up the heavens and a big -shell of another pattern whirled across the open and burst with a dizzy -clatter. In the distance could be heard the transports of war clattering -along the roads, the clank of rails unleaded at some far-off railway -siding, and gleaming luridly against the darkness could be seen the -flames of a building on fire some dozen miles away. Near Fitzgerald lay -a dead man, further off another, looking like an empty sack flung on the -ground. - -The maxim fire stammered into silence and the youth got to his feet, -looked round and listened with strained ears. Somewhere near he could -hear the sound of hammers and the creaking of shovels and he concluded -that a working party was busy at its toil. It was impossible to -determine to what side the party belonged. It might be German. The lines -of trenches were very confused and salients projected out like ducks' -bills in places, and at other points they receded some five hundred -yards from the opposite front. No man was ever more solitary than poor, -mud-stained Rifleman Fitzgerald at that moment. - -And the night was full of mysterious whispers, sounds, creakings and -rustlings. Spirits seemed to lurk on the vacant face of the earth and -uncanny spirits hovered over the world. In the near distance all objects -took on strange, undefined shapes, well in keeping with the grotesque -fantasy of war.... Suddenly Fitzgerald fancied that he heard somewhere -near him the sharp snap of a rifle bolt. He turned round and scurried -back to the trench which he had just left. It seemed quite a distance to -traverse and he slipped over the parapet and flopped down into the mud. -But not a soul was to be seen, the trench was deserted. Neither was it -the trench which he had left. Here the slush reached his hips. "Well, -I'm damned!" he said, and leant against the parapet. "What am I going to -do? I'm going to stick here, stick well in." - -Shadow and silence brooded over the place, he had descended into the -stagnation of the tomb. The clammy slush ran down his top boots and -settled round his heels. He advanced one step, then another, touching -both walls of the alley with his outstretched hands. He looked up and -saw that the walls were very steep. It was impossible to climb up; the -clay was too soft, it came away in the hands, and his feet were so -weighty. Besides now he was sticking. Every time he moved the mud -gripped him with greater vehemence. It seemed as if his feet were -slipping down the throat of a voracious monster which was endeavouring -to swallow him. The floor of the trench was a treacherous quicksand, as -greedy as the grave. For a moment, Fitzgerald fought madly against the -embrace of this soft, elusive terror, he gripped at the walls, the mud -came away in his hands, he pulled one foot out, the other sank deeper. -To move was ghastly, to remain still was deadly. - -"I must move," he muttered. "If I don't I'll die; if I make a struggle, -my fate will rest on the knees of the gods and they may save me." - -The mud was reaching his waist. To pull out one leg he had to reach -forward until his face touched the mucky floor, raise his hind foot -clear, bring it round with a circular motion and place it down in the -slush again. The same operation had to be performed at each remove. -Once, he placed his hands in the muck and tried to crawl. But the effort -was futile; his hands sunk in to the shoulder and the earth rose -greedily, as if wanting to clutch him. - -Fitzgerald came to a halt and looked hopelessly round. Nothing was to be -seen but the darkness; the night was a cavern in which he had got lost. -He gripped at the wall of the trench with furious fingers and part of -the parapet came away in his hands, almost burying him. - -"It's no good. I'm going to peg out here," he said, as he tried to shake -himself clear. "If I only had a starshell over my head I'd look for a -spot to die. I would select a better spot than this, anyway, if I had -choice. But they've stopped sending up starshells now.... And I should -have a parcel by the post to-night," he muttered. "And another drop of -rum will be going round now I think.... But is that all I've to think -about?..." - -He shouted at the top of his voice, but there was no reply. He yelled -again and then became silent. "What's the good of it?" he asked himself -in a whisper. "I don't know where I am. Maybe I'm near the German -trenches. If they find me here what will they do? Tread me in, -probably.... And the mine, what about it? I've still got the message in -my pocket. I wish this had happened after I had delivered the thing. But -I'll go on a bit. I'll get to somewhere." - -He moved forward. The first step was difficult, the next was easier, the -subsoil had lost its birdlime tenacity and the slush was not as dense. A -few steps further and Fitzgerald breathed. He was going up an incline, -getting out of it his head was almost parallel with the rim of the -trench. He burst into song: - - "Four stick standers, - Four lilly wanders, - A hooker - And a crooker - And a swing about. - Three sheep sharahan, - Owned by Eamon Garahan, - A ribag - And a thonag - And a coat of bawnagh brockagh." - -The song suddenly stopped. A heavy shell swept over his head and burst -very near. Another followed and another and Fitzgerald noticed that he -had reached a junction where a number of trenches criss-crossed. - -"Another damned labyrinth," he muttered. "Out you get, on to the top, -Rifleman Fitzgerald," he ordered, apostrophising himself. And out he did -get. It was now he discovered that his rifle had vanished, "Oh, I -suppose it's in the mud," he muttered. "Lucky I'm not." - -A trench showed some distance away. He made for it, slipped over the -parapet and landed on something soft which moved. - -"Gawd Orlmighty! Wot the ---- are yer ---- up ter," said a soldier, -rising from the mud. - -"They're shelling us," said Fitzgerald. "You'd better rouse up. What -trench is this?" - -"The support," said the man, "We're waitin' for a mine to go up or -somefing." - -The rest of the men were standing at their posts, alert and ready. The -enemy had become nasty and were using an exceptionally heavy shell on -the sector, but as yet it was bursting wide. - -"A nine-point-two," somebody remarked to Fitzgerald, adding: "And Gawd! -it doesn't 'arf send the dirt flyin' about. They'll attack, maybe." - -"Any officers near here, Spudhole?" Fitzgerald asked, for he had -recognised the voice of his comrade Bubb. - -"'Orficers," said Spudhole. "Yes, Cap'n Thorley was about 'ere a minute -ago; 'e.... Gor blimey, there's the shell again!" - -Fitzgerald listened and heard "her" coming, crooning out the unknown. It -was the big shell. Gathering volume it approached, an inevitable terror, -a messenger of death. There was a hurried stampede to a near dug-out and -Fitzgerald found himself in the crush and carried forward into the dark -recess of a deep shelter. In the next few moments he was conscious of -many things, of a sudden fall to the soft, muddy floor, of a choking -sensation in the throat, a monstrously futile effort to drag himself -clear of the man who fell on top of him, of nervous laughter and fierce -imprecations. Then he sank into forgetfulness. The shell had blown the -dug-out in on its occupants. - - - - - CHAPTER XI - - A SCRAP - - We're well in the doin's. No more to be said-- - The orficer wounded; the sergeant is dead. - If somethin' don't 'appen and that very soon, - We'll not have a man in the blurry platoon-- - Blurry platoon, - Pore ole platoon, - Always it's for it; this blurry platoon. - - (_From "A Soldier's Song."_) - - -It was not yet dawn, and the rain dropped sullenly into the wet trench -where the soldiers stood to arms on the banquette, yawning and shivering -with the cold. The bayonets showed clear cut and ominous when the -blazing star-shell caught them. The men on watch shook themselves, -rubbed their eyes with clay-encrusted fingers, and hummed monotonous -tunes. All was very quiet. The dawn was oppressive, the dark, mysterious -levels had an ominous threat in their incomprehensible silence. The -support trench into which the soldiers had come was a great mysterious -alley filled with spectres as impalpable as air.... The dawn came -imperceptibly, men stood down and spoke of breakfast. But there was no -fire; the loaves and biscuits were sodden with rain. Spudhole, who tried -to open a tin of bully-beef with his clasp knife, cut his finger and -swore dreadfully. His mates stared at him and nodded their heads, but -did not speak.... - -Captain Thorley came along the trench speaking to the men on sentry-go. - -"Cut your finger, Spudhole?" he asked when he came into the bay in which -Bowdy and Bubb were stationed. The captain knew every man by nickname. - -"Cut it," said Bubb. "Course I've cut it, sir. My fingers are so damn -cold. Wot about this 'ere mine, sir?" - -"It may go up now at any moment," said Captain Thorley. "You've all got -to keep a good look-out. When it goes up every man cross the top and man -the crater. Just as you did on Christmas morning. Bowdy will go with us -this time. On the last occasion he was away, making love to some dear -French girl." - -Bowdy blushed. - -"Pore ole Fitz 'as gone west," said Bubb. "'E's under the ground wiv a -dozen tons o' muck on top o' 'im. There are five or six o' our boys -buried wiv 'im. Round the corner in the next bay." - -"I was looking at the dug-out that fell in," said Bowdy. "They're buried -deep enough anyhow. It's no good digging them out." - -"We've no time for that," said Thorley. "It's a long day's work for a -big squad if it's ever attempted. Of course there's not a soul alive. -Fitzgerald was coming with a message too. But it's all right, Flanagan -brought the message in." - -"Did you see a bay'net stickin' up froo the roof?" asked Bubb. "The -dug-out fell down round it, and there it's stickin' up as if it wanted -to stab somebody." - -At that moment the earth trembled like a wind-shaken leaf. The men -rushed to the parapet and looked over. Out in front a great lump rose on -the level like a whale breaking up from the sea, and a livid flash lit -the world. The soldiers sank into cover, mute, pale, hesitating. The -roar of an earthquake filled their ears, and a million flying fragments -filled the sky.... An almost incoherent order passed along the trench, -and on the right men clambered over the sandbags into the open field.... -They had to take possession of the mine crater. Snogger, Bowdy Benners -and Bubb were across and in the next minute they were conscious of many -things. Bubb slipped twice in getting over the top, and panted wearily -as he rushed towards the spot where the earth was lumped up black and -raw. Other men rushed along at his side, shouting and yelling. Rifles -were discharged wildly at no particular objective, and a group of -voluble guns chorused in dizzy harmony. - -The men clambered down the steep sides of the newly-formed valley, a -hundred feet deep or more, and up the crest again, where it looked over -the enemy's trenches. The Germans were already advancing in extended -order several hundred strong. The advance was done at the double through -the lurid flashes of curtain fire which the English guns had opened. The -Germans were falling, and the sight steadied the men somewhat, and they -trained their rifles with precision and a certain amount of calmness on -the oncomers. - -The English guns were now speaking with furious vehemence and the -shrapnel hissed at the grey forms which were still rising over the rim -of the trench in front. Bubb and Benners lay down with their mates on -the slope of the parapet and fired, a bit wildly perhaps, but it was -impossible to miss. A machine-gun, already in position, swayed its snout -from side to side, snapped viciously, and extracted its toll from the -attackers. - -They came forward, rushing wildly, their bayonets in air, their legs -clumsily cutting off the distance between their trench and the crater. -Many in the first line of attackers were falling and several were -crawling back to their own lines on their bellies. Our bombers stood -waiting, fingering their bombs nervously. The stench of explosives was -suffocating. Several who were overcome with the gases dropped to the -ground and rolled down the slope into the bottom of the pit. Bill Hurd -stood up on the verge of the crater, where the wet, glistening -machine-gun peeped forth. - -"Steady, boys, steady!" he cried. "Take careful aim! Don't waste a -round! Make every bullet tell! We'll beat them off! We'll beat them -back, back, well back! Begorrah we'll show them." - -He looked enormous, standing there, shouting vehemently and waving his -arms. - -"Beat them back!" he yelled, repeating the same remark over and over -again. His rifle lay against the rim of the crater; the bayonet, rusty -and grim, peered over the top as if in waiting. - -"Take good aim," he shouted, running along the rim of the crater. "Be -sure of your min.... Don't get flurried.... We'll bate thim back -easily!... Keep cool and don't get flurried. If ye do you'll be damned -unlucky. Don't get excited," he shouted. "If you do it won't be no -good." - -He held his peace then and Bubb looked round to see where he had sought -cover. He was lying on his face and a very tiny red scar showed on his -forehead. - -Although the enemy advanced at the double, the time dragged slowly for -the men on the parapet. They waited in agonised suspense for closer -combat; somehow the firing seemed to have very little effect on the -attackers. Hundreds fell and hundreds took the place of the fallen. The -rim of the foemen's parapet was like the lip of a waterfall; the men -came across in waves, got dashed to pieces, and waves followed only to -meet with a similar fate. The successive lines of men were endless, -eternal as a running brook. - -The German first line drew nearer, the English could almost see the -expressions of the men's faces; felt that the soul of the attackers was -not in their work. It was impossible to miss them now. The attacking -lines withered like waves on a beach. One man who came in front flung -down his rifle, raced towards the crater with his hands in air and -jumped in on top of Bill Hurd's bayonet, a ludicrous fixture. - -"Pull it out!" he yelled in agony, speaking in good English. "Pull it -out, for Gott's sake!" - -But there was no time to spare at that moment; the English were fighting -to save their own skins. The German rolled down to the bottom of the -crater with the bayonet on which he had sat still stuck in his body. - -A second and a third wave of attack followed; but the concentrated fire -of the defenders cut great gaps in the attackers' lines, which became -merged one with the other, when half way across. The men had no heart -for further movement; they drew themselves to earth, and dug holes in -the ground for safety. The English artillery fire prevented them from -going back, the rifles would not allow them to come forward; they were -caught between two fires. - -Now and again an entrenching tool could be seen rising in air, and it -was fired at. When a figure in grey moved, a questing bullet reminded it -forcibly of the indiscretion. At times one would rise and walk around in -an unconcerned and indifferent manner, probably he had gone insane, or -perhaps the pain of a wound put death out of reckoning. The end was in -all cases the same, the bullet found the man, and the ghastly fury of -destruction held its sway. - -On the right they reached the wires and the boys went out and met them: -there the bayonet was at work. - -They came up in big droves and some fumbled through. The defenders -rushed out and gave fight.... An excited machine gunner played for a -minute on the crush of friend and foe.... - -The Germans lost heart, retreated and were followed with bayonet, -bludgeon and bomb. Tripping on the wires and stepping in flesh and -blood, they went back, tramping on dead and wounded. The latter groaned -piteously and shrieked for mercy. - -The retreat became general, the front wave of attackers receded, those -which followed stood still undecided. Here and there isolated parties -made great fight, holding out until the last men fell.... - -Some of the Irish followed them across: a large party of prisoners were -surrounded near the hostile trench. The German gunners had shortened -their range and were now shelling the ground between the lines. - -Fighting was even more severe on the right. There a confused and -struggling mass reeled round the wires in a last wild effort, and the -German artillery dealt death impartially to friend and foe alike. On all -sides the wounded covered the field, lying in huddled heaps, in rows, -singly and in pairs. In front of the mine a German moved on his stomach, -then rose to his feet and flung a bomb at a party which went out to -succour the wounded. A youngster, a boy newly out, named Ryan, rushed -forward with his rifle, fired and missed. Still advancing, he slid a -round into the breach of his weapon, shoved the rifle close to the -German's forehead and pulled the trigger. The upper part of the man's -head was blown off.... - -All day long the men stopped in the crater, always on the alert, and in -front of them a long line of earth gradually took shape on the field, -which showed that the enemy worked hard digging himself in. Towards dusk -the dark line took on a whitish colour; the diggers had reached the -chalk and were well under cover. When darkness fell the trench was -raided and the occupants taken prisoners. Then graves were dug and the -dead were buried. - - - - - CHAPTER XII - - THE DAY'S WORK - - It's bloomin' well still the same, - Ever and always the same, - Right in the thick of it, - Not feelin' sick of it, - Naw! but it's always the same, the same. - - I like the 'ole bisness, not 'alf, - Son of the Empire, not 'alf! - Le guerre never finny, - It's whizzbang and Minnie, - And always the usual strafe, strafe, strafe. - - For ever and ever the same, - Bloomin' well always the same; - If the guns for a change - Would just lengthen their range, - But naw! they just strafe us the same. - - (_From Trench Doggerel._) - - -The winter was over, the birds were singing again on the barbed wire -entanglements, the green grasses peeped out between the cobbles of the -deserted village streets, and the flowers showed in the open spaces -between the lines. The trenches were becoming dry; the parapets no -longer crumbled down; it was possible to climb over the parados at night -without flinging half the structure into the muddy alleys, where the -soldiers kept eternal watch on the lines across the way. Sheepskin -jackets were handed in; top boots were worn no more; a man could sleep -at ease in a dug-out now, for the roofs, no longer weighted by the rain, -had ceased falling in on the hapless sleepers. The tottering walls -gathered strength; tottering spirits were braced up; men saw the sun and -were pleased. The winter was over. - -For one who has not experienced them, it is difficult to realise the -hardships of the front line between the months of October and April. The -trenches are deep ditches filled with mud and water that reach the -waist. Now and again the heavy top-boots are useless protection against -wet, the water rises over the tops of the boots and runs down the legs -of the men. The boots stick in the mud, and often the men have to climb -out of them; clamber from cells into a quagmire. In the days following -the first trench winter when the earth got dry soldiers who had died in -their top-boots were dug from the floors of the trenches. Weary with -their efforts to get free from the deadly embrace of the muddy quagmire, -they fell asleep and succumbed to exposure, died in their graves. And in -spring they were dug out and buried anew. - -The dug-out is as treacherous as the trench. The shaky construction, the -lodge of fear, is always built in a hurry. Weak props hold a crazy roof -in place; sandbags filled with earth serve the purpose of tiles. In dry -weather a dug-out serves its purpose well, but in the rainy weather the -sandbags becoming saturated finally weigh the rafters and props down to -earth. Time and again the weary sleepers never wake, their shelter -becomes their grave. - -The trenches in the summer nights have a charm peculiarly their own when -the starshells riot in the heavens and the air is full of the languorous -scent of sleeping flowers. If the guns of war are silent, there is a -genial atmosphere pervading the whole place, and men go about their work -in a light-hearted manner. - -One can smell tea brewing in the sheltered bay where a brazier glows -cosily in the lee of the traverse. A game of cards is in progress in a -dug-out, and a youth may be seen writing a letter by the light of a -timid candle stuck on the wall. At that moment one does not feel far -removed from home. But what a contrast in the cheerless winter. All the -cosy comfort is a thing of the past. Men plough through muck and mire, -dragging their feet and legs through water and mud, or sleep in the -open, shivering with cold. The fingers are chilled to the bone, all -feeling has gone away from the