diff options
Diffstat (limited to '77265-h')
| -rw-r--r-- | 77265-h/77265-h.htm | 9628 | ||||
| -rw-r--r-- | 77265-h/images/cover.jpg | bin | 0 -> 217089 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 77265-h/images/illus01.jpg | bin | 0 -> 68002 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 77265-h/images/illus02.jpg | bin | 0 -> 27989 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 77265-h/images/illus03.jpg | bin | 0 -> 40379 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 77265-h/images/illus04.jpg | bin | 0 -> 39341 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 77265-h/images/illus05.jpg | bin | 0 -> 34999 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 77265-h/images/illus06.jpg | bin | 0 -> 63927 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 77265-h/images/illus07.jpg | bin | 0 -> 64714 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 77265-h/images/illus08.jpg | bin | 0 -> 32095 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 77265-h/images/illus09.jpg | bin | 0 -> 35324 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 77265-h/images/illus10.jpg | bin | 0 -> 51642 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 77265-h/images/illus11.jpg | bin | 0 -> 30591 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 77265-h/images/illus12.jpg | bin | 0 -> 39883 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 77265-h/images/illus13.jpg | bin | 0 -> 34158 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 77265-h/images/illus14.jpg | bin | 0 -> 34387 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 77265-h/images/illus15.jpg | bin | 0 -> 63404 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 77265-h/images/illus16.jpg | bin | 0 -> 26398 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 77265-h/images/illus17.jpg | bin | 0 -> 26645 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 77265-h/images/illus18.jpg | bin | 0 -> 36885 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 77265-h/images/illus19.jpg | bin | 0 -> 35594 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 77265-h/images/illus20.jpg | bin | 0 -> 35408 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 77265-h/images/illus21.jpg | bin | 0 -> 38068 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 77265-h/images/illus22.jpg | bin | 0 -> 63113 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 77265-h/images/illus23.jpg | bin | 0 -> 51648 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 77265-h/images/illus24.jpg | bin | 0 -> 26134 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 77265-h/images/illus25.jpg | bin | 0 -> 27295 bytes | |||
| -rw-r--r-- | 77265-h/images/line.jpg | bin | 0 -> 1646 bytes |
28 files changed, 9628 insertions, 0 deletions
diff --git a/77265-h/77265-h.htm b/77265-h/77265-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..5017b86 --- /dev/null +++ b/77265-h/77265-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,9628 @@ +<!DOCTYPE html> +<html lang="en"> +<head> + <meta charset="UTF-8"> + <title> + A surgeon in khaki | Project Gutenberg + </title> + <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover"> + <style> + +a { + text-decoration: none; +} + +body { + margin-left: 10%; + margin-right: 10%; +} + +h1,h2,h3 { + text-align: center; + clear: both; +} + +h2.nobreak { + page-break-before: avoid; +} + +hr.chap { + margin-top: 2em; + margin-bottom: 2em; + clear: both; + width: 65%; + margin-left: 17.5%; + margin-right: 17.5%; +} + +img.w100 { + width: 100%; +} + +div.chapter { + page-break-before: always; +} + +p { + margin-top: 0.5em; + text-align: justify; + margin-bottom: 0.5em; + text-indent: 1em; +} + +table { + margin: 1em auto 1em auto; + max-width: 40em; + border-collapse: collapse; +} + +td { + padding-left: 2.25em; + padding-right: 0.25em; + vertical-align: top; + text-indent: -2em; +} + +.tdr { + text-align: right; +} + +.tdpg { + vertical-align: bottom; + text-align: right; + white-space: nowrap; +} + +blockquote { + margin: 1.5em 10%; +} + +.center { + text-align: center; + text-indent: 0; +} + +figcaption p { + text-align: center; + margin-bottom: 1em; + font-size: 90%; + text-indent: 0; +} + +.figcenter { + margin: auto; + text-align: center; +} + +.larger { + font-size: 150%; +} + +.noindent { + text-indent: 0; +} + +.pagenum { + position: absolute; + right: 4%; + font-size: smaller; + text-align: right; + font-style: normal; +} + +.poetry-container { + text-align: center; +} + +.poetry { + display: inline-block; + text-align: left; +} + +.poetry .stanza { + margin: 1em 0em 1em 0em; +} + +.poetry .verse { + padding-left: 3em; +} + +.poetry .indent0 { + text-indent: -3em; +} + +.poetry .indent2 { + text-indent: -2em; +} + +.right { + text-align: right; +} + +.smaller { + font-size: 80%; +} + +.smcap { + font-variant: small-caps; + font-style: normal; +} + +.allsmcap { + font-variant: small-caps; + font-style: normal; + text-transform: lowercase; +} + +.tb { + margin-top: 2em; +} + +.titlepage { + text-align: center; + margin-top: 3em; + text-indent: 0; +} + +.x-ebookmaker img { + max-width: 100%; + width: auto; + height: auto; +} + +.x-ebookmaker .poetry { + display: block; + margin-left: 1.5em; +} + +.x-ebookmaker blockquote { + margin: 1.5em 5%; +} + + +/* Illustration classes */ +.illowp48 {width: 48%;} +.x-ebookmaker .illowp48 {width: 100%;} +.illowp100 {width: 100%;} +.illowp78 {width: 78%;} +.x-ebookmaker .illowp78 {width: 100%;} +.illowp52 {width: 52%;} +.x-ebookmaker .illowp52 {width: 100%;} + </style> + </head> +<body> +<div style='text-align:center'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77265 ***</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_i">[i]</span></p> + +<p class="center larger">A SURGEON IN KHAKI</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_ii">[ii]</span></p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp48" id="illus01" style="max-width: 28.125em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus01.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption> + <p><span class="smcap">The Author outside ambulance headquarters at Ouderdom.</span></p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_iii">[iii]</span></p> + +<p class="titlepage larger"><span class="smaller">A</span><br> +SURGEON IN KHAKI</p> + +<p class="titlepage"><span class="smaller">BY</span><br> +ARTHUR ANDERSON MARTIN<br> +<span class="smcap">M.D., Ch.B., F.R.C.S.Ed.</span><br> +<span class="smaller">SENIOR SURGEON, PALMERSTON NORTH HOSPITAL, NEW ZEALAND<br> +LATE FIELD AMBULANCE, 5TH DIVISION, 2ND ARMY<br> +LATE SURGICAL SPECIALIST, NO. 6 GENERAL HOSPITAL, ROUEN, FRANCE<br> +BRITISH EXPEDITIONARY FORCE<br> +LATE CIVIL SURGEON, SOUTH AFRICAN FIELD FORCE, 1901</span></p> + +<p class="titlepage">WITH ILLUSTRATIONS</p> + +<p class="titlepage">NEW YORK:<br> +LONGMANS, GREEN & CO.<br> +LONDON: EDWARD ARNOLD<br> +1915</p> + +<p class="center smaller">[<i>All rights reserved</i>]</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_iv">[iv]</span></p> + +<p class="titlepage smaller"><i>Printed in Great Britain</i></p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_v">[v]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="PREFACE">PREFACE.</h2> + +</div> + +<p>In the following pages an attempt is made to record, +however imperfectly, some of the scenes, and the impressions +formed, during those great days of 1914 +when our army was fighting so stubbornly and against +such odds in France and Flanders.</p> + +<p>The notes in many instances are disconnected, but +the things seen presented themselves in a disconnected +way, and if they are not all beautifully dovetailed one +into another, they are at least given forth somewhat in +the way in which I viewed and received them myself.</p> + +<p>During the actual progress of this war, and when +the war is happily over, much literature bearing on +the great struggle will be produced, but I venture to +think that of the personal narrative and the personal +impression one cannot have too much.</p> + +<p>The narrative includes my experiences at Le Havre, +Harfleur, and the battle of the Marne, the march to the +Aisne, the wait on the Aisne, the move across France +to the new lines behind La Bassée, and the final move +to Flanders not far from Ypres.</p> + +<p class="right">ARTHUR A. MARTIN.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_vi">[vi]</span></p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_vii">[vii]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CONTENTS">CONTENTS</h2> + +</div> + +<table> + <tr> + <td class="tdr smaller">CHAP.</td> + <td></td> + <td class="tdpg smaller">PAGE</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">I.</td> + <td><span class="smcap">From Peace to War</span></td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_I">1</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">II.</td> + <td><span class="smcap">Le Havre and Harfleur</span></td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_II">15</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">III.</td> + <td><span class="smcap">From Le Havre to the Bay of Biscay</span></td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_III">25</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">IV.</td> + <td><span class="smcap">From the Bay of Biscay to East of Paris</span></td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_IV">35</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">V.</td> + <td><span class="smcap">The Advance to the Marne</span></td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_V">44</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">VI.</td> + <td><span class="smcap">What I saw of the Battle of the Marne</span></td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_VI">53</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">VII.</td> + <td><span class="smcap">The Night of the Marne</span></td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_VII">59</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">VIII.</td> + <td><span class="smcap">From the Marne to the Aisne</span></td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_VIII">65</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">IX.</td> + <td><span class="smcap">The Aisne and the Tragedy of the Sunken Road</span></td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_IX">84</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">X.</td> + <td><span class="smcap">Missy on the Aisne</span></td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_X">90</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XI.</td> + <td><span class="smcap">On the Aisne at Mont de Soissons</span></td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_XI">103</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XII.</td> + <td><span class="smcap">Field Ambulances and Military Hospitals</span></td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_XII">124</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XIII.</td> + <td><span class="smcap">Good-bye to the Aisne</span></td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIII">141</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XIV.</td> + <td><span class="smcap">The La Bassée Road at Château Gorre</span></td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIV">164</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XV.</td> + <td><span class="smcap">Bethune</span></td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_XV">171</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XVI.</td> + <td><span class="smcap">Some Medical Odds and Ends</span></td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVI">202</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XVII.</td> + <td><span class="smcap">We leave Bethune</span></td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVII">221</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XVIII.</td> + <td><span class="smcap">Over the Belgian Frontier</span></td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_XVIII">231</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td class="tdr">XIX.</td> + <td><span class="smcap">We leave Belgium</span></td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#CHAPTER_XIX">265</a></td> + </tr> +</table> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_viii">[viii]</span></p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_ix">[ix]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="LIST_OF_ILLUSTRATIONS">LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> + +</div> + +<table> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap">The Author outside Ambulance Headquarters + at Ouderdom</span></td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus01"><i>Frontispiece</i></a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td></td> + <td class="tdpg smaller">FACING PAGE</td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap">A Road Obstruction near Harfleur</span></td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus02">18</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap">Harfleur—Our Sleeping Quarters</span></td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus03">18</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap">Transport <i>Cestrian</i> in the Bay + of Biscay</span></td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus04">32</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap">The <i>Cestrian</i> at St. Nazaire</span></td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus05">32</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap">Ambulances at the Marne</span></td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus06">54</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap">Halt at Serches</span></td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus07">84</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap">Gun Teams at the Marne</span></td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus08">88</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap">The Way to the Sunken Road</span></td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus09">88</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap">Mont de Soissons, showing the Old + Templars’ Hall and Church</span></td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus10">104</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap">Loading Wounded at Soissons. The + First Motor Ambulance on the Aisne</span></td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus11">122</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap">The Lean-to at Soissons. Unloading + Wounded</span></td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus12">122</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap">Château of Longpont</span></td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus13">142</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap">Village of Longpont</span></td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus14">142</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap">On the Road to Compiègne</span></td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus15">148</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap">Compiègne, showing the Broken Bridge</span></td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus16">156</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap">Ambulance crossing the Oise on a + Pontoon Bridge</span></td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus17">156</a><span class="pagenum" id="Page_x">[x]</span></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap">Low Flat Ground near the Canal, with + a Trench</span></td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus18">168</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap">Towards La Bassée</span></td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus19">168</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap">Slightly Wounded and Sick at Bethune</span></td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus20">176</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap">École Jules Ferry at Bethune</span></td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus21">176</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap">Trenches in Flanders</span></td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus22">198</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap">Monsignor distributing Medals to Belgian + Soldiers at the Roadside</span></td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus23">252</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap">Going towards the Trenches at Ypres</span></td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus24">268</a></td> + </tr> + <tr> + <td><span class="smcap">French Soldiers going to the Trenches</span></td> + <td class="tdpg"><a href="#illus25">268</a></td> + </tr> +</table> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_1">[1]</span></p> + +<h1>A SURGEON IN KHAKI.</h1> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="line" style="max-width: 7.5em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/line.jpg" alt=""> +</figure> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_I">CHAPTER I.<br> +<span class="smaller">FROM PEACE TO WAR.<br> +<span class="smcap">Early 1914.</span></span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>In April 1914 I left my practice in New Zealand for a +short tour through the American, British, and Continental +surgical clinics.</p> + +<p>After having visited all the important clinics in +the United States—the famous Mayos of Rochester, +Murphy’s at Chicago, Cushing’s at Boston, and others +at Cleveland, Baltimore, and Philadelphia, I finally +arrived at New York.</p> + +<p>When visiting the clinic at the German hospital at +Philadelphia, I, with other visiting surgeons, principally +Americans or German-Americans, was invited to tea +and cake, or cake and beer, in the reception-room of +the hospital.</p> + +<p>As the day was very hot we all drank iced German +lager beer, and, when leaving the room, were presented +with a gilt “wish-bones” holding ribbons of the German +national colours.</p> + +<p>All of the American and German-American doctors +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_2">[2]</span>wore the ribbons on their coats, but I put mine in my +pocket as a curio. I did not wish to be thought to +have German sympathies, although I had drunk their +lager beer. In New Zealand the Germans have never +been appreciated as they have been in England. Perhaps +the air of the Pacific gives one a truer perspective +of some things as they are.</p> + +<p>At New York I delayed sailing two days, in order to +avoid a German boat, and reached England by the +Holland-American boat <i>Rotterdam</i> in July. We had on +board the <i>Rotterdam</i> a very large number of Germans, +and as usual they were chiefly noticeable for their great +prowess at meals, and for their noisy method of eating. +They drank much “good German beer” and filled the +rooms with German smoke and German gutturals. +They are not attractive fellow-travellers.</p> + +<p>On arriving in England I proceeded to Aberdeen, +where the annual meeting of the British Medical +Association was being held, and to which I was a +delegate.</p> + +<p>At Aberdeen we had a very large number of foreign +representative surgeons and physicians and men from +nearly every part of the world. As usual there were +many Germans and a few Austrians.</p> + +<p>We were struck by a very curious incident towards +the end of the meeting—last day of July. The president +of the Association, Sir Alexander Ogston, gave a +reception to all the delegates from the British kindred +and affiliated associations, and to the foreign representatives. +Although the German and Austrian delegates +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_3">[3]</span>had been about in the morning, not one was present +at the evening reception. They had all departed +silently, and had said good-bye to no one.</p> + +<p>Germany and Austria had sent out their messages, +and the medicals returned with all speed.</p> + +<p>We were then on the eve of war, but none of us at +Aberdeen thought that we would be in it, or that we +were then rushing swiftly to great events.</p> + +<p>The Austrian note to Serbia was being discussed. +Germany’s action was doubtful. Russia plainly said +that she would not stand by and tamely see Serbian +Slavs humiliated by their powerful neighbours. In +spite of the cloudiness of the political atmosphere and +the slight oppressiveness none really expected lightning +and thunder, or that any spirit would</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">In these confines with a monarch’s voice</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Cry Havoc! and let slip the dogs of war.</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>On the 3rd August Sir Edward Grey, in the +House of Commons, in a serious speech, reviewed the +European situation. With convincing eloquence he +showed how anxiously he had striven to maintain +peace, and exactly defined England’s attitude in certain +possible contingencies.</p> + +<p>The excitement all over the country was tremendous. +The air was electrical with coming events, a spark would +set the firmament ablaze. One could almost see the +peoples of Russia, Germany, Austria, France, Belgium +and Serbia gaze questioningly, anxiously, across the +Channel at the Island Kingdom, and wondering in that +tense moment, What would England do?</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_4">[4]</span></p> + +<p>Then flaring headlines in the press told that Liége, +the great eastern fortress and arsenal of Belgium, had +been furiously bombarded by the German artillery, +and that Bethmann-Hollweg, the German Chancellor, +had declared that a solemn treaty guaranteeing the +neutrality of Belgium was of no more value than a scrap +of paper.</p> + +<p>Then England declared war against Germany, and +on the 4th of August we knew that England was to take +her place in the titanic world-war and step into the all-engulfing +struggle.</p> + +<p>So here it was at last. War with Germany! The +restrained hostility of years was now no longer concealed, +the long-pent-up passions were now let loose. Men +seemed to breathe easier, and an air of relief pervaded +the country.</p> + +<p>England was like a sick man after a consultation +with the surgeons. He looks eagerly and anxiously +at the surgeons, hoping that no operation may be +necessary, but dreading and expecting that it may. +Once told by them that an operation is necessary +in order that he may live, his doubts and hesitation +disappear, and he agrees to submit and to undergo the +drastic measures and emerge a strong and whole man. +There is a relief that he has decided and the mind +becomes tranquil.</p> + +<p>The gravity of the issue was realised in England +in those early August days. Those entitled to speak +with authority pronounced that the war would be a big +war—the greatest since the beginning of time—and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_5">[5]</span>that the men and women of our day and generation +would have to pass through sorrow and tribulation +and wade through dark and troubled waters before the +end would be finally achieved.</p> + +<p>The justness of England’s quarrel was everywhere +acknowledged, except in the land of the enemy, and the +exposure of the tortuous and insidious German diplomacy +stirred up the English sense of straight dealing and +fairplay.</p> + +<p>On 6th August I motored down from the Highlands +to Edinburgh, through the Pass of Killiecrankie and some +of the loveliest scenery in Scotland.</p> + +<p>Everywhere were signs of mobilisation. Khaki +soldiers and “mufti” recruits at every dépôt and around +recruiting sergeants. The price of petrol had suddenly +risen—why, nobody quite knew, but somebody was +making money out of it, we were sure. At one town +I paid ten shillings for a two-gallon tin.</p> + +<p>In the evening I reached Queensferry, but was not +allowed to cross at that hour. As the ferry would not +be going again till next morning I motored back to +Dunfermline, and having stopped the night there, returned +early in the morning to the Ferry. This time I +got across with my car. The Firth of Forth presented +a very busy scene that morning. Torpedo boats and +naval craft of all sorts and sizes were dashing about, +and in the distance were the large dark outlines of big +ships of war.</p> + +<p>From Queensferry a rapid run brought me to Edinburgh, +where the whole talk in hotel smoking-rooms, at +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_6">[6]</span>table, and on the street, was of war. The kilted soldier +was looked at with more interest as he walked the streets, +and appeals were placarded on every prominent place +for new recruits.</p> + +<p>The morning papers announced that the House of +Commons had passed a war vote of one hundred million +pounds, and that Kitchener had asked for five hundred +thousand men to join the army.</p> + +<p>The Cabinet, like a good physician, was giving the +nation its medicine in small doses during these early days. +Doctors will tell you that small doses frequently repeated +are so much better than a big dose taken at one wry +mouthful, for a big heroic dose taken at one gulp often +causes nausea. The hundred million pounds and the +five hundred thousand men made the first teaspoonful +of the national physic which was to help get rid of +the fatty degeneration and change our sleeping, sluggish +strength into the crouch and spring and hit of the prize +fighter.</p> + +<p>Next day I took train for London in order to offer +my medical service to the War Office. There was an +urgent demand for surgeons to volunteer for active +service, and at this particular juncture good surgeons +who were free to go were not very plentiful. As I +was on a tour of surgical clinics at this time I decided to +do my bit for the country and the men in the field. +Having nothing to do when I reached London that +evening, I strolled into a music hall and heard “God +Save the King,” “Rule, Britannia,” the “Marseillaise,” +the Russian, Belgian, and Serbian national hymns—all +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_7">[7]</span>blared out to cheering and shouting crowds, who seemed +to thoroughly enjoy “being at war.” It was reminiscent +of the days of the Boer War in 1899:</p> + +<p class="center">“‘<span class="smcap">Alea jacta est</span>’—<span class="smcap">The die is cast</span>.”</p> + +<p>Early next day I visited the Medical Department of +the War Office at Whitehall, and volunteered as a +surgeon with the Expeditionary Army to France. Two +days afterwards the War Office sent me a note requesting +me to call at the office and be examined to see if I was +physically fit. So I did. The physical examination was +carried out with amazing celerity, and I was handed on +as “fit.” The genial old army doctor appointed for +this duty of examining his younger colleagues made +his diagnosis on sight almost, and toyed easily with his +stethoscope while he inquired about the state of the +teeth and the digestion.</p> + +<p>I was then ushered into another office and was duly +appointed a Temporary Lieutenant in the Royal Army +Medical Corps.</p> + +<p>All the civilian surgeons accepted for service with the +army—with the exception of a few consulting surgeons—were +given the rank of Temporary Lieutenant. +Seniority or special skill or previous war experience +mattered nothing. I had already served as a Civil +Surgeon, attached to the Royal Army Medical Corps +during the South African War, and had a medal and four +clasps from that campaign, and since that period had +been surgeon to an important hospital in New Zealand, +and was a retired Captain in the New Zealand Medical +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_8">[8]</span>Corps. That, however, did not entitle me to hold any +higher rank than the young medical man who had completed +his medical training only a week ago. Many +able medical men all over the country had voluntarily +left lucrative practices and important surgical and +medical staff appointments in big London and provincial +hospitals and were enrolled as Lieutenants in the Royal +Army Medical Corps, on the same footing as junior +medical men who had perhaps been their pupils but a +few weeks before. We all ranked below the regular +officers of the Royal Army Medical Corps. Volunteers +for combatant commissions who had had previous +experience were given rank accordingly. Some discrimination +was made in the combatant arm, and rightly +so. No discrimination was made in the medical service, +and undoubtedly that was a mistake. The same lack +of organised control was exhibited at every turn in the +medical service. Men with imperfect professional skill +and experience were given duties which should have been +entrusted only to men fully possessed of those qualifications. +This criticism is not merely a destructive one. +Criticism is absolutely necessary at certain times, and +there are some mistakes in policy which should be freely +ventilated. This same policy was pursued by the Army +Medical Department during the South African War, +and was very openly discussed. This led to drastic +changes in the organisation of the Royal Army Medical +Corps, following on the Commission of Inquiry set up +by Mr. Brodrick (now Lord Midleton). In this war, +I regret to say, the old leaven has again appeared, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_9">[9]</span>and its re-appearance has aroused considerable comment +and been a cause of inefficiency.</p> + +<p>After having been given my commission I was told +to procure a uniform—Sam Browne belt, a revolver, +blankets, and other campaigning kit—and to be prepared +to move in forty-eight hours. With great difficulty I +managed to get some sort of equipment together. The +military tailors were working at high pressure, and when +asked to make a coat or breeches in a certain time +simply said, “It can’t be done.” By skilful diplomacy +I got a coat in one place, a pair of riding breeches in +another, puttees at another, leggings elsewhere, and so +on. One could not then obtain khaki shirts or ties in +London. I did not get a revolver, although this was +on the list of things necessary. Neither did I purchase +a sword. Why a medical officer should be asked to +carry a sword and a revolver, and at the same time +wear a Red Cross brassard on the left arm, I am at a loss +to understand. I have asked many senior medical +officers of what use a revolver and sword were to a doctor +on active service, and the only reply I could get was that +they were useful to defend the wounded. It would have +been much more sensible for the War Office to tell each +medical officer to get several pairs of rubber gloves for +dressings and operations. I sometimes wondered if the +War Office expected the surgeons to perform amputations +with a sword. However, I did not get a revolver, +and I did not get a sword. Later on, in France, I have +seen mild-looking young surgeons arrive at the front +armed to the teeth, with swords, revolvers and ammunition, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_10">[10]</span>clanking spurs, map cases, field-glasses and compasses +strung all round them, and on their left arm the +brassard with the Red Cross. We called them “Christmas +trees.”</p> + +<p>At last my equipment was complete, and I +received orders to go to Aldershot and report to the +Assistant Director of Medical Services for duty.</p> + +<p>I was now a “Surgeon in Khaki” and part of that +great military hammer—the British Expeditionary +Force.</p> + +<p class="tb">When I arrived at Aldershot the town seemed +deserted. The majority of the big barracks were empty. +We were told that the British Army had just left for the +Continent, and that the Aldershot command, under +General Haig, had gone to a man. Aldershot was rapidly +preparing to receive and train recruits, mobilise reinforcements, +and keep up a steady flow of men to replace +casualties. This was great news. When we left London +we did not know that the British Expeditionary Army +had gone.</p> + +<p>The A.D.M.S. (Assistant Director of Medical Services) +put me on duty at the Cambridge Military Hospital at +Aldershot, while awaiting orders for the front. Several +surgeons awaiting orders were already here, and we all +billeted at the Victoria Hotel. We were soon at work +examining and passing recruits, inoculating troops +against typhoid, and vaccinating all who had no conscientious +objections. Some had “conscientious” +objections to inoculation. Soldiers should not be +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_11">[11]</span>allowed liberty of conscience in these matters. They +should be made immune against typhoid and smallpox +at “the word of command” in spite of the screechings +of fanatics suffering from distorted cerebration.</p> + +<p>Our duty at the recruiting dépôts was a very amusing +one. We here came in contact with the first +hopefuls of Kitchener’s new army. The first call to +arms generally brings in a very motley crowd. The +best of the recruits do not turn up during the first few +days, as these have generally some domestic or business +matters to arrange. It was the “First Footers” we got +in these days at Aldershot.</p> + +<p>Another medical officer and myself took over one +dépôt. We arrived at 8.30 a.m. Standing in a straggling +two-deep line before the dépôt door were about +three hundred men of the most variegated texture—some +lean, some fat, some smart, some unkempt, but +all looking very cheerful and hopeful. A smart R.A.M.C. +sergeant is waiting at the door with a list of their names. +It is our duty to examine physically this first batch of +three hundred, to see if they are fit enough to train to +fight Germans. Ten men are marched into the dépôt. +Each doctor takes five at a time. At the word of +command they strip and the doctor begins. He casts +a professional eye rapidly over the nude recruit. A +general look like this to a trained eye conveys a lot. +The chest is examined, tongue, mouth, and teeth looked +at. The usual sites for rupture are examined. About +three questions are asked: “Any previous illness?” +“Age?” “Previous occupation?” A mark is placed +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_12">[12]</span>against the name, the nude Briton is told to clothe +himself, and the examination is over. It is done at +express speed, and although the examination is not +very thorough it is sufficient to enable an experienced +man to detect most physical defects. If a man passed, +he was put down for foreign service. Some had slight +defects and were put down for home defence. Some +had glaring defects and were turned down altogether. +We had all sorts of derelicts turn up. One weary-looking +veteran, unwashed and with straw sticking in his hair, +indicative of a bed in a haystack the previous night, +was blind in one eye and very lame. A draper’s +assistant from a London shop had a twisted spine, an +old soldier had syphilitic ulcers on the legs, some had +bad hearts from excessive smoking, some bad kidneys +from excessive drinking, some young men were really +sexagenarians from hard living, and so on. They were +old men before their time. The occupations of our +recruits were as diverse as their shapes and constitutions—a +runaway sailor, a Cockney coster, a draper’s assistant, +a sea cook, a medical student, a broken-down parson, +an obvious gaolbird, and a Sunday-school teacher.</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“Cook’s son, duke’s son, son of a belted earl,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Son of a Lambeth publican, they’re all the same to-day.”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>Before the doctor the son of a prize fighter makes +a better showing than the son of a consumptive bishop. +We had orders not to be too strict with our physical +examination. We were not to turn a man down if he +could be usefully employed in any State service during +the war. For instance, many of the “weeds” amongst +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_13">[13]</span>the young men, the cigarette victims, the pasty-faced, +flat-chested youths, those who had lived down dark +alleys and in unhygienic surroundings all their lives, +were all capable of being made into better men. Regular +meals, plain food, good quarters, baths, cleanliness +and hard work, marching, drilling and gymnastics, +made these slouching, dull-eyed youths into active, +smart men. They then held their heads up, breathed +the free air, lost their sullenness, and became cheerful. +Some of the recruits were not fit to be made into soldiers, +and work could always be found for them. There are +so many openings for the willing man at this time, be it +cook’s assistant, mess servant, officer’s servant, orderly, +or bootmaker’s help.</p> + +<p>It was always an interesting sight to see the sergeant +and corporal drill these clumsy recruits, and show +them how to walk, and where to place their feet. The +army drill sergeant has a very caustic wit and a +wonderful fund of cutting comments. He knows his +audience well, and with a few crisp epithets can galvanise +a sluggish recruit or a slouching company into something +instinct with alertness.</p> + +<p>On 21st August, six surgeons, including myself, +were ordered to hold ourselves in readiness for service +abroad. We were told to overhaul our kits thoroughly, +think out all necessary things, and not to have any +excessive baggage. None of us had. The Wolseley +valise held our little all.</p> + +<p>The last good-byes were said, and at 4 p.m. we +entrained at Aldershot for our journey to “somewhere +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_14">[14]</span>in France.” We were all very glad to be off. We +were all very curious to see and take part in the romance +and adventures of the great battles that we knew +would be sure to take place.</p> + +<p>Romance! Adventure! Very soon we were up +against cold facts, and there was no romance or pomp +and circumstance then.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_15">[15]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_II">CHAPTER II.<br> +<span class="smaller">LE HAVRE AND HARFLEUR.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>At 12 p.m. we detrained at Southampton, hungry and +thirsty. Owing to lack of foresight we had had nothing +to eat since breakfast. The night was a beautiful one, +and a voyage across channel sounded very inviting. +We marched our 350 R.A.M.C. orderlies on to our transport, +the <i>Braemar Castle</i>, and the officers tried to find a +place to sleep. We managed to get some corners in +the smoking-room, and curled up as best we could in the +cramped places. The ship was packed full of troops, +and we learned that we were the first reinforcements for +the Expeditionary Army. We had two generals on +board and the headquarter staff of a new division. Our +destination was to be Le Havre. At 2 a.m. we steamed +out, followed by several other transports crowded with +soldiers. Torpedo-boat destroyers kept watchful eyes +on us across channel, and twice a huge searchlight +played all round us from far out at sea. The navy +was watching on the deep waters. The soldiers on +board slept on the deck, on hatches, anywhere, and +they were all up and cheerfully carolling at dawn. When +a soldier wakes his first thought is for food, and at +5 a.m. they were all discussing bully beef and biscuits. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_16">[16]</span>The ship’s cook had prepared cauldrons of tea,—and +Tommy loves tea. One wag after breakfast stood on +a hatch reciting, “Dearly beloved brethren, the Scripture +moveth us in sundry places,” to a congregation of grimy-faced +soldiers.</p> + +<p>At 12.30 midday we sighted Le Havre, and in two +hours were tied alongside the wharf. The disembarkation +rapidly followed, and at 4 p.m. we were on the +march through Le Havre to our encampment. As we +steamed into Le Havre there was a scene of the wildest +enthusiasm, and the whole harbour front was a mass +of cheering men and women and children. “Vive +l’Angleterre!” “Vive Tommy!” “Vive l’entente +cordiale!” Flags and handkerchiefs were waved from +every window, and the picture of enthusiastic welcome +was most inspiring. Our men seemed to thoroughly +enjoy it, and cheered and yelled their throaty greetings +as loudly and as heartily as the French. One would +call in a bull voice, “Are we downhearted?” and the +reply, “No!” from thousands of throats, echoed and +reverberated over the sea front.</p> + +<p>Then would come a piping voice, “Do we like +beer?” followed by a unanimous roar of “Yes.” The +French welcome was a spontaneous and enthusiastic +one, and Le Havre, gay with bunting and twined flags, +shouted itself hoarse that day. I visited Le Havre some +months later and saw a crowded British transport +arrive. There was no cheering, no flags, no excitement. +At the wharf was a big hospital ship, and wounded +soldiers were being carried aboard by stretcher-bearers. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_17">[17]</span>The French had, since August, passed through some +days of disappointment and despair, and the German +was still in France. The frenzied ecstasy of that welcome +of August, the gifts of flowers, of fruit, of wine were +no longer there, but deep down there was still the same +welcome, unspoken but warm and sincere.</p> + +<p>A dusty march of eight miles on a hot, blistering +road brought us to our camp at Harfleur. We were +indeed on historic ground. Close by were the remains +of the old Castle of Harfleur that Henry V. and his men-at-arms +stormed in the long ago.</p> + +<p>On this same field Henry is said to have addressed +his soldiers:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“And you good yeomen,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Whose limbs were made in England, show us here</div> + <div class="verse indent0">The mettle of your pasture; let us swear</div> + <div class="verse indent0">That you are worth your breeding.”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class="noindent">It was on this field and at that time that old Bardolph +said:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“Would I were in an alehouse in London.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">I would give all my fame for a pot of ale and safety.”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>So here again, in the twentieth century, were some +thousands of good yeomen whose limbs were made in +England, and a pot of ale would have been relished by +all, for the day had been a thirsty one.</p> + +<p>Our arrival at camp was not expected. The commandant +seemed very surprised to see us, but told us +to make ourselves at home. We had no kits, no +blankets, no tents, no food—all had been left on the +wharf—and no hot water was procurable. We made +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_18">[18]</span>a meal off our “iron rations,” which consist of a small +waterproof cover holding a tin of bully beef, biscuits, +pepper and salt and tea. Pipes were lit and we then +lay down as we were, under the lee of a haystack, and +slept till bugle-call, when we awoke, cold and damp +with dew. The nights were very cold at this time +and the days terribly hot.