feet; for all one knows, the feet may -have gone. No fires are lit, there is no wood, nothing that will burn. - -The long night marches have lost all their romance. Clothes are seldom -dry, they cling to the body like the rags of a drowned man, scourging -and scaling the flesh. The cold rain stings the flesh, the snow freezes -the fingers. Marching is difficult, the roads are thick with mud, and -all roads lead to the firing line, the line of red agony, of desolation. -The soldier is a mute, impotent figure, a blind pawn in the game of war. -The billets are cold and cheerless. The broken roof, which allowed the -winds of night to play round the sleepers in the hot summer weather, now -lets in the cold and wet. Sleep is hardly a rest, it is a moment of -forgetfulness similar to the solace which a sick man finds in a drug. - -Spring was well on its way now; the boys in the trenches were happy -again. Bubb and Flanagan were up to any sort of mischief or deed of -daring. The persistent sniper who kept potting at their bay annoyed them -however. Bubb, back from hospital and full of vitality, vowed that it -was up to him to put the sniper out of action. - -"I'm goin' up on this 'ere caboosh at the rear," said Bubb pointing to -the slag-heap behind the British front line. "I'll maybe get a sight on -the Boche." - -"I'm with you in the game," said Flanagan. - -Both men went out in the early dawn and took their places close to the -crest of the mammoth slag-heap. Noon found them still there lying prone -on the surface of the coal-mines' off-scour, their heads close to the -rim of the heap, their eyes fixed on the enemy's trench which wound -slyly as a snake through the levels some seven hundred yards away. A -spit down from the two boys lay the English line. Out in front of it -dozens of bundles in khaki lay limp and lifeless, waiting for the summer -to cover them up with her flowers. - -"There's a 'undred or more, out there," said Bubb. "Gawd, it's a funny -bisness, killin' and killin'. One would think we enjoys it by the fuss -the pypers in England makes o' it. Anyway, it's a blurry rotten way of -fightin'," he continued as he changed his position by the fraction of an -inch without removing his eye from the tip of the rifle foresight. -"Gawd," he whispered, "I 'ave 'im now. I saw somefin' move just like a -bird. I'll give 'im a round." - -"Don't," muttered Flanagan, under his breath. "It's no good firing if -you're not sure of your man. One shot will give us away, and that's the -twentieth time you've seen him; each time in a different spot. He's not -like a bird; he can't be in two places at one time.... What the hell! -Don't move!" - -"A cramp in my guts!" groaned Bubb, wriggling a little. "Gawd, it isn't -'arf giving me gyp! Ooh--whooh!" - -The youth kicked out with both legs, raised his head an inch or two, -then brought it down again to the level of the earth. Flanagan swore -under his breath and cursed Bubb with vehemence. - -"I can't 'elp it," said Bubb. "I must move. I'd rather 'ave a bullet in -the 'ead than a cramp in my belly. Wooh! It'll twist me up like a 'edge -'og!" - -"Matey," whispered Flanagan, turning half left and fixing his eyes on -Spudhole. - -"Wot!" - -"You know that if you're seen moving you'll get a bullet across -here----" - -"I don't care a damn," said Bubb. - -"But I do," muttered Flanagan. "Next time I come out sniping I'm going -to take a man with me; one that won't give a position away when he has -got a sore tummy----" - -"I'm not going to move no more," said Bubb. "I'm going to be as quiet as -a sandbag. Ooh-wooh!" - -"How's your cramp now?" asked Flanagan, when Bubb had kept quiet for a -good ten minutes. "Gone, is it?" - -"It's 'opped it," said Spudhole with a laugh. "Blimey!" - -Both men cowered to earth giggling nervously as the bomb burst, -scattering a cloud of dust over them. A second shell burst, and a third. - -"They must have spotted us," said Flanagan, frowning at the fields. - -"If they have it's all up." - -But the shelling ceased as suddenly as it had begun, and the youngsters -breathed freely again. - -"Cleaning out their guns, I suppose," said Flanagan. "Lucky they didn't -clean us out of existence.... I'm tired of waiting here." - -"I'm tired an' 'ungry an' 'ot," said Bubb. "But we can't get out of this -damned place till night ... they won't 'arf 'ave the laugh on us when we -go back." - -"Not half," said Flanagan absently. - -"And I bet Captain Thorley a bob I'd lay the sniper by the 'eels," said -Bubb. "But it's no go." - -"Well, where can the fellow be?" asked Flanagan, removing a speck of -dust from the backsight of his rifle with a cautious hand. "No man can -fire at us from the German trench. It's behind a rise, and even if one -of the Boches looks over the parapet he can't see our trench. But still -the fact remains that no sooner does one of our boys look over than a -bullet zipps past his ear. Where does the bullet come from? The sniper -_must_ be between the lines. He must, but where?" - -Spudhole shrugged his shoulders helplessly and muttered: "We was fools -comin' out 'ere. But 'e 'as done for four of our fellers an' 'e must -die. If 'e doesn't...." - -He shook a cautious little head and became silent. The sun sank down the -sky, and its sight slid along the barrels of the rifles from hand-guard -to muzzle whenever the weapons were moved. Flanagan crunched a biscuit -with zealous teeth; Bubb traced furrows in the ground with his trigger -finger, but all the time kept his eyes fixed on the front. - -"Our boys are makin' tea now," he said. "It's about four o'clock, I -suppose ... that damned sun's in no 'urry neither. There!" he ejaculated -suddenly. "One of our boys 'as put 'is 'ead over the trench! Wait." - -Both men heard it, a smothered shriek like the sound of a drowning -puppy. - -"'E 'as got it in the 'ead," said Bubb in a fierce voice. "The bloody -fool! Flan!" - -"What is it, Bubb?" - -"I saw smoke," said Bubb, speaking calmly. "Just look over. See a little -holler near the German lines? Yes? Well, there's a dead man there wiv -'is knees curled up. Got im? That's the place. I saw a puff of smoke and -somefing moved. Look, Flan, see somefing shining?" - -"I see it," said Flanagan. - -"The sun's catchin' the sniper's 'ipe." - -Both the youngsters drew their weapons taut to their shoulders and -adjusted their sights. - -"Four-fifty?" inquired Bubb, adjusting his sight to four hundred and -fifty yards. - -"A little lower, a little lower," said Flanagan. "Make it four and -you'll not be far out.... It'll be hard to judge ... if we hit the dead -man. He'll not raise a dust. You aim first, Bubb." - -Bubb's left cheek twitched, and his eye took in the objective. He pulled -the trigger. A spurt of dust flew into air a little to the rear of the -dead man. - -"Aim low, and we'll get him next time," said Flanagan. - -Both rifles spoke together. A figure detached itself from the limp lump -which lay in the hollow near the enemy's lines, rose to a standing -position, and beat the air with agitated arms. - -Thus for a moment, then the Thing collapsed in an abject heap on the -ground. - -"That's all," said Bubb. "The boys in the trench are firin' now. They'll -finish 'im off if 'e's not done in already." - -The rifles cracked spitefully in the trench which rimmed the base of the -slag-heap, the sun sank lower and the shadows lengthened. The two -youngsters broke biscuits, gnawed vigorously and waited for the darkness -to fall. - - - - - CHAPTER XIII - - THE TRENCHES - - All the night the frogs go chuckle; all the day the birds are - singing, - In the pond beside the meadow; by the roadway poplar-lined; - In the field between the trenches are a million blossoms - springing - 'Twixt the grass of silver bayonets where the lines of battle - wind; - Where man has manned the trenches for the maiming of his kind. - - (_From "Soldier Songs."_) - - -The trench is a world within itself, having customs, joys and griefs -peculiar to its limitations. The inmates can only claim for the most -part a short existence; they have degrees of opulence and poverty, but -the former is far removed from those who are legally heirs to it, and -all the dwellers in the trench commune share their poverty in common. -The word "ours" is on all lips; save for a few relics of outside -civilisation there is nothing which a man claims as "mine." Food and -drink and clothing are "ours," as also are the parcels from home, though -the men to whom they are addressed have generally the privilege of -opening them. Money has lost all its value: for the time being food is -not sold here, and all men have to work at the same job, and they work -well, for the safety of their bodies depends upon the labour of their -hands. Again, in the carping times of peace a soldier may depend upon -the sweat of others for his daily needs; here in the trenches he is a -Socialist in the highest sense of the much-abused word. - -The life of the Commune is seldom monotonous, its uncertainty makes it -interesting, its novelty never wanes. The trench has its history, every -dug-out a legend, and the shell-riven alleys of war are steeped in -tradition. The narratives of the trench are handed on from regiment to -regiment, a word or two on the firestep while the battalion just going -out changes places with the relieving battalion, and the legend of an -adjacent dug-out is made plain. - -Such scraps of conversation as these may be heard. "That dug-out on the -left got a 'ole in the roof the other night. A time-expired man who was -going off to Blighty the next day went in there and lay down to kip. A -whizz-bang 'it the roof, and the poor bloke went west." - -"The Germans occupied these trenches at one time; the Guards charged -them, and not a man escaped. You'll see their dug-outs all along here." - -"A sniper used to play 'ell with this bay a month ago. 'E used to send -the bullets into the trench. It took the men some time to discover 'im. -Then they got 'im. 'E was up on the top of a chimney-stack in the -village behind the German trench. 'E could see right down the trench. -Our artillery brought the chimney down and the sniper with it." - -So the stories are told and retold, and passed from one set of soldiers -to the next who occupy the trenches. - -No doubt stories become distorted and enlarged in the course of time, -but always there is a grain of truth in the most exaggerated trench -story; and every tale gives an added interest and a subtle touch of -romance to the locality. The mean, primitive trench, the home of the -Brown Brethren, is not without certain features of grandeur, and an -atmosphere of mystery pervades the whole place, due, no doubt, to its -close association with death. - -It was yet dark in the trenches of the Cologne sector, a much be-shelled -locality on Vimy Ridge, but a faint subdued flush showed on the Eastern -sky far away behind the enemy's line. Stars were twinkling coldly clear -overhead and a keen wind rustled along the floor of the trench. Vague -mutterings and rumblings could be heard in the dug-outs; the men already -warned to stand to arms on the banquette were snatching a few moments' -extra repose; hugging with miserly desire at an additional minute's -rest. Sergeant Snogger came running along the trench shouting. "Stand -to! Stand to!" he called. There was no particular hurry for the sector -was then a comparatively quiet one. But the sergeant merely ran because -a brisk race was a most effective means of driving away the sleepy -feeling which was fostered by the narcotic odours of the dug-out. - -The men turned out yawning and swearing, then broke into a brisk run -round a near traverse and back again to their posts by the -dew-besprinkled bayonets. One man looked across the parapet, fixed an -indifferent eye on the Ridge, then burst into a rag-time chorus which a -mate took up with vigour. - -The Zouave Wood, the shell-scarred spinney where the trees were flung -broadcast by high concussion shells, lay on the left, wrapped in shadow -and hiding many mysteries. In it was many a little grave where the -kindly earth covered friend and foe alike. It was a place of many -secrets, of strange and vague whispering. There, in the dawn, the -spirits of the dead men seemed to hold converse. But by day the earth -could not hide them, the weapons of the quick dug them again from the -graves and flung them out on the riven spaces of the restless earth. - -The air was cold and keen. The men covered their chins with the collars -of their khaki coats, lit their cigarettes and leant against the -parapet. They dozed for a moment and then woke guiltily with a start. -Nobody had noticed them, they dozed again.... The east flushed crimson, -the German trench to the left showed dark against the glow and stood out -distinctly. A sniper's bullet ripped a sandbag and a shower of fine -white dust dropped into the trench. No one paid any heed.... The birds -were out hopping from prop to prop of the barbed wire entanglements. A -lark soared into air pouring out an ecstatic song.... The dead men on -the levels could now be seen lying close to the earth in limp and -ghastly attitudes, the birds singing above them.... The sun was up; a -million dewdrops sparkled in a glorious jewelled disarray on the -wires.... The field had taken on a greener hue and in many places the -daisies peeped timidly up from the soft grasses.... A white mist circled -round the spinney and the gashes in the trees became more distinct. -Looking southwards down on to the level lands one could see the Double -Crassier tailing out on one side to the village of Loos and on the other -side to the mining hamlet of Maroc.... Away down on the left, twelve -kilometres away, lay Lens with its many chimneys, and a number of the -chimneys smoking. The enemy were probably working the mines. The -terra-cotta houses stood out very distinct and seemed nearer to us than -they really were. The air was very clear and a perfect flood of -brilliant sunshine lit the town, the enemy's trench and the dead men -lying out on the field. - -The order to stand down had long since been given and the men were now -busy preparing their breakfasts. Braziers were alight in the dug-outs -and the red glow of flaming coke stood out in vivid contrast to the dark -interiors. Little wreaths of pale smoke curled up over the trench and -the air was full of the odour of frying bacon. Spudhole was frying his -bread in the grease and to judge by the expression on his face he was -very interested in his work. Nothing else seemed to trouble him. The -sniper's bullet hit the sandbag again and a spurt of chalk was whisked -into the frying-pan. The youth looked up, obviously annoyed, and swore -whole-heartedly; then he bent to his work again. - -Breakfast ready, Bubb, Bowdy and Flanagan sat on the fire-step and ate. - -"I've an appetite like the war Casualty List," said Flanagan. "It's -always crying for 'More! More!' and is never satisfied. It's almost as -bad as Bubb when he came back from hospital." - -"I'd ravver be 'ere than in the 'orsp," said Bubb. "This breakfast is -not to be larfed at." - -The fare was indeed excellent and every man did it justice. Each had a -mess-tin of tea, a thick slice of buttered bread and a rasher of bacon. -Tongues were loosened and the talk became general for there were so many -things to talk about. The week-old papers which came by last night's -post were read and comments passed on the contents. A full page -advertisement in a leading daily came in for a fair share of sarcasm. -This advertisement told of the virtues of a wonderful beauty cream just -discovered. It gave a most delightfully delicate pink flush to the skin -and took away the effects of twenty or thirty years' wear from a woman's -face. It was the talk of London. All the society women were using it. -Lady So-and-So said so-and-so about it; the celebrated actress A---- -vowed that it was the one thing which England had waited for since the -early part of the last century, etc. - -"For my own part I wish they invented some-thin' to take away the -crawlers off my clothes," Spudhole remarked as he finished his tea. "I'm -goin' to 'ave a coot." - -He got to his feet, took off his tunic and donned his equipment over his -shirt. Bowdy went into the dug-out to have a few hours' sleep; Flanagan -sat down on the fire-step and lit a cigarette. - -"It's getting quite hot, Spudhole," he said. - -"'Ot as 'ell," Spudhole replied. - -At that moment a shell burst amidst the poppy flowers on the open in -front of the sector and Spudhole, who was making his way towards the -dug-out door clapped his hand to his neck and exclaimed: "I've copped -one this time; it's givin' me gyp!" - -Flanagan shouted "Stretcher bearers!" Then he turned to help his mate -but even as he did so he felt a sudden penetrating pain pierce his own -chin, and the wasp which was responsible for the sting flew off to a -safe distance and poised itself in the air over the dug-out. Fitzgerald, -knowing that it was contemplating another attack, prepared to retreat. - -"It's wasps, Spudhole!" he yelled. "We'll clear off round the corner." - -But before they moved Bowdy Benners rushed out of the dug-out, festooned -with angry wasps. - -"Good God!" he yelled, striking out with both hands. "I'm stung to -death. My pillow was a nest of the swine! Git out, you vermin!... Got -that one! Did I? He's stung my finger.... Oh! blast!..." - -The three retreated at the double round the traverse and into the next -bay. The occupants were just sitting down to breakfast, a good -breakfast, for the post had come and parcels were bulky. - -"Wot the blazes is this?" one of them exclaimed as the crush of men -rounded the corner waving their arms about their heads. "These 'ere -blokes are working their tickets, I suppose!" - -He finished his remark with a yell, for an enterprising wasp had flown -the rout and stung the speaker on the nose. Then the insect made the -round of the breakfast party. A few fled instantly and escaped, others -took to their heels at the first sting, but the man who waited to pick -up the sultana cake and the tin of sardines had all the colours of a -Board School map on his face for weeks afterwards. - -A narrow, crooked trench infested by furious wasps is not a healthy -locality. The insects outmanoeuvred the soldiers at every turn. The men -turned the third buttress feeling that they had escaped their -persecutors only to find that the insects had crossed the top of the -traverse and were in waiting round the corner. As a man runs a trench is -a weary pathway, as a wasp flies it presents no difficulties. - -The place was in an uproar. The wasps had attacked on both sides, some -drove the men left, others flew after them on the right. In every bay -their numbers seemed to have increased; at the traverse turning the -soldiers eluded them for a moment only to encounter them in the next -bay. A number of men sought safety in the dugouts; the wasps followed -and drove them out into the perilous trench again. When the first -officer was met he stood for a moment with one foot in the trench, one -on the firestep, and stared in astonishment. His wonderment was -short-lived. A wasp announced itself when it alighted on his ear, and -immediately the subaltern became one with the rout. - -Spudhole was now wounded in several places. The morning had been fine, -and like the rest of his mates, he was in shirt-sleeves fighting order. - -"I've copped a sting again," he yelled. "That's umpty eleven times. I -always said that I didn't 'old with a war like this un. Bombs and -bullets, whizz-bangs and pip-squeaks and now these 'ere God-forsaken -wopses.... That's anuver one, a blurry Boche. 