</p> + +<p>The camp at Harfleur had about five or six thousand +men, composed of representatives of all arms of the +service—Highlanders, Guardsmen, Engineers, and details +from dozens of other regiments. We were reinforcements. +Rumours were coming through at this time +that all was not well with our army, and we were disquieted +to hear that it was being steadily pushed back +and fighting desperately. The retirement of our army +occasioned anxiety at Le Havre, our principal base at +that time, and the reinforcements at Harfleur could +not be joined up till the position became clearer.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus02" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus02.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption> + <p><span class="smcap">A road obstruction near Harfleur.</span></p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp78" id="illus03" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus03.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption> + <p><span class="smcap">Harfleur—our sleeping quarters.</span></p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>At Harfleur we got little authentic news. We +lived on rumours, and some of these were of the most +extraordinary kind. There was one rumour that came +through, and the Tommies fully believed it. It was +said that the Germans cut off the right hand of every +captured stretcher-bearer, and killed every prisoner of +the combatant rank. Our men were quite determined +to die fighting, and the stretcher-bearers asked for +guns. The day after our arrival in camp we were given +tents, and these were pitched in the morning. Twelve +men were put to each tent, but blankets were few and +we could only give four blankets to each tent. Next +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_19">[19]</span>day the tents were struck and packed away for some +unknown reason, and that night we all had to sleep +in the open. The officers’ kits arrived on the second +day, and on the fourth day we were told to take from +them only what was absolutely necessary. It was said +that our kits were to be either packed away or burned. +It was said also that the whole camp equipment, tents, +blankets, etc., were to be burned. Later in the day +this order was countermanded and we again took +possession of our kits. We guessed from all these +various orders that the position at the front was uncertain, +and, as history has since shown, such was the +case. On our fourth day at Harfleur a flying man +arrived in his aeroplane from England, and we all +crowded round to know what the latest news was. +He had none to give, but told us that he had flown +over a part of the German army. I think that he +brought some important information, for that afternoon +the whole camp was set to work digging trenches +right across the front of the camp. We had more +rumours of “tremendous British losses,” “breakdown +of French mobilisation,” “stubborn fighting,” but +nothing authentic reached us.</p> + +<p>However, work proceeded feverishly in the camp. +Harfleur was on the main road leading from the north +to Le Havre. It was said that the Germans were advancing, +and this was true. A raiding force of 20,000 +men—one German division—of cavalry, gunners, and +infantry—the latter on fast motor-lorries—was certainly +moving on Le Havre, and the intention was to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_20">[20]</span>destroy the British base dépôt, burn our huge stores, +and capture and sink all the shipping and blow up the +railways. Our camp was to delay this raid till the +French could move up some divisions. Accordingly, +lines of trenches were dug across the turnip fields +and meadows. The farmhouses were surrounded by +trenches and put into a state of defence. The doctors +and stretcher-bearers were ordered to occupy an +orchard about 500 yards in rear of the trenches. There +was an extraordinary resemblance between one old +farmhouse adjoining the camp and the famous +farmhouse of Hougoumont at Waterloo. There was +an old chapel in the centre of the farm, near +to the big two-storied stone dwelling. Behind the +chapel were the wine cellars and stables. To the +right of the house was a long orchard surrounded +by a stone wall about 5 feet high. The farmhouse +and farmyard were surrounded by a high stone wall. +Also there was a big gateway as at Hougoumont. Inside +and lining the stone walls were tall pine trees. +Our men soon began to make some alterations in the +quaint old Norman place. The lower branches of the +trees were lopped off. Trenches were made inside +the stone wall and stones were pulled out of the base +for loopholes for rifles, so that our men could lie in the +ditch and fire through the bottom of the wall. The +same thing was done in the orchard, and men of the Rifle +Brigade were told off to line its walls when the time +came. This farm, if exposed to artillery, of course +would have been a death-trap, but against infantry +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_21">[21]</span>or cavalry would have been a very hornet’s nest +for the enemy to attack. The gateways were pulled +down, barricades were placed across the gaps, and +machine-guns controlled the angles and were able +to sweep the open spaces, should a rush be made, with +a hail of lead.</p> + +<p>All was ready for a second Hougoumont, and the +picture was completed by the old farmer’s wife, who +was ordered to leave the farm, but who firmly refused +to budge. Had the Germans come, like her ancient +prototype on that June day at Waterloo, she would +most likely have taken shelter at the foot of the cross +in the chapel.</p> + +<p>But the Germans did not come, and history is +deprived of a moving and stirring story.</p> + +<p>It was tragic but ludicrous to see the blank despair +and consternation on the face of the old farmer when +we started to lop down some of his trees, dig trenches +round his farm and through his turnip fields. Knowing +very little about the war, and only vaguely interested +in the invasion of France, he was deeply concerned +about his turnips and his trees. Everything, however, +was put right for him before we left.</p> + +<p>When all our preparations for defence were complete +two German aeroplanes passed over us going towards Le +Havre. Here they were fired on, and they then returned +to have a further look at Harfleur and circled slowly +over our camp. As we had no aircraft guns they +descended fairly low, and I think must have seen +everything there was to see. We had field-glasses out +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_22">[22]</span>and could easily discern the black cross painted on the +wings of the Taube.</p> + +<p>So there we were in our trenches commanding the +roads to Le Havre, with a Hougoumont and an orchard, +and stone walls lined with riflemen. History, so far, has +not recorded how we “held the gate” to Le Havre without +firing a shot and without losing a man, but I am +sure that it was our preparations, seen by the enemy +aeroplanes, that deterred the Germans from coming on. +It was a raiding German force, and a raiding force has +no time to tackle defences and strongly held positions. +A brigade of French cavalry moved across our front and +rode as a big cavalry screen towards the advancing +raiders. Fifteen thousand French troops followed them; +and when twelve miles from our camp the Germans +turned back, the menace was over, and we breathed +again.</p> + +<p>A fast scouting motor-car containing three Prussian +officers ran headlong into a barricade cleverly placed +across a road about ten miles from Harfleur. A ditch, +broad but shallow, was made across the road near a curve, +and artfully concealed with gravel laid on thin planking +across the top. The car rushed right on to this and was +upset. Some concealed French cavalry then rode up +and captured the party.</p> + +<p>The French officer who made the capture told me that +the German officers were livid with anger when he and +his men rode up with drawn sabres. One of the German +officers had a revolver in his hand, which he flung +violently at the head of the chauffeur.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_23">[23]</span></p> + +<p>This defence of the road at Harfleur was one of +those minor incidents of the war which has been forgotten +or ignored in the swirl of the big happenings at that +time. The situation of Le Havre and Harfleur was then +one of grave peril and gave rise to considerable anxiety. +One need not have been on the spot to grasp the +dangerous possibilities. Our defence of Harfleur ended +tamely. We were told one day that Lord Kitchener +was at Le Havre and had ordered the evacuation of the +big base by the British. That night we were ordered +by our commandant to strike the camp, move into +Le Havre, and embark on transports for a destination +unknown.</p> + +<p>The day before we left Le Havre some British +stragglers from our retreating army turned up in camp. +About twenty-five dirty, grimy, footsore men, with +unkempt hair and stubbly beards, wandered in and told +us that they had lost their regiments and their way after +Mons. Since then they had been gipsying through France +towards the coast. Sometimes they got a lift on a +farmer’s cart, but mostly they walked. They said that +the French people had treated them very well, and they +certainly did not look hungry. As usual, they told most +harrowing tales. One man said that the whole army +had been captured by an army of twenty million +Germans!</p> + +<p>On the morning of our last day at Harfleur we were +all thrilled by the visit of a German spy. I have said +previously that when the trenches were being dug +at Harfleur the medical detachment was sent to an +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_24">[24]</span>orchard in the rear. A road led past the gate of this +orchard. At the gateway we had two of our men on +sentry-go. Farther down the road was a French sentry +with a fixed bayonet. At 3 a.m. a powerful two-seater +automobile dashed up this road and pulled up at +the gateway. The driver had on a heavy khaki motor +overcoat and a khaki cap. His face was muffled in a +khaki scarf. An officer, also in khaki, stepped out and +began questioning our men at the gate. He asked +how many men were in the camp; were there any big +guns, and where were they? Had any ammunition +been brought up that day? Our sentries were heavy +north-countrymen, recently enlisted, and did not +tumble to the fact that it was an unusual thing for a +British officer to put such questions to a private on +sentry-go. The officer then got on his car and went +back in the direction of Le Havre. We were all agreed +that the strange officer was a spy dressed up to look +like a British officer. The French told us that Le Havre +was full of spies at this time, and that they had made +many arrests of suspects.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_25">[25]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_III">CHAPTER III.<br> +<span class="smaller">FROM LE HAVRE TO THE BAY OF BISCAY.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>We knew that serious events must have happened +when K. of K. had personally visited Le Havre and had +ordered its evacuation. It was Napoleon who said that +it was a disastrous thing to attempt to change an +army’s base during the actual progress of a war. But +in this war old maxims and trite sayings go by the +board. Anyone having the most elementary knowledge +of war, and what an army in the field signifies, will +agree that even if changing a base may not lead to disaster, +it is nevertheless a very formidable and a very +risky move. Le Havre at this time was a huge base from +which our army in the field was receiving its supplies. +Transports conveying all the necessaries for a fighting +army unloaded their cargoes on its wharves. From +there the supplies were sent by train to the advanced +base in the centre of France, and from there onward to +the various refilling stations. The destruction of Le +Havre, or its temporary loss as a base, would have +been a calamity. The army would have ceased to +receive food, waggons, ammunition and equipment, +guns, horses, forage, reinforcements, hospital supplies, +etc. An army without ammunition and food is no longer +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_26">[26]</span>of any fighting value. Think also of the quantities of +material necessary to supply an army of 70,000 men, +and this will give some idea of the immense war dépôt +Le Havre was at this time. Circumstances must have +indeed been serious to have necessitated a change of +base. It meant also that the railway arrangements +so carefully thought out, and which had so far been +in operation, would have to be suddenly changed. +Supply trains would have to be sent to the front from +some other base, and returning empty supply trains +and hospital trains would have to be diverted from +Le Havre to the place chosen as the future base. The +task was a gigantic one, and was rendered more so +because it had to be completed in a hurry.</p> + +<p>We reached Le Havre from Harfleur in the late afternoon. +A large convoy of Belgian ambulances full of +wounded was moving through the streets towards the +wharves, and a French Infantry Division passed us in +full panoply of war going east. Six large transports +with steam up were lying at the wharves. The wharves +were a scene of unparalleled activity, and when one got +right down amidst this activity and looked around, one +could realise that things were very chaotic. Every one +was shouting and cursing; contradictory orders were +given; some stores which had just been loaded in one +of the holds of one transport were being again unloaded. +Through careless handling a huge crate of iron bedsteads +for a military hospital fell into the sea between the +ship and the wharf. But as the stores were Government +property—therefore nobody’s property—no one seemed +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_27">[27]</span>to mind very much. The stage between the ship and the +big sheds was packed with all sorts of goods in inextricable +confusion. Here were bales of hospital blankets +dumped on kegs of butter, there boxes of biscuits lying +packed in a corner, with a forgotten hose-pipe playing +water on them. Inside the sheds were machine-guns, +heavy field pieces, ammunition, some aeroplanes, crowds +of ambulance waggons, London buses, heavy transport +waggons, kitchens, beds, tents for a general hospital, +stacks of rifles, bales of straw, mountainous bags of oats, +flour, beef, potatoes, crates of bully beef, telephones and +telegraphs, water carts, field kitchens, unending rolls of +barbed wire, shovels, picks, and so on. All had been +brought into the sheds and left there in a higgledy-piggledy +fashion. An Army Service man was trying in +despair to get some forage on board; a colonel of the +Medical Staff was trying to get his Base Hospital on +board. There was apparently no <i>single</i> brain in control, +and the loading of the ships went on in the most extraordinary +way. Things nearest the ship’s side were put +in first. Part of a Base Hospital was put in with part +of a Battery, followed by bundles of compressed straw +fodder and boxes of soap.</p> + +<p>The transport <i>Turcoman</i> was full of troops. There +seemed to be thousands of them on board, and the decks +were packed with men. On walking up the gangway I +was met by the officer commanding the troops, and he +told me that I could not be allowed on board with any +men as the ship was already overcrowded. I told him +that my orders were to embark on the <i>Turcoman</i>, but +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_28">[28]</span>the reply, “Very sorry indeed, but it can’t be done,” +settled the matter.</p> + +<p>So I descended, and with difficulty picked my way +along another wharf and found another transport, the +<i>Cestrian</i>, also a centre of the same scene of bustle and +activity as the <i>Turcoman</i>. The <i>Cestrian</i> was crowded +with soldiers, and was being frantically loaded up with +all sorts of goods, from aeroplanes to bandages.</p> + +<p>I got my men on board and told them to make themselves +as comfortable as they could on deck, and after +some searching round at last found a corner of the +smoking-room which would serve me for a bed for the +night. Here my servant dumped down my valise.</p> + +<p>I was unable to find out the destination of the <i>Turcoman</i>; +nobody seemed to know, but there were rumours +that it was to be “somewhere in the Bay of Biscay.” +Nobody knew where the <i>Cestrian</i> was going. As my +orders were to travel by the <i>Turcoman</i>, and as I was +really on the <i>Cestrian</i>, I was anxious to find out if the +destination of the two boats was to be the same port. +But nobody could tell me, so I lit my pipe of tobacco, +leaned over the ship’s side, and never troubled any more +about my orders. I really did not know whether the +<i>Cestrian</i> was going to England or another part of France, +or the Black Sea for that matter.</p> + +<p>The scene on the <i>Cestrian</i> was a strange one. It was +now quite dark and the loading of the cargo was carried +out under electric flares. There were on board 2600 +soldiers and 600 horses. These unfortunate horses +had been put on board twenty-four hours before the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_29">[29]</span>troops embarked, instead of the other way about, and +the smell from the hot, stifling horse-boxes was overpowering. +Why these poor beasts were not embarked +last of all, was a mystery. Imagine 600 horses cooped +up in narrow boxes during a long, hot, stifling summer +day, when they could easily have been kept at the horse +dépôt close by till the last minute!</p> + +<p>One horse died before we started, and was slung out +by ropes on to the wharf.</p> + +<p>This horse episode was the occasion of much scathing +comment amongst senior officers and old cavalry and +artillery non-coms.</p> + +<p>It is a pity that some of the higher command—those +responsible—could not have heard the remarks of these +knowing old non-commissioned officers.</p> + +<p>At last the ship’s holds were full. Gangways were +up and we dropped slowly down the locks to the Seine +mouth, and so out into the Channel. We were met by a +fierce, gusty head wind and welcomed it for the horses’ +sakes. Large wind ventilators were arranged to allow +the fresh air to reach the horse-boxes.</p> + +<p>Our men slept on the decks, and there were so many +of them that to step one’s way over them would have +been almost impossible.</p> + +<p>The dining-rooms, cabins, and smoking-rooms were +full of sleeping or dozing officers. I managed to commandeer +an old sofa cushion, and lay on that in the +corner of the smoking-room and went to sleep, and +dreamt of thousands of horses looking reproachfully +at me out of boxes.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_30">[30]</span></p> + +<p>At break of day we were all up at bugle-call and soon +washed. The ship’s cook was a man of some eminence +in his profession, for he had provided porridge and milk, +ham and eggs, bread and butter and tea for our breakfast, +and, filled with amazement, we sat round to enjoy it. +Generally of meals on a transport there are none. A +big cruiser was seen after breakfast to be bearing rapidly +down on us, and the usual “optimist” present, after +carefully observing her through a telescope, pronounced +her nationality as German, and that it was now a +watery grave in the Bay of Biscay for 2600 men and 600 +horses. As she came nearer we showed our flag, and she +displayed the French ensign. We gave her our number +and dipped our bit of bunting, and the great ironclad +sheered off. It was a relief to know that she was about, +and looking after our transports.</p> + +<p>On the way out from Le Havre we passed the United +States battleship <i>Tennessee</i>, and our men seeing some of +her sailors standing in a group gazing at us, gave a cheer +and the usual “Are we downhearted? No!” greeting. +The American sailors gave a real good hearty cheer, and +yells of “good luck”; but an officer then ran up to them +and said something, and they became suddenly silent, +and only waved their hands. They had probably been +told by their officer that they were “neutrals,” and +belonged to the battleship of a nation friendly to all the +belligerents. But we knew that they were with us +“inside,” and anyhow the Americans have not been +neutral in their hearts. They are all “for us” and “for +the Allies.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_31">[31]</span></p> + +<p>Life on board our transport was uneventful. We +smoked and slept and ate. There was no room to walk +about. I never saw such a crowded ship.</p> + +<p>We had on board the complete <i>personnel</i> of a Base +Hospital, and the medical officer commanding told me +that he had orders to pitch his hospital at once at +Nantes in order to take in wounded, as there was a big +demand for more beds. In spite of his utmost endeavours +he could not get his hospital equipment on the <i>Cestrian</i>.</p> + +<p>All the instruments, dressings, and X-ray apparatus +had been left behind for another boat, and he thought +that he might not be able to get them for another week, +or perhaps longer.</p> + +<p>This was but another example of the lack of control +at Le Havre during the change of base; a hospital was +badly wanted at Nantes; all the <i>personnel</i> and half the +equipment were sent away, and the other half left on the +wharves. We learned later that the holds of our boat +the <i>Cestrian</i> were not full when she left Le Havre, but +that she had been ordered to leave on account of the +horses being in such a bad state from the hot, stifling +atmosphere in their quarters below decks.</p> + +<p>It was necessary to proceed to sea to get a current +of cold air down the ventilating shafts to the horses’ +cribs. This senseless blundering over the horses led +to the death of several of the poor beasts, and besides +crippled a Base Hospital at a time when it was urgently +needed. Over and over again during this war one has +met with instances of a want of reasoned judgment on +the part of senior controlling officers. In certain +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_32">[32]</span>emergencies they have been unable to “orientate” +themselves—to use an Americanism—or to “envisage” +a situation.</p> + +<p>Blunders, slips, miscalculations, carelessness, in time +of war mean the loss of valuable lives. We want alert, +clear-brained, thinking men in all responsible posts. +If a senior officer shows himself lacking in these essentials—then +he must go. Many of the responsible French +army officials at the beginning of the campaign proved +themselves lacking in initiative and judgment. Joffre +sent these officers to “Limoges.” We should send our +incapables to “Stellenbosch.” Both places are indicative +of a quiet retirement, where they can live without +thinking, where there are quiet clubs, cigars and cocktails, +and comfortable chairs for an afternoon nap. +The good ship <i>Cestrian</i> was a very fine steamer, but a +very dirty one at this epoch. She badly wanted a clean-up. +The lavatories and water-closets were indescribably +filthy and foul, and acrid ammoniacal fumes permeated +the ship. No attempt was made at ordinary cleanliness, +and no disinfectants were employed. Words could +hardly describe the appallingly filthy state of the urinals +and closets. It would have been so very simple to have +made things cleaner. A sanitary squad could have +been arranged in a few minutes to keep these places +tidy and to maintain some control. But what was +every one’s business was nobody’s business, and nothing +was done during the three days and nights we were at +sea.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus04" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus04.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption> + <p><span class="smcap">Transport “Cestrian” in the Bay of Biscay.</span></p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus05" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus05.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption> + <p><span class="smcap">The “Cestrian” at St. Nazaire.</span></p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>As our ship approached the mouth of the Loire we +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_33">[33]</span>saw three large transports ahead of us and four more +were following up behind. We slowly steamed through +the narrow lock entrance to St. Nazaire and, after the +usual delay in getting alongside, finally tied up to the +wharf. The day was stiflingly hot and dusty, and we +were glad to leave our ship and get on shore. The +horses were at once unloaded, and very bad the poor +beasts looked. It was pleasant, however, to see them, +once they were on land, looking round and neighing +with evident pleasure.</p> + +<p>The troops were marched out to a large field or a dry +salt marsh some few miles out of town. A rest camp +or camp for army details was being rapidly arranged, +and areas were being marked out for the various units,—gunners, +engineers, and infantry regiments, and there +was considerable bustle. No tents had yet arrived +and the camp was quite exposed. Fortunately, the +weather was good and sleeping out was no hardship. +I reported my arrival to the camp commandant, and he +said that he did not know where I had to go or what I +had to do. He told me to “wait round and see what +turned up.” At this period one’s arrival was always +unexpected. We always got a smile of welcome and +were always told to “wait round.” There was never +any demonstrative hurry. John Bull on the job doesn’t +make much fuss. I think that he does not make enough. +As there was nothing to do apparently, and as nobody +seemed to want me, I strolled back to the city of St. +Nazaire and had afternoon tea in a pleasant café.</p> + +<p>As I was leaving the café I met the A.D.M.S. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_34">[34]</span>(Assistant Director of Medical Services). He asked +me what duty I was on. I told him that I had just +arrived and had reported my arrival, and was really +wondering myself why I was at St. Nazaire. The +A.D.M.S. said, “We are wanting medical officers urgently +at the front. Would you please come with me.” On +our way to the office he explained that “the medical +service had received some losses—casualties and missing, +that there were a lot of wounded and a lack of hospital +necessaries.” He asked me if I had any “bandages, +wool, or lint with me.” I had none, of course, and the +A.D.M.S. said that he had none to spare for the front. +I thought of the Base Hospital on the <i>Cestrian</i> landed +with only half its equipment, and of what a wonderful +nation we are, and what a magnificent organiser John +Bull is when he is really “on the job.”</p> + +<p>I received written orders from the A.D.M.S. to +proceed by train at 4 a.m. next day to Le Mans, and +report arrival and await orders there. Le Mans was the +“advanced base” of the British army. I learned here +also that our gallant army was retreating towards Paris, +and fighting stubbornly against overwhelming numbers +of Germans flushed with victory, and I was very glad +to get orders to join up with my countrymen and get a +chance of “doing my bit” also.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_35">[35]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IV">CHAPTER IV.<br> +<span class="smaller">FROM THE BAY OF BISCAY TO EAST OF PARIS.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>After having received these definite orders I got my +kit again conveyed to the <i>Cestrian</i> transport and slept +that night in my old corner of the smoking-room. At +2.45 a.m. the surgeons detailed to join the army were +up. A hasty cup of coffee and an apology for a wash—and +we were down the ship-side, and on the way to the +<i>gare</i>. The railway station at St. Nazaire at this time +looked quite picturesque in the early morning. Its +platforms were covered with straw, and rows of sleeping +French soldiers lay comfortably around, while a stolid +Grenadier sentry stood propped against the wall. +There is no hurry at a French military station. The +train was timed to start at 4 a.m., but that did not +matter. At 5 a.m. it was quite ready. “C’est la +guerre.”</p> + +<p>There were five of us travelling together—all medical +officers—two Scotchmen, one Irishman, one Englishman, +and one New Zealander. A very gruff Railway +Transport officer gave me a military pass for the party. +This gave us permission, we noticed, to travel to Paris +viâ Le Mans. The pass was signed by the French +authorities, but we were never asked to show it again. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_36">[36]</span>The khaki uniform proclaimed we were British, the +Sam Browne belt and stars showed we were officers, +and the red-cross brassards on our left arms indicated +our particular line of business. As the train moved off +we wished our Railway Transport officer—an Englishman—a +good morning, but this seemed to offend him, +for he glared at us. Our Irish surgeon remarked that +all Railway Transport officers were queer fish and very +unpopular. Perhaps their particular specialty makes +them so, but I have never heard an R.T.O. referred to +in any other but denunciatory terms. A sanguinary +adjective is always prefixed to the mystic trinity R.T.O. +It is said that they lead unhappy lives and generally +die of long, lingering illnesses. We soon settled down +comfortably in our luxurious first-class carriage and +tried to get to know each other. No very difficult task +amongst doctors, who are generally most sociable +animals. One of us was a specialist in fevers and had +passed most of his days in typhoid and scarlet fever +wards. One was a neurologist, with pronounced views +on the power of suggestion in treating cases of incipient +insanity. One was a pure physician, who said that the +surgeons were not men of science but merely craftsmen, +and were too fond of using the knife.</p> + +<p>The surgeons, as became their calling, treated all +criticism with good-humoured complaisance. We +talked a lot about the duties of the doctor in this war, +and we were all very curious to know the rôle played +by a doctor when he was attached to a cavalry +regiment, to a battery, or to a field ambulance. None +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_37">[37]</span>of us knew very much about it, but we all were agreed +that we had somehow to get alongside Mr. Thomas +Atkins when he was wounded in battle, get him to a safe +place, and give him of our best. Curiously enough, +although we were all scattered later on to various units +of different divisions, I met all my fellow-travellers +again one time or another in the firing line. One of the +Scotchmen I met just as he came out from under heavy +shrapnel fire, and I asked him how he liked it. His +reply is not printable. One I met in a field ambulance +later with sleeves rolled up and busy dressing the +wounds of a crowd of men just brought in from the +firing line. One I met in a town in northern France +looking cold and wet and miserable, and asked him also +how he liked the war. He gave an expressive shrug. +I have not met anyone yet who liked the war, except +artillery officers.</p> + +<p>Our train travelled slowly from St. Nazaire along +the Loire to the capital city of Nantes. This charming +city is situated on the banks of the delightful river. +We had a lot of khaki and French soldiers on board the +train, and as usual they fraternised well together. +Tommy Atkins gets on amazingly well with the French +piou-piou, and the French grenadier chaffs Tommy a +lot and enjoys his company. When they get together +they exchange caps for a time. This is a sign of unalterable +friendship.</p> + +<p>To see a French Cuirassier wearing a khaki cap and +a Highlander in kilts wearing a Cuirassier’s casque +with its flowing horsetails always excited the merriment +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_38">[38]</span>and loud “vives” of the French people. The kilts +of our Highlanders are also greatly admired by the +French. They were consumed with curiosity to know +if the Scotchmen wore any trousers under them. Khaki +was a great novelty along the Loire valley at this time, +and our appearance roused tremendous enthusiasm +and applause. At Nantes the good people brought us +baskets of apples, and little French flags which we duly +stuck on our coats or caps and wore till the train +steamed out of the station.</p> + +<p>Crowds of people rushed down to the railway platform +to see us and cheer us on our way. Tommy’s +“Are we downhearted?” and its stentorian “No!” had +a very optimistic sound, and the French liked it.</p> + +<p>At Angers the train stopped two hours, and the +officers strolled round the town. The men were not +allowed off the platform. Angers, the ancient capital +of the old Counts of Anjou, is a delightfully sleepy city. +A princess of Anjou was in the long ago a Queen of +England, and a fine statue to her memory stands in the +centre of the town. It was dressed with an intertwined +Union Jack and the Tricolor when we were +there.</p> + +<p>The old castle of Angers, with its deep moat and +castellated towers, has withstood the ravages of +centuries and is one of the finest examples of mediæval +military masonry. Our walk through this city excited +considerable comment and notice. It was Sunday, +and a big congregation just leaving church stopped +to stare at us and possibly to wonder why khaki was in +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_39">[39]</span>Angers. As we passed a café crowded with loungers +sipping wine and coffee at the little tables on the street, +all stood up to look at us. We felt very embarrassed +and did not much like the novel experience, so sat +round a small table ourselves, and while drinking our +wine turned round to look at the people also. A French +colonel caught our eye, and one of our party held a glass +towards him, saying, “Vive la France!” The effect +was theatrical: all jumped up, and lifting their glasses +shouted, “Vive l’Angleterre!” “Vive l’entente cordiale!” +Several French officers and citizens with ladies pulled +up their chairs to our table, and we all drank wine very +sociably together. One of our party of surgeons had +been educated as a youth in Belgium and was an +excellent French linguist. The people were all very +anxious to hear the latest news. We had none to give +except that large British reinforcements were coming +over, and that England was now fairly on the job. In +these early days of the war, when everything in France +was “electrical,” such sentiments were always cheerfully +received. We drank a good many toasts before we +left, and had our photographs taken three times. Just +before the train started crowds of gentlemen and ladies, +old and young, shook hands with us in the usual French +way, with the left hand as often as the right. One +beautiful and sparkling little French lady embarrassed +one of us by a sudden warm embrace and a sisterly +kiss on the cheek. The surprise of the khaki man was +only momentary, and the lady, in return, was well and +truly kissed on the lips. We were all sorry to leave +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_40">[40]</span>Angers, the city was charming, the wine was excellent +and the people were most entertaining.</p> + +<p>After Angers we had a long and dreary night ride to +Le Mans. One curious incident occurred during the +night. Our train was pulled into a siding at a small +station and held there for three hours. At the end of +this time a train, made up of forty-one huge locomotive +engines, thundered by at sixty miles an hour going south. +We were told that these were Belgian engines sent south +to escape capture by the Germans.</p> + +<p>In the cold shiver of a dark morning we bundled +out at Le Mans, and at once made a dash for the railway +buffet and got hot coffee and rolls. I then found my +way with some difficulty in the darkness to the quarters +of the A.D.M.S., to whom I had to report our arrival. +He was in bed when I arrived, but got up and took my +report. As usual he was surprised to know we were +coming, and our visit was naturally an unexpected +pleasure. He told us that we should have gone right +on to Paris, as surgeons were badly wanted with the +army which was retreating on to Paris. We were +always being told that doctors were urgently required +and were always delayed. We had definite orders to +get out at Le Mans and report. The orders were in +writing. No one was more anxious than we were to +push rapidly on, and we chafed at the continual delays. +The A.D.M.S. could not tell us when we would be able +to get away from Le Mans as the train service was +erratic. We were advised to “hang about the railway +station” till “some train” started for the front. As +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_41">[41]</span>this was highly unsatisfactory, I tried to find out how +matters stood myself.</p> + +<p>The stationmaster did not know when a train would +start for Paris, as the line was blocked farther on by the +military mobilisation. I found out, however, that a +supply train conveying provisions and supplies for our +men was to leave from Maroc some time during the day. +Maroc was a small siding five miles from Le Mans. +Here trains were made up for the various Army Corps. +Maroc is a desert of sand and a truly desolate spot. +We got our kits and a box of medical supplies—obtained +with great difficulty at Le Mans—conveyed to this +miniature Morocco, and we camped on the sand under +the doubtful shade of the only two trees the place +possessed, till 4 o’clock that afternoon. The only +excitement was seeing a huge locomotive run off the +track and block shunting operations for two hours. +At last our huge supply train was ready. We all got +into an empty guard’s van and disposed our valises in the +various corners. Two officers of the Royal Flying Corps +joined us here and found accommodation in a waggon +loaded with bags of wheat. We all clubbed together +for mess, and laid in a stock of sardines, bread, butter, +and a dozen bottles of red wine and cider. We learned +from our flying friends that the army was retiring every +day, and was supposed to be making for Paris.</p> + +<p>We got some definite news for the first time of our +big engagements at Mons, Landrecies, and Le Cateau, +and how our army was furiously attacked and compelled +to fall back, and that although the retirement at +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_42">[42]</span>first was precipitate it soon became ordered and steady. +We were also told that there were over 15,000 casualties, +and that the medical arrangements had quite broken +down. However, we had a sublime faith in our own +countrymen, and knew that they would come out all +right, somehow, somewhere.</p> + +<p>At daybreak our train reached Tours, and at Blois +we had a welcome wash and a decent cup of coffee. Our +quarters in the guard’s van had been most cramped +and uncomfortable, and we were all anxious to leave the +old tortoise of a train. At midday we passed through +Orleans, and here French officers told us that the +Germans were advancing on Paris, and in spite of +prodigious losses were hacking their way through by +weight of numbers and numberless batteries of artillery. +We were told that the British army was to form part +of the garrison of Paris, that Paris was fully prepared +for a long siege, and that President Poincaré and the +Government were at Bordeaux. All these rumours +gave rise to keen discussions, and they certainly helped +to while the time away in our dreary old van.</p> + +<p>During the night we passed through Paris, and at +break of day pulled up at the railway siding of +Coulommiers.</p> + +<p>The railway siding was full of ambulance trains, +British and French. All the trains were filled with +recently wounded men, and we got our first information +that we were close to the actual scene of fighting. One +French medical officer had rigged up a small dressing +station on the station platform. An upturned box +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_43">[43]</span>held his dressings, instruments, and antiseptics, and +he had about twenty-five wounded Frenchmen all +round him patiently waiting their turn. Most of them +were slight cases, for the serious ones had already been +put aboard the hospital trains.</p> + +<p>Coulommiers at this time was the refilling point for +the Army Service Corps, and our supply train was +emptied here.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_44">[44]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_V">CHAPTER V.<br> +<span class="smaller">THE ADVANCE TO THE MARNE.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>Coulommiers at this time looked a little bit <i>dégagé</i>. +It had been occupied by the Germans some days +previously, and now the British had it. The French +inhabitants were in Paris. The narrow old streets +looked very cheerful and inviting when I passed through, +for our Army Service men had several fires merrily +blazing at the side of the <i>pavé</i>, and the smell of frying +bacon and roasting coffee beans was inviting and +appetising. Signs of the German occupation were +everywhere apparent. Round the ashes of their fires +in the side streets and square were the charred remains +of old and valuable furniture—a carved leg of an old +chair, a piece of the frame of a big mirror, a bit of a +door, and so on. I think the German soldier enjoyed +the novel sensation of cooking his food over burning +cabinets and tables and chairs made in the times +of the Louis’ of France. Our men were extremely +careful to avoid damage to French property and made +their fires of chopped wood logs. Tommy has good +feelings and is always a gentleman, and he genuinely +pitied the French in their despoiled towns.