'E sniped me from the rim -of me cap.... God! Platoons of 'em.... Oh! damn! That un took me at the -rear where I should 'ave a patch on me trousers...." - -Again a bay was entered where another merry party was sitting down to -breakfast; a gargantuan spread of fried bacon, toast and trench tea. A -platoon officer was sharing in the meal. He was a stout good-natured man -with a bald head, baby-pink and shiny. The advance party of wasps could -not miss the head; the pests came to a halt on it, and being nasty, they -stung when they alighted. The officer yelled several words which the men -had never noticed in his vocabulary before. Groping frantically for his -hat, which, as often happens in a crisis, was nowhere to be found, he -overturned the brazier, the toast-rack, and several canteens of tea, -scalding the feet of a number of men who were seated on the firestep.... -The soldiers were up in an instant and raced off along the trench. -Rifles, equipment and ammunition were flung down on the floor and -trampled into the clay and rubble. - -At this point, Spudhole was seized with a happy thought. A newspaper had -fallen on the fire and was bursting into flame. Spudhole, seizing the -lighted paper, held it close to his face and kept the wasps away for a -moment. - -"But wot is the good of it," he grumbled as the flames died down. "I'm -getting stung be'ind and burned in front. I'm off!" and, throwing the -paper down, he fled. - -Struggling, shoving and waving their arms about, the men hustled along -the narrow alley. Two soldiers scrambled up over the top out into the -open, but, being seen by the enemy, a brisk rifle fire was opened on -them and they fled back into their wasp-infested shelter again. - -At this point Sergeant Snogger was heard. Seeing two men rushing out -into the open field waving their arms over their heads, he stared at -them open-mouthed and rubbed his eyes with both hands. A hidden sniper -had been potting at the parapet for days!... The action was not in -keeping with trench discipline; in fact if the men did not return -immediately they'd "be damned unlucky!" - -"Back! Ye fools, come back!" he yelled. "Wot the blazes--was that!" - -The wasp swept past his face like a spent bullet, swung back again and -stung him on the forehead. A second caught him on the neck, a third on -the arm. He turned and ran. - -For Flanagan, he was unlucky enough to have his puttees off when the -stampede started, and in a few moments a wasp had got up the leg of his -trousers. It stung him half-a-dozen times before he squashed it to -pulp.... - -What happened when the Irish rushed into a Highland regiment on the -right must be left to the reader's imagination. Never before had the -Gael been so conscious of the nakedness of his knees. He gave vent to -his wrath in vehement words and it was found difficult to ascertain -whether his anger was directed against the wasps or the men who were -responsible for their coming. - -Was it at the hundredth traverse or the thousandth that the effectives -of the besetting force lost an appreciable amount of intensity? That was -a matter for conjecture, but this alone is known. A jar of marmalade -which got overthrown in a bay enticed the insects, and many stopped to -feast on the disbanded treasure. But a few followed with unabated -ardour; these were counter-attacked and destroyed, and afterwards the -soldiers bombed the "Bay of the Broken Jar" with a certain amount of -success. - -The Irish strode back defiant and alert, ready for anything. But the -wasps gave no further trouble; here and there one or two were seen -poised in air over a line of sandbags, but these fled at the approach of -the men. - -The dug-out in which they had originally entrenched was left in complete -seclusion for the rest of the day, and at night Bowdy and his two mates -approached the place in slow, methodical order. They found the wasps' -nest in a corner of the wall and poured two mess-tins of boiling water -on it. A third mess-tin remained but it was not needed. - -"We'll 'ave a drop of char now," said Bubb. "The evenin's gettin' cold -now and we want somefing 'ot." - -"Righto!" said Bowdy. "I'll light a fire in here now that the wasps are -gone." - -He lit a fire, boiled the water and made the tea. Outside a sniper was -potting at the roof of the dug-out. He had been sniping all day, from -where, none could determine. - -"Wonder what he's doing it for," Bowdy asked as he sat down and reached -for the mess-tin which was bubbling merrily on the brazier. "He'll never -pot one of us." - -Even as he touched the mess-tin a bullet ricochetted off the parapet -outside, hissed into the dug-out and pierced the bottom of the mess-tin. -The tea poured out and extinguished the fire. - -"Well, that's past a joke," Bowdy muttered. "Blow me blind if I'm not -going out to-night to let daylight through that boundering Boche." - - - - - CHAPTER XIV - - THE SNIPER - - I'll teach you, you bounder, to snipe, - For I'm nosing around, - With my face to the ground, - And a round in the breach of my hipe. - You'd best keep a blurry look-out, - For there's no end of trouble about-- - With a round in the breach, - I am going to teach - You, you impudent sniper, to snipe. - - (_From "The Deadly Breach."_) - - -Having blackened his face with a burnt cork, Bowdy Benners fixed his -sword on his rifle and clambered over the parapet into No Man's Land. -The hour was midnight; the darkness had settled on the firing line and -the starshells were rioting in the skies. Although the day had been hot -and bright the sky was now covered with clouds, not a star was visible -and objects quite near at hand could scarcely be distinguished. The air -was warm and still and not a blade of grass was moving. The only sound -which Bowdy Benners could hear was the dull rustle of his own clothes as -he crawled across the level ground on all fours making his way towards -the German lines. - -Bowdy was out on a great project, an adventure after his own heart. For -many days the German had been potting at Cologne sector, but none had -been able to locate the position of the sniper. One thing, however, was -evident: he was stationed somewhere in No Man's Land. The German -trenches were hidden behind a hillock and the English trenches were -immune from observation from that quarter. - -Bowdy crawled carefully forward, his eyes alert and his ears strained -for any untoward sound. Now and again a flash would light up the levels -in front and he could hear a bullet sing past his ears towards the -sector which he had just left. But the flash was deceptive and lights -were very misleading in the darkness. The sniper took care to fire only -when a starshell held the sky above him. In this way, the flash of the -rifle, merging as it did into the flare of the starshell, could hardly -lay claim to a separate existence. - -"I'm not going to find him," muttered Bowdy Benners under his breath. -"It's like looking for a needle in.... Blimey! That was a near go." - -A bullet swept past Bowdy's head with such a vicious hiss that he put up -his hand to feel if it had touched him. But he was unharmed. - -"Blow me blind!" he muttered, and crawled forward hurriedly. "Blow me -stone blind if that wasn't a near go. The bounder can't see me," he -thought. "I haven't blackened my face for nothing." - -He continued crawling stealthily on his stomach, dragging his rifle -after him. Every movement was made softly, but to Benners the sound of -his trousers rubbing on the grass seemed to carry out as far as the -German trenches. Now and again, as he lay still and stared at the level -in front, he thought he could discern something moving. Then he would -remain absolutely motionless for a few minutes, listening and watching. -But all was quiet; nothing to be heard save the wind rustling and a -stray mouse running through a little clump of bracken ahead. - -The sniper had become very quiet now; his rifle had not spoken for -several minutes. - -"He'll be having a kip," Bowdy thought, and got to his feet. - -The long crawl had made his knees sore and his feet felt numb. Standing -upright, he placed his rifle between his knees and stretched his arms. -The light of the last starshell had died away, the circle of horizon had -grown smaller and in the near distance objects stood out weirdly -silhouetted with a blurred, though definite outline. It was then that -several starshells went up together and the open was lit with the -brilliance of day. In the glaring light Benners saw the sniper. He was -standing barely a dozen yards away, his hand resting on his rifle. -Benners could see that he had his sword fixed and the steel shone -brightly. - -"I'll make him a prisoner," Benners said in a loud voice, and made at -the man as a hawk swoops on a lark. - -The sniper heard Benners approach, turned his eyes and sprang up to a -position of defence. - -"Has he a round in the breech?" Benners asked himself. "Shall I fire at -him or not?" - -Even as he approached, Bowdy saw the German raise his rifle to his -shoulder and a sharp report rang out. Bowdy blinked at the flash, but -the bullet went wide. - -"I'll settle you," he said in a loud voice, and, rushing up, he thrust -his bayonet forward. The sniper parried it and for a moment there was a -brisk duel, then Bowdy saw an opening for a left point, a favourite of -his, which had never failed. Now, however, it did not work. The sniper -stepped to the right; by a deft move brought his own bayonet point -downwards to the ground and Bowdy tripped across it in the rush forward -and went to earth. - -"Blow me blind!" muttered Bowdy as he fell, and made a wild effort to -secure his own rifle which had slipped out of his hands. But in this he -was unsuccessful; the darkness had fallen and the weapon had -disappeared. No doubt it was lying quite near, but there was little time -at Bowdy's command to scrutinise the field around him. - -One hope, however, remained. As Bowdy fell his legs had managed to close -around the German's rifle and the barrel of the weapon was held in a -vice-like grip. Bowdy was the strongest man in the regiment; he was a -grand man on the march, and on the mat a wrestler second to none. On -march or mat he had no equal. He held the rifle taut for a moment, and -in war the moment is often of supreme importance. As the German -endeavoured to pull the bayonet clear, Bowdy let go his hold, got to his -feet and gripped the man by the shoulders. For a second both wrestled -fiercely and as they panted and strained the weapon dropped to the -ground. Neither bent to lift it. A starshell rose into the heavens and -the Englishman had a clear view of the sniper. He could see that he was -deep-chested, unshapely, bearded.... - -He glared at Benners with malignant eyes, and his lips twisted into a -snarl that almost reached his heavy brows. "You haf no chance with me," -he grunted. "I am wrestler on English music halls." Then, with a yell, -he struck out with both fists for Benners' head, and Bowdy, wise with -the wisdom born of a thousand aching contests, ducked and dodged, just -in time to evade the blow to the head and the kick which the sniper -aimed for his stomach. Followed a mad tussle of flying fists and swiftly -moving bodies. Then came an instant's lull, and the fighters clutched -one another in a tense embrace; Benners' hand resting on the sniper's -face, the sniper's fist on Benners' stomach. - -Breaking from the clinch, Benners stepped backwards only to return again -with a heavy left-handed blow which took his opponent full on the jowl; -the German never winced. - -"A damned professional wrestler!" muttered Benners and instinctively he -knew that he had met a man who would take any amount of beating. - -Benners crouched, his left foot a trifle advanced; his head drawn down -well between his shoulders and shielded by one of his hands. The other -hand covered his stomach. The sniper paused irresolute for a moment, -then, with tiger-like fury, he swung into his man, striking out rapidly -with both fists. Guarding his body carefully, Benners waited, ready for -an opening, and when he saw his way he drove heavily with both hands for -the sniper's mouth. The two blows went home; the German stepped back -several paces, his mouth dripping with blood. Both had now forgotten -about their bayonets.... Rage took possession of the sniper, a terrible, -murderous rage, and he was upon Benners, striking out with his knees, -fists and boots. Benners crouched, holding his body compactly together -and covered his face and stomach with his hands. For two minutes he -struggled to endure. His enemy was well-nigh resistless, and all the -rage and cunning of the tiger were loose in the man. Benners went to the -ground and was twice kicked as he curled over in an endeavour to rise, -but seizing a chance he gripped his opponent's ankle, and brought him -heavily to the ground. - -They fastened on to one another as they lay and still in embrace they -got to their feet. As they stood Bowdy got his hand free and hit the -sniper across the mouth. As if by mutual consent they broke apart and -the sniper devoted the fraction of a second to wipe his mouth. Then he -rushed in again and Benners backed round to save himself from a furious -onslaught of stinging blows. The German, vital and overwhelming, seemed -to be in his element. All the essence of passion, hate and elemental -madness found expression in this onslaught. Thrice a twelve yard circle -of ground was covered, Bowdy fighting gamely but ever giving backwards. -His body and face were now covered with blood; and his hands went up, -not in battle, but almost in mute protest against a crushing fatalism. -The terrible charges of the sniper, the lightning thrusts of the man's -fists were wearing Bowdy down. Suddenly the German, over-confident, -struck out for his opponent's head, leaving his stomach unguarded, and -Bowdy saw his chance and took it. A heavy swing of his left fist landed -on the space between the ribs that fork outwards from the breastbone, -and the sniper curled up and dropped like a wet rag to the ground. Bowdy -fell beside him and the two men lay together, quiet as sleeping -children. - -Bowdy turned over on his back and breathed deeply for a space, then -stumbled to his feet. - -"I wish I had my bayonet," he muttered, rubbing his hand over his brow. -"It's a fight between two of us, a fight to death.... By God! he can -fight, too. But no wonder; he's a wrestler. And I feel done up." - -Bowdy felt very weary. His head was spinning and he had great difficulty -in standing upright. He had one consolation, however. The sniper was in -as bad a state as he was. He looked down with vague eyes at the man and -saw that he was recovering from his blow and the fighting devil was -still strong within him. Groping his way to his feet, the sniper assumed -an attitude of defence. - -"Come on!" said Bowdy in an energetic tone. "I have no time to waste and -I cannot strike ye when ye're sickly like that. Man! Ye should be -ashamed of yerself. Fighter indeed!" - -"English pig-dog" grunted the sniper and sweltering into a tornado of -incoherent threats which the Englishman could not understand, he swept -Bowdy round in a ring and landed lightning blows several times in quick -succession. All the man's enormous vitality seemed to have been -rekindled, a million beasts of prey were loose in his body. Benners, -struggling fiercely in an endeavour to live through the tempest of his -enemy's wrath, groped for a clinch and swept into its embrace. Here he -was safe for a moment and hoped that the German would consume his -strength. In this anticipated waste of the opponent's strength lay -Benners' hope of success. Leaning his chin on the German's shoulder he -had a moment to look round. - -Unreality and ghostliness lay over No Man's Land and an uncanny -atmosphere settled on the levels. Away down by Loos a bombardment had -commenced and the red flashes of the guns lit up the restless salient. -Near at hand could be seen a barbed wire entanglement, probably the -enemy's. - -Benners saw the flashes of the shells and asked himself what the time -was. He felt that he had been fighting for hours and it appeared to him -that he could never get the business to an end. The sniper seemed -stronger than ever now; the man was surging with life and mad with -hatred. He was a fiend, incarnate, terrible. Bowdy wondered vaguely as -he snuggled his head over the sniper's shoulders if the man was tired, -if he felt that the contest had lasted long enough. - -As in answer to the unspoken thought, the German ducked and caught his -man by the ankles and tried to raise him to his shoulders. Vaguely it -drifted into Benners' mind that the German intended to throw him head -foremost into the wires and he shuddered slightly and bent to resist the -efforts which his opponent made to grip him. - -For fully ten minutes both men swayed unsteadily as Benners disputed -every inch of the ground on the way towards the entanglement. The sniper -was irresistible, and step by step he urged his man nearer and nearer to -the horrible barbs. Bowdy now knew what the man's intentions were and he -summoned up all his strength. The blood from a gashed eyebrow was -blinding him, but instinctively he did his utmost to press forward in an -opposite way to that by which the sniper was taking him. Clutching and -straining, he resisted gamely until suddenly he felt himself lifted -clean from the ground and resting on the German's shoulders. There was a -hurried rush towards the wires, the sniper holding on with all his -strength and Bowdy struggling to break free. One of his hands stretched -over the German's shoulders and Bowdy closed his fist and began to thump -the man on the back. With a yell of rage, the sniper bent down, then -straightened his back quickly and flung Bowdy from him. But he had -miscalculated his throw and Bowdy, landing on his feet, had escaped from -the danger that threatened him. But only for a moment. His man was upon -him again and the Englishman was flung with a crash into the barbed -contraption of war. Bowdy was up in a flash; his clothes torn and his -body aching, and he was upon the sniper striking out fiercely for his -stomach, landing four lightning blows. His opponent went down, falling -like a log, and lay still. - -Benners, maimed, sore and bleeding, fixed an imperturbable stare on a -rising starshell and the stare slowly resolved itself into a weary -smile. For fully two minutes he stood thus, silent, with one eye (the -other had been bunged up) fixed on the scene in front, the barbed wire -entanglements, and the enemy's trench which showed clearly, barely -eighty yards away. - -"God, it was a fight!" he muttered. "A damned hard fight. I suppose I -must have a look around for my bayonet now. And a professional wrestler -too." - -At that moment half a dozen dark forms took shape on Bowdy's right. An -enemy patrol probably! Bowdy lay down quietly, rubbed his eyes and -listened. Nothing could be seen now and nothing could be heard save the -deep breathing of the sniper. "I hope he doesn't come to and kick up a -row," said Bowdy in a whisper. "I can't fight a dozen with my fists; one -was enough." - -Something rustled on the ground near him and a head appeared rising over -the dark grass. Then a second head came into view and a third. The men -were crawling towards Bowdy and were now very near. - -Then a voice spoke in a low whisper. - -"Blimey!" it said; "there's nuffink 'ere. I think there's the German -wires." - -"That you, Spudhole?" Benners whispered. - -"Oo's that?" came the answer. "You, Bowdy?" - -"That's right," said Benners, getting to his feet. "Don't make a noise. -Where are you coming to?" - -"We're looking for your body," said Spudhole, standing upright. "Gawd! -We thought ye wor dead. Wot 'ave ye been doin'?" - -"I've been fighting," said Bowdy. "Had a bit of a row with this man -lying here." - -"'E looks as if 'e's been in the wars," said Snogger, who was leading -the search party. "By Gawd, ye 'ave been knockin' 'im about.... I -suppose we'll 'ave to carry 'im back." - -"Do whatever you like with him," said Bowdy. "I'll not be able to help. -It'll be as much as I can do to carry myself in." - -The party got back to the trench an hour later. The sniper was searched -and in his pockets was found in addition to other things, his own -photograph taken when he had appeared on the English music halls as a -professional wrestler. - -He was carried down to the dressing-station on a stretcher; Bowdy -Benners walked down, and both men were treated by the same M.O. - -A month later Bowdy got a clasp to his D.C.M. - - - - - CHAPTER XV - - TATERS AND VASELINE - - Rations enough to go round; - Rations enough to go round; - Gawd, it's enough! - And it's horrible stuff; - But still there's enough to go round. - - (_From "The Song of the Best Fed Army."