</p> + +<p>My orders were to report to the Principal Medical +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_45">[45]</span>Officer of the 5th Division of the 2nd Army. I could +not find out where the 5th Division headquarters was, +but ascertained that the 2nd Army headquarters was at +the small hamlet of Doui, three miles away. My next +problem was how to get there with my kit. Luckily, +I found a motor-car driver about to start for the headquarters +and he offered me a lift. This driver was one +of the many gentlemen of leisure who had volunteered +for service at the beginning of the war. He took out +his own car at first and it broke down during the retreat, +so he abandoned it by the roadside and got another +car, the driver of which had been killed. We set off +from Coulommiers at a rattling pace and passed part +of the 3rd Division on the way. The headquarters +of General Smith-Dorrien, the Commander of the 2nd +Army, was a little cluster of houses by the roadside, +and when we arrived the whole staff were standing +by the road, while the grooms stood near holding their +horses. Smith-Dorrien with another staff officer was +poring over a map and indicating some spot on it +with his finger. The Principal Medical Officer, Colonel +Porter of the Army Medical Staff, now Surgeon-General +Porter, was just coming out of a cottage, and I walked +up, saluted, and reported my arrival. The Colonel +gave me a cheery greeting, asked if I had breakfasted, +and noticing the South African War ribbon on my +tunic, said that as I had seen service before I would +soon be quite at home. He asked me where I came +from, and when told that it was New Zealand, inquired +if the trout-fishing was still good. New Zealand seems +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_46">[46]</span>to be principally known in England for its excellent +trout streams.</p> + +<p>I was then told to report to the officer commanding +a section of the 15th Field Ambulance, which was lying +about 500 yards farther down the road. I reported +to Major O—— of the Royal Army Medical Corps, +who told me that he was waiting to evacuate some +wounded to Coulommiers before moving up to rejoin +the headquarters of the ambulance which was advancing +with the 15th Infantry Brigade. There were +sixteen wounded British in a small farmhouse beside +the road. They were lying on straw on the floor and +the wounds of all of them had been dressed. When +I entered they were drinking milk supplied by the old +farmer and his wife. This old farmhouse had been +occupied by the Germans two days previously, and the +old farmer brought me through the house to show +what the Huns had done. His two wooden bedsteads +had been smashed. All his wife’s clothes had been +taken out of a chest of drawers and torn up, and the +chest had been battered badly with an axe. The +windows were broken and two legs of the kitchen table +had been chopped off. An old family clock lay battered +in a corner, and an ancient sporting gun was broken +in two. The farmer showed me one of his wife’s old +bonnets which had been thrown into the fire by these +lovely Germans and partially burned. Fancy burning +an old woman’s bonnet! All the fowls and chickens +had been killed. Two German soldiers got into the +fowlyard and struck all the birds down with their +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_47">[47]</span>bayonets. A fine Normandy dog lay dead at the +garden gate, shot by a German non-commissioned +officer because the poor beast barked at him.</p> + +<p>The old-fashioned furniture and adornments of the +house had been destroyed. All of the pictures were +broken except two—one of these was a framed picture +of Pope Leo <span class="allsmcap">XIII.</span>, and the other was one representing +the Crucifixion. We guessed that the German +troops must have been Bavarians, who are mostly +Catholic.</p> + +<p>I have described this wrecked home as it was typical +of hundreds of others that I have seen in France. +It all seemed so stupid, so senseless, so paltry, and +mean. Conceive the frightfulness of burning an old +lady’s bonnet and smashing an old clock that had +been in the family’s possession for three generations, +and had ticked the minutes to the farmer’s folk and +whose face had been looked at by those long since dead. +The old farmer was in tears and very miserable. He +said that the German soldiers were very drunk and had +brought a lot of bottles of champagne with them, +round which they spent a very hilarious night. One +of the men had a very fine voice and sang a German +drinking song, whilst the others hiccuped the chorus. +There were certainly a lot of empty champagne bottles +lying about, and I don’t think that the old farmer’s +beverage ever soared above <i>vin rouge</i>, so the bottles +must have been German loot.</p> + +<p>About eleven o’clock, while we were still waiting +for returning empty supply waggons to take off our +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_48">[48]</span>wounded, we heard that some German prisoners were +being marched in. This caused some excitement, and, +speaking for myself, I was consumed with curiosity +to see some specimens of this great German army +and observe what manner of men they were. Under a +strong guard of cavalry three hundred prisoners with +about ten officers were marched into a field close to +our farmhouse. It was laughable to see our old farmer. +He rushed frantically up the road, his eyes blazing +with excitement and joy, and stood gazing at his +country’s enemies with an expression of malicious joy +and delight.</p> + +<p>I was struck with the appearance of these prisoners. +They were very tired, absolutely done in, and marched +along the road with a most bedraggled and weary step. +Were these the men who had goose-stepped through +Belgium’s stately capital and had pushed the united +armies of France and England before them in one of the +most rapid marches in history? They were utterly +broken down with fatigue, and their famished expression +and wolfish eyes betokened the hardships they had +recently undergone. When they were halted in the +field they simply rolled on to the ground from sheer +exhaustion. On looking closer, however, one could +see that they were fine soldiers, athletic, well-built, +lean, wiry fellows, with shaven heads and prominent +features, slim-waisted and broad-shouldered, clothed +in smart, well-fitting, bluish-grey uniforms, well-shod +with good serviceable boots, each with a light water-bottle +clipped to his belt and a haversack over the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_49">[49]</span>shoulder; certainly no fault could be found with them +as specimens of muscular and active soldiery.</p> + +<p>The officers, disdaining to show fatigue, sat by +themselves in a group apart and smoked pipes and +cigarettes. The famished men were supplied with +British bully beef and biscuits, and buckets of water +were brought to them for drink. They at once threw +off their exhaustion and simply rushed the food. We +realised that they had been marched to a stop, and that +the commissariat of that particular Army Corps must have +broken down. The augury was a good one. Amongst +them were some slightly wounded men—principally +hand, scalp, and face wounds. These we dressed, and +the men seemed very grateful to the medical officers +for what was done. One of my men, with a slight +shrapnel wound of the wrist, after I had dressed and +bandaged it, seized my hand and kissed it. That is +the German way, perhaps, but un-British, and I do not +love things German or un-British to-day. One of the +men had a slight wound, but a very painful one owing +to a small shell splinter sticking on to a nerve. Lieut. +M’C—— administered a few whiffs of chloroform while +I extracted the fragment of iron. Poor M’C—— +remarked to me that this was the first anæsthetic +that he had administered during the war, although +he had been through the whole retreat from Mons, +and that it was for a German. I say poor M’C——; +this splendid young doctor was killed later on in +Flanders while gallantly attending wounded in the +trenches under a hellish shrapnel fire. This group of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_50">[50]</span>prisoners belonged to the Jägers of the Prussian Guard, +one of the best infantry units in the German Army. We +were all very pleased that they had been bagged, and +I don’t think that they worried much about it themselves. +The officers, however, seemed very sullen—that +also pleased us.</p> + +<p>Shortly after the arrival of the Guard Jägers some +empty motor supply waggons, returning from the +front, were stopped. We packed plenty of straw on +them and put our wounded British and Germans comfortably +on top, and sent them all off to the hospital +train at Coulommiers. Then our commanding officer, +Major O——, gave the order to our ambulance drivers +to harness up the horses and prepare to trek. We +knew that our army was making a stand at last, and that +the long retreat from Belgium was over.</p> + +<p>All the morning heavy firing was heard on our front +towards the river Marne, and we were not sure what +was happening. We knew that our cavalry was at +work somewhere, for the Guard Jägers had been +bagged by our horsemen, but more than that we did +not know. However, we were soon on the road, and +following Napoleon’s maxim to his Generals—always to +march on the firing. The roads were terribly dusty, +the day was hot and sultry, and a blazing sun beat +mercilessly down upon us. We all cursed our caps, +and certainly the present khaki cap supplied to our +officers and men deserves a curse. It gives no protection +to the head or neck in summer, and in rainy +weather it is soon soaked.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_51">[51]</span></p> + +<p>Marching on foot behind lumbering ambulance +waggons on a dusty road, and under a hot sun, is no +picnic. Eyes get full of dust, throat gets parched, feet +get hot, and the khaki uniform wraps round one like a +sticky blanket. So for many miles we marched, and +all the time the sound of the guns became more and +more distinct and intense. We passed St. Ouen and +by St. Cyr, and at 4.30 o’clock we seemed to be in the +centre of the artillery thunder area. Great guns were +screeching and roaring all round us, and some of the +enemy’s shells were bursting to our left front near the +road along which we were moving. We were then ordered +to pull our waggons off the road and bivouac them +under a clump of trees near at hand in order to conceal +them from enemy aeroplanes, which were hovering +high up in the blue. The reason for at times concealing +a Field Ambulance is that when a column is on the +march the Field Ambulance has a definite position in the +column; generally it is behind the ammunition column. +The ambulance waggons, with their big white tented +covers and conspicuous red crosses, are often the most +prominent features on the road. The enemy flying-man +when he sees a Field Ambulance knows that there +is at least a brigade consisting of four battalions and +an ammunition column in front of it, and he can then +direct his gunners to plant their shells in front of the +ambulance and so get the ammunition column and the +brigade. Hence the necessity for sometimes hiding +the whereabouts of a Field Ambulance.</p> + +<p>After we had bivouacked, our section cook managed +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_52">[52]</span>to light a fire in a hollow in a clump of trees, and soon +brought us a much-desired mess of fried mutton, good +bread and marmalade, and a can of tea. We rushed this +as badly as the German prisoners did the bully beef +earlier in the day.</p> + +<p>It was an odd meal, as we sat by the roadside viewing +a desperate artillery duel, and between sips of tea snatching +up field-glasses to gaze at the bursting shells on +the ridges held by the angry Germans.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_53">[53]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VI">CHAPTER VI.<br> +<span class="smaller">WHAT I SAW OF THE BATTLE OF THE MARNE.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>In a battle one really sees very little and knows very +little of what is going on, except in the near neighbourhood. +The broad perspective, the great view of a +battle, cannot be seen by one pair of eyes. This can +only be understood and appreciated afterwards when +facts and events are gathered together and dovetailed +to form the battle story. When I was sitting by the +roadside on this August afternoon, amidst the crashing +and shrieking of the guns, the bursting of the shells, +the furious crackling of the rifles, and the snarling +notes of the machine-guns, I guessed that a battle was +in progress and that we were blazing furiously at an +enemy who was blazing furiously back at us. Beyond +that, I did not know very much. During the +night I learned a good deal more of the day’s +events. But the whole story was not connected up +till many days afterwards. I am quite sure that +the people of London knew more about the battle of +the Marne from the War bulletins than I did, although +I was one of the humble units present in the actual +fighting.</p> + +<p>On this sultry summer day our ambulance section +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_54">[54]</span>was resting by the side of the dusty road that stretched +in our rear towards Paris and on our front towards a +lovely green valley at the bottom of which meandered +the river Marne. It wound its sinuous way from our +far right to our near left. Directly before us, and on +the distant side of the river, was a steep ridge, part of a +low chain of uplands which rolled hazily away to the +right and stopped abruptly in clear-cut lines in our +front. The road beside which we sat, dipped into +the valley and crossed the river on a fine stone bridge +and continued through the undulating country beyond +to the north. Small villages were scattered about—Mery +to the right, Saccy at the bridgehead, and small +clusters of houses and farms on the countryside over +the river. Some squadrons of dismounted cavalrymen +were standing by their horses in a meadow near the +bank of the river. These horsemen had been busy +earlier in the day, and had done some hard riding, +cutting off stragglers from the retreating German +Army Corps. Infantry were hidden from view in the +depths of the valley. Batteries on our left were sending +a plunging fire of shot and shell on to the ridge and +dips beyond the river, and the road leading from +the bridge. With a field-glass, moving dots, and +what looked like waggons, could be made out on the +road and the field alongside. It was on these moving +dots that our guns played, and cloud-bursts of earth +and dust showed that our gunners had the range +beautifully.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus06" style="max-width: 43.75em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus06.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption> + <p><span class="smcap">Ambulances at the Marne.</span></p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>General French passed us twice in his Limousine car. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_55">[55]</span>General Smith-Dorrien passed twice—General Sir +Charles Ferguson passed—all in motor-cars travelling +like mad. Gallopers with messages spurred up and +down the road. Guns thundered into position, unlimbered +and were quickly in action. Infantry marching +rapidly passed down the road into the valley where +a tornado of rifle-fire was going on. One could make +out the distinct note from our own rifles and the muffled +one from the more distant German Mausers. Two +German shells burst short of the battery on our left and +uncomfortably close to us. We were in an odd position +for an ambulance—in front of our own battery, which +was pelting shot into the Germans and which a German +battery was trying to locate. When the enemy shells +fell short they fell near us. Our position, however, was +a dress circle box seat as a view-point, so we stopped +where we were. It was not every day that one could +look on at a real live battle. Before dusk came on, an +aeroplane appeared over the ridge flying towards us, and +was shot at by enemy aircraft guns. The shells burst +all round it, but it sailed triumphantly through them +all, and to our intense relief landed safely in our lines +with some valuable information.</p> + +<p>I was much interested to see our Generals on this day +dashing about in powerful automobiles. A General is +always interesting at the front, be he a Brigadier-General, +a General of Division, or an Army Corps General. +One gets a fleeting glimpse of a “Brass Hat” in a motor-car +and asks, “Who is that?” Some one with a keen +eye or a nimble fancy will enlighten. “That’s Haig, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_56">[56]</span>1st Corps,” or “Smith-Dorrien, 2nd Corps,” or +“Ferguson, 5th Division.” “Wonder what’s up?” is +the next usual query, for a General moving around +means that “something’s up.”</p> + +<p>Smith-Dorrien is a General well worth seeing. It +was “S.-D.” who handled the 2nd Army Corps +from Mons during those terrible hard-fought days +of the retreat, and he was now commanding the 3rd +and 5th Divisions on this day on the Marne, when +they forced the passage and deployed on the other +side.</p> + +<p>When the action was at its hottest and every gun +was busy, a car raced up from the valley in a swirling +cloud of dust. The brakes were jammed hard down +opposite us, the side door opened, and out stepped a +well-knit, muscular, lithe figure, looking physically fit, +smart, and cool in a well-made khaki uniform and red-banded +cap. The face was a burnt-brick red, the +moustache white, the eyes alert, wide open, and “knowing.” +A savage, obstinate, determined chin dominated +the face. It was the chin of a strong, stubborn nature, +the chin of a prize fighter. This was Smith-Dorrien, +the commander of the 2nd Army Corps, and at this +moment the 2nd Corps were at grips with the enemy. +With a few rapid strides he had reached the battery +on our left, asked some question of the battery commander, +and at once clapped field-glasses to his eyes and +gazed long and intently at a spot on the other side of +the valley pointed out to him by the battery commander. +Our party of officers, filled with curiosity, also got out +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_57">[57]</span>field-glasses and focused in the same direction. Our +shells could be seen bursting on a far ridge, and after a +long stare we managed to make out what we thought +were some guns, but we were not sure. A few +more words to the battery commander, a careless +salute, and Smith-Dorrien was back in his car, +which was rapidly turned and disappeared “eyes +out” down the dusty road up which it had but just +come.</p> + +<p>As the car disappeared a tremendous rifle-fire broke +out all along the valley beyond the stream. It made +one’s pulses beat with excitement. The 2nd Army +Corps was fighting hard in the valley at our feet, +and Smith-Dorrien was down in the valley with his +men.</p> + +<p>When the devil’s din was at its loudest, another +powerful Limousine coming from the rear pulled up +opposite us. “Go on, go on,” shouted a voice from the +inside, and the car again sped on. Inside was Field-Marshal +Sir John French poring over a map held out +with both hands over his knees. His car also disappeared +into the valley, and we again surmised that +there must be some big thing going on down below to +draw thither Field-Marshals, Corps Commanders, and +Divisional Generals.</p> + +<p>An hour elapsed. All of the batteries except one +had ceased fire, the cracking of our rifles was still heavy +but more distant, and now two cars were seen coming +slowly towards us from out the valley. In the front +car were French and Smith-Dorrien. We augured that +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_58">[58]</span>all was well, for the car was proceeding slowly, and the +Field-Marshal was placidly smoking a cigar. Our +augury was correct. We had forced the passage of the +Marne, and were grimly in pursuit of the retreating +foe.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_59">[59]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VII">CHAPTER VII.<br> +<span class="smaller">THE NIGHT OF THE MARNE.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>When the long day closed and darkness shrouded us +all, the firing ceased completely, and the world felt +strangely silent. The batteries limbered up and took +the road down towards the river, and our ambulances +followed the same way. The only sound heard was +the crunching of the waggon wheels on the road. All +else was soundless and still, a great quiet reigned over +the valley which a short time before had been so tormented +by the earthquake thunderings of battle.</p> + +<p>We went down deeper and deeper into the valley, +and in pitch darkness entered the quaint old village of +Saccy on the Marne. Saccy is an old, world-forgotten +village of narrow cobbled streets and ancient stone +houses. Situated on the south side of the bridge which +spans the Marne, the old village has ambled sleepily +through the centuries disturbing no one by its existence, +and undisturbed itself by the big events of history. +During the preceding forty-eight hours the old place +was suddenly engulfed in a cyclone of movement, for a +German Army Corps had retreated rapidly through its +streets and over its bridge,—too rapidly to stay and sack +the houses in the manner so loved by the German +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_60">[60]</span>soldiers. Their big guns had hurtled their iron messengers +of death over the town from one side of the valley +to the other, and sweating, panting British infantry, +the finest warriors in the world, had pressed steadily +along the same streets and over the bridge so lately +trod by the enemy. Saccy had seen two armies pass +through her, and had emerged safe and unhurt. When +our ambulances entered Saccy the narrow streets were +packed and congested with supply waggons, ammunition +carts, guns, and marching infantry. The dull lights from +shuttered windows or an open door and the occasional +powerful glare from a big motor headlight lit up a scene +of cursing drivers, struggling and straining horses, heavy +lumbering waggons, and tired, thirsty, dusty marching +men.</p> + +<p>The headquarters of the 5th Division was established +in a café on the main street, and when we passed +through the staff were at dinner in the large front room +opening on to the street. We saw plates of steaming +potatoes, a roast leg of mutton, bottles of pickles, and +many bottles of red wine. The headquarters’ cook +was evidently a man of resource and knew his job.</p> + +<p>After passing through the village we turned abruptly +to the right and then we were at the bridge, a splendidly +built stone affair with a parapet and side walks. The +bridge was fine and wide, but our crossing was a slow +process, owing to the mass of waggons, buses, and +equipment ahead. Some artillery and infantry had +already bivouacked on the other side of the bridge, and +their camp fires with dicksies of boiling stews and of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_61">[61]</span>coffee looked very cheerful. Some of the men were +sitting or standing round the fires, smoking their ever-popular +Woodbine cigarettes; others were engaged +lopping off branches from the forest trees for the fire; +many had taken off their puttees, boots, and socks, and +were cooling their feet. They all looked very happy, +and cheerfully exchanged compliments and remarks +with the drivers of the waggons, who still had some +miles to go before they could rest. Our ambulances +were, however, about a quarter of a mile farther on, +swung up a narrow cutting into a field, and here we +found the headquarters of the 15th Field Ambulance, +with seven ambulance waggons, supply carts, water +carts, horses, tent and hospital equipment. When we +joined up the unit was again complete. We had crossed +the Marne behind the 15th Infantry Brigade, but our +work was not yet done.</p> + +<p>It was now eleven o’clock of a pitch black night with +threatening rain. Our ambulances were packed in a +semi-circle in the field near an old farmhouse. A huge +log fire was blazing about 200 yards away, and round this +were sitting some of the medical officers of the ambulance +and two chaplains. I made my bow to my new +comrades and introduced myself as the latest medical +recruit to the unit, and was given a box to sit on, and a +cup of hot tea, bread and marmalade. All of these +officers had been through Mons and Le Cateau, and were +now veterans. One who had just come in from the +front with some stretchers, said that our cavalry had +done splendidly during the day, and had made a very +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_62">[62]</span>fine charge, cutting off some companies of retreating +infantry. Our Lancers had ridden through a squadron +of Uhlans, turned round, and galloped through them +again, spearing and slaying on their two bloody +passages.</p> + +<p>We were in for a busy night, for all the stretcher +parties from the various ambulances were out in the +field collecting the wounded, whose arrival was expected +now at any moment. An operating tent had been +pitched in the field near by, and was brilliantly lit up +with a huge acetylene lamp. The operating table +was fixed in the centre of the tent and along each side +were the instruments, basins, and dressings lying on the +lids of the panniers, which made excellent side-tables. +Very soon the ambulances lumbered up with the men +picked up from the fields close at hand. The stretchers, +each holding a wounded man, were taken out of the +waggons and laid on a heap of straw near the door +of the operating tent. Sixteen men were taken out and +laid side by side. New stretchers were put in the +waggons, which again set out to bring in more wounded. +One surgeon stood on one side of the operating table, +another stood opposite him, and a third surgeon was +ready to assist or give an anæsthetic if necessary.</p> + +<p>Quietly and quickly one wounded man after +another was lifted on to the table, his wounds were +speedily dressed, and he was again carried out and laid +on the straw with a blanket below and another above +him. Those with painful wounds were given hypodermics +of morphia. All who were fit to take nourishment +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_63">[63]</span>had hot soup, tea, bread and jam. Stimulants were +given freely to those requiring it. The wounds were +mostly from shrapnel, and only one case required an +anæsthetic. He had a bad compound fracture of the +thigh and was in terrible pain. We made some good +splints and fixed up the limb comfortably and in good +position. One poor devil had a bad abdominal wound +for which we could do nothing. He was given a good +dose of morphia and slept quietly and easily till five a.m., +when he ceased to breathe. At one o’clock in the +morning wounded were still coming in, and the surgeon +on duty was relieved by myself. So with coat off, bare +arms and covered with an operating apron, I did my +spell of surgical duty during that night on the banks of +the Marne. Our stretcher parties at last were finished, +and had all come in with the report that all the wounded +had been brought in. They reported that there were +large numbers of British and German dead on the +roadsides and in the fields. At six o’clock our large list +of wounded were sent off to railhead at Coulommiers +on returning-empty supply waggons and under the +charge of a medical officer. The operating tent was +struck and all the panniers and equipment were packed. +The Field Ambulance had done its “job.” It had +followed its brigade into action, had collected all the +wounded of that brigade, had dressed their wounds +and made them comfortable during the night, and +had then loaded all the wounded on waggons and sent +them to railhead to join a hospital train. Having +done this the ambulance was again ready to follow its +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_64">[64]</span>brigade and do the same again. The long night was +over and a new day was upon us.</p> + +<p>This was the only occasion on the march that our +Field Ambulance had to pitch an operating tent in a +field. Generally a house or château was made use of as a +dressing station. The tent made an excellent first-aid +dressing station, but of course was unsuited for any +major surgical operation, and we tried to avoid as +far as possible doing much in the way of surgery. +We examined every wound carefully to see that no +bleeding was taking place, and all the fractures were +very carefully splintered with firm wooden splints. +The men suffered very little pain comparatively, and +were remarkably cheerful when they had been dressed +and placed on the straw. They seemed anxious to +talk and review the events of the day, and they told +us great tales of the Germans running away. One man +said that he, with his company, was in a belt of trees +lying down and watching an open space in their front. +Some Uhlans, not knowing the British were so close, +cantered up and halted; our men took careful aim and +emptied twenty saddles with the first fusillade, and +then fired on the panic-stricken, terrified horses who +were careering off with the remaining Germans; when +the horses fell the riders surrendered at once. The man +who told me the story was slightly wounded later in the +day, and had a Uhlan helmet as a souvenir of the affray +near the forest.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_65">[65]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_VIII">CHAPTER VIII.<br> +<span class="smaller">FROM THE MARNE TO THE AISNE.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>At 7 a.m. our Field Ambulance was ready to march. +Breakfast was over, and we stood by awaiting orders. +While waiting, some of us strolled back towards the +bridge which we had crossed the previous night. It was +now empty of men and vehicles. The ashes of the +bivouac fires and the lopped branches of trees were all +the tokens left of the passage of a German and a British +Army Corps. The Marne is a deep stream with a slow +current, and is a popular boating river. Two or three +boating-club sheds lay pleasantly situated on the banks +of the stream, bowered in foliage and trees. Up and +down the river the scene was exceedingly beautiful. It +was curious, when standing on the bridge, to think that +in the previous forty-eight hours the tide of war had +rolled over this lovely valley; that artillery had plastered +the landscape with shrapnel and high explosives, and +that riflemen had lined the banks where to stand exposed +for one minute meant instant death; that many hundreds +of men had died and many hundreds had been wounded +and crippled for life. The ambulance lorries climbing +out of the valley to the rear with the loads of wounded +men were the aftermath of the glitter and panoply +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_66">[66]</span>of war, and of the deadly struggle in the now peaceful +valley.</p> + +<p>At eight o’clock we received our orders to follow +on. So “Field Ambulance, fall in!” and away we went +on the great walk to the Aisne. At this time I did not +have a horse. Every ambulance medical officer is +provided with a horse; but horses were scarce just +then, and with three other doctors I “foot-slogged” the +way. It was a beautiful morning. The night’s rain +had settled the dust on the roads, the sun was shining +pleasantly, but drifting rain-clouds threatened a change. +Major B—— and myself marched at the head of the +column on foot. Behind marched the men of A Company—the +stretcher-bearers and orderlies, followed by the +six ambulance waggons of A Company. Then the men +and the waggons of B Company, followed by the men and +waggons of C Company. Water carts, kit waggons, +supply and equipment carts, brought up the rear. Our +<i>personnel</i> was about 250 men, and these with the +waggons, carts, and horses made a fairly long column. +Our road led in a snake-like way through the gradually +rising uplands beyond the Marne on to the plain beyond. +The countryside was typically French: clumps of forest +were on our right, villages were dotted about everywhere, +and there were many isolated farmhouses +surrounded by belts of trees and orchards. The countryside +was agricultural. The wheat and oats had been +cut and newly-made stacks were standing in the stubble +fields, and some of the fields still held the “stooks” of +grain. About nine o’clock we came on the grim evidences +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_67">[67]</span>of war. Our road led right through a country over +which the Germans were retreating and we were pursuing. +Two large motor-cars, broken down, were lying in a ditch +beside the road. These were German staff cars. One +had a badly burst tyre and that seemed to be all that +was the matter with it. Farther on was a smashed +French ambulance waggon, with a broken axle, and full +of equipment and stores, abandoned by the Germans. +This car had evidently been captured from the French +during the German advance. Four German soldiers +of the Mecklenburg Corps were lying together in a ditch. +All had been killed by shrapnel wounds in chest and +head. It seemed as if the four men had sat down +exhausted in the ditch by the roadside and that one of +our shrapnel shells had burst right over them, killing +them all outright. We removed their identification +discs in order that they could be sent to Germany later +on. Close by was another dead German lying face +downwards on the earth and with both hands extended +above his head. Shrapnel had caught him full in the +back of the neck. In a small clump of trees to the left +of the road were two more dead Germans. One was +lying on his back with his left hand over a wound in the +chest. The other soldier had evidently been trying to +assist him, for he had been kneeling on the right side +of the wounded man when he too received a mortal hurt +and fell dead across his dying comrade. His head was +lying in a deep puddle of coagulated blood. The rifle +of one lay some distance off, evidently violently thrown +away by the first man when he received his chest +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_68">[68]</span>wound. The rifle of the other soldier had been laid +carefully against a tree within reach. The poor fellow +did not reach out for it again. Two young Germans +were found lying close together in a clump of vegetation. +They had been sorely wounded and had crawled off the +roadside into the friendly shelter of the trees. Left +behind by their countrymen, grievously wounded +and in dire distress, they had curled up together in the +damp grass and died during the night. One had died +from hæmorrhage and one from a brain injury. +Another group of four soldiers had crawled into a ditch +and were lying close together in their last long sleep—killed +by one of our heavy shells.</p> + +<p>A small footpath at one place ran from the side of +the road towards the gate of an orchard of apple trees. +Two German soldiers were lying here dead, and with +their rifles alongside them. One had just reached +the gate and the other was close on his heels when a +burst of British shrapnel stopped their further progress. +Stragglers from the retreating army, they were making +for the orchard to hide when death came suddenly +upon them. So the grim picture went on. The German +dead dotted the roadside, the clumps of trees, and the +fields on either side. Thirty Germans were found killed +on a small ridge to our right. Another one was found +alive, but dying. His wounds were carefully dressed +and we carried him into a neighbouring cottage to die. +Our artillery at the Marne did deadly execution and +our shrapnel must have made of that roadside and the +fields alongside a perfect hell.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_69">[69]</span></p> + +<p>Our gunners had got the range of the road and +plastered it and the adjoining land with a murdering +hail of lead and iron. It was curious to note how +badly wounded men seemed to try to escape from the +open and crawl into the shelter of a ditch or a clump of +trees.</p> + +<p>A man wounded in the field would do as a +wounded stag or rabbit would,—try for cover. +Some men died after crawling away a few yards. +Some got some distance away into the ditches and +died there, a bloody trail marking their last painful +journey.</p> + +<p>The expressions on the faces of the men were on the +whole peaceful. Some had a look of wild surprise in +their upward, staring eyes. Some looked as if a great +fear and terror had possessed them at the last awful +moment. The expression on the face of one finely +built German officer, with a clean-cut intellectual face +and firm jaw, was that of a sublime contempt. His +eyes and nose and the curl on his lips betokened a +contemptuous regard that was curious to see in a +dead man.</p> + +<p>One burly young man killed by a shell wound in the +abdomen had lived some time after having received +his mortal hurt, for he had plucked some straw from +the wheat stack near which he lay and made a pillow +of it. On this he had rested his head. His military +cloak lay over him, pulled tightly round his neck. +There he lay with one hand under his head and resting +on his pillow of crumpled straw, and the other hand +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_70">[70]</span>pressed on his wounded abdomen as if to give it some +support. He looked like a man sleeping the peaceful +sleep of utter fatigue, and when painlessly asleep his +heart had ceased to beat. In his haversack there was +a hard sausage and a piece of hard white bread. His +water-bottle was empty and the cork had not been replaced, +nor had the bottle been hooked on to his belt. +Wounded, bleeding, thirsty, and exhausted, he had +slowly crept off that awful field into the friendly shelter +of the haystack.</p> + +<p>The dead Germans were young sturdy men, strong-jawed +and wiry. This was no canaille whom we were +fighting, but a trained, determined soldiery who would +fight hard and die gamely.</p> + +<p>Our route for the remainder of this day lay through +such scenes of blood and devastation. We passed +abandoned ammunition trains, field guns, saddlery, +field kitchens, and war equipment of all sorts. There +could be no doubt about the precipitate retreat of the +Germans, nor of the tenacious and pressing character +of the pursuit. Large numbers of dead horses littered +the roadsides and fields. Some had been wounded +or killed by our fire. Some lay with outstretched +necks and open mouths, dead from exhaustion, and +some had evidently been shot as temporarily useless +by the Germans themselves who did not wish them +to remain alive for the enemy. One sorely wounded +horse as we passed tried painfully to get up. We +gave him the merciful dispatch with a revolver +shot.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_71">[71]</span></p> + +<p>Rain fell heavily during the afternoon for about +an hour and then the sky cleared again. Continuous +heavy fighting was going on all day on our front and +flanks, and muffled waves of artillery bursts could be +heard from the far distance. The whole French and +British Army was advancing in one wide semi-circle, +endeavouring to “roll up” two German Army +Corps.</p> + +<p>After a hard, gruelling march of twenty-two miles +we reached Chiezy. It was then pitch dark and we +were all exhausted, for we had been on our feet for over +twenty hours, part of the time marching, and part +of the time standing by waiting to go forward. When a +column is marching along a road, pursuing an enemy +who is every now and again making a temporary stand +to get a brigade or a battalion out of a tight corner, +the going is necessarily slow and there are many waits—sometimes +for ten minutes, sometimes for an hour or +more. The waits on the roadside are really more tiring +than the steady marching. When one is “soft” and +not accustomed to long walking, a day’s march like this +proves a torture. If such a “tenderfoot” sat down +by the wayside for a few minutes, it was almost impossible +to get the cramped body into the erect attitude +again. Towards the end of the long, long day, and in +the darkness of the night, with feet swollen and sore, +brain and body numbed with fatigue, one did not +march, but only stumbled and lurched along the never-ending +road like a drunken man. A tired brain induces +muscular fatigue, and physical exhaustion causes mental +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_72">[72]</span>torpor. When our ambulances pulled into the stubble +field at Chiezy, we had lost all interest in the war, and +in everything else on this earth except a cup of tea +and a long sleep.</p> + +<p>However, certain duties had to be attended to +before one turned in. The horses were looked after, +the ambulances parked, and rations served out to the +men. We had about twenty patients, all of them +British soldiers with sore feet—men who had fallen +out of the regiments on the march and had waited +by the roadside for the ambulance waggons. We +always ordered these poor devils to jump into the +waggons and take off their boots and socks. This gave +instant relief. The sores on the heels and across the +instep were painted with iodine. In a few days +the men were generally well and fit to rejoin their +regiments.</p> + +<p>On bivouacking this night we got all these “foot +birds” to wash their feet. This was a novel experience +to men who had marched from Mons without a +wash or change of socks. The officers’ cooks soon +had coffee and stew ready, and our servants had +spread straw on the ground, on which our valises +were unrolled. The night was beautiful; about +two miles away the guns were booming and the +bright flashes of the bursting shells reminded us +that war was close beside us. Without even taking +off our boots we lay down on our valises and +were asleep as soon as our bodies assumed the +horizontal.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_73">[73]</span></p> + +<p>At four o’clock next morning we were roused by the +penetrating voice of the O.C., Major X——. “Turn +out, turn out!” There was no escaping that voice or +the caustic remarks that would be sure to come if one +did not “turn out.” We all got buckets of water, and +stripping in the open had a good morning bath in +the buckets. It was cold, but bracing. Breakfast of +coffee, bread, jam, and fried bacon. Day broke shortly +afterwards and we found that we had camped on the +scene of a struggle of the previous afternoon. Close by +were a number of dead horses with their saddlery still +on. Some newly-made graves were distinguished about +500 yards from our sleeping quarters. A German +cavalry patrol had been bivouacked near a wood hard +by our camping-place, and had evidently been very +badly handled, judging by the signs of confusion, the +litter left behind, the dead horses, the recent graves. +In a small hollow I picked up a very fine German +saddle and bit, and a good waterproof sheet. A bundle +of letters was lying near in a small leather satchel, and +on the cover of the satchel was stitched the photograph +of a very pretty woman’s face. Our O.C. had been +educated in Germany, and being a good German +scholar read the letters. They were of no military +importance, and had been sent by the lady of the +photograph to the owner of the satchel—evidently +an officer. There were congratulations about his +“promotion,” and an earnest, loving message for his +safe return.</p> + +<p>Poor devil! We surmise that he must have been a +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_74">[74]</span>young cavalry officer in command of the patrol. His +“promotion” was short-lived, for he lay under one of +the new mounds of clay, and the poor lady with the +charming face would have some very sad hours +when she learned from the German casualty lists that +“Ober Lieutenant X—— was missing.” One of our +men picked up here a very fine pair of new German +boots. As his own were a little the worse for wear +he put on the German ones, and said that they were +much more comfortable than the British military boot. +I believe that his observation was quite correct. +Amongst other souvenirs picked up at this interesting +corner were a pair of field-glasses, a revolver, a good +set of razors and mirrors, an ivory-backed hair-brush—all +made in Germany.</p> + +<p>Our greatest find was yet to come. As our ambulance +was getting under way one of our R.A.M.C. +corporals hove in sight marching proudly at the head +of eleven fully-armed German prisoners. The corporal’s +tale was full of interest. He was searching in the wood +for more “souvenirs” when he came suddenly upon +the eleven soldiers lying together in a small clearing. +The corporal thought that his last hour had come. +All the tales of German atrocities he had heard unfolded +rapidly in his mind, and when the German non-commissioned +officer got up and approached him, speaking +German, which our corporal did not understand, he +thought that his death-sentence was being pronounced. +By signs, to the utter amazement of the corporal, he +grasped the fact that the Germans wished to surrender. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_75">[75]</span>He beckoned the enemy to follow him, and the eleven +hungry, tired, and very dirty-looking Mecklenburghers +came docilely into camp. Our O.C. approached them, +took their rifles, and ordered them coffee, bully beef, and +biscuits. The prisoners set to without delay, and ate +as only hungry Germans can eat. Three of them had +badly blistered feet, and when we marched off these +were accommodated in the ambulance waggons. The +remainder marched behind the waggons of A +Company, under charge of the corporal who “captured” +them. Later in the day we handed them +over to the Norfolk Regiment, as it was clearly +against the etiquette of war for a Field Ambulance +to have prisoners of war. We hadn’t a gun amongst +us.</p> + +<p>The capture of eleven prisoners of war by our Field +Ambulance was the occasion for much joy to our men, +and the corporal was a very proud man. I don’t know +what the Germans thought when they discovered that +they had surrendered to an unarmed party. The 15th +Field Ambulance is so far the only ambulance which +has taken prisoners of war, and I hope that the +R.A.M.C. messes at Aldershot and Netley will duly +treasure the fact in the archives.</p> + +<p>Rain fell heavily when we left Chiezy, and we were +soon soaked to the skin. The roads were quagmires +of greasy and sticky mud, heavy lowering clouds made +everything sombre and grey, and the countryside +looked mournful and cheerless. Mile after mile we +trudged in the pitiless rain. I shall always remember +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_76">[76]</span>the march from the Marne to the Aisne, for its wet and +mud. Shortly after leaving Chiezy we came upon +some gruesome evidences of German savagery. Near +a stable built on to a farmhouse we saw a Frenchman +lying dead across a manure heap. The top of his head +had been blown off, and his brains were plastered over +his face. The man, evidently the proprietor, had +been shot the previous day by a German officer. There +was an old woman at the farm, and she told us this, and +that she had seen him fall. What was the reason for +the brutal murder she did not know. She said that +the officer and the farmer seemed to be in conversation +near the stable, and the farmer appeared to be protesting +at something. Suddenly the officer placed the +muzzle of his revolver close to the farmer’s forehead +and shot him. The wound had been inflicted at close +range, and we were filled with disgust at such a callous +murder. About a mile farther on, we met another +poor devil who had been done to death. A middle-aged +man with a bald head, bare-footed, and dressed +in an old pair of blue pants and a cotton shirt, was +lying near a plough close to the road. His head had +been battered in, probably with the butt-end of a rifle, +and he had been dead for about twenty-four hours. +Why the poor wretched man had been killed we did +not know. The third instance of this fiendish villainy +I saw later on in the day at Billy. This time it was +a young man, a mere youth, and he lay face downwards +at the door of a cowhouse, dead from a bullet wound +in the chest. I examined the wound with some care, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_77">[77]</span>and would be quite prepared to swear in any court of +law that the man who shot him had pressed the revolver +against the dead man’s chest when he pulled the trigger. +This is the German way. These examples of nauseous +and disgusting frightfulness amazed me. I had never +before come up against such tragedies, and I felt an +unholy pleasure that our big guns farther along the +road were pouring shrapnel and shell amongst the living +devils who did such things.</p> + +<p>At Billy our Brigadier-General, Count Gleichen, +ordered us to bivouac for the night. Major B—— and +I billeted in a small cottage abutting on a very smelly +cowshed. At the cottage fire we dried our soaking +uniforms, and dug dry underclothing out of our valises, +which we spread on the kitchen floor and lay upon. +Madame of the cottage was full of the latest war news. +She was <i>très intelligente</i> and very satisfied with the +progress of the war. She told us that our advanced +guard had entered the village only six hours behind +the retreating Germans; that the Germans were in a +great hurry and were too tired almost to march; that +their officers were angry and cursed and struck the +men who lagged behind. She also assured us that +some Uhlans had ridden through, and that they +were very drunk and had bottles of champagne +suspended in festoons round their necks. While making +some tea, and boiling eggs, she cheered us up +with the assurance that the war would soon be over, +for Monsieur le Curé had told her so himself, bless his +heart.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_78">[78]</span></p> + +<p>The Curé opened his church and allowed our men +to carry in straw and sleep there for the night. This +was a godsend to our men during that night of pouring +rain, and the Curé got many a rough blessing for his +kind act. The villagers at Billy were much heartened +at seeing the British so close on the German heels, +and one old fellow—he must have been a centenarian—got +very drunk on the strength of it all, and assured +us that he was a veteran of the <i>soixante-dix</i> and had +killed many Germans at that time. He was too drunk +to remember the exact number.</p> + +<p>During the night I was awakened by a tremendous +artillery fire. The batteries beyond the village had +got the range of something and were giving them +hot potatoes. Madame of the cottage was very +alarmed, and thought that the Germans were +coming back. Her confidence in the British was +not as firm as she had led us to believe the previous +evening.</p> + +<p>We were all out and ready to march at five o’clock +next morning, but did not move off till seven o’clock. +Rain still continued to pour down and we were all +miserably muddy and damp. Whenever a big artillery +duel took place heavy rain was sure to follow. This +was so on the Marne and on the Aisne, and some one +with a meteorological bent had made the same observations +during the Peninsular War. All day long we +marched or waited on the muddy, sopping <i>pavé</i> with +waterproof sheets tucked round our necks and +shoulders, off which the water streamed. The advance +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_79">[79]</span>now was very slow, and we were told that our men +ahead were meeting with a more organised and steady +resistance. We no longer met evidences of a precipitate +retreat. There were no more German dead or +abandoned material by the roadsides.</p> + +<p>At 9 p.m. in the dark we entered the doleful village +of Chacrise. For sixteen hours we had been on our +feet and had only covered about eight or nine miles. +The soft roads, ground down by our heavy waggons +and guns, were in a bad state, and we walked through +ankle-deep mud and slush. When we entered Chacrise +we were told that all the billets had been taken up. +The church, the <i>Mairie</i>, the shops, and houses were all +occupied by our soldiers. It looked as if we should +have to sit all night on the cobble-stones of the street, +and what with the darkness, the incessant pouring rain, +and the fatigue, we were all very sorry that we had come +to France to fight Germans. But every cloud has its +silver lining. We found an unoccupied house down +a dark alley. The windows were firmly shuttered and +the door securely locked. The occupants had locked +up their house and bolted when the Germans were +known to be about. By a little skilful burglary with a +jemmy we opened a window. One of us got in and +opened the front door from the inside: very soon our +cook had a fire lighted and a hot supper ready. We +got all our men and horses under good cover, and our +night at Chacrise, which promised so badly, turned out +very happily. We were all given an issue of rum this +night. Rum is an oily, nauseous drink, but given +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_80">[80]</span>certain surroundings and a certain physical state it +has a most excellent flavour. On the night at +Chacrise everything conspired to make the rum very +palatable.</p> + +<p>At 4 a.m. next day our never-sleepy O.C. disturbed +our dreams with his “Turn out, turn out!” and out +we turned. We had no choice when he was stalking +round. Again we stepped out on muddy roads, and +under a heavy downpour of soaking rain, and marching +and stopping, reached the village of Serches on the +Aisne at eleven o’clock in the morning. The rain +then ceased and a glorious, welcome sun appeared. +The whole countryside was bathed in a delightful +warmth, and we felt glad to be alive.</p> + +<p>We were ordered to bivouac our ambulances in a +field behind the village, and were told that the German +rearguard was holding up our advance most determinedly +along the Aisne banks, and that the enemy +artillery was in great strength.</p> + +<p>Our march from the Marne to the Aisne was accomplished, +and we now entered upon a new and different +phase of the great war game. Our Brigade was in +action on the Aisne banks, and we had to take up a +position behind it and be prepared to receive its +wounded and sick.</p> + +<p>The Field Ambulance with a marching army takes its +number from the Brigade which it serves. The 15th +Field Ambulance followed the 15th Brigade; the +13th Field Ambulance, the 13th Brigade, and so on. +Four regiments or battalions form a Brigade, and all +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_81">[81]</span>the other units attached to the Brigade, such as +cavalry or ammunition columns, are also medically +attended by the Field Ambulance attached to their +Brigade.</p> + +<p>Our Brigade consisted of the Norfolks, Cheshires, +Bedfords, and Dorsets, and the Brigadier was +Major-General Count Gleichen, now a General of +Division.</p> + +<p>It was from these regiments that we received +most of our casualties on the Marne, on the Aisne, +and later at La Bassée, and, as the following few +notes will show, we were serving with regiments who +had proved themselves doughty warriors in the +past.</p> + +<p>The Norfolk Regiment was created in 1685 in the +time of the Stuarts to help suppress the rebellion of +Monmouth. Their badge is the figure of Britannia, +well won, in 1707, for their gallant bearing at Almanza. +This great regiment has done sterling service in many +lands, and has as battle honours, Roleia, Corunna, +Peninsula, Sevastopol, Afghanistan, and South Africa. +Their nicknames are three, “The Holy Boys,” +“The Fighting Ninth” (they were formerly called +the 9th Regiment of Foot), and the “Norfolk +Howards.”</p> + +<p>The Bedfordshire Regiment, with its badge of the +united red and white rose, and its battle honours with +the proud names, Blenheim, Ramillies, Chitral, was a +magnificent unit in France when we joined it. The +regiment had been raised in the last years of James II. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_82">[82]</span>in 1688, and from 1809 to 1881 was known as the +16th Regiment of Foot. The nicknames of the regiment +are “The Peacemakers,” “The Featherbeds,” +“The Bloodless Lambs.” This regiment lost heavily +at Missy on the Aisne, and at Ypres later on in the war +it had over 650 casualties.</p> + +<p>The Cheshires, with a united red and white rose +for a badge like the Bedfords, were raised in 1689, and +were in old days the 22nd Regiment of Foot. Their +war record includes Martinique, Hyderabad, Scinde, +and South Africa, and their nicknames are “The Two +Twos,” “The Red Knights,” and “The Lightning +Conductors”—when marching in Ireland about fifteen +years ago the regiment was struck by lightning. The +Cheshires have suffered terribly during this war, and +at Missy we had a number of their casualties to treat, +and many were buried near the old village on the +Aisne.</p> + +<p>The Dorsetshire Regiment has a proud motto, +“Primus in Indis,” commemorating its great services +in India, and the fact that it stands first in order of +precedence amongst British regiments that have seen +war there. The drum-major of this regiment still +carries the staff of the Nawab’s herald on parade. +It was captured at Plassey, where the regiment was in +action under Clive.</p> + +<p>Sir Horace Smith-Dorrien, Commander of the 5th +Division, “particularly mentioned the fine fighting of +the Dorsets. They suffered no less than 400 casualties. +Their Commanding Officer, Major Roper, was killed, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_83">[83]</span>but all day they maintained their hold on Pont Fixe.” +Their battle story is a great one, and includes Plassey, +Albuera, Vittoria, Sevastopol, and Relief of Ladysmith. +The 1st Battalion was raised in 1702. The “Green +Linnets” is their nickname.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_84">[84]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_IX">CHAPTER IX.<br> +<span class="smaller">THE AISNE AND THE TRAGEDY OF THE SUNKEN ROAD.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>On arriving at Serches on the Aisne our ambulance +pulled off into a sloping grassy field, and the tired +horses were taken out, fed, and rubbed down. Fires +were lit and we all prepared to enjoy ourselves by +resting in the glorious sun’s rays, washing, shaving, +and smoking a pipe in comfort. For the past few +days we could not smoke in the open owing to the +rain.</p> + +<p>A tremendous artillery engagement was going on at +the front. Our batteries were posted behind a long +ridge not far from where we were, and every gun was in +action, making the air resound with the bursting charges. +It was not by any means a one-sided affair, as we were +soon to know. The enemy were firing from a ridge on +the other side of the river, and they had got our positions +very accurately. At one o’clock a Taube flew over our +position and dropped three bombs. Two fell near us +with a terrible clatter, one on the road to our left down +which we had come, and one about 400 yards behind us +in a belt of trees. The third one actually fell in our +field, and plunged itself angrily into the soft turf. Our +position was obviously not a safe one for a Field Ambulance, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_85">[85]</span>and we got orders to retire two miles farther back. +We did not move off, however, till 5 p.m.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus07" style="max-width: 43.75em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus07.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption> + <p><span class="smcap">Halt at Serches.</span></p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>Major B—— and I walked through the village of +Serches and turned up the road leading to the right +behind a steep ridge which flattened out into a plain of +about one to two miles’ width. This plateau fell abruptly +on its northern side right on to the Aisne River. When +climbing up this road, which led to the summit of the +ridge, we passed numerous stretcher-bearers bringing in +wounded to the 13th Field Ambulance, which was also +quartered in the village. The men with slight hand +or head wounds were walking, and the serious cases +were on stretchers. The Germans had got the range +of the ridge summit towards which our road led, +and were freely plastering it with shrapnel and Black +Marias.</p> + +<p>On approaching the top of the rise we saw two of our +batteries on our right, and three on our left well forward +in the plateau, and busily engaged. Our guns at this +date were not concealed from inquisitive Taubes by +trees and foliage—that lesson had not yet been learned +by the conservative Briton. German shells were +bursting on the ridge in good line for our guns, but about +a quarter of a mile short. Our road now took a direct +turn for the far side of the plateau, and here it went +through a deep cutting down to a bridge which spanned +the river. On the left-hand side of the road at the +cutting there was a large gravel pit or cave where road-metal +was obtained. The road across the plateau was +open and exposed, but from the cutting to the banks of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_86">[86]</span>the river it was lined with pine trees. Major B—— and +myself were standing on the road at the top of the ridge +trying to make out the German positions with our field-glasses. +A gunner officer, seeing the red-cross brassards +on our arms, hurried up and said, “You are urgently +wanted in the sunken road about a mile and a half down. +Two doctors have just been killed and there are a lot of +badly wounded on the road.” We had no dressings of +any sort with us. We had come thus far out of curiosity, +not expecting that it was such a “hot corner.” We, +however, went forward at the double along this exposed +road, passing upturned waggons, dead and dying horses, +khaki caps and overcoats, overturned and smashed +water carts. Out of breath, we reached the cave and +found how urgently necessary we were. The scene +defied description. The cave was a shambles of +mangled forms. Nineteen wounded men were lying in +the loose sandy gravel, having just been brought in by +their surviving uninjured comrades. One was on the +point of death from a shrapnel wound of the brain—the +bullet had passed through the orbit. There were +fractured limbs, shrapnel wounds of the chest, abdomen, +and head, shell wounds and concussions. We did +all we possibly could with first-aid dressings. We got +the uninjured men to take off their puttees, and these we +used as bandages; rifles were employed as splints for the +lower limbs, and bayonets for the upper limbs. One +poor officer, Captain and Quartermaster M——, an old +soldier with two rows of ribbons on his coat, had a badly +shattered thigh and knee. He was suffering tortures, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_87">[87]</span>and his anguished face showed the strong efforts he made +to control himself. Lieut. W——, R.A.M.C., a civil +surgeon, had a smashed ankle-joint. We sent at once for +ambulances and stretcher parties. These soon arrived, +and the terribly wounded men were conveyed to the +Field Hospital which had just been arranged at +Serches.</p> + +<p>Poor Captain M—— died that night, and was buried +near a stone wall in the garden at the old farmhouse of +Mont de Soissons, and the doctor had to have his leg +amputated later. He was a very plucky man. Even +when wounded and lying in helpless pain, he gave instructions +about the other wounded men.</p> + +<p>After the wounded were sent away I walked a few +yards down the road to the place of the disaster. Here +was a scene of ghastly horror. On the road lay mangled +and bleeding horses, dead men lying in all sorts of +convulsed attitudes, upturned waggons, smashed and +splintered wood. Add to this the agonised groans of +our wounded men, the shrill scream of dying horses, +and that impalpable but nevertheless real feeling of +standing in the face of the Creator—one can, perhaps, +then feebly picture this scene of carnage, of the solemnity +of death, and of the pitiless woe of this devastation. +Where could one find here a trace of the glory, pomp, +and magnificence of war?</p> + +<p>The story of the incident is one not uncommon. +A party of men of the West Kents were sitting by the +roadside beyond the cutting, having a meal of bully +beef and biscuits. As they were eating, a cavalry ambulance +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_88">[88]</span>came up from the bridge over the Aisne. When +the ambulance was abreast of the West Kents, a German +battery landed a Black Maria on the ambulance, and at +the same moment shrapnel burst right amongst them +all. The heavy explosive and the shrapnel did terrible +execution. Captain F——, R.A.M.C., was killed outright, +the other doctor was badly hurt. Eight men of +the West Kents met instantaneous death; eight horses +were killed, and three horribly mangled and flung off the +road by the violence of the explosion. On examining +these dead men on the road it was noticeable that they +had all received a multiplicity of wounds. One man, +a burly sergeant-major, had a big hole in his head, another +huge hole in his neck, a lacerated wound of the +chest, and one boot and foot blown completely away. +All had widely open staring eyes. The expression +seemed to be one of overwhelming surprise and +horror.</p> + +<p>Poor fellows! Their moment of surprise and horror +must indeed have been brief, for death is dealt out at +these times with a lightning flash.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus08" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus08.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption> + <p><span class="smcap">Gun teams at the Marne.</span></p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus09" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus09.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption> + <p><span class="smcap">The way to the sunken road.</span></p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>In describing events in this war one unconsciously +has to turn to superlatives. “Devilish, hellish, bloody, +awful, and terrible” are words that come most trippingly +to the tongue. This war is superlative in all its moods +and tenses. Superlative in the number of men engaged, +in the extent of the battle front, in the duration of the +battles, in the misery it is causing and has caused, in +the awful loss of life, in the mutilating wounds caused by +the shrapnel, in the number of the missing, in the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_89">[89]</span>atrocities, inhumanities, and blasting cruelties of the +enemy, and in their wanton destruction of all that is +sacred and revered.</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“Few few shall part</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Where many meet.”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_90">[90]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_X">CHAPTER X.<br> +<span class="smaller">MISSY ON THE AISNE.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>We left Serches at 5 p.m. and retraced our road +for about two miles till we reached the ancient Château-farm +of Mont de Soissons. This historic farm was our +headquarters during September and till the date we +left in October 1914, and it was during this eventful +period that all the great stirring events “on the Aisne” +took place. “On the Aisne,” how much of tragedy +and pathos, of great deeds, of gallant deaths, stubborn +fighting, and indomitable courage are associated with +those words?</p> + +<p>On the night after our arrival at Mont de Soissons, +the ambulance officers were sitting about eleven o’clock +round a table in the old dining-room of the Château, +when an urgent order arrived from headquarters to +send doctors, stretcher-bearers, and ambulance waggons +with equipment to Missy. The orders were for the +ambulances to get to Missy in the dark, pick up the +wounded, and at all costs to come out again in the +dark. To get to Missy, which was situated on the far +side of the Aisne, we would have to cross the river, and,—reading +between the lines of this definite order to get +in under cover of darkness and get out again in the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_91">[91]</span>dark,—one could see that our night ride was to be a +somewhat perilous one.</p> + +<p>Section C, the section to which I was attached, +was ordered to undertake the task, and at twelve o’clock, +on a pitch-dark rainy night, our section was ready to +move off. We had five waggons, with the complete +<i>personnel</i> of one section. Major B—— was in command, +with Lieutenant I—— and myself as the other medical +officers, and with us Monsignor, the Catholic chaplain +attached to our field ambulance, also came as a +volunteer. Monsignor was the salt of the earth, and +whenever he thought that he could be of service to our +wounded men he was there. There was no demand +on him on this wild rainy night to leave the comfortable +shelter of the farmhouse and voyage out towards the +enemy lines; but he had a strong sense of duty, and +behind the priest there was more than a <i>soupçon</i> of +the knight-errant, who warmed at the thought of a +dangerous adventure.</p> + +<p>We were not permitted to light our waggon lamps, +and in the darkness we rumbled off, anxious not to lose +any time over our mission, and if possible complete it +under cover of darkness.</p> + +<p>Misfortune dogged us from the start. We had but +one map; and as nobody could give us any directions, +that was our only guide. We mapped out the route, +Mont de Soissons to Serches—Serches to Venizel on the +banks of the Aisne, where was the bridge by which +we were to cross the river—Venizel to Bucy le Long, and +thence to Missy. Altogether, we reckoned that we had +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_92">[92]</span>7 or 8 miles at least to go; but it proved to be a +“long, long way to Tipperary.”</p> + +<p>After being five minutes on the march we discovered +that we were on the wrong road, and it took +twenty minutes to turn the waggons on the narrow, +muddy <i>pavé</i> and get on again. Passing through +Serches, we turned to the left and followed the road +through a valley leading to the banks of the Aisne. +Here again we were nearly off on a wrong road, and +lost about another twenty minutes righting ourselves. +The country was intersected with roads not indicated +on our map. We now got on to a narrow road dipping +sharply down towards a clump of trees, and here one +of our waggons slipped over the embankment, and one +of the horses was killed. We could not get the waggon +up again, so abandoned it and pushed on with our +remaining four waggons, water cart, and supply waggon. +The loss of this waggon was a serious blow to us, as +events will show.</p> + +<p>As we entered the forest we were challenged by a +sentry of the Cameron regiment, who passed us on. +A Cameron officer met us here and told us that we were +going into a bad place, as late that afternoon he had +lost some men from shrapnel at the very spot where +we then were. Progress was very slow for the next +500 yards, as the road was barricaded with felled trees, +and trenches had been dug alongside. After negotiating +this nasty corner we got on quickly to Venizel.</p> + +<p>We reached Venizel right on the banks of the Aisne, +and learned to our chagrin that the fine stone bridge +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_93">[93]</span>had been destroyed by the German artillery that day. +The engineers with superhuman energy had just about +completed a pontoon bridge. We were kept waiting +here for an hour. Then, one waggon at a time, we got +across. The bridge was very doubtfully lit at either +end by darkened lanterns, and one seemed to be very +close to the swift current of the Aisne, already in flood. +At the far side of the bridge our progress was again +very slow for some time, as we had to meander gingerly +between the trenches dug for the men who were holding +the bridge-end. As we left the pontoon an optimistic +engineer lieutenant, in clothes dripping with water, +cheerfully called out “Good luck. Hope you get +back all right.” In reply we warned him that he +would get pneumonia if he didn’t change his clothes, +and that it was foolish to take baths in the Aisne with +a uniform on.</p> + +<p>Our road lay now along a flat plain, curving to the +right. The night was very dark and ominously silent. +Our men were forbidden to talk or smoke cigarettes, as +we were approaching the enemy lines. Reaching Bucy +le Long, we inquired the way from a Scottish officer +who was standing near a stone well on the village street. +All his men were alert and under arms and expecting +an attack at any moment. The officer, speaking with +the good Doric accent, indicated our way and told us +to hurry on and get under cover, as Missy was very +“nasty” just then and they expected a German attack.</p> + +<p>We realised by this time that we might get into +Missy in the dark, but by no possibility could we bring +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_94">[94]</span>the wounded out in the dark; and by the serious preparations +for repelling an attack in the village street we +knew that we could not get out in daylight. It looked +as if we were soon to be in the thick of that most +sanguinary of all forms of war—street fighting.</p> + +<p>So on we went, and after taking another wrong +turn and losing another half-hour we got on to a straight +road leading direct to Missy. It was extraordinarily +difficult to find one’s way, as the night was dark and +everything was strange and unfamiliar. There seemed +to be hundreds of roads, and the greatest care had to +be exercised; for a wrong turning would land us very +speedily in the German lines, and none of us wished +our expedition to end in an inglorious pilgrimage to +Germany.</p> + +<p>As the first doubtful streaks of dawn appeared we +reached Missy.</p> + +<p>The main street of the village was full of men of +the Norfolks and Cheshires, all up and armed, and +awaiting the Germans. There had been a very hot +skirmish outside the village on the previous afternoon, +and the Norfolks and Cheshires had lost heavily. It +was the wounded from this mêlée that we were to get +to. A cheery Norfolk sergeant directed us down a +small lane to the right of the street, telling us that there +were a lot of badly hit men somewhere at the bottom +of the lane. The lane was too narrow to admit of our +ambulances, so they were parked in front of a baker’s +shop and the horses were taken out. We hurried down +the lane and found the wounded men.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_95">[95]</span></p> + +<p>Dawn was breaking and shafts of grey light and +shadow were thrusting through the darkness. Then, +like a clap of thunder, the German batteries opened +up, and from that moment till nightfall we lived +through one of the most hellish artillery duels that any +mortal man could imagine. A tornado of shot and shell +swept across that beautiful Aisne valley. It seemed +as if all the fiends of hell were let loose. The noise was +deafening, ear-splitting, the bursting of the shells, the +mighty upheavals of earth where the shells struck, the +falling trees, falling masonry, crashing church steeples, +the rolling and bounding of stones from walls struck +by these titanic masses of iron travelling at lightning +speed, the concussion of the air, the screeching, whisking, +and sighing of the projectiles in their flight, made an +awful scene of destruction and force. Add to all this the +snarling, typewriter note of the Maxims, the angry phut +of the Mauser bullet as it struck a house or a gate, and the +crackling roars from our Lee-Metfords—truly it was the +devil’s orchestra, and the devil himself was whirling the +fiery baton. The steeple of the village church was +struck fairly by a German shell, and with a mighty +crash the stones were hurled madly on to the road +down which we had but just passed, and killed one of +our horses. Another shell plunged right into the old +church and sent its roof in a clattering hail over the +surrounding houses. A stone house at the top of our +alley-way got another shell and was levelled to the +ground, killing two women who were inside. The +corner of the building in which we were located was +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_96">[96]</span>struck by a passing shell and a huge hole was ripped +out of the solid masonry. Shrapnel burst over the +house, in the garden in front, on the doors of the house, +on the roof, and down the alley. Our red cross flag +and Union Jack were badly holed with shrapnel. At +the kitchen door a large piece of shell fell, sending mud +and gravel against the windows and into the room. A +railway line ran past the foot of our garden, and stretching +from this railway line to the banks of the Aisne in the +distance was a wide grassy meadow on which some +cows were grazing. A thicket of tall trees, surrounding +a small farmhouse, was situated to the right of the +meadow. This house was the headquarters of Count +Gleichen, the commander of the 15th Brigade. The +Germans evidently were aware of this fact, for the +first shots they fired at break of day were at this house. +We could plainly see one shot fall short of the house, +but in a straight line for it. The second shot we thought +had really got the house, but fortunately this was not so. +It landed near the door, as we learned later. After this +shot the headquarters galloped off as hard as they +could go, and the enemy tried to reach them with +shrapnel, but without success. Alongside the railway +line there was a line of trenches, and every inch of that +line seemed to have been covered during the day by the +German fire. Their artillery practice was perfect, +and at this period of the war the enemy artillery mightily +outclassed ours. Our guns from the ridge on the other +side of the Aisne made but a feeble reply to the terrific +German bombardment.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_97">[97]</span></p> + +<p>Now for the story of our wounded at Missy. When we +got down our alley at dawn on this eventful morning we +found eighty-four grievously wounded men. In a little +stone fowlhouse to the left of the alley, fourteen men were +lying packed close together. There was no place to put +one’s foot in trying to walk over them. To the right of +the alley a gate opened into a gravel yard of a fine +two-storied stone house, a very old and solidly built +building. The house formed three sides of a square; a +beautiful flower garden with a rose pergola formed the +fourth side. The gravel yard was in the centre. The +lower story of this building, with the exception of the +kitchen and an adjoining room, consisted of stables, +granaries, saddlery rooms, and coachhouse. Lying on +the floors of the stable, kitchen, etc., were wounded +men. They had all been wounded the previous evening +in an attack on the enemy concealed in a wood. The +wounded in the small fowlhouse were carried, under +shrapnel fire, across the alley to the big house and placed +in the room adjoining the kitchen and in the saddlery +room. The cooks made up a big fire and soon had hot +water boiling. The three medical officers were soon +rapidly at work. The first case attended to was that +of a young soldier of the Norfolks who had been struck +by a shell in the abdomen. His intestines were lying +outside the body, and loops were inside the upper part +of his trousers. Under chloroform we did what we +could. He died painlessly four hours afterwards. +There were many bad shell wounds of the head; one +necessitating a trephining operation. One poor fellow +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_98">[98]</span>had his tongue half blown off. The loose bit was +stitched on. The compound fractures were numerous +and of a very bad type, associated with much shattering +of the bone. Four men died during the day, but our +arrival and timely help undoubtedly saved many men. +We made the poor fellows as comfortable as we could, +and we were incessantly busy from the moment we +entered this blood-stained place. I personally shall +never forget the sight of these poor, maimed, bleeding, +dying and dead men crowded together in those out-houses, +with not a soul near them to help, and I am more +than thankful that I was privileged to be of service and +to employ my professional skill to help them in their +dire hour of need. We knew that we were in a tight +corner. We expected that at any moment we would +be all blown to pieces; we did not know how we were +to get these men back to our own lines; but we knew +also that whatever happened we would stand by our +helpless countrymen to the last, and if we failed to get +them safely back it would not be our fault. I mentioned +previously that when our ambulance got orders +to go to Missy, Monsignor, the Roman Catholic chaplain, +volunteered to come with us. It is difficult to attempt +to write of our brave Monsignor. He was the bravest +of the brave. When the three medical officers were +working hard with the wounded—dressing, operating, +anæsthetising—Monsignor was very busy too. He made +hot soups, hot coffee, prepared stimulating drinks, set +orderlies to work to see that every man who could take +nourishment got it. One man injured in the mouth could +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_99">[99]</span>swallow only with the greatest difficulty. Monsignor +patiently sat by this man, and one way or another with +a spoon managed to give him a pint of hot Oxo soup +and a good stiff nip of brandy. This splendid prelate +carried straw with his own hands and made pillows +and beds for our men. He took off boots and cut off +bloody coats and trousers in order to help the work +of the surgeons. He rummaged in a cellar in the house +and discovered a box of apples. These he cut into +slices for our men. He stood by our dying men and +spoke words of cheer and comfort to the poor helpless +fellows. He was absolutely reckless about himself. +Exposed to shrapnel and shell fire many times during +the day, he was too busy attending to the wounded to +think about anything else. Towards dusk, when our +work eased off, we collected some pieces of shell which +fell near him—as souvenirs. I looked at Monsignor +many times during the day, and was struck with his +expression of content and his happy smile. He was +exalted and proud and happy to be where a good priest,—and +what a good priest he was!—could be of such +great service. I am not a Catholic, but I honour the +Church that can produce such a man as Monsignor, and +I very greatly honour Monsignor.</p> + +<p>As darkness came on the hellish artillery fire +quietened down and then ceased altogether. The rifle-firing +continued intermittently for a little while longer +and then it too ceased. We were now “up against” +the last and greatest trial of all—the evacuation of our +wounded. During the day some more wounded men +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_100">[100]</span>had crawled into us, and we had now 102 men to bring +back to our lines. We managed in the darkness to get +two large French country carts to act as ambulances. +Our four ambulance waggons were, of course, not +enough, and even with the help of the country carts +we could not accommodate 102 wounded men. Every +man wounded in the head or arms who could walk, +was told off to march with our stretcher-bearers. We +packed the wounded lying-down cases into the +ambulance waggons and on to the country carts. +Plenty of straw had previously been placed in these +latter. We were compelled to load up our waggons +and carts far too heavily, but our position was a serious +one; we had to get the wounded out somehow, and we +had no one to help us. Our troops had retired from +Missy during the day and we were left all alone in +front of the Germans and quite at the mercy of their +guns. The <i>via dolorosa</i> of our sorely wounded was +on this night a very pitiable one. Exposed to rain, +lying in the utmost discomfort, compelled to keep for +hours a cramped position, they deserved our pity. +The wounded men who had to march were also in a +sorry plight. These poor fellows were not fit to march; +weak with shock, pain, and loss of blood, they ought +all to have been in bed; yet they had to march, for we +could not leave them behind.</p> + +<p>At last all was ready to start. Strict orders were +given against lights and cigarettes. No talking was +allowed, for the Germans were just “over the way,” +and they are people with “long ears.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_101">[101]</span></p> + +<p>Before setting out we buried four officers and five +men in a grave by the railway, near the bottom of the +garden. This mournful duty over, the ambulance +moved off.</p> + +<p>This time we anticipated no delay, as we knew +the road—vain hope. The night was again very dark, +and a drizzle of rain was falling. We had just emerged +from the silent village on the road to Bucy le Long +when the inky blackness of the night was cut through +by the powerful beam of a searchlight played from +the German lines. The light swept slowly up and +down our column in a zig-zag wave once, and then a +second time, this time more slowly still. Every detail +was illuminated with the brilliant glare. The light +was then fixed ominously on our front waggon, which +had a big red cross painted on its canvas sides. The +column kept moving slowly on, but for ten minutes +that sinister, baleful light played all round the first +ambulance. We all thought that our last hour had +come—that after going through such a hellish day in +the farmhouse at Missy we were to be finally scuppered +on the muddy road. We knew that the Germans were +only about 800 yards away. With strained nerves we +waited, expecting them to turn a machine-gun on us. +The searchlight played up and down the column once +more and then was turned in another direction. My +impression is that the Germans made out the red cross +on the leading waggon and so let us pass. If they +wished they could have destroyed us easily. We all +breathed again and continued on our way. After passing +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_102">[102]</span>through Bucy le Long, where we again saw our soldiers, +we came across some returning-empty motor lorries. +We placed all our marching wounded on to these and +eased off the pressure in the country carts by taking off +a few men. At Venizel we were held up for five hours. +The pontoon bridge had given way during the day +under the weight of a piece of heavy French artillery. +The gun had been fished out from the bottom of the +Aisne with great difficulty, but the horses were drowned. +The Engineers were straining every nerve to repair +the bridge. It was vitally important to hurry, as this +bridge was the only artery of communication between +our advanced troops and the ammunition supplies. +At last we got across and reached Mont de Soissons, +our ambulance headquarters, at nine in the morning. +The wounded were handed over to the other medical +officers. Men and officers were completely done up. +We had been marching during two anxious, harassing +nights, and had lived through a bad day, but—we got +out our wounded.