_) - - -In the village the houses were fractured by high explosive shells, the -windows were paneless and the doors latchless, chimneys had been hurled -to the ground and pounded to dust. Now in the Summer it was sad to see -the fallen homes of the little people, especially in these days soft -with sunshine, glorious days when men whispered to themselves secretly: -"How good, how very good it is to be alive." The mad vitality of life -exulted itself amidst scenes of demolition and decay; young blood pulsed -warmly, the quick walked through the barren streets of the village, -young men pleased with their vigour and their calling. Man values -existence in haunts where he holds insecure purchase of life. - -A solitary violet peeped coyly out from between two bricks which topped -a heap of rubble by the roadway near the church. The heap of rubble had -once been a home. The cataclysm of continents, the hatred of kings, the -mustering of armies, the thunder of guns, were all needed in the making -of this--a mean little nook on a rubble heap where a modest violet -blossomed. - -Like cats to their accustomed haunts the natives clung to their village -and braved danger and death in preference to exile. But now in the day -of big things the authorities removed the villagers and sent them back -to localities further away from the firing line. - -The villagers left the place without a moan; placid fatalists who had -lived and died midst the thunder of a thousand guns; they accepted the -change mutely and left in silence their native place when ordered to do -so. They took away much of their portable property and left much of it -behind. On the eve of Lammas Day Spudhole Bubb caught two homeless -chickens fluttering despairing wings outside the estaminet La Concorde -in the village. - -"'Ow am I to kill these 'ere h'animals?" he asked Bowdy Benners, who -accompanied him. Bowdy's face still bore the marks of his encounter with -the German sniper. - -"Put a bullet through them," answered Bowdy, looking at the chickens. - -"That'll blow 'em to blazes," said Bubb. - -"Then wring their necks." - -"'Ow?" - -"Like this," said Bowdy getting hold of a water-bottle by the neck and -swinging it round his head. - -"I've a better plan," said Bubb gazing at the door of the estaminet. -"You open that there door and I'll 'old the neck of the 'en against the -jamb. I'll say 'One! two! free!' And at the word 'free' you swings the -door wiv a bang against the post an' you'll snick the neck of a 'en like -winkin'." - -The operation was performed with great success, the chickens were -decapitated and Bubb's thumb was bashed into an ugly purple. - -"That's a go," he muttered. "Not much of a gyme killin' chickens like -this." - -"Not much of a gyme indeed," said Bowdy. "But they'll make a good meal, -these fowl." - -"An' there's a bloomin' dawg too as was left behind," said Bubb, -pointing his finger at the top window of the estaminet. - -It was looking down at the two soldiers, a lean dog with plaintive eyes -and a queer crooning cry which said as plainly as any doggie can say: -"Take me away from this place." - -"Why doesn't it come down the stairs?" asked Bowdy Benners. - -"Why?" said Bubb. "'Cos there ain't no stairs; they've been blown away -by a shell." - -"Then we've got to get the poor thing down," said Bowdy. - -"'Ow?" asked Bubb, then without giving Benners time to answer, he said: -"Oh, I knows 'ow. There's a ladder round the corner. We put it up and -take the beggar down." - -Raising the ladder they placed it against the window sill, clambered up -and rescued the dog which they placed on the street. Then Bowdy and Bubb -went up the ladder again and entered the room. - -"What's that thing under the bed?" asked Bowdy who had noticed a dark -bundle on the ground. - -Bubb peeped under and drew back his head as suddenly as if somebody had -given him a blow on the face. - -"It's a dead bloke," he said. "Let's get out." - -They reached the street to find the dog lying on the pavement wagging -its tail. - -"It's so pleased with us," said Bowdy. "It might have died with hunger -up there." - -"Pleased!" echoed Bubb. "The damned ungrateful swine! Take that, and -that!" - -The two kicks were neatly delivered on the animal's hindquarters and it -rushed off, howling. - -"Ate our two blurry chickens and us rescuin' 'im. Anyway we've the -taters. We'll get back to the trench and cook 'em." - -"I'll be back as soon as you," said Bowdy. "But I'll run down to Rentoul -and get a bottle of champagne. I've a few francs to spare." - -On reaching the trenches Bubb found Flanagan just finishing a good -dinner of fried potatoes and onions. - -"Blimey, I've taters, lots of 'em and if you give me some h'onions I'll -make myself a bit of a feed," said Bubb to Flanagan. "I do feel empty -inside." - -"Yes, I've got some onions to spare," said Flanagan. "Are you going to -cook now?" - -"I'm goin' to cook now," said Bubb, "but I want some lard or something -greasy for fryin'." - -"Good idea," said Flanagan. - -"What did you fry the taters in?" asked Bubb. - -"Oh, I fried them in--vaseline," was Flanagan's reply. - -"Git out!" - -"Yes, I did." - -"Truth?" - -"Oh, it's quite true," Flanagan lied, "you should try it." - -"So I will," said the simple Bubb, and so he did. He used a whole box of -vaseline, frying his taters on a mess-tin lid placed over a little fire -at the base of a traverse. He ate his portion with great zest, vowing -that he never had had a better repast in all his life. Part of the feed -he kept for Bowdy. - -Flanagan, delighted with the little joke, told Sergeant Snogger how -Spudhole Bubb had used vaseline in frying potatoes. Snogger came up to -Bubb as the latter sat smoking a Woodbine in the corner of the dug-out. - -"Spudhole Bubb," he said, "what's wrong with ye?" - -"Wiv me?" asked Bubb. "There's nuffink wrong wiv me." - -"Ye're lookin' very pale," said Snogger. "I never saw a man look as bad. -Have ye had no dinner?" - -"No dinner!" exclaimed Bubb. "I 'ad the best meal ever I 'ad." - -"It can't have agreed with you," said Snogger. "You look as white as a -ghost." - -The sergeant walked away and Flanagan poked his head through the door. - -"Good God, Bubb!" he exclaimed, "what has happened to you?" - -"'Appened to me!" said Bubb. "Nuffink, man. Wot gyme are yer up to?" - -"No game at all," said Flanagan. "But you look bad. You should go and -see the doctor this evening." - -Bubb looked in the little mirror which he always carried about with him -(he was really a devil for the girls), and he thought that he was -looking white. - -"But I don't feel bad," he said to Flanagan. - -"You mayn't feel bad," said the Irishman, "but by heaven! you look bad. -Is it yer nerves that are givin' way?" - -"I've no nerves," said Bubb. - -Bowdy, who had just returned, was the next to pass a remark on Bubb's -condition. - -"What has happened to you, matey?" he asked. "You look like a dead hen." - -"I'm orl right," said Bubb, but there was a note of concern in his -voice. "I 'ad the best dinner ever I 'ad a moment ago. There's some left -for you." - -"Has it disagreed with you?" asked Bowdy. "What kind of dinner was it?" - -"Taters and h'onions fried in vaseline," was Bubb's reply. "The same -taters that we got...." - -"Vaseline!" Bowdy repeated, "Vaseline! Vaseline!" - -"Wot's wrong wiv vaseline?" Bubb enquired. - -"What's wrong with it, man," said Bowdy, "everything's wrong with it. -Devil blow me blind, it's poison, pure poison. No wonder you're looking -white." - -Bubb cast an imploring look on Bowdy. He was now evidently frightened. - -"I do feel something wrong with me inside," he said. - -"I will see the M.O. this evening." - - * * * * * - -Bubb had a temperature that evening, whether due to fright or the ill -effects of potatoes fried in vaseline it was impossible to say. The -doctor sent him back to the hospital at ----, a shell-stricken town -where the wounded were confined to cellars before going further back -from the firing line. - -Wrapped in blankets, Bubb went to sleep on the floor, and about one -o'clock in the morning he woke up and looked around him. A candle stuck -on the cold ground burned timidly and big black shadows lurked in the -corners of the apartment. Opposite Bubb an R.A.M.C. orderly sat on a -biscuit box dozing, the unlighted stump of a cigarette between his -fingers. Near Bubb another patient lay asleep, his mouth wide open, and -his knees hunched up so that they formed a little hill that dominated -the cold clammy floor of the cellar. - -Spudhole looked up at the roof where the light played in little ghostly -ripples. As he watched, a spider slipped out of a hole directly overhead -and dropped slowly down towards his face. In the half light the spider -looked an immense size and its legs spread out as if endeavouring to -clutch something. Fascinated Bubb watched it draw nearer, nearer, until -it almost touched his face. - -"Git out ye lobster!" - -He raised his hand as he spoke and aimed a blow at the insect and -missed. The spider clambered up again and disappeared. - -"Blast the bloomin' thing!" he muttered and turned on his side. "Oh, -blimey!... Good mornin'!" - -A large toad was sitting on the corner of his blanket, a mere hand's -breadth away, and looking at him with a pair of big glistening eyes. For -a moment the man and the toad looked fixedly at one another, then the -toad hopped away and disappeared round the corner of the bed. - -"Well, blimey," said Bubb, cuddling up in the clothes and trying to -sleep. He was unsuccessful for his mind followed the toad. "Where 'as it -gone?" he muttered. "Spiders as big as lobsters, and toads as big as -helephants. This 'ere place is 'aunted. Now where 'as that 'ere vermin -gone?" - -He turned round on his side and again his gaze fell on the toad. The -thing had ascended the hill formed by the knees of Bubb's mate, and -there on the eminence it sat, its eyes fixed on the open mouth of the -sleeper. - -"Blimey! It's goin' to jump in," said Bubb. "Raise the foresight a -little you bounder and 'op!... Ten to one that you miss it." - -Moodily contemplative, the toad sat silent, its big shining eyes fixed -on the cavern in front. - -"Jump, you beggar!" yelled Bubb, shouting at the top of his voice. "One -good 'op and you'll score a bull." - -He fell into a paroxysm of mirth; the R.A.M.C. orderly awoke, rubbed his -eyes, lifted the cigarette end which had fallen to the floor, put it in -his mouth, and came across to Bubb. - -"What's amusin' you, chummy?" he asked. - -"The spider and the toad," said Bubb. "A big lobster of a spider and -then the toad. It's tryin' to jump into the man's mouth. Look there! Ten -to one it misses!" - -"That's all right," said the orderly with a bland smile of -understanding. "You just lie down quietly and try and have a little -sleep." - -"But the toad," Bubb remonstrated. "It's just goin' to jump." - -"I know, I know," said the orderly. "I see it myself. But try and -compose yourself, chummy." - -"But, man, it's real," said Bubb sitting up. "Look yourself and you'll -see it. Don't think I'm off my napper." - -"I don't think anything of the sort," said the orderly still smiling. "I -often see things 'ere, myself. You lie down again and you'll be as right -as rain in the morning." - -He put his fingers on Bubb's pulse, held them there for a moment, then -pressed the boy gently back into the blankets. - -"I tell you there's a toad," said Bubb, struggling to get up again. -"Look at that man lyin' there and see the toad on 'is knees. It's goin' -to 'op into the bloke's mouth in a minute." - -To humour the patient, the orderly looked as he was directed and sure -enough there was the toad, a real one, not a phantom originating from -the disordered imagination of a sick man, perched on the knees of the -sleeping patient. - -"So there is," said the orderly. "I thought you were delirious, matey. -Well, we'll put the thing out," he said and shoved it off the blanket on -to the floor. - -"Ye're not a sport," said Bubb and his voice was charged with contempt. -"Why didn't you let it 'op? I was bettin' on it. Now my bloomin' toad -'as gone. Bet yer it'll not come in again either," said Bubb sadly. - -"I'll bet you it doesn't," said the orderly, but in a different tone. - -Bubb returned to his regiment three days later, a healthy and wiser man. -Afterwards he would never take part in a conversation wherein vaseline -was mentioned, but the sight of a frog always brought memories of toads -to his mind, and all conversation had to be cut dead until Bubb had -narrated for the hundredth time the tale of a toad in a cellar. - - - - - CHAPTER XVI - - THE ROOKY - - What awaits you, boy, out yonder, where the great guns rip - and thunder, - There's a menace in their message, guns that called you - from afar, - But where'er your fortune guide you may no woe or ill - betide you-- - Heaven speed you, little soldier, gaily going to the war. - - (_From "Soldier Songs."_) - - -The stifling heat of the summer day had given place to the coolness of -night and a big moon rode gallantly amidst the stars of the dark blue -eastern sky. A searchlight felt the country with a long, pale arm, -lighting up the road, village and wood for miles around; a galaxy of -starshells stood over the firing line where the meteoric flashes of -bursting shells rioted along the horizon of war. - -Back in a village by La Bassée canal lights shone in the windows of -houses and through the chinks of shutters. The poplars which lined the -village streets showed black and solitary against the red-brick -cottages, their shadows stretched straight along the pavement spreading -out to an intricate tracery of tremulous boughs which moved backwards -and forwards as the soft night breeze caught them.... The moonlight -rippled over the roofs, the walls, and the grey, dusty road; the canal -lapped sleepily against its banks; soldiers walked up and down the -streets smoking, laughing and chatting; women came out from the cottages -bearing pails which they placed under the pumps and filled with water. -All was peaceful here, only twice had the village been struck by shells -and then the roofs of two houses had been shattered. In twenty-four -hours, however, the willing hands of the villagers had made the roofs -whole again. - -In the attic of a dwelling that stood by the riverside, a party of -soldiers, three in all, were billeted. The boys were in a gay, good -humour, for the day had been pay day and two bottles of champagne had -been bought and the second bottle had just been opened. - -Bowdy Benners was there, sitting on a bundle of straw under the niche in -which a candle was placed, surveying the newly-drawn cork with a lazy -smile, his hands under his thighs and his short, powerful legs stretched -out in front to their fullest extent. He was dressed in shirt, trousers -and socks, his braces were tied round his waist, his hairy chest was -bare, and his identity disc tied round his massive neck with a piece of -twine was almost hidden in the hair. - -Opposite him sat Harry Bubb, nothing the worse after his tater and -vaseline meal. A bright sparkle was in his alert eyes, his legs were -crossed and the fingers of his left hand kept strumming idly on the -floor. His right hand gripped a mess-tin which he pushed towards the -champagne bottle in a slow, guileless manner as if he was doing it -knowingly. - -Flanagan was there, stripped to the waist and rubbing his body with a -towel. He had been out through the village and had just come back, -sweating profusely. He had eaten at a café round the corner and made a -study of "the movements of masticating jaws" as he expressed it. - -"It's damned interesting to watch people eat," he said. "Some eat slowly -as if deliberating whether they should swallow the food or spit it out, -some eat quickly, trippingly as it were, and some gorge. Those who eat -slowly keep their mouths shut, those who eat quickly show their teeth -all the time, and those who gorge simply gorge. We were sitting at a -long table and I was at the end of the seat. I had a look along the line -of moving jaws rising and falling, at the man next to me having a -canter...." - -"A canter?" queried Bubb. - -"Yes, a canter round his teeth with his tongue," said Flanagan; "and at -the man opposite whose moving jaw shook his ears until I thought they -would fall off!" - -Flanagan got no further with his chatter. The door opened, Sergeant -Snogger entered followed by a stranger, and glanced keenly about him. - -"Watch that candle," he said; "it will fall down on the straw and burn -the whole damned place out if you are not careful. And that window, what -about it? The light's showing froo and you'll have a shell across 'ere -if you're not careful. You're not at 'ome now, boys." - -"'Aven't been in Blighty for eighteen months, sarg," said Bubb blandly. - -"I've got a new mate for you fellows," said the sergeant, paying no heed -to Bubb's remark. "'E 'as just come out an 'e's for this 'ere -section.... And another thing," he said, "I s'pose you think yourselves -lucky gettin' your pay to-day and gettin' a good night's sleep to-night -after fillin' your guts with grub and fizz. Don't you, now?" - -"Yes, of course," Bubb assented. - -"Well, you're damned unlucky," said the sergeant. "We've got ter go up -ter the trenches ter-night." - -"Blimey!" "Damn!" "Curse it!" Three voices yelled. - -"We're startin' off as soon as we can, so get ready," said the sergeant. -"Every man wipe 'is wifle wiv a woily wag 'fore 'e goes, for 'e may need -it 'fore 'e comes back.... Buck to when you give me a wet and get -ready." - -They gave the sergeant a drink and started to pack up their things. Only -when they had finished and sat down to wait for the call to move had -they time to pay any attention to the new mate, the boy who had just -come out from home. - -He had helped them at the making up of their kits, oiled their rifles -and rushed out to the baker's shop near at hand and bought two loaves to -take up to the trenches. When he returned, the others were sitting on -the floor waiting for him. - -He came in with a brisk step, placed the loaves on the floor and looked -at his mates. In carriage he had a certain individual grace, and his -face, good-looking and youthful, wore an expression of intense -expectation. A traveller within sight of a long-sought objective might -look as that boy did. His age might be about nineteen, he looked -seventeen. When he saw the men looking at him, he smiled awkwardly and -blushed as if he had been found guilty of a mean action. - -"Well, wot d'yer fink of it?" asked Bubb. - -"Of this place?" asked the boy. - -"No, not of this place, but the 'ole blurry business," said Bubb; "o' -this 'ere war." - -"I don't know what to think of the war, but I love being out here," said -the boy, putting his hand in his pocket and bringing out a packet of -cigarettes. "I couldn't get out before; my mother spoke to the -authorities back in England, and I couldn't get away until I was -nineteen." - -"And ye're glad to be out 'ere?" asked Bubb in an incredulous voice, -then added: "Of course you are. I was dyin' ter get out 'ere myself.... -But I know where I'd like ter get now.... Thanks, matey." - -Spudhole put the cigarette in his mouth and the newcomer lit it with a -match. He gave the others cigarettes also and lit the last three with -the same match; the stranger was the third smoker. This was not -discovered until it was done. - -"Devil blow me blind!" exclaimed Bowdy Benners. "He lit his cig----" -Then he stopped, and a moment's silence ensued. - -"It's always unlucky," said Spudhole. "D'ye mind old Stumpy...." - -"Hold your row, you old woman!" Benners exclaimed. - -"The superstition is a modern one," said Flanagan, blowing the smoke of -a cigarette through his nostrils. "Invented, I suppose, by Bryant and -May's to increase the output of matches." - -"But wot about old Stumpy?" asked Bubb. - -"Stumpy be damned!" exclaimed Benners, who was seldom moved to such a -state of excitement. "Hold your jaw, Spudhole." - -"So we're going up to the trenches to-night," said the newcomer in an -eager voice. - -"Yes, we're going up," said Flanagan moodily. "It's always going up. I -suppose you'll be quite pleased going into action for the first time." - -"Delighted," said the boy, and his hearers chuckled at the frank -admission. - -"It's young blood and not knowin' things that makes you say that," said -Bubb, shaking his head with an air of wisdom at which his mates would -have laughed if their rest had been assured for another week. But now as -they sat there waiting for the signal to move up to the fighting line -which they knew so well, it was a different matter.... - -The talk turned to England; the newcomer, whose name was Frank Reynolds, -had much to tell about home, his people, his life at school, and above -all, about his life in the Army. He was the only child of a head clerk -in a London Bank, his father had died recently, and now only the mother -remained at home. She lived in Hampstead, and was rather well to do, -having money left to her by a rich relative. She was very fond of her -boy and would send him parcels twice a week. - -"No cigarettes, though," said Reynolds. "She doesn't know that I smoke, -and I daren't tell. It would hurt her.... I learned to smoke since I -joined the Army; just about three cigarettes a day." - -"I could smoke that many when drinking my tea," said Bubb. - -Conversation ceased at that moment, for the whistle was blown in the -street and the soldiers were forming up preparatory to moving off to the -trenches. - -The battalion set off and marched along the road by the river, company -after company, with little connecting files in between. Not the -slightest breeze was awake, the river was silent, and the tall, graceful -poplars which lined their route looked blacker and straighter than -usual. They seemed to have gone to sleep even as they stood. The whole -world was in repose, the battalion's movement was a sacrilege against -the gods of the still night. - -The very trenches were quiet now, the artillery riot had died down and -only a few starshells rose into the mysterious heights of the eastern -sky. The company in front set up a brisk pace which required long, quick -strides to follow. Benners' section turned off from the river and -marched up a steep incline to the top of a low hill opening out on a -wide, far-reaching plain, which under the pale moonlight, looked more -immense, and merged as it seemed into the distant sky. - -Here and there a tall chimney stack stood high in air, dark shadows -clinging to its base in startling contrast to the moonlight which -rippled like molten silver over the top. A thin, white mist trailed -across the meadows in long, formless streaks, bunching in the hollows -and breaking away on the open. The air was full of the smell of water -and mist and growing grass, in short, of the atmosphere of a summer -night. - -Smoking was not allowed. The enemy's trenches, miles away though they -were, looked down on the road, and the glowing cigarette ends might be -noticed. Then the road would be shelled.... - -Spudhole and Reynolds marched side by side, with Flanagan and Bowdy -Benners immediately in front. From time to time they spoke of one thing -and another, more especially about their hard luck in not getting a -month's rest which had been promised to them for some time. They had -expected to go back on the following morning, but instead it looked as -if they were going to spend the morrow and a few other morrows in the -trenches. - -"Just our luck," said Flanagan. "It's always the same, always and -eternally the same damned grind." - -"Why do they send up green lights?" asked Reynolds in a whisper, and -added, "They do look pretty." - -"Pretty!" laughed Bubb. "If you was up in the trenches now you'd 'ear -some pretty langwidge. They're signals for the artillery to bust up a -dug-out or two, them green lights." - -"Who's sending them up?" asked Reynolds. - -"Us, maybe," said Bubb, "and again maybe it's not us. No one ever knows -wot's wot in this 'ere job. It's always a muddle." - -"But it's quiet enough now," said Reynolds. "How far are we from the -trenches?" - -"About three miles." - -The battalion entered a village and marched up a wide street towards the -full moon. The companies in front looked like dark, compact, heavy -masses which did not seem to move but which could not be overtaken. A -pump on the pavement was running and the water glittered like burnished -silver as it fell to the cobbles. A shutter hung loose on a window and a -woman came out and tried to fasten it, moving quietly as if afraid to -make a noise. Reynolds was surprised to find a woman up so late; it was -almost midnight now.... - -"This place is quiet enough," said Reynolds, speaking to Bubb. "One -wouldn't think that the place was so near the trenches.... Do they ever -fire at this village?" - -"Sometimes," said Bubb, "at the other end. There!" - -The deep, bass note of a bursting explosive swept through the village, -awaking myriad long-drawn echoes, and died away. - -"Shelling in front," said Flanagan in a trenchant whisper. - -"I hope it's not the road," said Bubb. - -"I don't think it's the road," said Bowdy Benners. "It sounded to the -left a bit. But you can't tell with the echoes." - -But further conversation was then impossible; the battalion formed into -two files and plodded ahead.... Round the next corner Frank Reynolds -came in touch with the war. A limber lay in the middle of the street -shattered to pieces, the two ponies and the driver dead, and a sluggish -trail of something dark crawling away from the scene of the wreck. -Instinctively the boy knew that he was looking on blood and a queer -sensation gripped the pit of his stomach. At the same moment he thought -of the woman who was trying to close the shutters two hundred yards away -and a feeling of shame swept through his heart. - -"Am I afraid?" he asked himself. "And a woman going on with her work -beside me just as if nothing was happening." - -The R.A.M.C. were already at work, not in the vicinity of the limber, -for there all help was useless, but on the pavement under the shadow of -the poplars where four or five men were lying down, wounded and -groaning. - -Here the village had suffered, the houses were crumpled and shattered, -the tiles had been flung off the rafters, the walls were smashed, the -trees on the pavement were cut to splinters. Big holes showed in the -streets and over all the ruin and destruction the moon shone calmly and -the stars glimmered. But the atmosphere of the night had changed; a -strange pungent odour filled the air, and Reynolds knew that he was -smelling the battlefield. - -"I must not tell mother about this," he said. "If she knew she couldn't -sleep a wink at night.... I never thought.... I suppose there will be -worse sights" - - - - - CHAPTER XVII - - YOUNG BLOOD - - Over the top is cold, matey; - You lie on the field alone-- - Didn't I love you of old, matey, - Dearer than blood of my own? - You were my dearest chum, matey, - (Gawd, but your face is white) - And now, though reliefs have come, matey, - I'm going alone to-night. - - (_From "Soldier Songs."_) - -At one o'clock in the morning the London Irish were in occupation of the -trenches; the battalion which they had relieved were just moving away. -Reynolds' section were lucky enough to find a dug-out, and here they -threw down their loaves and other luxuries which the Government had not -supplied. - -"Now we must make ourselves as comfortable as we can," said Flanagan as -he lit a cigarette. "I'm for a sleep until it's my turn for sentry." - -Snogger, who came to the dug-out door at that moment, heard the remark -and chuckled. Having some work to do which needed volunteers, he saw -scope for his peculiar type of humour. - -"Goin' to 'ave a kip, Flanagan?" he asked in a gentle voice. "Turnin' in -fer a spell?" - -"Just for a while," said Flanagan; "an hour or two." - -"Well ye're damned unlucky," said the sergeant with a chuckle. "We're -goin' ter raid the henemy's trenches. We want to see what they're doin'. -Indefication purposes ye know. They're too damned quiet 'ere. And you -know when the German is keepin' quiet ye've got to oil yer hipe." - -The section was up and alert in an instant; anticipation flushed every -face. - -"I'm in this 'ere game," said Bubb in a vehement voice. "Larst time I -was out o' it." - -"All's in it, that is, every man in this platoon 'cept them just out," -said the sergeant. "They'll stay 'ere an' mind the 'ouse while we're -away." - -"I'm going out in the raid," said Reynolds in an eager voice. "I want to -be in the fun." - -"Yer do, do yer?" asked the sergeant, scratching his head. "Ye never do -wot ye want in this 'ere crush, my boy," he bellowed. "Ye just do wot I -tell you; an' you'll find that quite enuff, 'fore ye're 'ere very long. -If ye do wot I tell you and do it well ye're all right. I'll make it -easy for you. That's me, Snogger." - -Reynolds lay back against the wall of the dug-out, his fair, youthful -face lit by the glow of the candle which Flanagan had just placed in a -niche of the wall. The boy was bitterly disappointed; the others were -going over the top and he was to be left alone. He opened his lips to -say something and his voice faltered; he was on the verge of tears. - -"Is there any means of getting out with you?" he asked. "Couldn't -somebody stay back and let me go in his place?" - -"The bloke as doesn't want ter go isn't in this 'ere regiment," said -Bubb. - -The sergeant, who had just gone outside, returned carrying a tin filled -with a substance black and soft like soot. - -"Now boys," he said, as he placed the tin on the floor; "cover yer faces -over with this an' be like niggers. A white face can be seen a good -distance on a moonlight night, an' if ye're seen on this 'ere job, it'll -be all up with the party--they'll be damned unlucky. - -"An' when ye've done that, get arf a dozen bombs apiece and bring 'em -wiv you," the sergeant continued. "Also, get some brushwood--ye'll find -it out 'ere ready for yer--and ye'll g'over disguised as a shrubbery. -We'll crawl across, get up to the German trench and fling the bombs in. -Then we'll come back again, the 'ole lot of us, if we're lucky.... What -the devil's that?" - -The stretcher-bearers brought him in from the trench, a rifleman with a -wound showing in his shoulder, and placed him on the floor. - -"One of the party that was to cross," said the sergeant; then asked: -"Much 'urt, old man?" - -"Not much wrong," was the reply of the wounded man. "I'm sorry I'm not -in the raid.... I looked across and then my shoulder burned...." - -"Well, I must get another man," said the sergeant. "You'll do, Reynolds. -Get yer face blacked and get some bombs." - -The men set to work in the dug-out and blackened their faces, procured -their bombs and branches, and got into raiding order. In ten minutes' -time they were out on the open, thirty men making towards the German -trenches. - -Flanagan lit a cigarette, put his hands in his trousers pockets and -leant his back against the wall of the dug-out. Bubb looked at him. - -"Yer bloomin' old phizz is sooty enough, Flan," he said; "but yer teeth -don't arf look white; they'll be seen miles away." - -"I suppose I should black them," said Flanagan. "It would be for my own -good. Natural selection has not fashioned me for this war environment. -Raiding by night is a job for chimney sweeps. They could walk over to -the German trenches and they would not be seen in the darkness. Darwin -would be very interested in these raids. If he saw one he would write a -treatise on Artificial Selection and call it The Survival of the Fittest -Disguised. We are disguised; we're one with the night. We accommodate -ourselves to our environment like the fox that changes its coat to white -when the snow comes." - -"These 'ere branches ain't arf a barney," said Bubb, who understood only -a little of what Flanagan was saying. - -"Birnam Wood! Copied from Macbeth," said Flanagan with an air of scorn. -"There's nothing new in the world. There were trenches and dug-outs at -the siege of Sebastopol." - -Sergeant Snogger came in at that moment, his body festooned with bombs, -his face the colour of ebony. He looked at his men. - -"Wot are yer waitin' for?" he asked. "Gawd, ye are slummicky. Come on, -we've got to get across to-night. To-morrow won't do for this 'ere job." - -The party went out, crossed the parapet into No Man's Land and advanced -in open order, six yards' interval between each man and his neighbour. -Reynolds near the centre of the line, had Flanagan on his right, Bowdy -Benners on his left, whilst the sergeant, who led the party, moved -warily along, a few yards in advance. From time to time he halted and -waited for those who followed to come abreast and issued orders which -were passed from the centre to the flanks in whispers. He used the words -"damned unlucky" whenever he spoke. - -"Spread out from the centre," he cautioned. "The whole party's bunchin' -up. If the henemy flings some dirt across, yer'll be damned unlucky." - -Again he gave the order "Close in in the centre! You're losing touch. -Some of yer'll be goin' in to the German trench all alone; then yer'll -be damned unlucky." - -Whenever a star-shell rose in air, the raiders flung themselves flat to -the ground and waited for the flare to die out. As they went down, they -placed the branches over their heads and held them there until the order -to advance was given. Lying thus, they were immune from discovery, for -an enemy patrol ten yards away would mistake the prone bundles under -their covering of branches for derelict bushes which the fury of -incessant shell fire had spared. - -Star-shells rose at frequent intervals from the enemy lines; the British -sent up very few. This was the case all along the line. The enemy, in -eternal dread of raids, kept up a continual watch over No Man's Land. - -The party, now half way across, lay down, for a starshell rose from the -German trench, stood high and lit the derelict levels with the -brilliance of day. Then oscillating sleepily from side to side, it -dropped a myriad petals of flame and sank lazily to earth. - -"They're getting the wind up," said Bowdy Benners, whispering across to -Reynolds. "We'll have some dirty work 'fore we come back." - -The boy made no answer. Lying prone, he listened to the silence. How -calm it was under the great, glorious moon. The levels were in a dream, -a dream of Fairyland, and everything save the starshells and the glint -of light that played on his rifle barrel was as motionless as though in -a realm of frozen enchantment. The night drew closer to the boy; it -seemed caressing his young head and body. He even felt sleepy. It would -be good to lie there and rest. - -His eyes looked out in front on a dead man who lay there, scarcely a -yard away. The boy did not feel afraid. That a dead soldier should be -there seemed quite natural, in keeping with the new life which the youth -had entered. - -"I suppose he was killed on a raid," he thought. "I wonder if he was -going out or coming back.... What would mother...." He looked at the -dead soldier with a fresh interest and his eyes filled with tears. - -He saw that the man was dressed in khaki and he lay on his back, his -knees up and his bayonet pointing in air. From the bayonet standard to -the man's head stretched an unfinished cobweb on which the spider was -still busily working, fashioning circle and line. Under the moonlight -the web was a brilliant and beautiful dream.... - -"Come out o' it, Reynold," said the sergeant, who was annoyed because -the boy had not heard the first order to advance. "Spread out a little -on both sides, for we've got to keep a look-out for a henemy patrol. -We're not out on a six months' tour now," he added. "If yer ---- think -so, ye're damned unlucky." - -The men spread out at the double and lay down again, leaving an interval -of some twelve yards between each man and his neighbour. Reynolds lay -flat, his hand gripping his rifle. Now and then a breeze rustled across -the levels, set the poppy flowers nodding to one another, and died away -again. The smell of the wet grasses and the damp earth was in his -nostrils, and the narcotic odour of the soil almost lulled him into -slumber. - -A mouse rustled along the ground in front, in and out amongst the -nodding poppy flowers and disappeared. Near him somebody stifled a -cough, but the sound struck harshly on his ears. Apart from that, -silence and suspense. - -He lay flat, his face on his hands, his legs stretched out to their full -extent, and listened. Well to the left a mate whistled; something had -aroused his suspicions, probably the enemy patrol. A bird rose from the -grass, shrieking as if in pain, and flew away. The lights died out; the -level fields looked deathlike. - -A starshell rose up to the sky and settled over Reynolds' head. Under -its light the country seemed to become more immense, it stretched out on -all sides into endless distances.... He lost consciousness for an -instant. - -"Well, the night is very long in passing," he said in an audible voice, -opening his eyes for a moment. "I am very sleepy, but if I doze off -something may happen." - -He had a desire for something exciting to take place, something that -would keep him awake. He even felt hungry, and did not particularly want -to fight. Even a sleepy boy does not like fighting at two o'clock in the -morning on an empty stomach when there was so much to eat near at -hand.... How strange that he had not noticed it before. Probably he had -been looking in the wrong direction. But there out in front in the midst -of the poppies stood a house with the windows brilliantly lighted up and -a girl standing at the door. From the way she laughed when he approached -he knew that she was glad to see him. She made way and he entered the -dining-room, where the table was spread out for dinner. The food was not -laid yet, but on a table in the corner he could see a grand array of -steaming dishes. - -"It's splendid," he said. "Not like army stuff. It's...." - -The girl whom he met at the door came into the room, approached the -table in the corner, and brought over a plate of soup, which she placed -in front of him. He looked for a spoon, but could not find one. - -"You've forgotten," he said to the girl. "I haven't got a spoon." - -"How stupid of me," she replied. "I'm awfully sorry. I was thinking of -something else. But now I'll get a spoon. I always carry a spoon no -matter where I go." - -"So do I," was Reynolds' answer. "I always carry a knife, fork and spoon -in my pack. They're gone now." - -The girl disappeared for a moment. When she came into the boy's world -again she carried a spoon in her hand. - -"This is for you," she laughed. "It's silver-plated with a -monogram--your own monogram." - -As she spoke she lifted his soup and rushed off with it. - -"Come back with the plate," cried Reynolds, rising to his feet. "I -haven't eaten yet." - -"Don't get excited," she called back over her shoulder, "I'll pass it -along in a moment. I'll pass it along, pass it along." - -A strange harshness had crept into her voice, and the youth swept back -into reality. The man on his right was calling to him. - -"Pass it along," he called out in a loud whisper. "Pass it along." - -"What's the message?" Reynolds asked. - -"The right flank reports seeing an enemy patrol," - -was the answer. - -The boy passed the message to the left but got no acknowledgment. - -"I suppose the man there is asleep," he muttered. "I'll go along and see -him." - -He lifted his rifle and stumbled along through the gloom. When a light -went up he stood still and waited for the darkness to resume his -journey. - -"Yes, here he is," he said, when a flare lit up the night and showed him -a figure in khaki lying flat on the ground. "Asleep, of course." - -"Wake up, man," he shouted, when he reached the motionless figure, -bringing his hand down with a smack on the man's back. The shoulders -gave way beneath the force of the blow. His hand seemed to sink into the -soldier. - -"Good God!" he gasped. "It's a dead man." - -He left the poor thing hurriedly, found a man asleep, woke him up, -delivered the message and made his way back to his post. - -The strange experience had unnerved him and he lay down again, feeling -that a huge dark form was standing behind him watching every movement on -his part. A breeze had risen and the waving grasses wailed a dirge in -dismal unison. From somewhere far away a dog whined mournfully.... The -order to advance was given. - -The men went forward at the double for a space and flung themselves down -flat when they reached the enemy's barbed wire entanglements. Those in -the centre of the party could not get across; the wires in front of them -stood sturdily, untouched by artillery fire. - -"Lie low," the sergeant whispered to Bowdy Benners, "and pass the word -along to the left. Ask them if there's an openin'. The same message to -the right." - -The seconds crawled by until the answer came back from the left. -"Opening here. Shall we go through?" - -"Pass the message to the right and tell them to close up," said the -sergeant to Benners. "Also, those on the left, get through and lie down -on the other side of the wires until we join them. Pass it along." - -The message went its way and the men in the centre followed it, -stumbling and crouching low to avoid the eyes of the enemy sentinels. -Reaching the opening, they lay down, their heads under the branches, and -waited for the party to close in. - -Reynolds had a good view of the enemy's trench as he lay on the ground a -dozen yards away from the reverse slope of the parapet. He saw the -sandbags tilted at strange angles looking for all the world like dead -men huddled together in heaps. Immediately in front lay an unexploded -shell perched on the rim of a small crater, and near it was a wooden box -and a heap of tins. Somebody in the trench was singing a song in a low -but clear voice. The night was full of the smell of burning wood; -probably the Germans were cooking a meal.... Bowdy Benners and the -sergeant lay in front of Reynolds, immovable as statues,--both might -have been dead.... Benners turned slowly round and crawled back again -with a message. - -"When the sergeant lifts his branch and holds it over his head, prepare -to advance," he whispered. "Get your bombs ready to throw.... Pass it -along to right and left." - -Fascinated Reynolds watched the sergeant, saw him lie still as ever for -a full minute, then he raised the branch and held it over his head for -an instant, brought it down again and got to his feet. As one man the -party rushed forward to the rim of the trench and began to fling their -bombs in on the occupants. There was one explosion, then a second, a -third and a fourth.... The Germans, taken unawares, raced from one bay -to another, but the bombers waited for them at every turning. In their -eyes the attack might have been delivered by an army corps. Death had -crept up in the night out of the unknown. Men fell, yelled in agony, and -became silent, their white faces showing ghastly on the floor of the -trench when the smoke of the explosions died away. - -"Damned good work! Keep at it, boys!" yelled the sergeant, standing on -the parapet and drawing a pin from the shoulders of a bomb. "They're -damned unlucky this 'ere time." - -He threw his missile at a German who was trying to enter the door of a -dug-out, and stepped back to avoid the explosion. - -"Blimey, it's a barney!" said Bubb, looking down in the trench. He had -come to his last bomb, and wanting to "make it tell," he threw it into a -dug-out door which showed in the wall of the parados. Followed an -explosion accompanied by agonised yelling.... - -Twenty yards away Reynolds stood on a sandbag, a bomb in his hand, his -eyes fixed upon a boy about his own age who, crouching against the wall -of the trench, was looking up at him. Reynolds, full of military ardour, -had rushed up to the attack when the order was given, and was on the -point of flinging the bomb into the trench when he noticed the