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_103">[103]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XI">CHAPTER XI.<br> +<span class="smaller">ON THE AISNE AT MONT DE SOISSONS.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>Our Field Ambulance headquarters at the Château-farm +of Mont de Soissons was occupied by us till October. +During this time our army was fighting hard. Most of +the days were rainy, and the trenches on the other side +of the river suffered from this. To our right was +Braisne on the river, and to our far right was Reims. +To our left was Soissons—about eight miles away. +We were about fifty-eight miles from Paris.</p> + +<p>Our billet was a good one. Imagine a huge hollow +square surrounded by stone buildings, and the square +itself filled with an enormous manure heap. One side +of the square was taken up by the two-storied old +stone building containing kitchen, hall, sleeping-rooms, +and offices. Stables for sheep, cows, and +horses formed two sides. The fourth side was a +truly beautiful and artistic one. It was formed by +a wonderful old chapel, and remains of what was part +of the refectory and cellars of a monastery. These +buildings were in a splendid state of preservation, and +were now used to hold straw and cattle fodder. The +chapel had been built by the Knights Templars, and was +in its day a place of renown. It is indeed a pity that +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_104">[104]</span>such historic buildings are so neglected and forgotten. +In the lofts of the dwelling-house and in a shed outside +we put our sick and wounded men. In a bedroom +downstairs we put the wounded officers. We were +principally concerned at this time in the transportation +of sick and wounded to railhead. Although we were +at headquarters of an ambulance, no preparation or +effort was made for any special treatment. Very few +of our cases remained more than twelve to twenty-four +hours. Motor lorries arrived at Mont de Soissons +every morning, and on these our men piled straw and +placed the men, covering all with a huge tarpaulin +cover raised tent fashion on upright sticks. This +method of transporting wounded was crude and brutal. +There were no motor ambulances at this time. The +first motor ambulance arrived after we had been ten +days at Mont de Soissons. Why motor ambulances +were not with us from the beginning of the war is a +question which the Army Medical Department will +have to answer when the war is over, and the necessary +public washing-day arrives.</p> + +<p>Several wounded men and officers died at Mont de +Soissons and were buried in the garden alongside a +stone wall. Wooden crosses mark each grave-head, +and two of them have stone crosses erected and engraved +by one of our orderlies. And the women of the +house and neighbourhood attend to the graves, and place +flowers on them. It is beautiful to see how reverently +the French women look after our soldiers’ graves. The +old lady—the owner of this farm-château—has the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_105">[105]</span>names and dates of burial of all officers and men interred +in this garden, and the relatives of these dead +heroes will be able one day to visit this quiet corner of a +garden in France and will see how beautifully the +graves have been tended by the simple, kindly French +peasant women.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus10" style="max-width: 43.75em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus10.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption> + <p><span class="smcap">Mont de Soissons, showing the old Templars’ Hall and Church.</span></p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>Our life at this place was full of interest. In front +of us were our own batteries, behind the ridge; then +beyond was the river, and beyond that our advanced +troops in the trenches. To our left, the French +occupied Soissons. The French artillery was continually +in action, pounding on every day <i>sans cesse</i> and +generally also through the night, and it was excellent +and well served; but our guns were silent most of the +day. At eleven o’clock in the morning they would +open up and leisurely plunge their shot across the +valley at Fort Condé for half an hour; then remain +silent till four or five in the evening, when another +bombardment would commence and continue till dark.</p> + +<p>Occasionally they seemed to wake up and become +very angry, and on these occasions would bark and roar +and screech for a couple of hours. The Germans never +refused an artillery duel, and when our batteries seemed +to wake up the Germans did too, and hurtled across +their shot at a tremendous pace. The Germans at +this time wasted an enormous lot of ammunition, but +they nevertheless were extraordinarily formidable and +effective with this arm. There was a small embankment +outside our farmhouse, and this was a box seat +<i>de luxe</i> every afternoon from four till half-past six +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_106">[106]</span>o’clock. On our right, stretching on to Reims, and +on our left towards Soissons, the artillery, German, +French, and British, was then at its best. Sometimes +the sound would be deafening all along the line, sometimes +it would concentrate itself in our particular +corner. Directly opposite us, on the far side of the +river at Fort Condé, the Germans had a very strong +artillery position. Their guns there outranged ours at +first, and used on fine evenings, at the usual concert +hour, to give us some splendid exhibitions. First +would come one shot to the right, and then one to the +left. Then four flashes of yellow flame followed by +huge cascades of earth would appear to strike the same +spot, and a few seconds after the dub-dub-dub-dub +of the explosions would reverberate and re-echo across +the hills and valleys. They would sometimes pick out +one particular area of ground on our front and simply +cover every yard of it with bursting shells. At other +times they would plant a line of shells right across a +particular place. Again they seemed sometimes to go +“shell mad,” and would wildly send shells to all points +of the compass. In the darkness of an autumn night +the bursting of the shells was a terribly magnificent +sight. We could see our shells, and especially the French +shells, burst over the German positions. The French +artillery always excited our admiration. The great +guns, the men, the rapidity of fire, the noise, and the +terrible bursting charges were all wonderful. No +wonder France is proud of her big guns and her splendid +gunners.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_107">[107]</span></p> + +<p>About ten o’clock in the mornings we frequently +were surveyed by Taubes. Many of them were most +daring. They were always pursued by our men and +the French; and wonderful pursuits and flights were +witnessed. Two of our aeroplanes often started +together after a Taube. One would fly directly for the +enemy craft, and one would circle into the upper blue +and try to get above it. We were told that they +used to fire at one another with carbines, but we never +could hear the shots or see any smoke. The Taube +always made off. Sometimes a Taube would be up +alone, and after hovering and circling over our gun +positions would make a sudden dash to directly above +a battery, drop a smoke signal, and fly away; this signal +would be rapidly followed by some German shelling. +The greatest spectacular effect of all was to watch +the German shots from their anti-aircraft guns bursting +round our aeroplanes. It was like pelting a butterfly +with snowballs. We could see the burst and flash +long before the sound reached us. The bursts produced +white and black smoke balls, the black one +appearing a little higher and later than the white. +The white smoke balls unrolled themselves into a +curious shape, very like a big German pipe. There +was a huge bulb and a long, curling, thick stem. We +stood often with “our hearts in our mouths” expecting +that one of our daring flyers had been hit. Smoke-bursts +would appear below, above, and round the craft, and +then one shot would seem to actually hit it. But no; +a minute afterwards we could make out the little +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_108">[108]</span>machine flying higher or emerging swaggeringly from +the midst. We watched our own bursts round a Taube +with a different spirit, waiting eagerly for the <i>coup de +grâce</i>, and having no humane thoughts for the daring +pilot. One afternoon we were certain that a Taube had +been struck, for one burst appeared to be right on, but +when the smoke cleared away the Taube was still +going merrily. Then it began to slowly descend, then +ascend again, and then suddenly plane away to our +right. From the last shot she really had “got it in the +neck,” as Tommy Atkins puts it, and the machine +plunged down behind the French lines. The pilot was +killed, the observer got a fractured spine, and was +dragged out of the wreckage—paralysed.</p> + +<p>On the 19th September, orders from General French +were read out congratulating the British troops upon +their valour and tenacity at the Marne, and commending +their courage on the Aisne. We were assured that by +holding on to our present positions the enemy would +be forced to retire.</p> + +<p>On one Sunday, service was conducted by Monsignor, +our Catholic chaplain, for Catholic soldiers, in one of +the stable lofts at the farm. The preacher and the +men had to climb up a ladder placed on the outside of +the building, and get into the loft through a small door. +The ladder was a crazy affair, but Monsignor tested it +by going up first. He was a light-weight and very +active, but a burly Falstaffian sergeant looked very +hesitatingly at it, and it certainly creaked and bent +considerably as he slowly mounted. The loft was +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_109">[109]</span>packed with men, and we heard afterwards that the +floor was not meant for a heavy weight. We were +relieved to learn that there were no casualties at the +service, and that Monsignor and his flock had not +gone through the floor and startled the horses underneath.</p> + +<p>I spent one forenoon in an advanced artillery +observation post, and tried to make out the German +positions through a telescope. We could make out +some white waggons moving on a road far off, but they +were out of range. The observation officer got to his +post by walking up a cutting and then crawling into a +hole, and there he stood for hour after hour patiently +watching the other lines, while his sergeant sat close by, +well concealed, and with a telephone receiver over his +head. Any observations of importance were ’phoned +back to the battery. These observation posts were +dangerous “spots,” for they were well within the reach +of enemy shells and afforded very little cover. The +observation officer here was an enthusiast, and I think +he was familiar with the outline of every tree and rock +on the other side. It requires some practice to be +really expert with a telescope. General officers +occasionally came up to talk to our observer and peer +at the opposite ridge. I met this artillery observation +officer later on in the north of France, and this time he +was a patient in hospital with a scalp wound. He +had been in a house well in advance of our own advanced +line, and had made a small hole in the roof through +which he obtained a good view of the enemy dispositions, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_110">[110]</span>and directed the fire of his battery. The German +is a wily man, and evidently did not like the position +of this house, for he shelled it out of existence. I was +glad that the major got out with nothing more than a +scalp wound, for good artillerists are worth much to our +army to-day. Our artillery officers seem to enjoy war +more than any other branch of the service. This major +told me that one day his own and a French battery +got fairly on to a German battery that had done considerable +damage. The Allied guns destroyed the +Germans, and the French were frantically delighted, +their colonel coming over and warmly embracing +Major X—— and kissing him on both cheeks. We told +the major that he was a certain starter for the Legion +of Honour. The major was a happy man when he was +standing in a hole, or peering round a piece of rock, +telescope to eye, and a sergeant lying near him with a +telephone receiver strapped on his head.</p> + +<p>One afternoon on the Aisne we heard that the +Norfolks, who were in the trenches on our front, were +hugely delighted. They had just killed a sniper. This +particular sniper had become notorious, for he was a +dead shot and had hit many of the Norfolk boys. +Owing to the vigilance of this particular sniper they +could not get hot tea into the trenches, and several of +the Norfolk “Bisleys” were keenly anxious to bag +him. One day a tree was observed to rustle after a +sniping shot, and at once the Norfolks sent a hail of +bullets into that particular tree. This brought the man +down, for winged by Norfolk bullets the arboreal +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_111">[111]</span>Prussian fell out of the branches like a ripe acorn, +amidst the cheers of the men in the trenches.</p> + +<p>It was said that these snipers on the Aisne belonged +to the Forest Guards, who were rangers in the Imperial +forests of Eastern Prussia, and were dead shots, +accustomed all their lives to shoot wild pigs and +wolves. They were highly unpopular amongst our +men.</p> + +<p>Sniping is quite in accordance with the rules of +war, but the soldiers feel that sniping as the Germans +play it is not “cricket.” They naturally feel very +angry with a sniper who gets up a haystack with some +provisions and ammunition, and after having eaten all +his food and fired off all his cartridges calmly emerges +and surrenders.</p> + +<p>Our men are extraordinarily good to wounded +Germans and to prisoners, but these sniping sneaks stir +their venom and ire. I saw one of these surrendered +uninjured snipers at Ypres meet with savage scowls and +epithets from some men of a company whose officer +had been killed by him that morning.</p> + +<p>About the last week of September I brought over +some motor ambulances full of sick men to Braisne. +This charming little town, situated on the Aisne and on +the Marne Canal, was full of ambulances and clearing +hospitals. Every house almost had a red-cross flag up, +for the place was crammed with sick and wounded, and +the clearing hospitals had been very busy with the big +casualties. Three doctors had been killed a few days +previously at Vailly when in action with their regiments, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_112">[112]</span>and another doctor had died the next day after having +had his leg amputated for a bad shell wound. He was +awarded the V.C., but did not live to enjoy that signal +honour and distinction.</p> + +<p>The clearing hospitals and ambulances were sending +large numbers of sick soldiers down to the base <i>en +route</i> for England—mostly cases of dysentery, lumbago, +and rheumatism. Many of these men looked bad +wrecks, and no wonder, when one remembers the +rapid, arduous retreat from Mons and Le Cateau in +the broiling summer heat, followed by the hard fighting +and marching in the rain from the Marne to the +Aisne, and how this was succeeded by the hardships, +miseries, and discomforts in the wet sodden trenches +at a time when it was impossible to give them hot +cooked food and sufficient warmth. More men were +wanted, and until they arrived the few had to do the +work of many. The 5th Division had been promised +a rest in reserve to recuperate, but not a man could be +spared from the line we were so hardly holding, and so +they simply had to “plug on,” and, as cheerfully as they +could, sing “It’s a long, long way to Tipperary”; but +they did not sing much at this time.</p> + +<p>While we were at Mont de Soissons and a week after +the arrival of our first red-cross motor ambulances, +we were given instructions to look out for a mysterious +red-cross motor-car driven by an officer in khaki who +had a beard and wore a red-cross brassard on his +arm. This car seemed to be very busy and was constantly +travelling up and down the roads and always +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_113">[113]</span>at high speed—too high a speed to be challenged. +Sitting at the front of the car and next the driver +was a nurse, dressed in nurse’s uniform, wearing a white +cap, and also with a red-cross brassard on the left arm. +We smelt something fishy about it all. Firstly, none +of our medical officers wore beards; secondly, medical +officers did not drive motor ambulances about; thirdly, +there were no nurses with us. Nurses are not allowed +in the fighting line. We watched for this car always, +and always wondered what we would do if we did +sight it, for none of us had arms, and this villain with +the beard would be sure to have a loaded six-shooter +near at hand. Two days after our warning the car was +spotted by a sentry, who challenged, but the driver went +furiously past him. He was not out of the bush though, +for a barricade had been erected half-way across the +road at a very sharp turn, and to get round this the car +had to slow down to “dead slow.” A British sentry +was here, and other soldiers were standing not far away. +The bearded driver was ordered to stop and get out +under cover of the sentry’s rifle. The guard came up +and the two motorists were arrested.</p> + +<p>The man with the beard was a German spy right +through, and he was handed over to the French, who +shot him at daybreak next day. They say he died +very gamely.</p> + +<p>The “nurse” who sat beside him was not shot. We +were told that “she” was really a man, a dapper little +German waiter who had been on the staff of a leading +hotel in Paris for some years. I saw the man with the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_114">[114]</span>beard shortly after he was arrested. He looked quiet +and scholarly and somewhat meek, but “still waters +run deep.”</p> + +<p>At 4 a.m. on the 27th of September we were all +“turned out” by our O.C., who had just received urgent +orders to be prepared to leave Mont de Soissons as the +Germans “were over the river.” After standing by for +two hours we got word that it was a false alarm. Something +had been irritating the Germans this morning, +for at daybreak they opened a furious fire on our +positions. As far as we knew it wasn’t the Kaiser’s +birthday or the anniversary of any prehistoric German +victory, so we put it down to nerves. Their gunners +made a dead set on a field in our front just behind the +ridge along the Aisne. Hundreds of Black Marias and +shrapnel were sent on to that unlucky piece of ground, +and it was wonderful to see the shot-ridden earth sent +up in huge volcanic bursts. The enemy thought that +we had a battery there, but we hadn’t one nearer than +half a mile, hence our enjoyment of the spectacle.</p> + +<p>On the afternoon of this day we heard that Mr. +Winston Churchill was with us and was dining with the +Scots Greys. At least that was the rumour, but we +hardly believed anything we heard out here. He was +reported to have said that the war would last another +eighteen months. This piece of information, following +on an early morning’s alarm and in cold wet weather, +was distinctly cheering! However, as a kind of set-off, +in the late afternoon we heard that the Crown Prince +had been buried again, this time in the Argonne, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_115">[115]</span>and that it had been authentically established that +he was quite dead before having been buried. We were +glad to know this, because on the other occasions when +he had been buried, he had not really been quite dead.</p> + +<p>We were at this period suffering from the effects +of a dislocated postal system. I had not yet received +any letters from England, and did not know if mine had +reached there. We were all anxious to get the London +papers to “see how we were getting on at the front.” +We knew what was going on around us, but knew nothing +more. One medical officer returned from Braisne, told +us that he had heard a great rumour there. We were +all agog to hear it. After whetting our appetites he +gravely told us that a Padre had informed him that, +“All Europe was in the melting pot and the devil was +stirring the broth.” This officer was duly punished by +having his rum ration cut off.</p> + +<p>One day on the Aisne I was an interested listener +to a discussion between two British officers and three +French officers on national characteristics, and this led +up to a review of the way that the British, French, +and German charge with the bayonet.</p> + +<p>The French charge magnificently with the bayonet, +but they charge in a state of tremendous excitement. +When rushing across an open space to the enemy they +shout and scream with excitement, “France!” “A +bas les Boches!” “En avant!” They are uplifted +with the wild ecstasy of the onfall. Men fall in the mad +rush never to rise again. <i>N’importe</i>—all is unnoticed, +on they go, an impetuous and irresistible avalanche +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_116">[116]</span>of steel, yelling, stabbing, slaying, overwhelming. +They are superb, these Frenchmen. I have seen them +charge, and know from what I saw the splendid fellows +they are. In the Argonne, on the Aisne, and in Flanders, +the French soldier has carried out as resolute and daring +bayonet charges as ever his fathers did under Napoleon, +when they stormed the bridge at Lodi, swept over the +field of Marengo, and hacked their bloody path at +Austerlitz.</p> + +<p>The British charge stoically and more grimly. +They do not shout. I have heard them cursing. The +British line advances as a sinister cold line of steel, +in a sort of jog-trot. It is a line of cool-brained +gladiators, alert of eye and thoroughly bent on slaughter. +Our Briton sees his foe, and smites savagely with the +calculating judgment of a good Rugby forward and +with the bound of a wild cat. The disciplined valour +and the savage relentlessness of the British bayonet +attack has been heralded in story from Malplaquet to +Waterloo, from Badajos to Inkermann, and historians +will chronicle the undying glory of the 7th Division +at Ypres when with rifle and bayonet it held the gate +to Calais.</p> + +<p>The German, in spite of what is often said to the +contrary, is a brave and determined man with the +bayonet. The German discipline is undoubted. It is +a part of the people. It is the fibre of the nation. +Discipline, subjection to authority, has not to be +taught to this people; it is absorbed into their very +being. The discipline of mind and body as we +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_117">[117]</span>understand it is not the discipline of the German, +for his is an obedience to authority only,—a “go” +when ordered to “go,” a “come” when ordered to +“come.” But it is also a <span class="allsmcap">DIE</span> when ordered to face +certain death. Men with whom this discipline is a +message may not make saints or pleasant companions, +but do make sturdy foes and stubborn fighters.</p> + +<p>They charge well, advancing with a stooping, jerky +trot, uttering hoarse guttural cries and “Hurrahs.” On +they come, in solid masses shoulder to shoulder, hoping +by the weight and speed of the dense columns to get a +momentum that nothing can withstand. When in a +solid compact phalanx this German charge is very +dangerous and formidable, and has been able, although +at a frightful cost, to brush aside and overwhelm +veteran British and French troops.</p> + +<p>But if this compact line and solid column is broken, +as it so often is to-day by shrapnel, rifle, or machine-gun +fire, the sense of cohesion or “shoulder to shoulder” +support is lost, and the heavy column is then no match +for the lightning bayonet onfall of the French infantry +or the weighty heave forward of a British regiment. +The German infantryman is not an “individual” +fighter, but he is nevertheless a brave soldier, and knows +how to meet death. All three peoples have a great +respect for each other when it comes to close quarters +and take no chances.</p> + +<p>A curious feature of French bayonet charges was +told me by a French officer. He said that if the daily +dispatches were read carefully it would be noticed that +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_118">[118]</span>the Germans, when they attacked the French, generally +made them vacate the first trench, but that the French +always counter-attacked, retook their own, and carried +the charge on into the German lines. He said that +the Frenchmen are very easily surprised and are only +at their best when they know what they are up against +and what they have to do. They also require at times +to be worked up to the “fire” of the business, and that +this was specially true of younger troops. The officers +know this, and when their men fall back from the front +trench, they get them together, tell them that they +must go forward again,—that France is watching them, +that the cursed German has his foot in beautiful +France, that the sons of the men of Jena and Wagram +must still show their metal; then drawing his sword, +and with “En avant, mes enfants,” the officer leads +forward, followed by his cheering men, and they are at +these times irresistible.</p> + +<p>There is a story told at the front of a famous +Scottish regiment whose deeds have won admiration in +nearly every battle in English history, which occupied +some advanced trenches. The Germans rushed them +in overwhelming numbers and drove them out with +the bayonet. Another regiment, composed almost +entirely of little Cockneys, was called up in support, +and gallantly rushing forward drove out the Germans +and took many prisoners. They then told the brawny +Scotchmen that they could go back to their trenches +again and if they felt anxious at any time the M—— +boys from London would be only too pleased to come +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_119">[119]</span>back and comfort them. Some weeks afterwards the +Kilties helped the Cockneys out of a hot corner, so the +odds are now even.</p> + +<p>Talking of bayonet charges leads up to bayonet +wounds. It is a curious fact, well noted amongst +surgeons at the front, that there are very few bayonet +wounds to treat. Yet bayonet charges are constantly +taking place, and very bloody mêlées they are.</p> + +<p>Where are these men who have been speared by +the bayonet? The majority are dead, for the bayonet +when it gets home is a lethal weapon. When it pierces +the chest or abdomen it, as a rule, reaches a big +artery; a rapid hæmorrhage follows, and death comes +speedily.</p> + +<p>The majority of bayonet wounds are in the chest +and abdomen, and ghastly terrible wounds they are. +After the Bavarians and Prussians were hurled back +at Ypres and La Bassée there were comparatively +few bayonet wounds. Amongst the vast number of +wounded men in the Clearing Hospital at Bethune I +had personally to treat only one or two cases of bayonet +wounds. These were, as a rule, simple flesh wounds, +and were the lucky exceptions amongst the bayonet +victims.</p> + +<p>This feature about bayonet wounds was also noted by +Larrey, the surgeon-in-chief to Napoleon during the +great Continental wars, by M’Grigor, surgeon-in-chief +to Wellington in the Peninsula, and by surgical observers +at a later period during the Crimean War. A +war correspondent in the Crimea wrote that a man +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_120">[120]</span>who has been bayoneted dies in great pain, that his +body and limbs are twisted and contorted by the last +agonised movements preceding death. This belief is +fallacious. Men who die speedily from a sudden loss +of blood die easily and quietly. They go to sleep.</p> + +<p>The German bayonet is longer, broader, and heavier +than that of the Allies. The French bayonet is not a +blade, but is shaped like a spear or stiletto. The British +bayonet is a blade, short and light. It is not, however, +the blade or the stiletto, it is the man behind that +counts.</p> + +<p>I mentioned before that our sick and wounded were +housed in a loft of the farm-château of Mont de Soissons +and in a shed outside. This shed or lean-to was a most +uninviting place for the sick. One side was formed by +a stone wall, from the top of that a roof projected, and +this roof was held up by wooden pillars. There was no +floor and there were no other walls. It was quite open +to every wind that blew, except for the protection of the +stone wall and the roof. Straw was laid on the ground +of this lean-to and this straw, owing to the constant +rain and the very muddy, filthy state of the roads and +yards round about, got very sodden at times. New +straw was then put on top of this old straw—that was +all. It wasn’t very much, truly. Yet badly wounded +men were brought in in large numbers from the trenches +and kept lying on this sodden straw for hours, and in +some cases for a whole day and night. If the wounded +man arrived after eleven o’clock in the morning he had +to put up with a night on the straw in this lean-to. If +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_121">[121]</span>the man was sick from one of the usual diseases prevalent +at this time—lumbago, rheumatism, and sciatica—he +was led up to the loft in the main house. If he had a +slight wound he was also led up to this place, but if he +had a compound fracture or an abdominal injury it was +necessary to carry him up on a stretcher, and the stair +up to the loft was so narrow that the task was an +extremely difficult one, and full of pain and misery +to the patient. The loft was a draughty hole and not +fit to accommodate a sick mountain goat. But it was a +Buckingham Palace to the Whitechapel lean-to on the +stone wall outside. Yet on this dirty sodden straw I +have dressed foul, septic compound fractures, have +elevated a fragment of loose bone pressing on a man’s +brain, and have stood by men dying from gas gangrene, +and from pneumonia due to exposure from lying out +in the rain and cold after having been wounded. And +every time I saw men lying out in that open shed I +have asked, “Why have we not motor ambulances at +the front?” Every morning empty lorries returning +from distributing their supplies at the front called in at +Mont de Soissons and took our wounded down to railhead; +and this method of transportation of the wounded +was one of the horrors of war. Our wounded and sick +did not arrive according to any time-table, and if they +arrived at midday or in the afternoon or evening, they +had, willy-nilly, to be accommodated at the château-farm, +and the only accommodation we could offer was +the windy, inhospitable loft or the straw-covered lean-to +outside. If we had had motor ambulances all of this +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_122">[122]</span>would have been avoided. Then the patients would +not have had to be sent to our headquarters at all, but +could have been carried to railhead at once. Why did +we not have motor ambulances at the outset of war? +God knows. Had anyone asked me five years ago what +was the best way of transporting a wounded or sick man +with an army in the field, I would have answered at +once, “By motor ambulance, of course.”</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus11" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus11.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption> + <p><span class="smcap">Loading wounded at Soissons. The first motor + ambulance on the Aisne.</span></p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus12" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus12.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption> + <p><span class="smcap">The lean-to at Soissons. Unloading wounded.</span></p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>If a man is wounded in the streets of London or any +other city in the civilised world he is conveyed to the +nearest hospital by an ambulance motor-car. When the +Army Service Corps had to arrange its transport for this +war, they naturally thought of nothing else than motor +traction. Yet in spite of the lessons of army manœuvres +in this country, and of the dictates of reason, our Army +Medical Department sent Field Ambulances to the front +with the old horse-ambulance of the days of Napoleon +and Wellington, and did not have a solitary motor +ambulance where they were so vitally necessary. The +position was so odd and incomprehensible that I wrote +about it to Lord ——, who, I knew, would look at the +matter from the view-point of common sense and +humanity. Lord —— has a great name in the Empire, +and has been one of the best and ablest of governors of +one of our Dominions beyond the seas. I knew that if +I wrote to him, and he chose to act as I was sure he would, +something would occur. I did not, owing to army postal +delays, get his answer till long after, and it was worded +as follows (allowing for considerable deletions of some +parts of it, and for names):</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_123">[123]</span></p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">My Dear Martin</span>,—I received your letter in +London on Wednesday night. Within half an hour +of its arrival I hunted up Mr. ——. I found him in a +state of great indignation because of the obstacles put +in the way of —— giving the assistance they desire to +the wounded at the Front. I understand, however, +that sixty motor ambulances will be ready on Wednesday +next, and that further ambulances will be provided +later. Your letter has been read by Lord Kitchener. +It arrived at an opportune moment, when the great want +of motor ambulances at the Front was being realised +here. I hope that even before you receive this letter +the scandal which makes you so righteously indignant +may have been removed and that proper arrangements +are now in successful operation for the treatment of the +wounded.</p> + +<p>“Please let me hear from you from time to time how +things are going, and always remember that I shall +be more than pleased if I can give you the slightest +assistance in getting those things done which you may +think necessary.—Believe me, yours sincerely,</p> + +<p class="right">“——.”</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>Shortly after this, motor ambulances appeared, +and the position eased, to the infinite and lasting benefit +of our wounded officers and men. I still, however, often +wonder why motor ambulances were not landed in +France with the other motor vehicles when our Expeditionary +Army disembarked. Many lives would have +been saved, and much suffering would have been +avoided.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_124">[124]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XII">CHAPTER XII.<br> +<span class="smaller">FIELD AMBULANCES AND MILITARY HOSPITALS.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>The military medical unit known as a Field Ambulance +deserves some description.</p> + +<p>The Field Ambulances are officially designated as +Divisional Troops under the command of the Assistant +Director of Medical Services. A Field Ambulance +consists of three sections, known as A, B, and C sections, +and each of these sections is divided into a “bearer” +and a “tent” subdivision.</p> + +<p>The <i>personnel</i> consists of a commanding officer, +generally a major or a lieutenant-colonel of the +Royal Army Medical Corps, who is always in one of +the tent subdivisions, and of nine other medical officers +and a quartermaster, generally an honorary lieutenant +or captain, of the R.A.M.C. In addition there are 242 +of other ranks, bearers, orderlies, cooks, Army Service +Corps drivers, officers’ servants, dispensers, clerks, +washermen, etc. The <i>personnel</i> is fairly evenly divided +amongst the three sections, so that on occasion a +section of a Field Ambulance can carry on a limited +but complete service. As will be seen later on at +Bethune, one section of our ambulance did this, and +for a time acted as a Clearing Hospital and passed +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_125">[125]</span>thousands of wounded through its hands. B and C +sections have three four-horsed ambulance waggons, +and A section has four, making a total of ten waggons +for the transport of wounded. The other transport +of a Field Ambulance consists of six general service +waggons, three medical store carts, three water carts, +a cooks’ cart, and an extra cart for odd jobs. The +drivers and grooms have about one hundred horses +to look after.</p> + +<p>The Field Ambulance carries a complete hospital +emergency equipment. Theoretically, if necessary a +serious abdominal operation, a trephining operation, +or an amputation could be carried out at an ambulance +station by skilled surgeons surrounded by the latest +and best of surgical instruments and in antiseptic +surroundings. I said theoretically, but as a matter of +fact such a state of affairs is not achieved, and the +surgery performed at Field Ambulance stations is +crude and temporary.</p> + +<p>A Field Ambulance station is a first-aid station, and +surgery is avoided as much as possible. The equipment +of our Field Ambulance to-day leaves very much to +be desired, and I earnestly hope that during this war +the whole organisation will be thoroughly reviewed, +reorganised, and remodelled, and that there will be +evolved a medical unit more in consonance with the +modern conceptions of good clean surgery. The Field +Ambulance should receive the wounded from the +Brigade which it serves, and as long as it holds these +wounded it should be able to give them the very best +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_126">[126]</span>surgical and medical help. It must send the wounded +as speedily as possible to the hospitals and stations +in the rear, and keep the fighting line, of which it +is really a part, as clear of wounded as possible. It +must conform to the demands of the military situation; +for after all war is war, and the purpose of a war is to +beat the enemy with sound troops and get the wounded +out of the way. A Field Ambulance can do all this +and must do all this, and yet it need not be too obsessed +with the idea that immediately a badly wounded man +is brought in he must necessarily be bundled off to the +base, irrespective of the nature or magnitude of his +wounds. The future of very many battlefield injuries +depends on the first treatment received, and a +skilled surgeon surrounded with familiar tools and +appliances to ensure absolute cleanliness can be a god of +mercy and confer health and power on many a stricken +man. A blundering, incompetent amateur, lacking the +divine essence of knowing his own imperfections and +courageously taking responsibilities which are sky-high +above him, can inflict a lifelong wrong and deprive +a man of his power to earn his livelihood in the future. +The cautious and conservative surgeon is ever the +boldest when boldness means success. In every Field +Ambulance in this war and in future wars, let us see +to it that we have a cautious and conservative surgeon.</p> + +<p>The medical officer is not as a rule a good horse +master. From my experience (and I am speaking +both from what I saw in the South African War and +in this war), the medical officer is a very indifferent +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_127">[127]</span>horse master. He will do his best, as he always does +in all circumstances; but it is clearly unfair to ask a +doctor, who knows as much about horses as a monk +does about antelopes, to take charge of a unit comprising +about one hundred horses, sixteen four-horsed +waggons, and seven or eight two-horsed carts, Army +Service Corps drivers, and a miscellaneous lot of grooms. +I have seen an amiable and competent Army Medical +officer dismayed when he was compelled, owing to +some duty, to get on a horse’s back, and the horse +seemed to know and enjoy it, for, usually a docile, +mild-eyed beast, he at these times became exceedingly +sportive. Yet this officer may have, owing to his rank, +to assume charge later of a hundred horses and a lot +of waggons. A shoemaker should stick to his last, +and a doctor is only at home with his own professional +work.</p> + +<p>The remedy is to put Field Ambulances under +trained officers of the Army Service Corps. They are +experts in the management of convoys and transports, +and could manage the field work of an ambulance to +the infinite satisfaction of everybody. Leave the +doctors to the purely professional work. There is +enough of that to be done. Doctors are too valuable +as doctors to spare them for work which A.S.C. subalterns +and young captains can perform. The arranging +of advanced dressing stations, the choosing +of buildings as hospital sites, can be done by the A.D.M.S. +of the division, and the purely workman’s part of the +job can be done by the A.S.C. officer and his men.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_128">[128]</span></p> + +<p>The transportation of wounded from the fighting +line has been extraordinarily well carried out by the +Royal Army Medical Corps and the Red Cross since +our army took up its present fighting line in France and +Flanders. During the great retreat the transportation +was ineffective, and there is no doubt at all that many +of our wounded who had to be left behind could have +been rescued if we had had motor ambulance convoys +as we have to-day.</p> + +<p>On the Marne, and for the first week on the Aisne, the +transport of the wounded to the base was most imperfect. +Who is to blame for this is a matter that will +have to be thrashed out when the piping days of peace +arrive, and we have time once again to put our house +in order and profit by the lessons of the war. The only +means of transport previous to the arrival of the +motor ambulances was by transport lorries belonging +to the Army Service Corps. These waggons brought +provisions and supplies to the front, and on returning +empty had to call at the various ambulance stations. +Straw was laid on the floors of these lorries, and the +wounded were packed tightly on the straw. This +method of transportation for a man suffering from +pneumonia or compound fracture, a chest wound or a +wound in the abdomen, was a terrible ordeal, and undoubtedly +added intense suffering, misery, and discomfort +to our badly stricken soldiers. Things improved +directly on the advent of the comfortable, +well-sprung motor ambulance. From the firing line +to the horsed or motor ambulance the man is carried +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_129">[129]</span>on a stretcher by hand, but all future transportation is +by motor ambulance, train, river-barge, and steamer.