young -German standing motionless, paralysed with fear. Reynolds raised the -bomb with the intention of throwing it, then brought it down again. The -terrified foe frightened him. In the heat of passion, Reynolds would -have killed him, but to take away the life of that shivering, terrified -creature was not a job for the youngish newly-out. He gazed at the -German, the German returned the gaze, perplexity looked at dread and -became horrified. Killing was not an easy matter. - -Reynolds drew back a pace, his eyes still fixed on the foe. The battle -raged around him; the flash of the bursting bombs almost blinded him, -the explosions shook the ground ... the flying splinters sang through -the air. - -Suddenly the order to retire came down the line; a brown figure rushed -up to Reynolds shouting something about "getting out o't," seized the -bomb which the youngster held and flung it into the trench on the -youthful German. - -The party retired hurriedly; their work was completed. "The sooner back -the safer," the sergeant yelled. "They'll open up a machine gun now and -we'll be damned unlucky if we don't grease back." - -Already the enemy's rifles were speaking and bullets swept by with a -vicious hiss. The men stumbled through the opening in the barbed wires -and rushed into the levels. Benners and Reynolds ran out together -chuckling, pleased, no doubt, at the success of their enterprise. Bubb -and Flanagan followed; the latter had lost his rifle and vowed that he -was always unlucky. - -Suddenly Reynolds fell headlong to the ground. He was on his feet -immediately and rushing forward again. - -"It's the damned wires," said Flanagan. "They're scattered all over the -place." - -As he spoke, Reynolds went down for the second time, but did not rise -again. Benners came to a halt and stooped over him. - -"Are you hit, chummy?" he asked. - -"I got it through the breast," the boy replied. "It was that which -brought me down the last time, not the wires." - -Reynolds was surrounded now by his comrades. He was sitting half -upright, his head sinking towards his knees, the martial elation of a -few minutes ago utterly gone. - -"Well, chummy, you'll be all right in time for breakfast," said Bubb, -who expected that these words would buoy up the youngster's courage. But -Reynolds seemed to pay no heed, a cold and sorrowful expression settled -on his white face, which looked strange and unearthly in the light of -the moon. The sergeant cut open the youth's tunic and looked at the -wound, which showed red over the heart. There was very little bleeding. - -"Oh! you'll be all right in no time," said the sergeant in a voice which -was strangely soft and kind. - -"No, no," said the boy, in a scarcely audible whisper. "Leave me to -myself, please.... I'll not live very long.... It's too near the heart." - -These were the last words which the men heard him speak. Ten minutes -later he had passed away. - - * * * * * - -"I knowed it would pan out that way," said Bubb, as he sat in his -dug-out two hours later drinking hot tea from his sooty messtin. - -It was dawn, the sun came up red in the east and the dewdrops glittered -like diamonds on the levels. - -"'Twas the same wiv old Stumpy. 'E was the third man to light 'is fag -wiv the same match," said Bill. "Then 'e went up to the trenches an' 'e -was shot dead." - -"It's all damned rot," said Flanagan. "I knew men getting killed who -never smoked a fag." - -"I had a feeling that Reynolds was going under, anyway," said Benners. -"And he was such a good boy, too." - -"I liked him better than I cared to say," said Flanagan. "He was as -eager as hell. And he's dead. He didn't have much of a run for his -money." - -"Takin' it all in all, we're not so blurry badly off," said Bubb. "I -wunner if we're goin' ter get relieved soon. I 'ope so, anyway." - - - - - CHAPTER XVIII - - BATHING - - We labour in the trenches with rifle, maul and spade, - We're soldiers, cooks and carpenters, and everything to trade; - We stand on sentry-go all night and turn to kip at dawn, - But when we're dropping off to sleep it's "Up and carry on"-- - For it's carry on and carry on and carry on all day; - They'll make us carry on until they carry us away; - It's carry on the whole day through, at dusk as well as dawn-- - Oh blimey! will they never stop their blooming Carry On! - - (_From "Carry On."_) - - -The road by La Bassée Canal was gritty and dry and shone like a thread -of gold in the afternoon sunlight. The Canal, dark and oily, was broken -by hundreds of little petulant ripples; its banks were red with poppy -flowers. Quiet reigned in the village of Gorre, where the London Irish -were quartered. They had been out digging trenches at Cambrin the night -before. Having been relieved from the fighting line, two nights after -Reynolds' death, they were now supplying working parties to the trenches -near La Bassée. In the present war the pick and shovel are as important -as the rifle and bayonet. - -Bubb, Flanagan and Bowdy had just got up from the straw on which they -had been lying. - -"Let's have a bloomin' dip in the briny," said Bubb. - -"Let's," said Bowdy and Flanagan. - -The trio made their way out into the village. It was a glorious day. The -sky was a tender blue, the green branches of the poplars which lined the -street waved sleepily, the shadows of many little clouds glided across -the cobbled pavement. To eastward other little clouds formed suddenly -and as suddenly paled away, and the men knew that an artillery duel of -slight intensity was in progress by Cuinchy. - -"This ain't a bad place for a billet," said Bubb. "I could stick 'ere -for duration." - -"We'll soon be out of it now," said Flanagan, handing round a packet of -cigarettes. "Captain Thorley said this morning that we are going to trek -to the Somme. Big doings down that way." - -"We're always in it when there's a row on," said Bubb. "It's no sooner -see and like a place 'ere than you're out't next day. There are some -fine birds in this 'ere place too.... Look there are the cooks gettin' -dinner ready. Gawd they're sweatin' at the job too." - -A field kitchen stood in the church square and the smoke curled up from -the sooty funnel and paled away in the clear air. Here the company cooks -were busy preparing dinner. Facing the Canal was a row of red-roofed -houses, with a wealth of summer flowers round the doors, the windows -looked out coquettishly through roses, and green ivy clambered up the -walls. - -To the left of the church was a snug little graveyard hidden in a -spinney, and here a number of English soldiers were buried. Under a -large tree stood a broken and rusty pump which was out of action. A -large shell had fallen there and after the explosion some soldiers found -a robin, dead. They buried it and were moved to poetry in inscribing the -little bird's epitaph. The epitaph, written in large black letters, hung -from the handle of the pump. This was the verse:-- - - "Cock Robin lies beside this pump, - A coal-box hit him such a thump, - And this is all we've got to tell, - We'll lick the swine that fired the shell." - -Bubb looked at the epitaph. - -"Mind the one over Sergeant Slade at Maroc?" he remarked. - - "'Ere lies the remains of Sergeant Slade, - As was slow at frowin' a 'and grenade." - -"Not as good as the one at the Cabaret Rouge up at Souchez," said -Flanagan, and quoted:-- - - "This marks the fallen dug-out - Where seven heroes fell, - Strafed in a bomb-proof shelter - By a high velocity shell." - -"Well, we'll go into the café and have a drink," said Bowdy. "Bubb -won't refuse to go in, I know. He wants to see Emily." - -"It's yourself as wants to see the bird," said Spudhole. "I don't mind -sayin' that I kind o' like 'er. She's not bad lookin', almost as nice as -Fifi. Mind Fifi, Bowdy?" - -"Poor old Fifi," said Bowdy. "Fitz was fond of her. I remember one night -seeing him kissing her over the window." - -"Git out." - -"True," said Bowdy. "That was when we were at Y---- Farm, and I was -lying in the straw up in the barn. Snogger and Fitz and Spud and myself -came in from the café and all went to bed, except my bold Fitz. He sat -up and I watched him. After a while he thought everyone was sleeping and -up he gets and goes downstairs. I waited for ten minutes, but he didn't -come back, so out I goes and down to see what he was up to. And what -would it be but Fitz at the back of the farmhouse speaking to Fifi and -kissing her. Well, it wasn't my business to spy on him, so back I comes -to my roost and I was asleep before he came back." - -"I always knew that 'e was a devil," said Bubb. "Pity that 'e went -west.... 'Ere, can yer smell the roses." - -They came to the door of the café and entered. Emilie was inside -sitting at a table writing a letter. She smiled at the soldiers and -went on with her work. Bubb lit a cigarette, sat on a chair and mumbled -a song. - - "Woola woo donna maw, - Siv woo play, - Pan ay burr - Ay cawfee ah lay." - -The girl raised her head and laughed, disclosing her pearly white teeth -and red lips. Emilie was a well-made girl with dark hair, white brow, -thick, strongly arched eyebrows, a charming chin and a full throat. She -was of medium height, full of vitality and fun, a coquette every inch -of her. Bubb was in love with her, just as he had been in love with -dozens of other French girls. A billet and a bird, and no man out of -the trench area could be happier than Bubb. - -Having drunk their coffee, the soldiers made their way to the Canal. - -Bubb's face was brimming over with good nature and vitality. Now and -again he would jump into the air, cut a caper with his feet, hop to -earth as gracefully as a bird, kick a pebble along the roadway, and -afterwards lift the pebble in his hand and fling it into the water. - -A boy, wearing a pair of English puttees drove two lean cows along the -Canal bank and stopped for a moment to speak to an elderly female who -was washing her household linen in the cool water. Heedless of the -woman's presence, Bowdy and Flanagan undressed and flung themselves -into the Canal. The swim from bank to bank was very exhilarating, the -coolness warmed the heart and imparted a strange exhilaration to the -body. A swim in the cold water always gave the two men the same -sensation as good news that is unexpected. Bubb sat on the bank looking -at the swimmers. - -"Come into the water, my man," they shouted. "It's glorious." - -"'Twon't be so glorious when yer get out again," said Bubb. - -"Why?" Flanagan enquired. - -"'Cos yer clo'es are right top o' a hant-'eap." - -"An ant-heap!" ejaculated Flanagan. "Oh, my God!" - -"I'm not goin' ter leave my clo'es wiv yours," said Bubb. "I'm goin' -ter leave 'em where there's no bloomin' hants." - -"We'll get stung to death," Bowdy said. "Bubb, put our clothes along -with yours," he called. - -"No blurry fear," shouted Bubb, who was undressing further along. "I -don't want to get no hants." - -The swimmers only ceased in their endeavours to drench him when he -flung half-a-dozen bricks into the water perilously close to their -heads, but it was only Bubb's trudgeon stroke that saved him from a -combined attack when he dived into the Canal. Bubb was a graceful -swimmer. - -Bowdy was just clambering up on the bank when he heard it coming, -rumbling in from the Unknown. He was back in the water immediately, -beating it with his hands as he waited. The shell burst near the bank -and a hundred splinters whizzed into the Canal. A second shell -followed, and a third. Then it was that Bubb's clothes, caught fair, -were blown in pieces.... For ten minutes the men kept in the water, but -when no further shells came across from the Germans, they clambered out -on to the bank. - -"All hail, thou twentieth century Adam!" said Flanagan, looking at Bubb -and shaking the ants from the bundle of khaki clothing. "It will be -splendid to see you march through Gorre on your way back.... And all -the young girls...." - -Bubb looked round in agony; Bowdy shook with laughter. - -"And French girls, too," said Flanagan. "They're very rude sometimes." - -"We'll have a little procession," Bowdy suggested. "Bubb leading." - -"It's a sad plight for a bashful man," said Flanagan. "An exhibition in -the nude." - -Bubb opened his mouth and shut it again. Bowdy and Flanagan put their -boots on. - -"If only I 'ad a sandbag," said Bubb. - -"We'll get back now," Bowdy said. "Come along, Spudhole." - -"No blurry fear," said the Cockney. "I'd drown myself 'fore I'd go back -through Gorre like this. I'm not a girl in a revue. I'm a soldier, not -a hactress. Will one o' you run back and get a pair o' trousers and a -shirt for me?" - -"No." - -"No-o!" - -"Callin' yerselves mates!" shrieked Bubb. Then his voice became -coaxing. "Look 'ere, Flan, you go back and get me even a shirt; or -Bowdy.... Any of you. Be pals." - -"Who stood by and let the ants run over our clothes?" asked Flanagan. - -"Bubb," Bowdy replied. "Our pal, Spudhole." - -"That was a joke," said Bubb, "but this is past a joke. It's 'ell -'avin' no clothes." - -"But you wouldn't wear clothes with ants running over them, would you?" -asked Bowdy. - -"I must go on in front," said Flanagan. "I'll ask Emilie to come down -and have a look at you. She's up to any kind of devilment, that same -girl." - -"Flan-a-gan," said Bubb in a slow voice, hoarse with decision, "if -you'd do a thing like that, I'd cut yer blurry froat." Then he stooped -down, picked up a pebble and flung it into the water. - -"'Ere, wot's this?" he exclaimed suddenly. "This, in the Canal." - -They looked in. A stretcher, to which a ground sheet was bound by a -leathern thong, drifted slowly down the Canal. Quick as a flash, Bubb -dived in and brought the stretcher to the bank. - -"Carry me 'ome on this," he said. "Put the ground sheet over me." - -He lay down on the wet stretcher and his mates covered him over with -the sheet and raised the burden to their shoulders. Spudhole regained -his good humour and began to sing. He was in the throes of a rag-time -chorus when Flanagan and Bowdy halted opposite the Café Calomphie and -placed the stretcher on the pavement. - -Flanagan knocked at the door. Emilie came out. Bubb sweated terror from -every pore. - -"Take me away!" he yelled, wrapping himself very tightly in his sheet. -"For Gawd's sake take me back to the billet!" - -Agitation and confusion distorted his countenance; at that moment he -longed for the ground to open and swallow him. Flanagan, who knew -French like a native, was speaking to the girl. - -"What are you saying?" Spudhole called. - -"She wants the ground sheet," said Flanagan. "I'm going to make her a -present of it." - -"For Gawd's sake----" - -"She's going to take it off herself, with her own two hands," Flanagan -remarked. - -"Oh, blimey!" groaned Bubb; then, in an excess of rage, "I'll kill 'er -if she comes near me. I'll strangle 'er, then I'll strangle you." - -But Bubb's violent gestures did not deter Emilie from approaching the -stretcher. She knew all about Bubb's mishap. Flanagan had explained his -mate's woeful plight. Emilie bent down and raised the lower part of the -ground sheet, disclosing Bubb's toes. - -Spudhole curled up like a hedgehog. The girl gave the sheet a slight -tug. - -"Pour moi!" she said. - -"Git out!" yelled Bubb. "Clear off ter 'ell. Damn yer, don't yer know -wot shame is! Ally voos ong." - -"Pull it off, Emilie," roared Flanagan, holding his sides. - -The girl gave the sheet another tug. She did not want to take it off, -but Bubb's terror amused her. - -The boy could stand it no longer. He got to his feet, wrapped the sheet -round his waist and fled up the street. The village came out to see him -careering along; all laughed at the escapade but few were surprised at -the spectacle. - -"It's only the mad English," the old women said. "They are always up to -mischief." - -That night the London Irish set out on their trek to the Somme. - - - - - CHAPTER XIX - - THE SOMME - - There's a shell as 'as fell in the mud, - A bloomin' big shell in the mud, - A bloomin' big shell, - An' it might give us 'ell. - As it would if it wasn't a dud. - - I was watching and saw where it goed, - Exactly the spot where it goed, - In a sweat o' a funk, - I watched where it sunk, - And I'm thankful it didn't explode. - - (_From "The Dud."_) - -The trench was quite a good one for the Somme, about six foot deep with -here and there a few dug-outs where men could sleep and eat. - -There, on a certain autumn morning, we find the men of the London Irish -again, waiting to cross No Man's Land and attack the Germans. A month -has passed since they left Gorre and during that time they have seen -much fighting in which they have earned great renown. - -"We're too well known," Bubb often remarked bitterly, but beneath all -his grumbling it could be seen that he was more than a little proud of -his regiment. "We're too well known that's wot it is," he would -continue. "If there's anything to be done oo's to do it? Us. We're -always in the thick o' it. If the 'eads 'ear that there's a stiff job to -be done and it wants an army corps to do it, wot do the 'eads say. They -say: 'Put the London Irish, the footballers of Loos on the job. They'll -soon do it.'" - -On this morning Bubb was preparing breakfast in a dug-out while Bowdy -Benners was sleeping in a corner and Flanagan was out on the parapet -watching for Tanks. These monsters were going to cross presently, but as -yet they were not to be seen. In front, the self-sown crops were waving -in the breeze, and the barbed wire entanglements showed red and rusty -over the meadows. Nothing of the German wires remained; they had been -blown to bits. The German trenches could be seen in front, dipping out -of sight into a natural valley on the left and losing all outline -amongst the tree stumps on the right. The stumps were all that remained -of the well-known High Wood; the locality was pitted with shell-holes -and littered with dead, friend and foe, who lay together in silent -communion. The Germans still held the wood. - -Bubb, having prepared breakfast, went to the door and called Flanagan -in, then he turned round and kicked Bowdy on the shins. - -"Git out 't," he said. "Ye're not going to fight on an empty tummy, are -yer?" - -Flanagan came into the dug-out. "That smells A.1." he remarked. "But the -Tanks," he said. "I can't see them yet. I hope they're not late." - -"I hope they're not," Bowdy replied, and yawned. The arrival of the -Tanks did not interest him apparently. He reached out his hand for the -mess-tin of tea and drank. - -"We're givin' them 'ell wiv our guns," said Bubb. "Blowin' the place to -'ell.... That's a good drop o' tea, ain't it?" - -"Indeed, it's damned good," Flanagan replied. "I'm out for a V.C. this -time, anyhow.... Where's Snogger?" - -"He's outside, somewhere," said Bowdy. "He thinks that he'll not come -through this scrap. He is quite nervy." - -"I wouldn't mind 'avin' a job at these 'ere tanks," said Bubb. "It'd be -damn good sport.... 