</p> + +<p>When a man is wounded at the front he is brought +in by regimental bearers to the dressing station of the +medical officer of the battalion. This is generally either +a “dug-out” or is situated in a cottage a little way back +or sometimes behind a stone wall or near a clump of +trees. Here the regimental doctor simply dresses the +wound, as cleanly as possible under the circumstances, +stops all bleeding and applies rough splints to fractured +limbs, and administers morphia if there is much pain. +These regimental aid posts are dangerous places well +within shell fire, and the wounded are got out of them +as quickly as possible, and generally at night. They +are carried on stretchers to the ambulance waggons—horse +or motor—which are drawn up on some point +of a road, or sometimes in a village farther back. From +here the wounded man is conveyed to the headquarters +of the ambulance in a village or château or church, +and his wounds are again dressed, if necessary, but as +little handling as possible is done, although the soldier +thinks that his wounds should be frequently dressed. +At the ambulance headquarters urgent operations, often +of a serious character, have sometimes to be carried +out, but no operation is done if the case will permit of +safe transportation farther back. The next rest-house +for the wounded man is the Clearing Hospital or Casualty +Clearing Station, and through this pass the wounded of +many ambulances. Many wounded are brought direct +from the trenches to a Casualty Clearing Hospital without +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_130">[130]</span>calling at all at the ambulance headquarters. +All urgent operations are performed at the Casualty +Clearing Station, and this station should be thoroughly +well equipped in staff and <i>personnel</i> as well as with all +the modern appurtenances so necessary for the safe +performance of intricate and dangerous surgical +operations.</p> + +<p>For obvious reasons the Clearing Hospital or +Casualty Clearing Station could not fulfil its destiny +during the retreat of our army from Belgium to the +east of Paris. If the army is retreating, the Clearing +Hospital must go. It is part of the line of communications +and would impede and cumber the fighting +divisions as they fall back. If full of wounded at this +time, it would of course be captured by the advancing +enemy, as the Clearing Hospital has no transport of its +own, and depends on the regular transport department +of the army. There ought to be a transport attached +to a Clearing Hospital and solely under the control of +the commanding officer, and it would be of great +advantage to have the whole Clearing Hospital under +the command of an Army Service Corps officer of +experience, a man accustomed to the transportation +of supplies and to commanding drivers of vehicles +and mechanics. To put a Clearing Hospital under the +command of a doctor as is now done is as absurd as it +would be to place a large civil hospital under the +control of a doctor.</p> + +<p>Our civil hospitals are governed by Boards and a +Secretary who has the whole administration at his +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_131">[131]</span>finger-ends. The medical staff do not control or govern +a civil hospital. They are busy enough in their own +sphere, which is a purely professional one—the treatment +and cure of the sick inmates. So with the Clearing +Hospitals, the Army Service Corps officer should be +in charge of the hospital, and the purely professional +part of the hospital, the treatment of the wounded, +should be entirely and absolutely under the control +of the medical staff, and completely outside the range +of action of the administrative chief. The evacuation +of the wounded from the Clearing Hospital to the +hospital train and Base could be controlled also by the +administrative lay head of the hospital, and all that +the medical officers would be concerned with would be +the cases suitable to evacuate and when they should +be evacuated. There would at first be considerable +opposition to this course by the regular Army Medical +Corps, but they could not advance any cogent arguments +against the devolution of administrative authority +from them to the Army Service Corps.</p> + +<p>The Royal Army Medical Corps is, or should be, +a professional body of men. Anything that impairs +their professional efficiency is bad. The control of +Field Ambulances and Clearing Hospitals is not a +professional man’s <i>métier</i>, and he does not shine in this +position. Too much military control or command +changes the army medical officer from a doctor to a +military officer, and this change is not to be desired.</p> + +<p>In civil life the more experienced a doctor is, the +bigger becomes his practice and the wider becomes +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_132">[132]</span>his sphere of professional usefulness. In military life, +experience means promotion to higher rank, and the +higher the rank the less the professional work and the +more the administrative work.</p> + +<p>In war time, as witness South Africa and this present +war, civil surgeons have to be called in large numbers +to undertake important surgical work. The experience +of medical officers of the army in peace is professionally +a poor one. They are rarely called upon to perform +serious surgical operations, for a man requiring an +important surgical operation is no longer of use as a +soldier, and is invalided out of the army. This man +then necessarily comes under the civilian surgeon, who +sets about to cure him, if possible, of his affliction. An +urgent appendix operation, a rupture, the removal of a +loose cartilage in a knee joint and varicose veins in their +various manifestations—these, roughly speaking, compose +the experience in surgery of the army doctor in +times of peace.</p> + +<p>In advanced and intricate surgery in the abdomen +he gets no practice, and yet it is just the experience +gained in this branch of surgery that is so vitally +important to surgeons at the front to-day.</p> + +<p>A surgeon at the front should be a man of ripe +judgment and a good operator. He should know when +to operate, and what is equally important, when not to +operate. He should know whether a wounded man +should be operated upon at once without exposing +him to the risk of further transportation, or whether he +could be transported to a Base Hospital without endangering +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_133">[133]</span>his safety. And if the case demands immediate +surgery at the front, this surgeon should be +able to undertake the operation himself. Surgeons of +approved judgment and skill are not hard to find, and +every Base Hospital, every stationary Hospital, every +Casualty Clearing Hospital, every Field Ambulance +should have one officer on its staff possessing the +qualities and attributes mentioned. And such a distribution +is the easiest thing in the world to effect.</p> + +<p>These men can be drawn from the civil side of the +profession, as the military side, the Royal Army Medical +Corps proper, cannot provide them.</p> + +<p>There are of course able surgeons in the Royal +Army Medical Corps, men who, were they in civil +life, would have large consulting practices and great +reputations, but these men are few and are of that +surgical bent which will rise superior to its military +environment, and keeping touch with modern work, +will absorb all that is good and new in the methods and +technique of surgery.</p> + +<p>This lack of appreciation of the requirements of +modern surgery has been evidenced in so many instances +at the front with our Field Ambulance and Clearing +Hospital equipment.</p> + +<p>One day early in the war I had a number of wounded +men to treat, all with dirty septic wounds. The method +of sterilising our hands was inefficient and I asked for +rubber gloves. Rubber gloves for the hands of the +surgeon are absolutely essential when dealing with a +number of septic cases. After handling septic cases +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_134">[134]</span>he may be called upon at any moment to operate on +a case requiring the strictest antisepsis or asepsis to +give the wounded man a fighting chance of life. I asked +a senior medical officer of the ambulance for these +rubber gloves. Judge of my consternation and amazement +when he said that “There were no rubber gloves +in the ambulance equipment, and <i>he did not believe +in the necessity for rubber gloves</i>.” When the ambulance +was being equipped previous to leaving this country +at the outbreak of war he could have obtained as many +pairs of rubber gloves as he wished, but because he did +not think them necessary, they were not obtained. He +did not realise what war surgery would be like and had +not been accustomed to operate on a large scale. This +blunder on his part was inexcusable and serious, and +the one who suffered from such a blunder was not himself +but a wounded officer or man.</p> + +<p>In a Clearing Hospital in a small town in France +to which I was temporarily attached for some days, +again I could not obtain rubber gloves, although I +had there to operate on profoundly septic cases, on the +cases of appalling gas gangrene and also on recent +wounds of knee joints, of brain, and abdomen. I +asked for rubber gloves and was promised them. None +came. On my own initiative I wrote to a London +surgical supply establishment and obtained three dozen +pairs of rubber gloves by return mail.</p> + +<p>Was this fair to our wounded?</p> + +<p>At another time I had a difficult bowel operation +to do, and the only fine needles in stock could not be +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_135">[135]</span>used as the finest silk available there would not go +through the eyes of the needles. The examination of +the silk and the needles had not been carried out when +the equipment was being put together in England. At +this same place I had nothing strong enough to ligature +blood-vessels at the bottom of deep septic wounds, +except silk. The catgut was too fine and brittle to hold +a big blood-vessel, yet any surgeon will tell you that to +put a silk ligature on a vessel in a foul wound is very +bad surgical technique. Yet it had to be done. Again, +in a dangerous operation on the knee joint I could not +get any sterilised towels nor an aneurism needle nor a +pair of scissors. The only scissors had been lost, and +only one aneurism needle, which had also been lost, +was supplied in the instrument case. The patient was +an officer who had been struck by shrapnel at the back +of the knee, on the shoulder, and on one foot and one +hand. He bled smartly and was admitted to this +Clearing Hospital with a tourniquet round his thigh to +control the bleeding temporarily. I opened up the +wound behind the knee and secured the large bleeding +artery and veins there, and all I had to ligature these +vessels with was silk. There was no stout catgut, as +there ought to have been. Also I could only get two +sterilised towels, and these I had to boil myself. This +was in a Clearing Hospital at the front in November +last year. There were no gloves. There were none of +the things round one to treat shock from which the +officer suffered after the operation. It made one +despair. Yet all of these things should have been at +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_136">[136]</span>hand, and could have been easily obtained by the +exercise of some forethought. No wonder the wounds +in so many cases were at this time sent back to England +in such a foul and septic condition. It was not the +military authorities who were to blame. The military +chiefs did all they could to help the medical department +and always have done so. The fault lay at the +door of the Royal Army Medical Corps chiefs, and after +the war these things will again be reviewed in order to +prevent a future repetition.</p> + +<p>My criticism is meant entirely for the good of our +wounded officers and men. They deserve the best, and +it is the duty of the Army Medical Department to give +them of the best. It is only by pointing out defects +that improvement can follow, and the only man who +can point out these medical defects is a surgeon who has +actually had to operate on wounded men in a Field +Ambulance or in a Clearing Hospital under adverse +surroundings.</p> + +<p>It is an easy matter to arrange for a modern surgical +equipment for a Field Ambulance or a Clearing Hospital. +Sterilisers for instruments and towels and dressings are +not cumbrous appliances and do not take up much +space. The surgical instrument case at present in use +by the Royal Army Medical Corps is out of date and +requires a complete revision and overhaul by a surgeon +who is accustomed to operate, and not by a committee +of senior or retired officers of the Army Medical Staff. +The younger officers of the Royal Army Medical Corps +and the “professional” men amongst the seniors +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_137">[137]</span>recognise the defects of the present system, but naturally +they cannot say much. This lack of medical +equipment and the “unreasonableness” of the medical +department is a common subject of conversation at the +front amongst civilian medical officers, and I have seen +some of these men indignant beyond measure at what +they have seen and met with.</p> + +<p>The Clearing Hospital, in addition to being a “rest-house” +on the <i>via dolorosa</i> of the wounded, is also a +sieve. It has to sift the lightly wounded from the +seriously wounded and the serious cases from the +desperate cases. In this process of sifting a large collection +of wounded men, it discriminates between those +who are fit to be sent to the Base and those who must +remain for a longer or a shorter period. Many claim +that the Clearing Hospital is not a hospital <i>per se</i> but +holds a purely administrative position. I feel sure that +it will become more and more a hospital as time goes +on, and that its present surgical and medical equipment +will necessarily undergo a complete reorganisation. +To-day its equipment is little more than that +of a Field Ambulance. It is not equipped to deal with +extensive and serious operations, and yet serious operations +have been performed and will necessarily continue +to be performed at the Clearing Hospital.</p> + +<p>There is no shadow of doubt that many of the men +operated upon at Bethune in the Hôpital Civil et Militaire +later on in the war owe their recovery in a very +large measure to the excellence of the complete sterilising +equipment and cleanly surroundings. No trouble +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_138">[138]</span>can be too great and no expense should be spared to +make the surgical stations at the front up to date in +all that makes for surgical cleanliness.</p> + +<p>It is even more necessary to have the skilled surgeon +at the front than at the Base, but we have any amount +of skilled surgeons for both places. A skilled operating +man of experience should not be attached to a regiment +as regimental surgeon while a recently qualified man is +deputed to blood his ’prentice hand at a major operation +in a Clearing Hospital. Yet this has been done, and I +know of an instance where a recently qualified man performed +his first trephining operation on a soldier with +a bad head injury whilst a few miles away there +was an experienced operator engaged solely in first-aid +work as regimental surgeon.</p> + +<p>I was told by a senior officer of the R.A.M.C. +that in the city of X—— before the war he had as +assistant in his military operating room a very clever +young R.A.M.C. orderly. This man was well trained +in the sterilisation of instruments and dressings and +in the preparation of a room for operations. When the +ambulance was mobilised in this city on the outbreak +of war the medical officer applied for this man, who +would have been invaluable, to be appointed to the +tent section of the Field Ambulance. Here the training +and knowledge of this orderly would have been of +great service. Instead of that, the man was appointed +to look after the water waggon of an infantry regiment +and was killed early in the war. Any untrained man +would have done for the water cart, but a lot of training +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_139">[139]</span>is necessary to make a good hospital room +assistant.</p> + +<p>At the Clearing Hospital the wounded man meets +for the first time the Army Nurse. This is the nearest +point to the firing line that our nurses are allowed to go, +but I know lots of them who are extremely anxious to +go into the trenches. The nurse is a welcome sight to +both officers and men, and no man nurse can adequately +take the place of a trained woman. The presence of +nursing sisters in a hospital is good and wholesome, and +where they are the hospital work is carried on infinitely +better and the patient is well looked after. R.A.M.C. +orderlies do not like our nursing sisters. The sister +makes the orderly work, will not allow him to smoke +in the wards, makes him wash his hands and keep tidy. +To the slacker, of course, these things are highly unpalatable, +and there are many slackers about. Our +British nursing sisters are splendid women, and work +ungrudgingly and sympathetically always. It is good +to see a bright-faced, white-aproned nurse amongst the +wounded, and she is extraordinarily popular with her +patients.</p> + +<p>The hospital train in France is a well-run unit. The +accommodation for the sick and wounded is excellent, +trained nurses accompany each train, and the medical +arrangements are controlled by three doctors, generally +a regular army medical officer in charge and with two +temporary lieutenants or civil surgeons to assist him +to do the actual professional work. No surgical or +medical work worth mentioning is done on hospital +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_140">[140]</span>trains; they are simply means to an end—the end is +the Base Hospital.</p> + +<p>The Base Hospitals in France are well-run units also. +There are here big medical and nursing staffs, a large +number of orderlies, and any amount of equipment. +I was for some time Surgical Specialist at No. 6 General +Hospital at Rouen, and this hospital was splendidly +administered by the commanding officer, Lieutenant-Colonel +——. In the Base Hospitals there are good +operating rooms, and in fact every modern appliance +that one could desire. It is a pity that the same care +in administration and equipment had not been carried +farther up and nearer our soldiers at the front.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_141">[141]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIII">CHAPTER XIII.<br> +<span class="smaller">GOOD-BYE TO THE AISNE.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>Early in October, and at night, the Ambulance again +took the road—we turned our back on the Aisne and with +the 2nd Army Corps began the famous move across +the French lines of communication to the Belgian +frontier and into Flanders. This change of position +will be written up in the future as one of the most +masterly episodes of the war. It was a formidable +task to move the British Army and its supplies across +the French lines and bring them into an entirely new +position on the front. It had to be carried out with +the utmost secrecy. None of us knew where we were +going. Each day the secret orders were issued and the +various brigades and columns carried out the indicated +programme, while the French took up our positions +and trenches as we retired from them. This was done +also with great secrecy. I can imagine the perturbation +of the Saxons and Wurtemburgers on our front on +seeing French <i>képis</i> and uniforms where for weeks they +had seen the khaki. The 2nd Corps moved off first. +The 1st Corps left a week later.</p> + +<p>On the first night we marched through Nampteuil +and reached Droszy about midnight. It was a beautiful +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_142">[142]</span>starlight night with a biting frost. We billeted in a +spacious château, with plenty of cover for the ambulance +waggons and with stables for the horses. The men slept +in stable lofts and the officers on the floor of the marble +hall. The hall was a beautiful room, containing some +valuable old furniture. The walls were covered with +relics of the chase of the days of Louis <span class="allsmcap">XIV.</span>, and old +hunting horns, knives, and boar spears. Part of the +château was modern, and part consisting of a wonderful +old tower, loopholed for arrows, was evidently all that +was left of the keep of a strong feudal castle. The +proprietor was an old rear-admiral of the French Navy +and he received us with the greatest courtesy; the +Norfolks arrived an hour after us and quartered in +a big house and yard close by. Our brigadier, Count +Gleichen, arrived early in the morning and slept in our +château.</p> + +<p>A Taube was seen approaching in the morning and +every one was ordered to get under cover or stand stock-still. +This Taube was evidently trying to find out +the reason for the absence of British in the old trenches +and the presence of the French in their place. We +surmised correctly that the Teutonic curiosity was +considerably aroused. A few hours afterwards another +Taube appeared—or it may have been our first visitor—and +flying very fast, for a French airman was in hot +pursuit. Both soon disappeared into the upper blue, +but we laid our odds on the Frenchman.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus13" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus13.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption> + <p><span class="smcap">Château of Longpont.</span></p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus14" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus14.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption> + <p><span class="smcap">Village of Longpont.</span></p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>At 6.30 that night we again got under way and had +a magnificent night march to Longpont, arriving there at +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_143">[143]</span>10.30 p.m. Longpont is a wonderful old place. The +Château Longpont dates back to very early times +and contains some marvellous old tapestry. It is the +home of the Comte and Comtesse M——, and they +were in residence at this time and entertained as +their guests on this day General Sir Charles Ferguson +and his staff. Sir Charles was the Commander of the +5th Division of the 2nd Army Corps. The Comte and +Comtesse had as guests, some weeks previously, General +von Kluck, Commander of the right wing of the German +Army, and had some interesting anecdotes to tell of this +hard-fighting General and his staff.</p> + +<p>Abutting on the château were the famous ruins of +the abbey of Longpont. The remains of the old +abbey are so historic that they are known in France as +“Les Ruines.” It was built by the Cistercian monks +in the twelfth century, and in the adjoining priory over +three hundred monks were accommodated in the days +when the Church was omnipotent in France. During +the Reign of Terror the beautiful old abbey was +destroyed by the revolutionaries, but the massive +character of the pillars and walls proved too much +even for these iconoclasts, and stand to-day, clothed +in ivy and moss, the monuments of a glorious past. +The venerable and stately majesty of these ruins, where +every stone seemed to speak of the grandeur of other +days, impressed the imagination of all who gazed upon +them.</p> + +<p>The day following our arrival at Longpont was a +Sunday. Divine service was conducted at 10 a.m. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_144">[144]</span>round the old broken altar by our Church of England +chaplain, and Sir Charles Ferguson, the Divisional +General, read the lessons. Monsignor conducted the +Catholic service at 11.30. Both services were largely +attended by our own men and by French soldiers +occupying the village. In imagination one could see +the princely abbots and the cowled monks who, during +a period of six hundred years, had chanted their +litanies and passed in procession inside the beautiful +abbey, gazing wonderingly at the simple military +services held round the tumbled masonry of the ancient +altar.</p> + +<p>After the services we spent the day wandering +through the old-fashioned village of Longpont, examining +its ancient gateways adorned with the crests of the +kings of France, or strolling through the fine woods +bordering the lake. Heavy artillery fire from the +French batteries could be heard all the day. We +were now right behind the French lines.</p> + +<p>I cannot pass from Longpont without describing +our sleeping quarters on the night of our arrival. The +officers of the ambulance had to sleep on the straw +of an old stone stable. The stable looked comfortable +and inviting, and it was not till we had crawled into +our valises that the “fun” commenced. We had just +lain down and blown out the candles when we felt +curious obscure movements under our valises. Then +a rustling of straw and a scampering of some objects +over our beds. One doctor at once yelled out, “Good +Lord, the place is full of rats.” He turned on his +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_145">[145]</span>electric torch and immediately there was a wild scurry +and stampede to cover of hundreds of rats. The torch +was turned off, and after a little while the scampering +and squeaking started again. The rats were either +enjoying a game or were upset by our occupation of +their stable. At one end of the stable was a feeding +trough, and sitting in a row on the edge of the trough +were innumerable rats. Conspicuous amongst them +was one enormous fellow, about the size of a cat—some +one said he was as big as a calf—with huge grey +moustaches and very knowing eyes. This was undoubtedly +the leader. We christened him Von Hindenberg. +Somebody threw a bottle at him, but the cunning +old rascal dodged it by making a tremendous leap +into the middle of the stable and disappeared. One +young doctor then said that he would rather sleep out +in the open than amongst the rats, and he carried +his valise outside. The rest of us decided to stop where +we were, but we all pulled our blankets well over our +heads. Our childhood horror of rats still remained, +and we were just a little bit afraid of them—especially +of Von Hindenberg.</p> + +<p>From Longpont we had a hard gruelling march of +fifteen to eighteen miles through the night, and arrived +at Lieux Ristaures at 6 a.m. We were stopped a +long time on the road at the little village of Corcy by +hundreds of motor vans, waggons, and buses containing +French troops. We realised on this night what +“crossing a line of communication” actually means. +The French were hurrying up heavy reinforcements to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_146">[146]</span>strengthen a part of their front which at that moment +was withstanding a most resolute German attack, our +Brigade was moving as quickly as possible to another +point of the front. The roads of the two armies crossed +at Corcy, and of course one had to wait till the way +was clear. It all looked very confusing and chaotic, +but it was really very cleverly managed. Our road +at first led through a forest, and anyone who knows +the forests of France knows the beauty and charm of +the tall trees. Little could be seen, however; high +overhead one could make out a few stars, but the track +itself was in Cimmerian darkness. About 2 a.m. we +reached Villars Cotterets and marched through the old +cobbled streets without a pause. This old town looked +interesting, and one would have liked to have explored +the birthplace of Dumas. After Villars Cotterets our +road lay through more open country and a grey dawn +made things clearer. We were all dog-tired with the +long march and the constant halts; marching at night +was more monotonous and fatiguing than day marching.</p> + +<p>On the way from Villars Cotterets to our next +bivouac, Lieux Ristaures, at night time, when we were +all feeling very done up, a most surprising rumour +reached us. Far ahead on the long column we +suddenly heard distant cheering which grew in intensity +as it travelled quickly down to us preceded by a +message shouted from one to another, “The Kaiser is +dead. Killed yesterday morning. Pass it on.” When +the message reached us we laughed, and did not pass +it on. Cries came out of the darkness in front, “Pass +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_147">[147]</span>the message on. It’s official. The Kaiser’s dead.” +So we passed it on, and the cheering travelled back +across country to the marching men far behind. It +cheered the men up wonderfully; they were delighted. +It of course turned out to be a fake, cleverly engineered +by some wags at the head of the column. Of rumours +there was no end. The Crown Prince had been buried +in Flanders, in the Argonne, at Soissons. But he +always got out of his grave. We buried Von Kluck, +Hindenburg, and Bulow, and each burial was related +with a wealth of detail that left nothing to the imagination. +The most accepted rumour of all, and one which +is still believed by many, was the harrowing story of the +Prince with the velvet mask. This story had a distinctly +Dumas flavour, and it had a great vogue. It +was related to me first on the Aisne by a doctor in a +Scottish regiment, who had had it from the Colonel, who +had received it from somebody higher up. I, of course, +passed it on lower down the social scale, and our +Division knew it that afternoon. The Crown Prince at +this time was said to be living in a richly furnished +cave opposite Reims. On dull days he would sit on a +chair outside and order the shelling of Reims Cathedral, +while he gazed through a powerful glass at the falling +masonry. One day the Prussian Nero was missing +from his cave, and the story then shifts to Strasburg, +whither in the dead of night a wounded officer of +apparently august rank was conveyed in a motor-car. +Two powerful Limousines accompanied this car, one +before and one behind, and these were full of highly +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_148">[148]</span>placed army officers. A special train with steam up +was awaiting the arrival of the cars, and as the wounded +officer was carried across the platform on a stretcher, +closely surrounded by Generals, it was noticed that +a velvet mask covered his face. The mask fell off +as the body was lifted into the train and the Crown +Prince’s face was exposed to view. I believe that this +story was afterwards circulated in the French press. +We certainly did not hear of His Imperial Highness for +many months afterwards.</p> + +<p>Another rumour circumstantially related by a +field chaplain and duly passed on with the <i>imprimatur</i> +of the Church, was that Prince Albrecht of Prussia, +son of the War Lord himself, had been wounded and +taken prisoner into Antwerp by the Belgians. He +was operated upon by Belgian surgeons in the presence +of two German medical officers, and a bullet was extracted +from his spine. The bullet was a Mauser—a +German one. The Prince died and his body was +handed back to the Germans.</p> + +<p>On the way to our next bivouac we also heard that +Arras was being bombarded by the Germans and that +they were investing Antwerp. We had quite a lot of +war news to discuss for the remainder of our road, and +until we pulled our waggons under the trees round an +old mill at Lieux Ristaures. The men were billeted +in out-houses and wood sheds belonging to the mill, and +the officers were cordially welcomed by the hospitable +miller and his kind-hearted womenfolk. They prepared +coffee, bread and butter, and eggs for us, and we had the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_149">[149]</span>use of two bedrooms and a small office. A rapid mill +race ran through the garden and under the kitchen +floor of the house to the orchard beyond. When the +miller’s wife wanted fresh water, all she had to do was +to lift up a trap on the kitchen floor and dip the bucket +into the tumbling water below. Lieux Ristaures has +a fine old ruined church all to itself, but it is disfigured +by some modern attempts to restore it to its ancient +grandeur, and these attempts have spoiled completely +the beauty of the ruins. At Lieux I received my first +mail since leaving England. It was now October, +and I had left England in August. This will give an +idea of the marvellous work of our Army Post Office, +but as no department has received such abuse as this +one, I will spare its feelings and say no more.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus15" style="max-width: 43.75em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus15.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption> + <p><span class="smcap">On the road to Compiègne.</span></p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>A fine contingent of French cavalry passed by +on this day. The men and horses looked splendid. +The brass helmets, plumes, and cuirasses caught the +sun’s rays, and we described the passing as a “gorgeous +cavalcade.” The helmets and cuirasses, however, seem +to belong to old-world armies, and look stagey amongst +the simpler uniforms of this age.</p> + +<p>We stopped two nights at the quaint old farm of +Lieux with its rushing mill race, and at three o’clock +on the second day marched to Bethisy St. Martin, where +we had an excellent tea at a cosy house in the town—butter, +eggs, bread, cold beef, and pickles. We sat +round a table with a tablecloth! our first since +August. The good woman who prepared the meal +made us very welcome. We slept on the floor of the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_150">[150]</span><i>Mairie</i> in the centre of the town till 5 a.m., when we +again took the road to Santines and Verberie, passing +near Senlis. Verberie showed many evidences of the +Prussian sign manual—shelled houses and smashed +walls. We reached the river Oise at 10 a.m. and +crossed by a pontoon bridge, as the fine old stone bridge +had been blown up; marched through Rivecourt and +bivouacked for three hours by the wayside. It was a +glorious morning, the going was good, and everybody +was cheerful and looked very hard and fit. At Halte +de Meux, where was a railway siding with troop trains, +we received orders to embark on one of the trains for a +destination unknown.</p> + +<p>The train by which we were to travel had to carry +the Norfolk Regiment also. When the Norfolks were +all on board we found that there was not room enough +left for the Field Ambulance, with its ambulance +waggons, supply waggons, horses, and men. C section, +with its waggons and equipment, had to be left +behind, and get on as best it could by some other train; +so we of C section took the road to Compiègne. +We reached this charming and historic city in the dark, +and found that there was no train for us. We crossed +the Oise again on a bridge of moored barges, as the +magnificent stone bridge spanning the Oise here was +in ruins, destroyed by the French during the German +advance. The night was desperately cold; we slept, +or tried to sleep, on the boulevard alongside the river +bank, but had to get up and march about to keep up +the circulation. The men lit a fire under the trees of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_151">[151]</span>the boulevard and sat round it all night. There was +no reason really why we should have slept out on the +open boulevard, for there was a large, half-empty +infantry barracks about 20 yards away and the French +offered us the use of it for the night. Our commanding +officer, however, decided otherwise, and consequently +we passed a most miserable night.</p> + +<p>Compiègne, situated on the Oise, is one of the most +charming and fascinating cities in France. In the +palace, Napoleon Bonaparte and the Empress Marie +Louise, Louis Philippe, and Napoleon III. frequently +resided. The tower where Joan of Arc was imprisoned, +the sixteenth-century Hôtel de Ville with its belfry +tower, and the old church of St. Jacques well repay a +visit. The city appeared on the surface to be leading +a normal life except for the large number of French +soldiers and the many Red Cross Hospitals. Compiègne +was at this time a favourite afternoon call for the +Taubes, and they frequently dropped bombs, meant no +doubt for the old palace. Old historic châteaux, +cathedrals, and churches have a strange fascination for +German artillerists and bomb-droppers.</p> + +<p>I must now relate an episode of some interest that +occurred on the march up to Compiègne—nothing +less than seeing General Joffre, the Commander-in-Chief +of the Allied Armies. I had dropped behind from my +ambulance, and had given my horse to my groom to +lead behind my section on the march. A marching +regiment was coming up behind us, and as I knew the +doctor I waited till the regiment came up, and then +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_152">[152]</span>joined in and walked alongside my medical friend. +A large château was situated on the side of the road +some distance on, and as we came up we saw a large +group of French officers standing at the old gateway. +A whisper travelled rapidly down the line that this +was the French Headquarters Staff and that Joffre +himself was there. At once the subalterns “tightened +up” the marching men, heads were lifted, shoulders +squared, the step became smarter and rhythmic. Low +muttered commands snapped out: “Smartly there,” +“By your right,” “Keep your distance, men.” As we +came abreast of the group at the gateway, the sharp, +clear command rang out from each platoon officer, +“Eyes right!” the officers saluted smartly, and with a +parade swing the fine regiment marched past. I gazed +long and interestedly at the officer at the gateway who +took our salute. He was easily distinguishable as +Joffre, for he was exactly like the pictures seen of him +in every shop window in France, or rather the pictures +were faithful representations of Joffre. When I got +past, I stepped out of the company I was marching with +on to the far side of the road, and while the remainder +of the regiment was still passing by I had a good long +look at the man who means so much to France, and in +whom France is so sublimely confident. He was +dressed in a well-fitting but easy blue tunic, with stars +on the sleeves near the cuff indicating his rank of +General, and with a gold band on the shoulders, the +familiar red French trousers, and black polished cavalry +jack-boots. On his head he had a gold-braided <i>képi</i>. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_153">[153]</span>Joffre is of middle height, strong and sturdily made, +broad-shouldered and with a figure stout and heavy. +His face is full, genial, and attractive, browned like the +faces of men who have lived and worked in the tropics, +and with a white moustache which gave a somewhat +benevolent air. He was evidently interested in the +march past of our regiment, for he walked three or four +paces forward from his staff and towards us, and seemed +to take in all the details of men and equipment as his +eye scanned up and down. His salute was given with +the careful exactness and ceremony always bestowed +by the French upon this act, which the British officer +goes through so casually.</p> + +<p>Joffre did not look the dazzling military leader +of romance, but he looked very business-like. Here +was not the lean figure and the hawk nose of a +Wellington, the glittering swagger of a Murat, or the +inscrutable pose of the little Grey Man of Destiny. +Yet this broad, homely, comfortable, and democratic +figure standing by the roadside and carefully observing +us, is the most powerful man in France to-day—the +man against whom no political criticism is levelled, +the idol of the soldiers, and in whom the people of +France have such a simple faith. He is called “Our +Joffre,” and the possessive phrase indicates the pride +the people and army feel in him. The French will +tell the following story, which has gone the rounds, +with great gusto. After a big battle in Poland, Von +Hindenberg’s Chief of Staff contracted a “political +illness” and was sent to Berlin to recover his health. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_154">[154]</span>The Kaiser wired to Hindenberg, “Whom do you +nominate for your new Chief of Staff?” The reply +came back, “Would like Joffre.”</p> + +<p>French officers at the front will tell you that Joffre +is an Aristides the Just; that he ordered the shooting +of four French Generals early in the war because they +were traitors to France, and that he has “retired” +all the old Generals who are slow to think and too fond +of cocktails to be good campaigners; that he speedily +rewards ability and initiative by promotions on the +field, and is merciless on an officer—no matter of what +rank—who shows incompetence.</p> + +<p>Joffre was met early in the War of the Trenches +by an old friend, who greeted him with, “Well, how are +things going?” The General’s eyes twinkled humorously +as he replied, “Laissez-moi faire, je les grignotte” +(“Leave me alone, I am nibbling them”). A French +surgeon who knows Joffre, told me that he is a good +sleeper, and that during the worst days he never missed +one night’s sleep. It was Shakespeare’s Cæsar who +said, I think, to Mark Antony:</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“Let me have men about me that are fat,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Sleek-headed men and such as sleep o’ nights.”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>Joffre has never interested himself in politics, and +he is one of the few great Frenchmen who have avoided +the glamour of the political stage on which so many +ephemeral reputations have been made and so many +good ones blasted. Joffre, like most men who “do” +things, is a silent man. I am glad that I have seen +“Joffre <i>le taciturne</i>,” and been privileged to salute him.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_155">[155]</span></p> + +<p>Joffre and French are both over sixty years of age. +Pau, the one-armed French General, known as the +“Thruster,” is a veteran of the War of 1870. Gallieni, +the “rock of Paris,” the General destined to hold Paris +when Von Kluck was bearing so hastily down on the +capital, is an old man. Von Hindenberg, the pride of +Germany, is sixty-seven. Von Kluck, the Commander +of the right wing of the German Army, who so furiously +hacked his way almost to the gates of Paris, and was +rolled back in a crushing defeat, is over seventy years +of age. Napoleon and Wellington were forty-six at +Waterloo. Nelson died at forty-seven. Ney was +thirty-five when he was shot. Von Roon, the German +Minister of War in the Franco-Prussian War, was +sixty-seven when the campaign began. Bismarck was +then about fifty-five, and Von Moltke was an old man—a +septuagenarian. Are we too old at forty? No. I +knew a chaplain at the front who was fifty-eight years +of age. In times of peace he took very little physical +exercise; he was a student, a scholar, and an author. +I have seen this chaplain march mile after mile in rain +and mud, and under a broiling sun on dusty roads, and +he was then fitter than he ever had been before, and +could eat bully beef and hard biscuits like the hungriest +youngster. He had the face and eyes and voice of a +young man, and he laughed like a merry boy.</p> + +<p>We left Compiègne at 3 p.m.; our horses and +waggons were entrained and officers and men got into +an old and evil-looking “100th” class carriage and +again set off for a destination unknown. No one +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_156">[156]</span>seemed to know where we were off to, but the entraining +and route were really well carried out by the staff of +the railway. At Amiens we received orders to get off +at Abbeville, and after a tiring journey we reached +the mouth of the Somme at 2 a.m. The waggons and +horses were quickly taken out, and in the dark we +trekked through Abbeville across open country to +Gapennes, nine miles away. Here we met the 13th +Field Ambulance, temporarily quartered in a most +luxurious château. Our little party was dead beat +for want of sleep, and some of us lay down on the floor +of the village schoolhouse and slept heavily for three +hours. The school was not “in” that day, otherwise +I am sure the children would have been highly entertained +to see three weary doctors in khaki soundly +slumbering on the floor.</p> + +<p>Still sleepy, we again had to take the road and tramp +the weary miles. A large number of French ambulances +passed us going back to Abbeville, and we heard that +there had been some very hard fighting on the French +left wing.</p> + +<p>The 13th British Infantry Brigade caught up with +us, and we pulled aside to let them pass. The officers +told us that they were in a hurry—that the French +had moved up a lot of troops to the south of Lille and +that the whole British Army was to form up on the left +of the French, and that terrific fighting was going on +round Lille and Arras, and French and German cavalry +screens had met farther west.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus16" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus16.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption> + <p><span class="smcap">Compiègne, showing the broken bridge.</span></p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus17" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus17.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption> + <p><span class="smcap">Ambulance crossing the Oise on a Pontoon bridge.</span></p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>At 5 p.m. we found the headquarters of our ambulance +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_157">[157]</span>located in a pig-sty of a farmhouse and were +told that it was to move off shortly and march through +the night. All the romance of night marching had gone +for us, and we wanted to sleep. We were tired of walking, +tired of everything, tired of the war, and vaguely +wondered why we had been so foolish as to leave +England.</p> + +<p>So at nine o’clock on the same evening off we marched +again into the outer darkness of a depressing, gloomy +night, and we were on our feet through the whole of it. +Most of the time we were standing by the roadside +waiting for the congestion of the long columns in front +to ease off. Sometimes we would sit in a ditch by the +roadside and go off to sleep, only to be wakened a minute +after by the cry, “Forward!”</p> + +<p>About 6 a.m. we reached Croisette. The name +sounds attractive, but it really was a mean-looking +farmhouse at a cross-road; however, we got a very good +breakfast of coffee, bread and fresh butter, and eggs. +The farmer’s wife was anxious to know how the war +was going on. She rarely got news, but heard lots of +rumours. Everybody appeared to be hearing rumours +as well as the British Army. We told her that we +had killed thousands of Germans and were on the way +to slaughter those that were still left; and as this +appealed to the patriotic instincts of the farm lady, +she was very satisfied with our latest war bulletin.</p> + +<p>In three nights and three days I had had only three +hours’ sleep, and had got to a stage when I marched, +rode, and ate my food in a sort of subconscious state of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_158">[158]</span>reflex animation. In the late afternoon we rumbled +into Thielyce, and tried fruitlessly to find some billets +for our officers and men. The place was full of small +cottages, and the cottagers eagerly offered each to take +in one or two men; but we could not allow this, as +in the event of sudden orders through the night we +might not be able to get all our men together. We +always lived in one large party or habitation like gipsies. +One old woman of the village was extremely anxious +to have some khaki soldiers stop at her house. She +was curious to observe the English at close quarters, +as she had never seen one before and had heard that +they were such terrible fighting men. Our looks belied +our reputation; we looked harmless, very dirty and +dusty, but very tame.</p> + +<p>The ambulance was parked in a field off the village +street and inside a delightful clump of trees. Too tired +to eat, I lay down as I was, armed cap-à-pie, at the +foot of a tall umbrageous tree and slept a dreamless sleep.</p> + +<p>At five o’clock next morning the sharp call of our +O.C., “Field Ambulance, turn out!” aroused me +again to a world of marching men and war; but I was +my own man again and optimistic, and no longer +wondered why I had left England.</p> + +<p>We had a picnic breakfast sitting on the grass in +the field, and at seven o’clock received orders to move +off: we were to follow the 13th and 14th Brigades into +Bethune and on to La Bassée, and be prepared for big +casualties, as a stern battle was expected and the +two brigades would probably be in action before midday. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_159">[159]</span>There was a feeling of expectancy in the air +that morning. All the rumours about a big battle +and all our quick movements and marchings by night +seemed to presage a clash at arms. We hoped for +old England’s sake that we would do well; our pulses +were stirred and we were all very much alive.</p> + +<p>We moved off smartly down a fine old tree-lined road +towards the sound of heavy guns which had been in +action from daybreak. On our way we passed thousands +of hurrying refugees going towards St. Pol. +Without stopping, our ambulances growled their way +through the ancient cobble-stoned town on to the +big high road leading to Bethune. Here again we +met thousands of refugees, nearly all young men of +military age. We were curious to know why these +men were not in the French Army, and a French officer +told us that they belonged to Lille and the surrounding +districts, and had been ordered out by the French +authorities to report at military dépôts farther south +for training and active service. These “mobilisables” +would have been good captures for the Germans and a +considerable loss to the French Army. Amongst them +I counted twenty-seven priests in black caps and +cassocks; they, too, were on their way to shoulder a +French rifle. One young man I noticed carrying a +white rabbit in a bird-cage in one hand and a bundle of +clothes and boots in the other; he was saving his +rabbit from a German pie. Another fellow was walking +along the road in carpet slippers and with a pair of +heavy boots suspended round his neck.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_160">[160]</span></p> + +<p>The poor refugees looked tired, disappointed, and +depressed, and no wonder. It is hard suddenly to +have to leave your home, your friends, your wife and +children, and to go away with a gnawing fear that +they will be in the power of an arrogant and brutal +enemy who knows no mercy. We pitied them all.</p> + +<p>After all, there was no battle that day. We halted +on the way some time, and then were rapidly marched +forward towards Bethune. We were now passing +through coal-mining towns and villages, and they +recalled very much the villages and houses round coal +areas of Scotland like Falkirk. The type of coal-miner +and the coal-miner’s cottage are very much the same +all over the world. These people did not seem very +curious or interested in our passage through their +villages or towns—simply gave us a glance at +passing.</p> + +<p>That night we bivouacked in a château near +Bethune and on the main road. We could not get any +farther forward, for the road in front was blocked up +by big guns and little guns, ammunition columns, +engineer battalions, and infantry. We saw a number +of waggons loaded up with big pontoon boats, and +speculated that we must be near water. So we were. +We were near the famous canal, but the boats were +intended for farther west.</p> + +<p>After tea in the kitchen of the big château, some +of us got on our horses and rode into the city of Bethune, +now full of troops, and the bustle of warlike preparations. +There were all nationalities in the streets of Bethune +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_161">[161]</span>that night. Arabs in flowing robes were on horseback +in the square, looking strangely out of place in this +old western city. Spahis, French Grenadiers, French +gunners, Alpine Chasseurs in round cloth caps, Belgian, +French, and British officers, and, of course, Mr. Thomas +Atkins, quite at home, smoking a Woodbine cigarette +and being petted and openly admired by the women +and the girls. We heard here that Antwerp had +fallen, and thought the news very serious. It was +quite unexpected, as we had not known that it had +been strongly besieged.</p> + +<p>At five o’clock next morning we were on the road +in a dense fog, and after going forward about half a +mile were told to bivouac in a field near the road +till some ammunition columns and guns got past us. +This we did, but Monsignor wandered off alone farther +down the road. We missed him for a long time, and +when he did turn up he told us that he had been +arrested as a spy by the French. Two or three French +sentries with fixed bayonets surrounded him, and I +don’t know what arguments Monsignor used to convince +them that he was an Englishman. But he came +back smiling, and was evidently much tickled over the +whole affair. He was the only officer in the British +Army, and in fact the only member of the Expeditionary +Force, who was not in khaki uniform, and it is no wonder +that the French thought it odd that he should be +strolling about “on his own,” looking at British guns +and equipment. We were all delighted, of course, at +Monsignor’s arrest, and regretted that we had not been +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_162">[162]</span>there with our cameras. We were quite determined, +if he were again arrested, to disown all knowledge of +him, just to see what the French would do next.</p> + +<p>After some hours’ wait in the field we pushed on again +through Bethune towards the canal. This canal was to +us then simply a canal and nothing more, but along this +belt of slowly flowing water was to be waged very soon +one of the most terrific and sanguinary struggles recorded +in history.</p> + +<p>As we approached the canal the Norfolk Regiment +came up, and we drew to the side of the road to give +them the right of way. I sat on a heap of stones by the +roadside and watched this fine regiment marching +smartly past, and I remember thinking curiously that +probably that same day, perhaps within a few hours, +many of these fine fellows would have fallen and many +would be maimed.</p> + +<p>It is an impressive thing to see a regiment going +into action. The Norfolks knew that they would very +soon be in the thick of things, as they were marching +on the sound of the heavy guns, but they looked perfectly +cheerful and unconcerned. That night several of them +passed under my hands on the operating table, and many +more were lying very still on the wet earth not far away.</p> + +<p>The King’s Own Scottish Borderers passed us earlier +in the morning, and with them was Dr. D—— as +regimental surgeon. D—— was one of the first medical +officers over the Aisne, and he put through some splendid +service for the wounded under a heavy fire, and was +mentioned in dispatches. Four days afterwards poor +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_163">[163]</span>D—— and his stretcher-bearers were captured and sent +as prisoners to Germany.</p> + +<p>At 11 a.m. we crossed the narrow bridge spanning +the now famous canal leading up towards La Bassée, +and installed our ambulance headquarters in the Château +Gorre on the road to Festubert. The château had up +till that day been the headquarters of a French cavalry +general, and it was a most palatially fitted-up place.</p> + +<p>Our long journey was over. We had left the Aisne +and taken up a new position near La Bassée in the north +of France. We were now in a countryside destined +soon to become the theatre of an intense and sanguinary +struggle. It was here that our men withstood the shock +of the most determined and relentless head-on attacks +of the enemy. This was one of the roads to Calais, and +we held the gate.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_164">[164]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIV">CHAPTER XIV.<br> +<span class="smaller">THE LA BASSÉE ROAD AT CHÂTEAU GORRE.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>As the fighting is still going on round this district any +description of military positions or dispositions would be +quite out of place.</p> + +<p>Our headquarters at Château Gorre was a beautiful +two-storied stone building, quite modern, and well +arranged in every way with spacious lofty halls, dining-rooms, +lounges, bedrooms, and bathrooms.</p> + +<p>When we took up our quarters here we knew that we +would soon be busy with wounded, and the central +hall of the château was at once prepared for their reception. +Two larger rooms opening to the right and to +the left off the hall were covered with mattresses and +blankets, hot water was prepared, operation table +opened out, and towels and instruments made ready. +Just when we had about finished preparations our first +arrivals, four men of the Dragoon Guards, turned up. +They had been wounded slightly in the arms and face +while advancing along the road towards Festubert. +Twenty minutes later fifty-four wounded arrived, +Bedfords and Cheshires, most of whom had slight +wounds of the arms and hands and scalp, and were able +to walk.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_165">[165]</span></p> + +<p>Urgent orders came in to send six ambulance +waggons down the Festubert road. These were sent +forward with stretcher parties and six medical officers. +This was the beginning of a very “bloody” night. All +that evening and all night wounded were continually +coming in. I was on duty in the château as surgeon +till 4 a.m., when another medical officer relieved me. +Red Cross ambulances were driven up frequently and +took away all our lightly wounded and those fit to travel. +These were sent to Bethune, and thus the château was +kept from becoming too congested. These Red Cross +ambulances had been provided and equipped by British +residents in Paris; they were splendidly handled, +and proved a godsend to us. Many of them were +converted “Ford cars,” and could carry six lying-down +patients and one sitting up beside the driver. The +stretchers were swung on trestles and chains, and fitted +easily. Our ambulance waggons and stretcher-bearers +were out all night and had a very dangerous time at the +front. At 10.30 next morning the heavy artillery firing +eased off, and at eleven o’clock occurred one of those +extraordinary lulls when all the big guns and little guns +cease firing and everything seems strangely silent.</p> + +<p>A chaplain arrived at the château in the morning +and read the service over one of our wounded who had +died during the night from a broken spine. The grave +was dug near the flower garden at the foot of the lawn, +and many graves were dug there in the three succeeding +terrible weeks of fierce, bitter fighting. On this day the +Dorsets, who were in reserve and quartered near the gate +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_166">[166]</span>of our château, went into action and were badly handled +by the Germans, suffering severe losses, chiefly from a +concealed German machine-gun opening on to them +from near the canal. The Devons had to move up +later to support the Dorsets, and did it in a most gallant +style. About two o’clock in the afternoon we had a +great number of casualties; our waggons were constantly +arriving, unloading their wounded, and setting off again +for the front.</p> + +<p>The Red Cross ambulances were evacuating the light +cases as speedily as possible to Bethune, but we very +soon had all our rooms full of wounded men and were +working at high pressure at the operation table. At +three o’clock the artillery firing was tremendously heavy, +and every gun was in action. The château shook with +the explosions; every window rattled and some were +broken. The concussion of the air outside and the +terrible din were distinctly unpleasant. Then the +cracking of the rifle-firing became audible, and reports +came in that our men were retiring. Shortly after +an imperative order was sent to our O.C. telling him to +evacuate the château at once with his wounded and +move off the Field Ambulance to the other side of the +canal. The horses were at once put in the various supply +waggons. We had only two ambulance waggons at the +time, as the rest were at the front collecting wounded. +Some Red Cross ambulances, however, turned up and +took away twelve of our most serious cases. All the +lightly wounded were sent under charge of R.A.M.C. +orderlies to walk back across the canal to Bethune. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_167">[167]</span>Some men with shrapnel wounds of thigh and leg also +had to walk and get along somehow, and miserable and +pitiable these poor fellows looked, limping and struggling +along the muddy road in their bloody bandages. Things +looked pretty serious at this moment, and I was ordered +to mount and gallop ahead to direct the waggons on to +the right road and to “round up” our poor wounded +fellows who were trudging along the roads. To make +matters worse, heavy rain came on. Big artillery +practice always brought down the rain. I soon reached +the head of our column and gave the sergeant the +necessary instructions.</p> + +<p>On the side of the road there was an old inn or +<i>estaminet</i>. I pulled my horse up here and put two +men on duty to stop all our walking wounded and +collect them into the front room of the inn. I went +inside and arranged with the woman in charge to light +a big fire, make some tea, and have bread and butter +and anything else she could get ready for our men, and +to do it quickly. She set to work at once. I had then +to gallop back to the Château Gorre to help get away +the serious cases and to collect any empty lorry or +waggon I could get. When I reached the château the +O.C. told me that we had moved up some reserves, +and the Germans in their turn were now retiring. He +said that he would now keep his serious cases at the +château till motor ambulances arrived. I was ordered +to gallop again to the head of our column and turn +back all the supply waggons, equipment carts, and +water carts, but to send the ambulance waggons +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_168">[168]</span>with their wounded on to Bethune. It was now dark, +and after incredible trouble my mission was accomplished +and our drivers were already driving the carts +back. I now looked in at “mine inn.” All our wounded +fellows were sitting round the fire having tea, +bread and butter, and slices of cold boiled ham, and +looked very happy. I asked the woman of the inn +what the cost was, and she only charged me ten francs. +I never parted with money so willingly. The privilege +of being able to do something for these good lads, and +their appreciation of the hot fire and the hot tea, was +something I would not willingly forget.</p> + +<p>The Château Gorre was once more re-established +as an advanced ambulance dressing station, and continued +so for over three weeks. It was situated right +inside the shell zone, and had many “alarms and +excursions” during this period, but none quite so +dramatic and sensational as that recorded above. The +work done by this ambulance at the château was +extraordinarily good and useful, and owing to its very +advanced position so close to the fighting line it was +able to receive and treat the wounded very soon after +they had been hit.</p> + +<p>When the order came to evacuate at the time of +the incident related above, the instructions given to +our Commanding Officer were to get out all the lightly +wounded cases and to leave the serious cases in the +château. Our O.C. was a soldier, and he said that if +he had to go he would get all the wounded out, and +that he would be “damned if he would leave any +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_169">[169]</span>seriously wounded man in the hands of the b—— +Germans.” Strong language at times is sweet music, +and our O.C. was a man of his word. The wounded +men heard this story, and I heard some of them talking +about it later to each other. The O.C. took a high +place in their estimation.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp52" id="illus18" style="max-width: 21.875em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus18.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption> + <p><span class="smcap">Low flat ground near the canal—with a + trench.</span></p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp52" id="illus19" style="max-width: 21.875em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus19.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption> + <p><span class="smcap">Towards La Bassée.</span><br> + Many British dead lie here.</p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>At the château I was talking to a young lieutenant +who had just received a commission in the D—— +Regiment. He had served as a private at the beginning +of the war and won his sergeant’s stripes for general +good conduct and gallantry under fire, and was then +given a commission in another regiment. He was hard +put for a smoke, and could not get any cigarettes, but +fortunately I was able to give him some.</p> + +<p>Ten days later, at Bethune, he was brought in to +me with a crushed arm, hanging by only a thread of +muscle to the shoulder, and I had to amputate it under +chloroform. He recognised me as the man who had +given him the cigarettes, and said, “Hullo, doctor, +you’re always doing me kind things, so now take my +arm off.” I was very sorry that I had to do it, but +such is war and the aftermath of victory.</p> + +<p>Next day after our big alarm I was sent back by +the Assistant Director of the Medical Service of this +Division to take up duty at Bethune, four miles back +from where we were, at the Château Gorre, and to help +in the organisation for handling and treating our many +wounded there. Bethune was on the other side of +the canal to the château, and during the succeeding +three or four weeks became a very big hospital +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_170">[170]</span>centre for the British engaged in the direction of La +Bassée.</p> + +<p>The Field Ambulance headquarters, with the waggons, +still remained at the château closer to the firing line, +and evacuated their many wounded as speedily as +possible in to us at Bethune. These were strenuous +days of hard and obstinate fighting, and the casualties +were heavy. The life of the medical officer was at this +place arduous and sleepless, but the motto of the Royal +Army Medical Corps is “In arduis fidelis,” which may +be freely rendered “Always do your job.”</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_171">[171]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XV">CHAPTER XV.<br> +<span class="smaller">BETHUNE.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>Bethune held a position of great importance behind our +lines, for our wounded were evacuated thither from +the front, and those fit to take the journey were +then sent on by hospital trains to Boulogne and Rouen +and then to England. This old city will be visited by +many English after the war, for many English officers +and men are sleeping their long sleep in the old cemetery +and in various parts of the surrounding country. One +day, I am sure, a monument to the memory of the brave +dead will be raised in Bethune, and the mural inscription +will commemorate the names of the fallen, and +place on record for all time the kindness, the sympathy, +and the generous hearts of the people of Bethune who +helped us all so much during the hard days of the war.</p> + +<p>Owing to its many recent bombardments from +guns and aeroplanes, and its proximity to the famous +canal and La Bassée, Bethune has become a city of +world-wide interest. Its population was at this time a +cosmopolitan one. The warriors of the East were in +friendly touch with the warriors of the West. The +slanting, almond-eye Gurkha, the stately bearded Sikh, +the swarthy fighting men from the frontiers and central +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_172">[172]</span>plains of India, the Turcos with their flowing robes, +the dapper Spahi, the black-eyed Senegalese, the French +Alpine Chasseur, and the splendid Cuirassier, were +all to be seen in its streets; and there also was Mr. +Thomas Atkins, making himself, as usual, quite at home +with them all, and also with the pleasant-faced smiling +young women in the tobacconists and fruit shops.</p> + +<p>Bethune, with its 14,000 inhabitants, is said to be +the home of many millionaires—those manufacturing +and industrial magnates who control the big industries +of this thriving and populous part of France. The +situation of the city is not very attractive. It is surrounded +by muddy, swampy country, in some places +nothing better than marshes or bogs in winter, but it +is supposed to be attractive in spring and summer, when +it is “a green prairie land.”</p> + +<p>The old square in the centre of the city has a very +Flemish complexion, but is undoubtedly, owing to the +irregularities in design and architecture of the surrounding +houses and shops, a very attractive and fascinating +spot. On one side are two fine old fourteenth-century +Spanish houses built for some Spanish grandees in the +days when Spain was supreme in the Netherlands. In +the centre of the square is an old church and a mass +of hoary buildings forming an island, and out of this +island group of buildings the wonderful old Belfry of +Bethune erects itself proudly skyward. The belfry +was built in 1346, and behind it is the venerable church +of St. Vaast, a product of the sixteenth century, with a +very ornate Gothic tower.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_173">[173]</span></p> + +<p>Naturally the belfry and the tower of St. Vaast +proved to be irresistibly attractive to the German +gunners, and the batteries beyond La Bassée were +constantly having long bowls practice at them. From +the top of the belfry one could obtain a splendid view of +the surrounding countryside and see the shrapnel and +big shells burst miles away. Taubes were constantly +flying over Bethune at this time, but later on they +became very chary about visiting it.</p> + +<p>The life of the old city during the past eight months +has been rather unhappy, and it has gone through +some stormy periods in the past. In 1188 a devastating +plague swept the countryside, causing thousands of +deaths and plunging the population into an abyss of +fear and misery.</p> + +<p>When the plague was at its height Saint Eloi appeared +to two blacksmiths and recommended them to form an +association of “charitables,” charged to perform the last +offices for the dead gratuitously and to help those in +distress. This curious association exists to-day in +Bethune under the name of Confrères des Charitables. +During our stay in Bethune the charitables lived up +to their old tradition and took the deepest interest in +the welfare of our soldiers, made coffins for a very +large number of our dead, and in their curious three-cornered +“Napoleonic” hats and quaint badge and +bands, solemnly followed the many dead to their last +resting-place.</p> + +<p>Bethune has passed through many sieges in its day. +In 1487 it was in possession of the Germans under +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_174">[174]</span>Philippe of Cleves, and was captured by the French +under Marshal d’Erquerdes at the victory called +“Journée des Fromages,” and at a later period of its +history it was fortified by the great French engineer, +Vauban.</p> + +<p>The people of Bethune opened wide their arms and +welcomed our wounded. From the Mayor of the city to +the humblest little shop girl these good people did all +they could for our men, dead, wounded, or active. The +women of the town made delicacies, soups, and special +dishes, provided wines and more solid comforts, such +as beds, mattresses, blankets, and sheets. Had I but +lifted my little finger and asked for volunteer nurses, +I could, I am sure, have obtained them in hundreds. +Every day while I was there I received letters from +all sorts of people offering me help and all manner of +things for our men. On an afternoon at Bethune at +this time it was “the thing” for ladies to visit L’Hôpital +Civil et Militaire and see the British soldiers. Our +lightly wounded men would generally be sitting about +on seats outside in the courtyard of the hospital surrounded +by convalescent Frenchmen and crowds of +admiring ladies, who had brought cigarettes, chocolate, +and cakes for the soldiers of both nations.</p> + +<p>Although Tommy did not know a word of French +and they knew no English, they seemed to thoroughly +understand each other, judging by the amused faces +of the elder French ladies and the screams of laughter +of the younger ones. We could never quite understand +how Tommy has won such an enduring place +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_175">[175]</span>in French hearts. The French people certainly like +Tommy. I was glad to see this everywhere in France, +for I, too, like Tommy, although he is full of tricks.</p> + +<p>A section of the Field Ambulance consisting of two +medical officers, Royal Army Medical Corps orderlies, +waggons, cooks, and equipment had already taken +possession of the school called L’École Jules Ferry, +and was getting it into some order so as to act as a +Clearing Hospital, or temporary Dressing Station or +temporary Clearing Hospital.</p> + +<p>We were to hold the fort till a properly equipped +Clearing Hospital with its increased <i>personnel</i> and +supplies should arrive. This did not appear for some +days, and our Field Ambulance section had the herculean +task of handling all the wounded from the +fighting front, where a bloody struggle was in progress +round the swamps and marshy country towards La +Bassée. L’École Jules Ferry was situated down a +side street of the old city, and near the railway station. +It was a very large school, with several big lofty rooms, +many small side-rooms, porches and alcoves of many +sorts. There was a large courtyard with latrines, and +the buildings formed a hollow square with part of +the courtyard in the centre. The face of the buildings +looking on to the courtyard had a long sweep of verandahs. +The orderlies soon got to work, cleaned and +swept the rooms, and covered the floor thickly with +clean straw. No beds were then available. In a +small side-room off a passage-way an operating table +was fixed, and the surgical instruments and dressings +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_176">[176]</span>were laid ready. Boiling water had to be carried to +the operating room in buckets from the kitchen at +the end of the building. The hospital was all very +crude, but it was the best that could be done under +the circumstances.</p> + +<p>We did not have to await events; the events were +there at once in the guise of crowds of recently wounded +men. Motor ambulance after motor ambulance dashed +up with its load of wounded. These were rapidly +lifted out and carried into the building; then away +went the ambulance to bring in more wounded. Many +and large as were the schoolrooms they were quickly +filled to overflowing. The corridors and porches were +then covered with straw, and this straw was soon +covered with rows of wounded men. The paved +courtyard under the verandahs was covered with +thick straw, and again covered with wounded. Every +foot, every inch of floor space in the buildings and +under the verandahs was utilised. In one room we +had closely packed rows four deep, with a narrow footway +of straw down the centre of the room for the +doctors and orderlies to pass along. So narrow was +this track, that it required the agility of a mountain +goat to negotiate it without bumping some poor devil’s +feet, and we walked along it just as a man walks +across a ploughed field, stepping high and watching +each step. Those densely packed rooms during that +long night were a lurid and impressive picture of the +devastation of war. As more and more wounded +continued to arrive we had to pack our men closer +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_177">[177]</span>and closer together—gently push one this way, lift +another one there, edge a third one closer still. So it +went on. We had in our rooms a number of French +wounded picked up and brought in by our ambulances, +and also a fair number of German wounded. There +is no nationality amongst the men in a hospital, and +English, French, and German all had a little bit of floor +space and a bit of straw in our schoolhouse that night. +All were glad to get in out of the pouring rain, and be +placed on the warm dry straw, and covered with a +blanket.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus20" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus20.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption> + <p><span class="smcap">Slightly wounded and sick at Bethune.</span></p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus21" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus21.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption> + <p><span class="smcap">École Jules Ferry at Bethune.</span></p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>All these men arrived with the first field-dressings on. +Some had been put on by the surgeon with the regiment, +some by bearers and orderlies, some by Field Ambulance +officers, and some by the man’s comrades on the field.</p> + +<p>At first we were so busy “packing” our wounded +that we could not investigate the nature of the wounds, +but we were very soon under way with the professional +side of our work. Every wound was examined; the +slight ones were left alone, but the serious ones were +re-dressed and a rough differentiation of serious and +slight cases was made. Those requiring immediate +surgery were brought into our operation room and +anæsthetics were administered. All men in pain were +given hypodermics of morphia, and our orderlies made +hot drinks and soups for all those able to take nourishment. +There were, of course, many men lying unconscious +with severe brain wounds, and most of these +men died next day. The brain injuries were amongst +our most hopeless cases, but fortunately these poor +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_178">[178]</span>fellows suffered no pain whatever, and slept stertorously +till death. There was one particularly fine, strapping, +young giant lieutenant of a Scotch regiment who was +comfortably placed on straw and covered with a blanket, +and who lay quietly sleeping, with gentle and easy +respirations, all the night till the next forenoon, when +he suddenly became quite still. The top of his head had +been blown completely away.</p> + +<p>The crowds of wounded behaved like brave men +and took their gruelling like good sportsmen. Next +day the pressure was relieved by the opportune +arrival of a hospital train, and we were enabled to +evacuate 250 of the cases fit for transport. More doctors +and Red Cross dressers were sent to help, and the vacant +places of the 250 sent away were occupied by the arrival +of another 300.</p> + +<p>As the pressure for beds showed no signs of easing +off, and as the reports from the front were that the +fighting was still violent and obstinate, a search was +made for another building to hold more wounded. +This was found at L’Hôpital Civil et Militaire, a +permanent hospital of the city of Bethune. It was a +hospital of three stories, built of brick round three sides +of a big hollow square. The fourth side was occupied by +the porter’s lodge, the two gateways, and the residential +quarters of the Reverend Mother and Sisters of the Order +of St. Francis, who formed the nursing staff. The +basement wards of one wing were for French military +patients, and the other wings were for civilian patients; +but as a matter of fact military wounded were put in +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_179">[179]</span>all the wards except the midwifery ward, which was full +of young babies and mothers. One of these young +mothers, by the way, had just become the proud +possessor of triplets. I had a look at them, and they +seemed very fit. Their father had been away for the past +three months in the trenches of the Argonne, but permission +had been asked to enable him to come down +and see how well his wife had done.</p> + +<p>The top story of the hospital had two large empty +wards, each capable of holding seventy patients placed +fairly closely together. I asked permission of the +Reverend Mother and the hospital secretary to use +these wards for the reception of our wounded.</p> + +<p>“But yes,” I was eagerly told; “you are welcome, +and we shall do all we can for your English wounded.” +I was also offered the use of three side-rooms and part +of another small ward for any wounded officers, and—greatest +boon of all—the use of the two operating +theatres of the hospital. These operating theatres +were modern and splendidly equipped with good surgical +iron operating tables, suitable for adjusting in any +position, sterilisers for instruments, dressings, aprons, +and operating towels, glass cases full of the latest +type of instruments, and hot and cold water taps +controlled by foot-pedals on the floor.</p> + +<p>The lighting was all that one could desire. My joy +knew no bounds now, for I felt that at last I would +be able to do good surgery and clean surgery. Up till +now the surgery I had done on the field was crude and +not very clean. It was absolutely impossible to be +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_180">[180]</span>otherwise, for we were the victims of stern military +circumstances. But now things would be different, +and our wounded men and officers would get the benefit +of surgical cleanliness.</p> + +<p>I asked the Reverend Mother if she would prepare +one hundred straw mattresses for me, and get in some +blankets. “But yes” I would get them; and also +Monsieur le Docteur would have tables put in the centre +of the wards for the dressings, and would have basins +and towels. An electrician would fix up electric lights, +and a kitchen stove would be put in a side-room for +cooking soup, boiling water, etc. I reported all this to +Surgeon-General P——, and that able officer quickly +grasped the possibilities of this hospital, installed me +there as operating surgeon, and directed that all serious +cases requiring surgical operation should be sent to me. +A real Clearing Hospital arrived in the town next +morning, and next day took in patients. It established +itself in the “College for Young Ladies,” and very +soon the spacious quarters of this big building were +filled with wounded and sick men. For besides our +wounded at this time we had also a large number of +sick. This hospital also sent me any case requiring +surgical operation.</p> + +<p>Work at my wards proceeded apace. The women of +the city rushed eagerly to assist, and in a <i>clin d’œil</i> +had made 180 straw mattresses, provided blankets, hot-water +bottles, and other sick-room adjuncts. The +position in Bethune was now as follows. One Clearing +Hospital at the College for Young Ladies, one at the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_181">[181]</span>school “Jules Ferry,” and my surgical wards, only +for serious cases, at L’Hôpital Civil et Militaire. All +three buildings were soon full, and over seven thousand +wounded men passed through these buildings in less +than three weeks.</p> + +<p>Sir Anthony Bowlby, consulting surgeon to the +Army, constantly visited this hospital, and was always +a welcome visitor; and his surgical opinion was as +welcome as his encouragement and cheeriness of +manner.</p> + +<p>The operating theatre was presided over by Sister +Ferdinande, a trained and capable nurse, with rigid +antiseptic and aseptic principles. All I had to do was +to tell her that I was going to amputate a limb or do a +trephining operation, and ask her when she would be +ready. At the agreed time everything was certain +to be prepared, and I just had to scrub up, put on +my sterilised apron, cap, and rubber gloves, and be +ready for my part of the <i>séance</i>. The Reverend Mother +Superior was a trained anæsthetist and administered +chloroform to many of my cases during the three weeks +I was there. Some days I have had her administering +anæsthetics for seven hours. Seven hours’ continuous +administration, broken only by the taking out of one +patient and the bringing in of another, is a big test +of endurance for a young man; yet this old lady +did it smilingly and well, and said it was “indeed +nothing.”