'Ave another piece of bacon, Bowdy?" - -"Thank you," Bowdy replied, taking the half rasher which Bubb handed to -him. "I'm damned hungry.... Here, did you see Captain Thorley this -morning. He was giving cigarettes away. Turkish they were; must have -cost a penny apiece. Fat ones, like a cigar almost." - -"'E's a good bloke, old Thorley," said Bubb. - -"I wonder if the tanks are in sight yet," said Flanagan. "They're goin' -to make a clean sweep of all the High Wood.... What's the time now?" - -"A quarter to seven," Bowdy replied, looking at his wrist watch. "It'll -all be over at ten o'clock one way or the other The Guards and -Northumberland Fusiliers are round one side of the wood and it's almost -closed in." - -Having finished their breakfast, the men went outside into the trench. -The shells could be heard bursting on the German lines, and the enemy -were replying. The machine guns were going pit-pit, and bullets were -ripping the English sandbags. - -"There, look!" shouted Bowdy Benners, pointing at the sky overhead. His -two mates looked up to see an aeroplane making its way across to the -enemy's lines. It was followed by two, three, half-a-dozen, flying low. - -"There, the tanks!" somebody shouted, and a line of faces peeped over -the sandbags. One man in Benners' bay got hit through the head and fell -to the floor of the trench. The remainder drew back discreetly and kept -their heads under cover. Sergeant Snogger appeared suddenly, smoking a -cigarette and paring his nails with a clasp-knife. He leant his back -against the parados and looked at the trio. - -"Cheero, sarg," said Bubb. "Fancy yer chance?" - -"Not 'arf," said Snogger. "It'll be a walk-over." - -"Pass the word along for Sergeant Snogger," came the message up the -trench. - -The sergeant closed his knife, put it in his pocket and rushed round the -traverse. - -"I didn't see the tanks," said Bubb. "There are none 's far as I could -see." - -"I saw one," Bowdy said. "Over on the right." - -"There were two," said Flanagan. "Crawlin' along as if they were pickin' -up worms. Big, ugly lookin' brutes they were. God! they'll make the -Germans sit up.... You have yer helmet twisted round, Bubb." - -Bubb adjusted his helmet, lit a cigarette, pulled his rifle towards him, -cleaned a speck of dirt from his bayonet, then put his rifle back to its -original place. Bowdy and Flanagan followed the movement with intent -eyes. From their look it might seem as if their very existence depended -on the job which Bubb had done. - -"Yes, it's some strafing," said Bowdy. "The Germans are getting enough -to go on with, anyway. Phew!" - -The three men crouched to avoid the fragments from a shell which burst -on the parapet to the left. Somebody called out for stretcher-bearers -and the message sped along the trench. - -"It'll be quite easy getting across here," said Bowdy. "One whistle and -up you go and the best of luck. Here, I haven't got a cigarette.... Oh, -yes, I have, here they are, I put them into the wrong pocket. Have one, -Flanagan--one Bubb?" - -Bubb took the cigarette, placed it behind his ear and continued smoking -the one which he had in his mouth. "I'll keep this'n to smoke when we -get across there," he said. - -"It's about time to move now," said Bowdy, and he raised his head -cautiously and looked over. - -"There!" he said. "They're making head-way. No damned stopping them. -Bravo! the tanks! Good old tanks!" - -"Bravo!" said Bubb, sticking his head over. But he pulled it back -quickly, for a bullet ripped a sandbag beside him, and a handful of clay -and chalk was slapped into his face. - -"Gawd, that's a bloomin' poultice," he muttered, ducking down and wiping -the grit from his eyes. "It 'asn't knocked my 'ead off, but I feels as -if it 'as.... I'm not goin' to look over again till the whistle's -blown." - -Bowdy Benners placed a mirror on a bayonet and held it over the trench. -Looking in it he could see the field in front, the barbed wire -entanglements, the shell-holes, the German trench on which the shells -were falling, gouging out the occupants. And the tanks. Yes, he could -see them crossing, mammoths moving forward with irrevocable decision, -serious minded leviathans which knew their business and went about it in -a deliberate manner. Bullets rattled on their hides, struck sparks out -of their scaly armour, but had no effect on the air of detachment with -which the great monsters in steel pursued their inexorable way. Nosing -complacently forward, they crawled down into shell-craters, hiccoughed -up again, straightened themselves out, and stealthily pursued their way -towards the enemy trench. - -"They're getting on," said Bowdy. "We'll soon be over, too." He detached -the mirror from its rest and placed it in his pocket. "I never knew a -better one for shaving; it's so handy." - -Sergeant Snogger came into the bay again frantic with anger. - -"I would like to know oo sent that bloody message up," he thundered. -"Gawd, I'll find out, and then someone will be damned unlucky." - -He stopped, then gave an inarticulate cry and collapsed in a heap. -Bubb's jaw dropped and he stared at Snogger with dilated eyes. The -sergeant lay silent and motionless, death was instantaneous for a -shrapnel bullet had smashed his spine. - -Bowdy and Flanagan lifted the dead man in their arms and placed him on -the firestep. - -"I never seed anybody knocked out so sudden," said Bubb in a nervous -voice. "One minute speakin' and then...." - -"Don't think of it," said Flanagan. "The tanks are well on now. What a -funny thing--tanks. They are as old as the hills. Montaigne speaks about -them. He calls them coaches. Listen." - -He fumbled in his haversack, brought out a dilapidated volume--Florio's -translation of Montaigne and read:-- - - "Were my memory sufficiently informed of them I would not - think my time lost, heere to set down the infinite variety - which histories present to us of the use of coaches in the - service of warre: divers according to the nations and - different according to the ages: to my seeming of great effect - and necessity.... Even lately in our fathers' time, the - Hungarians did very availefully bring them into fashion and - profitably set them a work against the Turks; every one of - them containing a Targattier and a Muskettier, with a certain - number of harquebuses or calivers, ready charged; and so - ranged that they might make good use of them: and all over - covered with a pavesado, after the manner of a Galliotte. They - made the front of their battaile with three thousand such - coaches: and after the Canon had playd, caused them to - discharge and shoote of a volie of small shott upon their - enemies, before they should know or feel, what the rest of the - forces could doe: which was no small advancement; or if not - this, they mainely drove those coaches amidde the thickest of - their enemies' squadrons, with purpose to breake, disroute and - make waie through them. Besides the benefit and helpe they - might make of them, in any suspicious or dangerous place to - flanke their troupe marching from place to place: or in hast - to encompasse, to embarricade, to cover or fortifie any - lodgment or quarter." - -Captain Thorley appeared round the corner, his hand bandaged. A splinter -of shell had caught him a few minutes before. - -"Getting ready, boys?" he asked. "You'll have no difficulty in crossing -here.... Another two minutes.... Snogger dead?... What a pity!" - -He disappeared. - -"I wish we did get across," said Bubb. "I'm fed up wiv this waitin': I -want to get at 'em." - -Then a whistle was blown; another. The men scrambled up the parapet and -tumbled out on to the levels. - -The bombardment seemed to increase; the German trenches were hidden by -smoke, flying dirt and logs. Their dug-outs were going sky-high. Over it -all, two aeroplanes glided gracefully through the air. The tanks were -still going forward. A platoon on the right had started too soon and the -men were half-way across. Bowdy Benners and Bubb walked abreast, -chatting leisurely. Flanagan had disappeared. - -The air was alive with bullets, men were falling all round, groaning and -screaming. In front the tanks had both stopped, one in a shell-crater, -the other in a sap. The artillery lengthened its range and the shells -were falling behind the first line and the High Wood. But the enemy -machine guns had not been silenced, the High Wood was yet as venomous as -a wasps' nest. - -"Forward!" The men advanced at a steady pace, their bayonets in air. One -man had his entrenching tool fastened over his stomach as a bullet -shield. Bowdy saw him get hit in the head.... The machine gun fire was -deadly; dozens fell and lay writhing. A tall youngster with a long neck -came to a dead stop, dropped his bayonet to the ground, put his hand -inside the waist of his trousers and groped around as if trying to catch -a flea. "I've copped a packet this time," he said and lay down. - -The flanks of the marching line converged on the centre despite the -orders of the officers to the men. "Keep your distance!" "Spread out a -bit there!" etc. But the men felt inclined to huddle together, like -frightened children.... The machine guns seemed to intensify their fire, -the bullets struck the earth in a steady and incessant stream. On the -left a party of men advanced steadily. A shell dropped in the middle of -them.... - -Captain Thorley, who was leading his platoon, turned round. - -"Under cover," he shouted. "It's no good going ahead yet. It's murder." - -The men disappeared into adjacent shell-holes, others brought in the -wounded. The machine-guns swept the field with insistent vehemence. - -Bowdy and Bubb joined themselves together in a deep crater. - -"Couldn't 'ave a more swagger shell-'ole than this'n," said Spudhole. -"We're in luck's way. Flanagan got 'it," he continued. "I saw 'im cop -it. Right froo the 'ead. 'E didn't say nuffin', just fell and -stiffened." - -He placed his back against the sloping wall of the swagger shell-hole -and drawing his cigarette from his mouth with a graceful swan-like -motion of the arm, he turned to Bowdy Benners. - -"Blimey, I don't feel 'arf a swell 'ere," he said. "Wouldn't mind -stickin' it in this 'ere place for duration.... Eh, wot's that, Bowdy?" - -A German shell came out from the unknown humming like a gigantic beetle. -Nearer it came and nearer. - -"It's going to fall wide," said Bowdy, although he instinctively guessed -that it would fall very near. - -It swept over the two men's heads with a vicious swish and dived into -the opposite wall of the shell-hole. Bowdy went red in the face, Bubb's -jaw dropped, his eyes protruded as if they were going to spring out of -his head. The shock paralysed the two boys for a second; they were so -unnerved that the feeling of fear was momentarily denied them. They -stared blankly at the shell which had only entered about a foot into the -ground. The base of the projectile was showing, it might explode at any -moment. They were in a position similar to that of a patient to whose -body a local anæsthetic is applied and who sees the surgeon at work but -does not feel the knife. Bowdy was the first to recover his composure. - -"Clear out of it, Spudhole!" he yelled, and both clambered across the -rim of the crater into the open. - -They lay out there for a few minutes and as the shell did not go off -they went back again. Outside the machine-gun bullets were ripping up -the ground. The two men lay down quietly without speaking a word. Bubb -put the stump of his cigarette back in his mouth and relit it. - -"There! See the aeroplanes?" said Bowdy. "They're flying damned low over -the enemy trench. Hear their horns going? Signalling to the artillery, I -suppose." - -"S'pose so," said Bubb, flattening out in the bottom of the shell-crater -and drawing his cigarette from behind his ear. He put it in his mouth -and lit it. "I knew it would be wanted," he said. - -Ten minutes passed. The tanks were still stuck and showed no sign of -movement. The English artillery opened on the High Wood again. All guns -within range had apparently chosen it for their objective now. The -oft-lacerated tree-stumps were broken like glass, they were dragged out -by the roots and hurled broadcast; the wood was disgorging its entrails. -The unfortunate wretches who held it were in a ghastly situation. To -remain in their dug-outs was death. Their manner of dying was left to -their choice. They could come out into the hurricane and be blown to -bits, they could stay in their lairs and be buried alive. They were -confronted by two evils, one as bad as the other. The machine-guns were -silent now; probably they were all out of action. - -Bowdy put up his head and looked across towards the German lines. - -"God, they're getting it!" he said. "And the tanks are still stuck.... -There! There're hundreds of the Germans coming across with their hands -up.... One batch is unlucky; a shell has dropped in the middle of them." - -"Far as I can see, we'll 'ave nuffink to do when this strafin' is over, -bar go over an' take the trenches," said Bubb, who was looking at the -nerve-shaken Germans as they came rushing towards the craters. "I 'ope -we get relieved to-night after we've finished." - -"'Course we'll get relieved," said Bowdy. "We've been in four days -now.... Here, what the devil's wrong with you?" - -A wild-eyed German, armed with a rifle and bayonet, came to the rim of -the crater and lunged at Bubb. The Cockney, elusive as an eel, slipped -out of reach, seized his own rifle and fired at the man. The German fell -forward, dead, the bullet had gone through his neck and pierced the -jugular vein. - -"Funny bloke, that feller," said Bubb. - -"I think he had gone mad," said Bowdy, changing his position and getting -clear of the prostrate form which had fallen into the crater. - -At this moment the artillery fire ceased ravaging the German front line, -the range was lengthened and the guns devoted their attention to the -enemy's support trenches. - -A whistle was blown.... - -The men went forward, Captain Thorley leading. The bandage on his hand -was very dirty now.... The enemy trenches were very quiet, not a rifle -spoke. Parties of Germans came out with their hands in air, muttering -"Kamerad! Kamerad!" They were taken prisoners. - -"It's a damned tame endin'," said Bubb. "After all that strafing." - -"It's like a grand overture without a performance following," said -Captain Thorley who overheard Bubb's remark. - -"Yes, sir," Bubb replied. "'Ave yer a match to spare, sir. I forgot -mine. Left them in the last dug-out, sir." - -Every move augmented the number of prisoners, they rose from the ground -and from shell-holes and gave themselves up. Now and again an apparently -dead German was tickled with the point of a bayonet and he came to life -with startling suddenness. Bubb discovered a helmet, put it on and put -up his hands in imitation of the Germans who were surrendering.... Bowdy -discovered a box of cigars somewhere and lit up, then he handed the box -round. - -"Have a smoke, boys," said Captain Thorley. "Just to celebrate the -taking of the High Wood...." - -At that moment a shrapnel shell burst over the captain's head and he -fell to the ground mortally wounded. A bullet had hit him on the temple. -A few men rushed in to his assistance, Bubb leading. But nothing could -be done. His brains were oozing out.... Consciousness was lost, death -would come in a few moments. A stretcher-bearer appeared, then another, -and they carried the captain away. He died before reaching the -dressing-station. - -The London Irish now set about consolidating their position and spent -long hours of spade-work on the job. Next night the men were relieved. - - - - - CHAPTER XX - - BACK FROM BATTLE - - And as we left the trench to-night, - Each weary 'neath his load, - Grey silent ghosts as light as air - Came with us down the road. - - And as we sat us down to drink, - They sat beside us too, - And drank red wine at Nouex les Mines, - As once they used to do. - - (_From "Soldier Songs."_) - - -A soft rain was falling; a low wind swept across the levels, and the - leaves of a near birch copse rustled in the breeze, faltering timidly - as they shook the rain from their shining fringes. A soft, bluish haze - surrounded the tops of the birches, the trunks were engirt with a pale - mist which gave an eerie atmosphere to the whole wood. - -The London Irish had just left the trenches and were following a sunken -road on their way back to billets and a month's rest. The men were in a -gay good humour, "Charlotte the Harlot," the Rabelaisian song was sung -with great gusto. The faces of sweet French maidens, almost forgotten, -were recalled again. The men's fancies rushed hither and thither, -painting rosy pictures of snug farmhouses and good cafés. A month's -rest away from the ructions of war; how splendid! - -Where the wood grew thinner a brushwood screen had been improvised so -as to hide the road. In front lay an unlucky red brick village, one -which had suffered much from the guns of war. Every third house had -been hit by shell fire and many of the homes were levelled to the -ground. A heavy wall of cloud, ragged of front crawled across the sky; -the sun was overcast, but far up, shooting through the advancing layers -of black, a long, golden ray of sunshine streamed out and lit up the -firing line. - -Save for the crunch of marching feet there was quiet. The shower went -by and the soft rustle of the rain falling on the grass by the roadside -had ceased. All around the country lay in ruins, the self-sown crops in -the wide meadows drooped abjectly to earth as if in mourning for the -reaper who visited the place no more. The men passed a house which -stood in the fields, a little red-brick cottage with its chimney thrown -down, its doors latchless and its windows broken. Once a home of -thrifty, toiling people; now the clear sun, which succeeded the shower, -saw no housewife at work, no children playing, no man out in the fields -storing up the harvest crops. Nothing there now save the guns which -lurked privily and kept for the moment a decorous silence. A big shell -was following the men along, bursting at intervals some five hundred -yards behind. The Germans were sweeping the road, trusting that the -projectile would drop on any troops who might be marching along there. -The shell followed steadily, keeping its distance and doing no harm. -But the range might be lengthened at any moment and then trouble would -ensue. The men marched rapidly, hardly daring to breathe. - -"Gawd, I don't like that 'ere coal-box," said Bubb, as he heard an -explosion behind. "That blurry one was nearer, I fink." - -"Further off, I should say," Bowdy Benners replied. "Light a fag, -Spudhole, it will do you all the good in the world." - -He burst into song:-- - -"Give me a lucifer to light my fag, And laugh, boys, that's the style, -Pack up your troubles in your old kit-bag, And smile, boys, smile." - -"Come, boys, sing up," he called. "Come on, let go!" - -The chorus was repeated and the men joined in singing, roaring at the -tops of their voices. Bubb straightened his back, expanded his chest -and looked at his mate. Bowdy, with his cigarette in his mouth, was -bellowing out the chorus, the cigarette moving up and down as if -keeping time with the measure. - -Spudhole swept into a fresh song, a well-known favourite. The men -joined in the singing:-- - - "There's a soldier out on picket - Over there, - There's a soldier out on picket - Over there, - There's a soldier out on picket, - And 'e wants 'is bloomin' ticket, - But the beggar's got to stick it - Over there. - 'E don't mind the dug-outs' stenches - And the God-forsaken trenches - When 'e's thinkin' o' the wenches - Over there." - -The voices died away as a shell burst in the road very close at hand. - -"Nearer that time," said Bubb. "I wish we were in the trenches." - -They sighted the village to find the shells bursting all through the -place and the buildings flying about the streets. The children were in -hiding, not a civilian was to be seen save a pale, thin woman of forty -who stood at the door of a ruined estaminet. This had no doubt been her -home; probably she was still living in the cellar. - -The men stared at the woman, saw her bowed head, her ragged clothes, -her queer, weedy form. In her eyes was a look such as the men had -seldom seen. The poor creature reminded Bowdy of a dog which he once -had seen prowling round a pond in which its young had been drowned. - -"Wot's she doin' standin' out in the street like that?" said Bubb. -"She'll stop a packet if she's not careful." - -"Eyes right," came an order from an officer in front, and the men -turned their eyes towards the woman at the door. - -"Salutin' 'er. I wonder wot for," said Bubb. - -"'Er four children were killed yesterday by a shell," said somebody in -the ranks. - -The woman raised her head and looked stolidly at the soldiers. Her -expression did not change; perhaps feeling was dead within her. - -At the other end of the village stood a ruined convent from which the -nuns had not yet departed. They educated the village children. The -little ones went to school daily, their books and respirators under -their arms. The classroom was in the cellar of the Convent. As the men -passed the Convent, they saw a nun, dressed in blue homespun, white -frontlet and black veil, standing at the door throwing crumbs to the -doves which fluttered about her feet. In one hand she held a rosary; no -doubt she was saying her prayers. There was France personified, France -great and fearless, a martyr unsubdued! The sight was a tonic to the -men. Unable to resist the impulse, they gave vent to a rousing cheer. A -look of perplexity overspread the woman's face, she gazed at the -soldiers for a moment, then throwing the remaining crumbs to the birds -she retreated hurriedly into the Convent. - -"Wot a fine woman that one is," said Spudhole. "Gawd, there's somefin' -in 'em, you know. An' they don't do it for show, neither. Well, we'll -'ave another song now, one respectable like. Not one that we wouldn't -want good people to 'ear. 'Ow about 'Little Grey 'Ome in the West'?" - -In the late afternoon the men arrived at the village in which they were -to billet. The battalion marched down the main street dog-tired and -glad that the march was at an end. The wineshops were open and soldiers -could be seen sitting on the wine barrels, smoking and drinking. At the -corner of one side street, a cook was washing his face at a pump and -half-a-dozen merry little children were flinging pebbles at him. When a -pebble hit him, he would bend down, raise a mess-tin of water and fling -it at the mischievous rascals. A party of soldiers came out from an -alley, bearing between them three dixies of hot, steaming tea. They -were indulging in idle banter and seemed very pleased with -themselves--their eyes glowed with happiness. - -At the door of an estaminet stood the patronne gossiping with a -neighbour and laughing heartily over something. Another party of -children were hopping over lines marked with chalk on the pavement and -chanting in unison a song of which Bowdy could catch a few lines:-- - - "A l'école dans le ville, - A l'école dans le ville, - A l'école, - A l'école, - A l'école dans le ville." - -Bowdy's platoon came to a halt in the square, the company cook who came -there long in advance of the battalion, was pouring fistfuls of tea in -a dixie which stood on a field kitchen. He was red of face as a -lobster, and a smile of satisfaction lit up his genial countenance when -he saw the men. - -"You look pleased with yourself," Bowdy said. - -"So will you be pleased," said the man, "when you get your tea after a -little. I've made it well, extra strong, and Spudhole has just received -a parcel from home." - -"The post is up?" Bubb asked. - -"There's a letter for you, as well as a parcel," said the cook. "And we -are going back for a rest to-morrow night, for a month or six weeks." - -"Are we really?" Bowdy enquired. - -"Of course we are," was the answer. "And we're going to get paid, too, -this evening...." - -They were going back for a rest, probably to Cassel, and they knew such -a delightful billet there, the Y---- Farm.... - -Bowdy breathed in the fresh air. Away behind the firing line the sun -was sinking and a soft, luminous glow settled on the roofs of the -houses near. - -"We should have a bit of a spree to-night," said the cook, raising the -dixie of the waggon, placing it on the ground, and stirring it with a -long ladle. "At the café round the corner. A champagne supper, a song, -and an all-round entertainment. Are you game for it?" - -"Blimey, of course we're game for it," said Spudhole. "Wot time will it -start?" - -"'Arf past seven." - -"Righto," said Bubb and Bowdy in one voice. "We'll be there." - - - - - CHAPTER XXI - - RESTING - - The night breeze sweeps La Bassée Road, the night dews wet the hay, - The boys are coming back again; a straggling crowd are they; - The column lines are broken, there are gaps in the platoon, - They'll not need many billets now for soldiers in Bethune, - For lusty lads, good, hearty lads, who marched away so fine, - Have now got little homes of clay, beside the firing line. - Good luck to them, God-speed to them, the boys who march away, - A-swinging up La Bassée Road each sunny, Summer day - (_From "Soldier Songs."_) - -"Gorblimey! This ain't arf a blurry march," said Bubb, changing his -rifle from one shoulder to the other and straightening himself up. "I'm -feelin' my feet, my 'eels are rubbin' against sandpaper." - -"We'll soon be there now," said Bowdy Benners. "Another half hour. I -remember the place well. We haven't been here for--how long? Almost a -year and a half. Then there were some good fellows with us. Old Fitz -and Snogger and Flanagan and Captain Thorley and Billy Hurd. Gone west, -the poor devils." - -"I wish I 'ad gone west," said Bubb, whose head was sinking forward. -"This ain't worth living for, this damned march. If I did go west I -wouldn't mind; there's a lot of good men waitin' to welcome us there. -We'll never drink beer with better blokes again." - -"True for you, Bubb," said Bowdy. "Brave boys, the whole lot of them. -Here, Spudhole, I'll carry your rifle for you. You look done up." - -Bubb straightened himself. - -"Thanks, Bowdy, but I'd rather carry me 'ipe myself. Wot would these -draft men think if they see me gettin' 'elped along? I'm not a rooky, -Bowdy." - -"Righto," said Bowdy, with a laugh. "Your independence will be the -death of you one day." - -A halt was called at this juncture and the men threw themselves down by -the roadside. The dusk of an October evening was settling on the -poplar-lined roadway. The spinneys on either side were wrapped in -shadow and a cold wind swept across the fields. In a farm somewhere -near a dog barked and a cart rumbled along a lane. The chiming of a -church bell could be heard calling the faithful to prayer. - -Bowdy took off his pack, lit a cigarette, and sat on a milestone which -bore the inscription: "A Cassel 5 kilo." The milestone, which indicated -the wrong direction, had been reversed by the peasantry when war broke -out in hopes of turning the German Army in a wrong direction. Bubb lay -flat on his back, his feet cocked up, his tunic open. - -"Wunner if Fifi is kickin' about now," he said. "She wasn't 'arf a -bird. Ole Snogger was fair gone on 'er, so was pore Fitz. Bet yer, -she'll be lookin' for a new Tommy this time. Why don't ye go in an' say -things to 'er, Bowdy? Ye're a devil for fightin', a devil for drinkin', -and ye're no damned good at all when a wench is about. If I 'adn't me -own bird back off Walworth Road wiv 'er barrer, I'd lead Fifi a dance." - -"Wot about the girl at Gorre," said Bowdy Benners. "You forgot all -about Walworth Road when you went to see her on a stretcher with a -ground-sheet for a uniform." - -Bubb never wanted to be reminded of this incident, but at the present -time he was too tired to pay any heed to Bowdy's remarks. - -At seven o'clock the platoon arrived at Y---- Farm and the men were -conducted to the old barn in which a few of them had billeted before. -Bowdy and Bubb sat down on the straw and took off their puttees, lit -their cigarettes and fumbled in their pockets for money. Fifi, of -course, would give them soup and coffee free; but they felt it becoming -to them to offer money, even though it was not accepted. - -"Come along," said Bowdy, lighting a fresh cigarette. "Fifi will be -waiting for us." - -They went down the crazy stairs and across the farmyard towards the -house. Everything about the place was the same as of old, the midden, -the sloughy pools, the up-ended waggons, the grunting of the pigs in -the stye, the restless movement of cattle in the byre and the noisy -growling of the dog. Bubb recalled the night of his return from the -café of Jean Lacroix. - -"The same blurry dawg," he said to Bowdy. - -"The same." - -"Look!" whispered Bubb, as the two got near the door. "There's Fifi. -Gawd! She 'asn't 'arf changed.... Stout.... She must be married." - -They entered. Fifi rushed forward to meet them, and clasping Bubb with -both arms she kissed him on the lips. Then she kissed Bowdy, who -blushed as red as a beetroot. - -"Well, I'm damned," said Bubb. "Ye're not 'arf a giddy one, Fifi." - -She must have been working hard during the day, for her hair was all -untidy, her linen soiled and stained, her skirts in the same condition. - -"Back from the trenches?" she asked. - -"Back again," said Bubb who could follow the remark, though spoken in -French. "Trenches no bong," he said. "Ploosier mon camerads mort, more -blissée. Guerre never fini." - -"The sergen, is zee dead?" asked Fifi, speaking in English. "The bon -sergen." - -"'E's dead," said Bubb. "Also Flanagan; also Captain Thorley...." - -"Mon père mort," said the girl, and her eyes filled with tears. "Mort -à Verdun." - -There was a long silence. The two soldiers sat down near the stove. -Fifi put a basin of soup over the fire. Madame Babette came in from the -byre, her heavy shoes covered with cow-dung, and placed a pail of milk -on the dresser. She shook hands with Bubb and Bowdy. - -"Back from the trenches?" she enquired. - -"Back for a month's rest," Bowdy replied. - -"I s'pose you're married now, Fifi?" Bubb remarked, fixing his eyes on -the girl. She did indeed look like a married woman; the old sprightly -manner was gone; her face was pale and quiet now, and a tinge of -sadness had crept into her voice. The old Fifi, the full-throated -coquette of eighteen months ago, had given place to a prudent housewife -whose interests did not extend beyond the marches of the farm. - -"I am married," she replied. - -"A good husband?" asked Bubb. - -"Très bon," said Fifi. "He will be in from his work directly." - -"Ye've forgotten Fitzgerald, the Irishman," said Bubb. "'E was a good -man. 'E's dead now; killed by an oboo grand." - -Fifi chuckled. Bubb looked at Bowdy and could not resist giving -expression to the thoughts which came into his mind. - -"It's just like these 'ere French birds," he muttered. "They'll 'ave -their bit of fun wiv a bloke an' then when 'e goes away it's 'Goodbye -and be damned t'yer, and we don't care wot 'appens t'yer.'" - -Fifi, who seemed to have made great progress in her knowledge of -English, laughly loudly at Bubb's remarks. Then she raised a warning -finger. Somebody had come to the door and this somebody was rubbing -heavy boots on the cobbles in an endeavour to get the dirt from the -soles. - -"My husband," said Fifi. - -He came in, stood for a moment, and gazed awkwardly at the two -soldiers. Bubb stared open-mouthed at the man, Bowdy contracted his -eyebrows and rubbed one eye with a miry finger, then the other. - -"Bon soir, m'soo," said Bubb. "Ye're damned like a mate as we 'ad, old -Fitz." - -"I'm not surprised at that, Spudhole," said the man, coming forward and -gripping both the men's hands and shaking them as if they were pump -handles. "Not a bit surprised, for I am ole Fitz." - -"But ye're dead," said Bubb. - -"Almost had been ... but luck was with me," said Fitzgerald, still -pump-handling. "And you. I heard you two were killed, Bowdy and Bubb -... I never expected.... It's damned strange what does happen.... We've -no end of things to talk about.... Fifi, get a meal ready, the best -bottle of wine ... we have much to say.... It's all gushing out.... -God! it's good to see you two here." - -Fitzgerald sat down, crossed his legs, felt in his pockets and brought -out a packet of English cigarettes. - -"Have a fag, Bubb--Bowdy," he said, laughing boyishly. "I've left -England, but I can't resist these.... Oh! damn it!... Isn't it good to -see you two here.... Old Snogger.... I know, I saw it in the press. -Thorley, too, and Flanagan.... We'll go into the corner and have a -talk.... We won't be disturbed and rations will be ready in no time. -I'm excited, Bowdy. Bubb, I'm off my head. I'm so glad, so damned glad -that I could give you a punch right on the tip of your nose.... But -you'll not understand the feelings which give rise to a manifestation -of gladness such as that, Spudhole." - -Bubb laughed. - -"Blimey! Ye're just the same ole Fitz, same as ever," he said. - - - - - CHAPTER XXII - - THE MARRIED MAN - - You'll like to hear it one and all, for what I say is true; - The turf is wet upon the bog, the snow is on the farm, - You'd better take a wife to bed, she's sure to keep you warm; - She will not want for golden chains from any pedlar's pack, - When she will have your two strong arms clasped tight around her - neck; - Believe me, all who hear these words, believe me young and old, - 'Tis snug and warm to have a wife when Winter days are cold. - - (_From an old "Come all ye."_) - - -"Where can I begin and tell everything?" said Fitzgerald, breaking a -piece of bread and bringing it up to within an inch of his mouth. "I -suppose that night when I was buried in the dug-out will do to start -with. 'Twas the devil's own night. I got lost first of all, and me -going up with a message to Captain Thorley. 'Twas very important, a -mine going up in the morning. So the young German prisoner whom we had -taken said. Therefore, our men holding the front line had to retire for -safety to the support trenches. So up I goes from Headquarters, running -like hell (I'm getting ungrammatically excited, Spudhole) and gets -lost. Took the wrong turning, flops into a trench that was full of -muck. I stuck there for goodness knows how long, holding on to the -piece of paper on which the message was scrawled. I thought I was a -permanent fixture, stuck in that trench for duration. But somehow I did -get free and eventually found myself in our front line. How I got there -I don't know. I mind seeing you, Spudhole." - -"There was some dirt coming along our way at that time," said Bubb. - -"'Twas that shell that did it," said Fitzgerald, gazing absently at his -piece of bread, which he still held between finger and thumb. "Someone -said 'Whoo! There she comes!' and there was a rush for the dug-out. I -got mixed up in the scramble and was carried in with the rest. But I -still clung on to my message. Then the shell came down on the dug-out -and I was out of the doings, just like a gutted sprat. - -"As far as I can judge I was underground that night, the next day, the -night after, and got pulled out the day following at twelve o'clock. -Some men of the regiment that relieved us saw a bayonet that stuck up -through the roof of the fallen dug-out move as if someone was shaking -it." - -"I saw that 'ere bay'net," said Bubb. "Stickin' up over the roof." - -"Well, these fellows, when they saw the bayonet wobbling, guessed that -someone was alive under the ground, and they began to dig like hell," -said Fitzgerald. - -"Eventually they reached me, still alive, with a wound on the back of -my head, and they pulled me out. The air had got in somehow, I -suppose.... Well, I came to my senses in hospital in Versailles, and I -got up, so I was told, and rushed along the ward like hell, with a -nurse or two clinging to my shirt tail. 'Where are you running?' they -asked me. 'I'm going on a message to Captain Thorley,' I told them. -'There's a mine going up at dawn.' 'Oh, that's all right,' said the -nurses. 'Captain Thorley has got the message and everything's all -right.' And they wheedled me and coaxed me until I went back to bed. - -"So I was told; but I didn't remember anything about it. Even now my -mind gets mazed at times when I'm excited, and queer ideas come into my -head." - -"You haven't eaten one bite yet," said Bowdy Benners. "That bit of -bread hasn't gone into your mouth, and we've been sitting here for the -last ten minutes." - -"Well, I'm not hungry," said Fitzgerald. "I'm feeding on the pleasure -of seeing you two here. Fifi, the wine!" he called to his wife. - -The woman brought a large bottle, placed it on the table, and patted -her husband on the head with an affectionate hand. - -"She's a divine creature," said Fitzgerald, when Fifi went. "How did it -happen that the gods were so good to me? I don't know.... But to get on -with my story," he continued. "After a while I found myself in England. -I don't even remember crossing the Channel. I was in a muddle all the -while. Sometimes I would think I was in the trenches and I would wake -up from my sleep, jump out on the floor and stand against the wall, -thinking that I was on the firestep on guard. I must have been a -troublesome patient.... And then one night when I was in a big bed in a -big house in England I thought that somebody put a cold hand over my -forehead. I shouted out 'Who's there?' I opened my eyes, looked up and -saw a man with a black beard standing at my bed. - -"'Who are you ?' I asked. - -"'Your Sergeant-major,' said the man. 'I want you to present arms,' he -said. 'At the word "one" you give the rifle a sharp cant up to the -right side, gripping it at the small of the butt with the right hand -and at the outer band with the left....' I stared at the fellow and -this seemed to annoy him. 'Dumb contempt!' he yelled. 'You'll be for -it!' and he raised his fist and made one smash at my face. I dodged the -blow and then a man in a warder's uniform rushed in and pulled the -sergeant-major away. - -"Good God, Bowdy, where was I? Guess. I was in a lunatic asylum.... -'Twas enough to turn my brain. And it's a difficult job to prove that -you're sane when you're in a madhouse. They won't believe you, for some -damned reason or another. I used to go up to the warder and say: 'Look -here, matey, I'm as right as rain,' and he would nod his head and say: -'Oh, yes, of course you are.' But 'twas easy enough to see that he -didn't believe you. God! I often felt like strangling the man.... It -wouldn't do me any good, I knew, to kick up a ruction; so I kept very -quiet and well-behaved. - -"At the end of six weeks I was discharged and sent to a convalescent -camp; not as good as the one that Flanagan had been in when he got -wounded. Impossible to swing the lead there. I got sick of it in no -time, so I applied for a transfer to the B.E.F., somewhere in France. - -"'Do you really want to go out there again?' my mates asked me. - -"'Of course I do,' I told them. - -"'Then you must be mad,' they said. - -"But I had no luck with my application. 'Out to the trenches again,' -said the M.O. Tut, tut, man! I'll bring you before a Board and see what -it says.' - -"The Board said 'Discharge' and I was discharged with a pension. So -there I was out on my own, a wash-out. Patrick Fitzgerald, pensioner, -non bon, one that had done his bit, who had been through the thick of -it, in the doings, a brave boy, lion-hearted, and so on. My friends -took me into their arms and made no end of a fuss of me. England had -reason to be proud of her sons, they said, and took me about to swell -dinners." - -"Just like ole Flan when 'e was at 'ome," said Bubb. - -"I hobnobbed with big bugs," Fitzgerald continued, "grand old men who -were in the know and who knew everything, having inside information; -well-dressed women who preached economy to the masses, who denied -themselves luxuries which they were healthier without, who rode on -common buses and advertised the fact, and who travelled by tube as an -example to those who always travel by tube. Nobody paid much heed to -them as far as I could see. The people with whom I stopped denied -themselves the services of a butler and took in his place an extra -female servant. They were very rich, and self-denial was their greatest -craze. In furthering their country's cause they displayed as much -ingenuity as a cautious billiard player who just misses the balls. I -grew tired of it all, wearied to death," said Fitzgerald, placing his -bread on the table and pulling the wine bottle towards him. He pulled -out the cork, filled his mates' glasses, but took no notice of his own. - -"It doesn't do for me to take any now," he said, in an apologetic -voice. "It goes to here." He tapped his head with his fingers. - -"There was once," said Bubb.... - -"Yes, but that's a thing of the past," said Fitzgerald. "I did go into -a pub when I was in London. I wanted to have a yarn with the Old Sweats -who frequented the taproom. I made them merry and they carried me home. -'Twasn't honey after that. Old Fitz, the boy who had been through the -thick of it and who had done his bit, was rather a burden to his -friends. He had wild ways; his manners were unbecoming, he had said -dreadful things when under the influence of alcohol. My friends took me -aside, lectured me and suggested that if I was placed in a little -cottage somewhere out of sight, given a few pounds in addition to my -pension, I would be much happier.... - -"I left them; the brave boy who had done his bit and who went through -the thick of it vamoosed. I didn't even wait for the additional few -pounds.... Then an uncle of mine died and left me six hundred pounds. I -collared this, wrote to Fifi, whom I had not forgotten.... She -remembered me.... Her father was killed at Verdun. What could I do but -come over and see her? 'Twas an easy matter then. I had some money, I -loved her; so we got married. She's a grand woman, Bowdy. I didn't -understand her when we were billeted here; I don't even understand her -yet.... Oh, how she misses her father, but she bears it as a -Frenchwoman can. I tried to console her at first, but I say nothing -about her loss now. First she used to say, when we spoke about her -father's death: 'C'est la guerre,' but now it's different. It's now: -'He died for France and it's an honour to die for one's country.'" - -Bubb filled his glass, Bowdy did the same. The two soldiers looked at -one another, then at Fitzgerald. Fifi came up to the table. - -Bowdy raised his glass in the air, Bubb followed suit. - -"Here's to Fitzgerald," said Bowdy. - -"And to Fifi," said Spudhole. - -"Long life and happiness----" - -"And no end of 'appy children----" - -"Victory for the Allies!" - -"And 'ell for the Boche!" said Spudhole, bringing the glass of wine to -his lips. - - - THE END - - - - - Transcriber Notes: - -Passages in italics were indicated by _underscores_. - -Passages in bold were indicated by =equal signs=. - -Small caps were replaced with ALL CAPS. - -Throughout the document, the oe ligature was replaced with "oe". - -Throughout the dialogues, there were words used to mimic accents of the -speakers. Those words were retained as-is. - -Errors in punctuations and inconsistent hyphenation were not corrected -unless otherwise noted. - -The word "messtin" apparently is not a misspelling, since each instance -of the word was spelled as one word, not two. - -On page 23, a closing quotation mark was added after "most in life is -Love.". - -On page 221, a period was added after the last word. - -On page 223, "fool" was replaced with "tool". - -On page 267, a period was added after the last word. - -On page 293, "Somewhere" was replaced with "somewhere". - - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Brown Brethren, by Patrick MacGill - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE BROWN BRETHREN *** - -***** This file should be named 54990-0.txt or 54990-0.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/4/9/9/54990/ - -Produced by MWS, Ernest Schaal, and the Online Distributed -Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was -produced from images generously made available by The -Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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