</p> + +<p>There were two Irish nuns at this hospital; one +spoke French well, one was just learning, but both +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_182">[182]</span>spoke “Irish,” which is good English. These two nuns +were put on nursing duty in my wards, and they were +hugely delighted to get amongst the British wounded +and to hear their countrymen talk. Tommy Atkins +was delighted with the two Irish nuns, and told them +some wonderful stories about the fighting and about +the Germans. One of them asked me if I really thought +that Private S—— of the Warwicks had shot two +hundred Germans one afternoon. I told the sister that I +did not know, but hoped he had. These two sisters were +at work in the wards night and day. They told me one +day that they had never heard a soldier swear. I was +very glad to hear this, for it showed that Tommy was +behaving himself, and I did not tell the sister that +Tommy on occasion was a very past master in strange +oaths. The sisters were very concerned about the lice +on our soldiers’ shirts and flannels; and really this was a +terrible source of anxiety to all medical officers at this +time, for these cursed parasites would make the lot of +our wounded men unbearable at times. One man with +a fractured leg put up firmly in splints begged me to +take the splints off so that he could “scratch the leg.” +I had really in the end to take off the splint, bathe the +skin in petrol, and dust sulphur on the cotton wool, for +lice had worked their way down into the warm wool +next the skin, and by their “promenading” about had +set up the irritation which the soldier begged to scratch. +The sister once said to me that she used to think that +the British soldiers were the most cleanly of men, but +she found really that they were all covered with lice. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_183">[183]</span>I told the wondering-eyed sister that it was a regrettable +fact, but nevertheless true, that the whole British +Army at the front was lousy.</p> + +<p>When our wounded arrived at the hospital they +were speedily placed on the straw mattresses, quickly +undressed by the sisters and other helping nuns, and +covered with warm sheets and blankets and surrounded +with hot bottles. Basins of hot water and soap were +brought round and then the men were washed and +cleaned. Their lice-infected shirts and underclothing +were sterilised by dry heat.</p> + +<p>It was the finest example of <i>l’entente cordiale</i> to +see the French nuns taking off the muddy boots and +puttees, cutting off blood-stained clothing, washing +and cleaning the wounded, slipping on warm dry shirts, +and tucking the blankets and pillows comfortably. +Others appeared with hot soup, hot coffee, red wine, +and hot gruel. These nuns were magnificent.</p> + +<p>I wrote to Lord Grey, late Governor-General of +Canada, asking him to bring to the notice of Her Majesty +Queen Alexandra the splendid work performed by +these ladies. Lord Grey very kindly did so, and also +sent a copy of my letter to His Majesty the King, who +replied through Lord Stamfordham that he had read +it with much interest. Queen Alexandra sent the +following letter to the Reverend Mother Superior of the +Franciscan Sisters at Bethune:</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>“I have learned from Dr. Martin of your noble and +heroic devotion for our brave and unfortunate wounded +soldiers, and it is with a heart full of gratitude that I +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_184">[184]</span>ask you to accept my most ardent and warmest +thanks.</p> + +<p>“I pray God that He will reward you for the angelic +care that you have bestowed on our unfortunate soldiers, +and I will never forget that it is to you, madame, and +your sisters, that they assuredly owe their life and +their recovered health.</p> + +<p class="right">“<span class="smcap">Alexandra.</span>”</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>This letter was published in all the leading French +and British papers, including the <i>London Times</i>, <i>Tablet</i>, +<i>Daily Mail</i>, <i>Figaro</i>, <i>Le Journal</i>, <i>Le Temps</i>, in February +1915, and excited very considerable interest and attention +in France. The Abbé Bouchon d’Homme, the +Aumonier to the hospital, wrote me later to say that the +Reverend Mother and the Sisters were delighted beyond +measure at Queen Alexandra’s gracious message.</p> + +<p>It may not be out of place now to describe briefly +the nature of some of the wounds met with during +the fighting at La Bassée. The non-medical mind is +as interested in the wounds and sufferings of our men +as are the doctors, and it is to the intelligent interest +of the layman we owe so much of what has been done +for our wounded and sick men. Compound fractures +and splintered bone, septic wounds, tetanus, brain +injuries, inoculations, etc., are words freely bandied +about and understood by any group of ladies met +together round an afternoon tea-table. Mrs. Smith-Jones +will tell Mrs. Jones-Smith that her son is in +hospital with a septic compound fracture and that the +wound is being fully drained, and Mrs. J.-S. will reply +that her sister’s husband, Captain X—— of the R.F.A., +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_185">[185]</span>is recovering from a penetrating wound of the lung, +but has still some pleural effusion. So no apology is +further necessary when referring to such a thing as gas +gangrene.</p> + +<p>Gas gangrene was one of the terrors of the doctors +at this time. It was a new and totally unexpected +complication of the wounds, and at first we did not +know what to do in the face of this pressing danger. A +man would get, say, a flesh wound of the arm or leg, or +perhaps a fractured bone, and very soon the whole limb +would become gangrenous and die. Gangrene means +death of the part. It may be death of a small part or +of a large part, and the worst feature of the form of +gangrene met with at Bethune was its tendency to rapid +spread, resulting in the speedy death of the limb and +of the patient. We had many deaths from this terrible +gas gangrene, and performed many amputations to +save lives. A good surgeon hates to amputate a limb, +and will gladly exert all his skill and knowledge to save +even a toe. It was heartrending to have to perform +so many amputations at Bethune, and yet these serious +mutilating operations had to be performed in order to +save lives.</p> + +<p>The gangrene was caused by a group of bacilli called +anærobes, amongst which may be many organisms. +About ten different organisms have been obtained from +cases of gas gangrene, and these all belong to the same +family of anærobic bacilli. They are all spore-bearing, +and grow in the absence of air. These bacilli are found +in the soil in France and Belgium, and are always to be +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_186">[186]</span>found in the soil of those countries which have been +closely cultivated for centuries past.</p> + +<p>If a guinea-pig is inoculated with a sample of this +earth shaken up in a little water it will develop this gas +gangrene and die. Imagine, then, this picture. The +soil of the trenches is full of these organisms, which, if +introduced into an open wound, grow and spread and +cause the limb to become gangrenous. As the organism +spreads up the limb it produces a gas of its own, and +by pressing on the skin one can feel this gas cracking, +like tissue paper, under the fingers. The treatment is +to inject the parts with oxygen or peroxide of hydrogen, +to make free incisions round the wound, thoroughly +cleanse the wound and keep it clean. The general +condition of the patients required great care, for they +were all very, very ill. When a man got wounded in +the trenches some dirt was bound to get into the wound, +for the men’s hands and clothes were usually caked +with mud.</p> + +<p>It is a natural movement to clap a hand on the +wounded spot. If a man is struck on the face or limbs, +he will lay down his rifle or perhaps drop it, and at +once put his hand on the injured part to ascertain the +extent. It is a movement which is almost involuntary. +I have seen hit men do this often, and when they withdraw +their hand they always look at it to see if there is +any blood, and the bravest man does not like to see +his own blood. The hands of the men in the trenches +were infected with the bacilli of this gas gangrene and +of tetanus, and when these infected fingers touched a +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_187">[187]</span>recent wound, the wound itself became infected with +these highly dangerous organisms.</p> + +<p>Pieces of khaki cloth, caked in mud, were often +driven into the wounds with the bullets and shrapnel, +and on this cloth there were of course millions of the +deadly little beasts.</p> + +<p>If the case reached us soon after the onset of +gangrene a cure could almost certainly be promised. +If the case arrived late, when the limbs were dead, +amputation was the only “conservative treatment” +that one could adopt. Many of the cases sent to me +were beyond any hope of recovery and soon died. On +one day I saw in one Clearing Hospital in the town +four cases dying from gas gangrene; in the other Clearing +Hospital, two cases <i>in articulo mortis</i> from the same +trouble; and in my own, one other case. Seven cases +dying on one day from gas gangrene! None of these +had been operated upon. This will give some idea +of the formidable character of this complication.</p> + +<p>None but the very serious cases were sent to me. +Many cases of gas gangrene were evacuated early and +sent to the Base Hospitals. Most of my cases came +from one or other of the Clearing Hospitals in this town. +Some arrived direct from the Field Ambulances. In +every amputation for gas gangrene performed at this +hospital the limb was absolutely dead and beyond the +possibility of any treatment short of amputation. All +the patients were in an extremely grave state, and +their general condition was in every case very bad. I +cannot picture any worse surgical subject than these +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_188">[188]</span>men with gas gangrene. Numbers of them were in too +low a state to admit of a general anæsthetic, and here +the necessary operations were performed under conduction +anæsthesia.</p> + +<p>Dr. F——, an eminent French surgeon in charge +of the French wounded in this town, saw many of +my cases before, during, and after operation. I had +the privilege also of seeing his gangrene cases at this +time. He had amongst the French wounded the same +experience as mine. Both of us had German wounded +to treat, and here also we met dead limbs from gas +gangrene. We were both of the opinion that the +Germans at this place were also up against a very +virulent “culture” here, that of the anærobe. Some +wounded French refugees were brought into this +hospital at this period, and some of these had gas +gangrene. The serious character of gas gangrene at +this time could only be recognised at the front. The +serious cases were retained here for operation. I am +of the opinion that all cases of gangrene should be +treated at the front at the nearest Clearing Hospital, +and that no case should be sent to the Base till the +gangrene had disappeared, subject, of course, as always, +to the military situation. All the wounded admitted +to this town—French, British, and German—came +from the same area of the battle front.</p> + +<p>In many of the cases of gas gangrene bones were +badly shattered and pulverised, splinters of bone were +lying in surrounding muscles, or had been driven out +through the skin. Important nerves were injured, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_189">[189]</span>torn, or compressed in many of them. Important +blood-vessels were frequently, but not invariably, +injured. In some, big vessels had been torn through; +in others, arteries and nerves were compressed by displaced +fragments of bone. The wounds were dirty +in most cases. The skin was black and lacerated, and +muscles were extruded and covered with coagulated +blood clots.—Wound full of blood clots, and containing +at times pieces of khaki cloth, shrapnel fragments, +nickel casing of bullets, gravel, and, in two cases, bits of +rock.—So runs the record in my notes. There were, +however, cases in which the bullet had drilled an +apparently clean hole through a joint, like the wrist +or ankle, without much apparent destruction to bone. +In such cases one would not expect gas gangrene; yet +it sometimes occurred.</p> + +<p>Gas gangrene is encouraged by tight bandaging, +and many of the cases had a bandage applied all too +firmly. When a man is wounded in a trench his mate +frequently applies the first-aid dressing, and fixes it +like a tourniquet. This could perhaps be obviated +by making the bandage of the first field-dressing a +little wider than at present. A narrow bandage tends +to become cord-like.</p> + +<p>All the cases of gas gangrene had a very penetrating +putrefactive smell, which is quite characteristic. The +area of advancing gangrene is preceded by an œdematous +zone, which fades in one direction to the area of healthy +skin and in the direction towards the wound to a dullish +injected area which crackles on palpation. Nearer +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_190">[190]</span>the wound the skin is purplish and dark. Around +the edges of the usually jagged wound the tissues were +black or greenish-black. Extravasated blood undermined +the skin all round the wound. The wound itself +was full of blood clots. The limb distal to the wound +was swollen, greenish-black, covered with green blebs, +cold, insensitive, and pulseless in the “dead” limbs. +Frequently toes and fingers were quite black. In +other serious cases there might be a little warmth or a +slight pulse. If any case showed either of these two +favourable signs, an attempt was made to save the +limb, and was in many cases successful. The gangrene +did not spread up a limb in an even circle. For example, +it might reach anteriorly to the lower third of the +thigh, and posteriorly be at or well above the fold of the +buttock. This was due to the extravasated blood +lying more towards the dependent parts and to gravity. +In the upper arm the gangrene travelled rapidly up +the inner side along the course of the big blood-vessels. +The invasion spread upwards; very little crackling +was felt below the site of the wound. The circulation +below seemed to be rapidly cut off, and that portion of +the limb underwent the changes associated with a +complete circulatory block. Wounds of the thigh with +shattering of the femur, wounds of the elbow-joint +and of the metatarsus were very prone to develop this +gangrene. Some of the cases were admitted within +thirty-six hours after receipt of the wound, with well-marked +gangrene.</p> + +<p>In every case of amputation performed there was +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_191">[191]</span>nothing else to be done in order to save life. The +limbs were dead. In many of these cases important +blood-vessels were torn, crushed, or compressed, and +when the vessels were injured the gangrene developed +more quickly and spread more rapidly. It is regrettable +that one had to perform so many amputations at this +time, but it is a matter for congratulation that so many +lives were saved. One of the cases died suddenly +twelve hours after a disarticulation at the shoulder-joint. +Another one died three days after amputation +at the hip-joint, from gangrene which progressed +steadily on to the lower abdomen. There were, in +addition, five deaths from gangrene following wounds +of the extremities. These five were admitted in a dying +condition, and passed away two to four hours after +admission. One could do nothing for them surgically. +Other cases died at the other Clearing Hospitals in the +town. It was a sad and mournful experience seeing +these fine young men die.</p> + +<p>These cases of gas gangrene were all bad surgical +subjects, for in addition to the gangrene, loss of blood, +privation, and exposure subsequent to being wounded, +their wounds were dangerous and mutilating, and the +transportation to the hospital was, sometimes, necessarily +an agonising ordeal. This will show that our Clearing +Hospitals at the front should be well and thoroughly +equipped with all modern appliances for the treatment +of shock, and a staff fully alive to this clamant necessity. +A Clearing Hospital cannot to-day remain as an administrative +unit only.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_192">[192]</span></p> + +<p>Another complication of our wounds at this time +was tetanus (or the so-called lock-jaw). When it was +recognised that the bacillus of tetanus was also found +in the soil of France and Flanders, efficient measures +were at once adopted to combat its terrible effects. +Accordingly anti-tetanic serum was provided at all the +Base Hospitals, Clearing Hospitals, and Ambulances, and +every man wounded in France or Flanders to-day gets +an injection of this serum within twenty-four hours of +the receipt of the wound. No deaths from tetanus +have occurred since these measures have been adopted.</p> + +<p>Tetanus caused many deaths at the beginning of +the war, not only amongst our own soldiers, but also +amongst the Belgians, French, and Germans. When +tetanus manifests itself, when the convulsions and +muscular spasms come on, it is a terrible malady to +treat, and most of the cases die. At this time the +injection of anti-tetanic serum does not ensure a recovery, +but if this serum is given to every wounded man, then +none will develop tetanus, and that is why none of the +wounded men are asked if they will have the “lock-jaw +injection.” At the front there is no time for conscientious +objectors.</p> + +<p>Shrapnel wounds were always bad; the round +bullets of lead always ripped and tore the tissues about +so terribly. The Mauser bullet did not cause nearly +so much damage, but it sometimes produced very +lacerating wounds. The Mauser bullet “turns over” +when travelling through a limb, and this turning means +tearing of tissues on the path of the bullet, and often a +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_193">[193]</span>huge jagged wound like that produced by an explosive +bullet.</p> + +<p>It has been said that we are treating wounds of +an eighteenth-century character with twentieth-century +technique. The eighteenth-century battle wounds +were inflicted at close range, and so are many of the +wounds inflicted to-day.</p> + +<p>At Crecy and Agincourt both sides used arrows. +The aviators of the Allies and the enemy carry steel +darts which they spin down on the foe below. Bows +have been used in the trenches to send inflammable +arrows into the opposing lines. The Roman soldier +advanced to close combat behind a shield held on his +left arm, and shields have been used at certain observation +spots by the Germans and in the Russian trenches; +our Allies have at times used spades for a similar purpose.</p> + +<p>Bombards were employed at Crecy, and bombards +have come to their own again in the trenches from +Switzerland to the sea. Hand grenades were employed +in the Peninsular War, and are employed to-day in this +War of the Nations. Our men attack the enemy and +the enemy attack us with bayonets as in the days of +the Crimea and the Peninsula, and our riflemen pick +off the enemy by long-distance fire, and also fire at close +range into solid masses of them. Even the armour of +old days is represented on modern fields of battle, for +the French Cuirassier goes into action with a brass +cuirass and helmet; and a French infantry officer of my +acquaintance has worn a light shirt of chain-mail +extending from his neck to beyond his hips, all through +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_194">[194]</span>this campaign, and he said that it had saved his life +on more than one occasion. In one <i>magasin</i> in Rouen +shirts of beautifully made chain-mail can be purchased, +and the shopkeeper told me that he had sold hundreds +to French soldiers.</p> + +<p>The hardships of the Crimean trenches—cold, +rheumatism, and frostbite—have been repeated on the +Yser. Gangrene was rampant amongst the wounded +of Wagram, Austerlitz, and Borodino, and amongst the +French and British wounded at Vittoria, Salamanca, +Badajos, and other great battles of the Peninsula, and it +has startlingly reappeared on the Aisne and in Flanders.</p> + +<p>Historians of that day refer to it as hospital +gangrene, or the gangrene so common after any surgical +operation or wound of that time. It may, on the other +hand, have been the same gas gangrene that has ominously +complicated so many of our wounds in France +and Flanders. The bacillus which produces this +gangrene may belong, for all we know to the contrary, +to a very old family of bacilli, who would look upon +pedigrees dating to William the Conqueror with an +aristocratic contempt when his own stretched back to +the beginning of time.</p> + +<p>There is one feature of war as carried on to-day +which is quite new, and that is by poison gases and by +poisoning wells and water supplies. In West Africa +the Germans have been proved indisputably and by +their own admissions to have poisoned wells and water +supplies, and the whole world stands amazed and +aghast at the devilish and inhuman Germans who set +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_195">[195]</span>free poison gases to overwhelm and suffocate British, +French, and Belgian soldiers in the trenches. This +diabolical and ghastly method of murder is without +parallel in history, and the bloodily-minded men who +conceived and carried out this sinister, ferocious thing +will live accursed all their days and be a name of scorn +and loathing for ever.</p> + +<p>Although the civil hospital at Bethune was such a +grim place of crowded wounded, it was yet the scene +of much humour. We had wounded men belonging to +many different countries, and the nuns were very +interested in all the odd types. Off one of the large +French wards there was a small room holding eight +beds, and a nun brought me in one day to see the curious +occupants ranged in beds alongside each other. There +were a Senegalese, an Algerian, a Zouave, an Alpine +Chasseur, a Turco, a native of Madagascar, a man of +the Foreign legion, and a Frenchman. I think that the +nuns always kept this ward “International.” It was +their little joke, and visitors were always shown this +ward. The patients themselves enjoyed the <i>mélange</i>. +The courtyard of the hospital was a great meeting-place +for our convalescent soldiers with the French convalescents, +and they used to sit about on benches +surrounded by an admiring lot of French women from +the town. We also had a fair number of German +wounded on our hands, and one of them at this time +was terribly ill, suffering from the after-effects of gas +gangrene of the foot following on a bullet wound of the +ankle joint. His foot was amputated, and he had a +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_196">[196]</span>struggle for some days to keep going, but eventually +pulled through. The wounded German soldiers were +very tractable and easy to manage. They were obedient, +gave no trouble, and seemed grateful. I cannot say the +same of the two wounded German officers I had. Both +were slight wounds, and ought not really to have been +sent to this hospital at all. They were truculent and +overbearing to the nuns and orderlies, and behaved +like cads. The German has no sense of humour. He +takes himself very seriously, and that amuses us. He +thinks and says that we are fools, and that also amuses +us. A German once said that the English would always +be fools, and that the Germans would never be gentlemen. +This is most obviously correct. We asked a +German sergeant-major who had been captured if the +Hymn of Hate was really popular in Germany. The +sergeant-major in civil life was a school teacher. He +wore big spectacles and had a rough beard, and was +altogether a very serious-minded man. He assured us +that the German hate was a very real one, and he took +the hymn very seriously. Lissauer, its author, is said +to be a serious man also, and has he not been awarded +the Cross of the Red Eagle by the All Highest himself? +We laugh at the hymn, and this makes the German +mad. Certainly we must be fools to laugh at the +Hymn of Hate. The words inspire and enthral the +Teuton, and the music uplifts his sentimental soul to +the Empyrean.</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“We love as one, we hate as one.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">We have one foe, and one alone—England.”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_197">[197]</span></p> + +<p>The German considers this to be a purely German +hymn, breathing the spirit of the Fatherland—unending +hate. It is his song, and to sing it does him good. +You can then understand the expression of blank +amazement on the face of our captured schoolmaster—the +sergeant-major with the spectacles and beard—when +he was told that the Hymn of Hate was sung with +gusto in the music halls of London and Paris, and was +received by the audience with shrieking sounds of +applause.</p> + +<p>The Hymn of Hate sung by an Englishman in an +English music hall! Donnerwetter! He could not +understand. He had no sense of humour.</p> + +<p>A Prussian officer was captured in November with +about fifteen men, and I saw him marched in shortly +after the capture. He looked arrogant, and one instinctively +took a dislike to him, he was so obviously +stamped “bounder.”</p> + +<p>His revolver was in its pouch on his belt. We had +forgotten to take it, and he had forgotten that it was +there. Our prisoner spoke English very well, and said +that “he wished he had been shot. He was for ever +and ever disgraced at being made a prisoner. His +regiment would not have him again as an officer.” +The impression we formed, who were standing +round listening, was that this whining bounder seemed +to feel it a particular disgrace to be a prisoner of the +hated English. An English officer in charge at this +particular place here went up to our snarling Prussian +who wished “that he had been killed” and said: “I +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_198">[198]</span>see we have omitted to take over your revolver. It +is still in your pouch and probably loaded—sure to be. +You say you are sorry you were not killed. Well, go +off five paces over there and blow your damned head +off with your own gun. I won’t interfere with you, +and none of us will mourn for you.” The Prussian +shut up like an oyster. We all laughed, and the +soldiers round enjoyed it hugely. The eyes of the +man blazed with fury, but he made no movement +towards that five paces off, and handed over his revolver +to our English officer, who refused to touch it, +and called on a soldier to take it.</p> + +<p>The Prussian did not see the humour of the situation, +and “there’s the humour on’t” old Falstaff would +have said.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus22" style="max-width: 43.75em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus22.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption> + <p><span class="smcap">Trenches in Flanders.</span></p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>A few days after the sinking of the <i>Emden</i> the news +reached the British and French in the trenches. The +French were as delighted as we were. In the Argonne +an advanced French trench was separated by only the +width of a road from an advanced German trench. +The officer in command of the French trench wrote out +the news of the <i>Emden</i> fight on a piece of paper and +tied this paper round a stone, which he flung into the +German trench. It was received with guttural cries +of annoyance. Shortly after this time from the German +trench came another stone with a piece of paper inscribed, +“Monsieur, go to Hell.” The French officer, +ever polite and determined to have the last word, sent +back this note:</p> + +<blockquote> + +<p>“<span class="smcap">Dear Bosches</span>,—I have been to many places. I +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_199">[199]</span>have been invited to visit many places in my time, but +this is the first time that I have been invited to visit +the German headquarters.”</p> + +</blockquote> + +<p>There is a society in London called the “Society +for Lonely Soldiers.” Its object is to be of some +assistance to soldiers who have no relations or friends +and are quite alone in the world. A young lady of this +society sent a parcel of comforts to the British prison +camp in Germany, and addressed the parcel to “The +loneliest British soldier in Germany.”</p> + +<p>Some weeks afterwards a reply was received from +the German officer in command of the camp. “Madam, +your gifts have been impartially distributed amongst all +the prisoners. We were unable to decide which was +the <i>loveliest</i> British soldier in camp.” Imagine a +spectacled old German officer methodically scrutinising +all the British prisoners to ascertain which was the +“loveliest” one!</p> + +<p>Apropos of humour, read this incident reported by +“Eye-witness” from the front. “One wounded +Prussian officer of a particularly offensive and truculent +type, which is not uncommon, expressed the greatest +contempt for our methods: ‘You do not fight. You +murder!’ he said. ‘If it had been straightforward, +honest fighting we should have beaten you, but my +regiment never had a chance from the first. There +was a shell every ten yards. Nothing could live in +such a fire.’”</p> + +<p>This from one of the apostles of frightfulness!</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_200">[200]</span></p> + +<p>Now read this concluding sentence in a letter from +a German lady of high social position to a Russian +lady:</p> + +<p>“We wish to carry in our hearts an undying hatred, +and we utterly reject all useless verbiage on ‘humanity.’</p> + +<p>“To mothers and to German women this hate gives a +sort of satisfaction without which our hearts would not +be able to support,” etc. etc.</p> + +<p>Read this order of the day, dated 26th August 1914, +from General Stenger, Brigadier of the 88th Brigade, +14th Baden Army Corps. (This document is quite +authentic, and is at present in the hands of the +French War Office.) This is the translation: “The +Brigade on setting out to-day will make no prisoners; all +prisoners will be killed. The wounded, with or without +arms, will be put to death. Prisoners, even in +large organised units, will be put to death. No living +man must remain in our rear.”</p> + +<p>More will be heard of this document at the end of +the war. It is a prized possession of the French just +now.</p> + +<p>Yet our wounded Prussian officer, as related above, +objected to our murderous artillery fire, and said that +“we do not fight, we murder.” In spite of the tragic +side the incident has some humour.</p> + +<p>Dr. Ludwig Ganghofer, a Bavarian Court journalist, +recently described a visit which he had paid to a +German hospital in Lille. He there saw some wounded +British prisoners. Two caught his eye, and thus he +writes:</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_201">[201]</span></p> + +<p>“As I regarded these two sulky pups of the British +lion, I had a feeling as if every hair on my head stood +on end. This unpleasant irritation only ceased when +I had turned my German back on the sons of civilised +Albion, and looked again at suffering human beings.”</p> + +<p>“Suffering human beings” is good; our two unfortunate +countrymen were not human beings. They +were pups of the British lion—young lions, in fact. +The German appellation for us is improving. Some +weeks ago we were “Swine dogs,” now we are “Young +lions.” Ganghofer is the Bavarian Court journalist. +One wonders if that feudal power keeps a court jester.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_202">[202]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVI">CHAPTER XVI.<br> +<span class="smaller">SOME MEDICAL ODDS AND ENDS.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<h3>FUNCTIONAL BLINDNESS.</h3> + +<p>At Bethune some of us met for the first time in this +war cases of functional temporary blindness, and many +other cases were met with at various points of the +front.</p> + +<p>The following example will give an idea of the +condition. A young officer, nineteen years of age, +was standing by a haystack in the north of France +when a large Black Maria burst near him, rolled him +over, and plastered him with clay, but did not kill him. +The <i>concussion</i> had thrown him down. He remained +unconscious for half an hour, and when he woke to +consciousness he discovered he was “blind.” His +mental state then was terrible. He cried out, “Oh, why +wasn’t I killed?” “Won’t some one carry me out and +put me on the parapet of a trench so that I may be +killed?” His grief was pathetic, and one can easily +understand it. A careful examination was made of +the interior of the eyes with the ophthalmoscope and +nothing was found wrong. He was assured by the +medical officers that he would certainly recover after +perhaps a week or two of blindness. He was quiet +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_203">[203]</span>and composed after this, but was a little bit suspicious +that we were only trying to cheer him up. One medical +officer then explained to him what sort of blindness it +was: that it was due to concussion of the nerve of sight, +and the delicate structures at the ball of the eye; that +nothing was destroyed, and that a complete rest would +bring back his vision. Next day he was transferred +by hospital train to the Base <i>en route</i> for England. +This note, unknown to him, was pinned on his coat: +“Functional blindness. Any medical officer handling +this officer on Hospital Train, Base Hospital, or Hospital +Ship, please tell him that he will fully recover his sight.” +Knowing the kind-hearted nature of the medical profession, +one can be sure that he was cheered up all the +way to England. I received a letter from this officer’s +mother some weeks after, saying that her son had +completely recovered his vision, and was as well as +ever.</p> + +<h3>NERVE CONCUSSION</h3> + +<p>Nerve concussion is a pathological condition that +has received more attention in this war than at any +previous time. A young Fusilier at La Bassée was +hit by a bullet through the fleshy part of the forearm. +The wound was a purely flesh one and no important +nerve could have been struck. He had paralysis of +the wrist and hand, due to concussion of the important +nerves of the forearm. The bullet in its course did not +strike these nerves. He got completely better in eight +weeks.</p> + +<p>A Gordon Highlander was struck by a bullet in the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_204">[204]</span>right buttock. No important nerve was struck, yet +he had paralysis of the limb owing to concussion of the +sciatic nerve. He got better by rest in bed and massage +of the muscles. A soldier of the Wiltshire Regiment +was rolled over by the concussion of a bursting shell. +He retained consciousness, but could not get up or move +his right arm. The right side of his body was paralysed. +He got better by rest. A Bedfordshire sergeant got a +bullet wound through the upper arm, and paralysis of +certain muscles supplied by nerves in the vicinity of the +track of the bullet. It was thought that the nerves +were divided, and after the wound had healed the nerves +were exposed at an operation intending to join the +severed ends. The nerves were found to be uninjured, +and the incision in the skin was closed up. He made +a complete recovery.</p> + +<p>There is also the story of the soldier who suddenly +recovered his voice in the presence of King George. +The story is going the rounds of the hospitals, and it is +said that His Majesty was extraordinarily interested +in the phenomenon. This soldier was taken prisoner +by the Germans during our retreat from Belgium. +He was picked off the field in a dazed condition and +unable to speak. He was interned later in a prison +camp in Germany and was all this time quite unable +to speak. When the exchange of permanently disabled +prisoners of war was recently made between England +and Germany, this man was sent back as permanently +incapacitated on account of being dumb. He was +admitted to a hospital near London. One day the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_205">[205]</span>King visited the hospital, and this man on getting +up from his chair as the King entered the ward, inadvertently +touched a heating pipe which was then +very hot. He at once exclaimed “Damn,” and was +able to speak perfectly afterwards. The King was +very much interested. Was this an hysterical loss of +voice or a concussion? It was a mental shock of some +kind, and the recovery was due to the other shock of +touching a hot pipe.</p> + +<p>I attended one young officer and three men who had +been buried in the earth when their trench was blown +up. The officer and one man were unconscious, and +when the man recovered consciousness he was nervy +and excitable. He had a startled, terrified expression, +and when in bed he would peer round in a wild, anxious +way, and then suddenly pull the blankets well over +his head and curl up underneath as if anxious to shut +out his surroundings, or what he thought were his +surroundings. He seemed really to be living +through some terrifying experiences of the past few +days antecedent and up to the time when his +trench was blown up and he was engulfed in the mud +and <i>débris</i>.</p> + +<p>The officer recovered consciousness more slowly, and +spoke in a curious staccato speech; his nerves were +completely gone, and he had fine tremors of the +lips and tongue and fingers. He told me that his +memory had gone, that he had only a hazy recollection +of recent things, which seemed far away +and dim.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_206">[206]</span></p> + +<h3>DEAF MUTISM.</h3> + +<p>Several cases of deaf mutism have occurred during +the hard fighting near Ypres and La Bassée, and these +are certainly very curious. The men so afflicted have +written down that shells burst near them, that they +were thrown down, and remembered nothing more for +a time. On coming to again, they were deaf and dumb. +These men also show other signs of nerve shock; they +are restless, troubled with sleeplessness, and have +anxious expressions. Generally all get completely well +in a few weeks, but some of the cases remain mute for a +much longer time.</p> + +<h3>LICE.</h3> + +<p>The medical officer at the front to-day has other +duties besides those of attending to the sick and +wounded. He is concerned with the prevention of +disease, with water supplies, sanitation of billeting +areas and camps, means to prevent frostbite, and so on. +He has also to advise on methods of treating and +avoiding vermin. Lice are, without a doubt, one of the +terrors of war. These little beasts are not harmless. +They take a high place in the sphere of destructive +agents. I would group them in the class with shrapnel +bombs and high explosives. Wherever many men are +gathered closely together, and hygienic laws, owing to +military needs, are in temporary abeyance, there will +lice be found, constituting themselves one of the terrors +of war. Officers and men get them, and once these +pests gain entry to one’s wardrobe they entrench +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_207">[207]</span>themselves in their battalions and divisions, and require +very drastic efforts to dislodge. In the early fighting +in Flanders and in Northern France, on the Marne +and Aisne, these beasts gave us great trouble. They +are most active at night when one gets warm in bed. +It is not the bite that counts, but, as the old French +Countess once expressed it to a Minister of State, it +is “toujours le promenade.” The promenading +causes irritation and insomnia. Scratching produces +excoriations of the skin, and then a whole lot of sequent +complications. Lice are factors in the spread of +typhus fever, and when typhus visits an army in the +field it carries death and desolation to thousands. +To illustrate the point read this extract from a letter +written from an English hospital in Serbia: “The +great scourge of this country is typhus fever. It was +introduced by the Austrian prisoners at Christmas. +Out of 2500 Austrian prisoners at Uskub, 1000 had died +of fever and 1200 were down with it. It is a terrible +disease, and is carried not by infection but by lice. +One has to take tremendous precautions to avoid these +creatures.”</p> + +<p>The majority of our wounded taken from the +fighting line at La Bassée to the hospital at Bethune +were infested with lice. Lice invaded the clothing +of all who handled these poor fellows, and very drastic +measures had to be taken to combat the scourge.</p> + +<p>The following story will illustrate the vitality of +these nasty little beasts. Our Field Ambulance once +stopped at a small town in Northern France and was +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_208">[208]</span>billeted in a French convent. The good sisters allowed +us the use of the schoolrooms, the kitchen, and some of +the bedrooms. All the officers were anxious to get their +shirts and linen washed. The laundrywoman duly +appeared and boiled all these articles, and the sisters +ironed them for us. On the afternoon of the ironing +the Mother Superior and two sisters came to us in a +state of excitement, talking rapidly, and evidently +overcome with amazement. They explained that our +shirts had been boiled and then dried in the open air. +When they began to iron the necks of our shirts the +lice sprang to life and were exceedingly active. They +assured us solemnly that scores sprang to active life +under the comfortable warmth of the hot iron. I do +not doubt the story. The heat had matured the +chitinous envelope in which the young lice lay, and +out they came, joyous, active, and sportive on the nice +warm surface. Hence the amazement, the uplifted +hands, and the consternation of the good sisters. The +riddle of their extermination has not yet been completely +solved, but measures are in active progress. +It is an unsavoury subject, but it is a very important +one for troops in camp and in the field.</p> + +<h3>SHELL FUMES.</h3> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“Thou shalt not kill,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">But do not strive</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Officiously to keep alive.”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>A great deal has been written on the effect of shell +fumes in this war. So much is hearsay and so little +really authentic, that one cannot dogmatise.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_209">[209]</span></p> + +<p>One naval surgeon said that men exposed to fumes +of bursting shells develop acute pneumonia, which +proves fatal as a rule. This is supposed to be due to +the nitric peroxide produced by the explosion.</p> + +<p>Artillery officers have told me that stories were going +the round of the batteries that the Germans fired +certain shells at our aeroplanes which, on bursting, +set free certain gases which intoxicated the +aviators.</p> + +<p>A French gunner-major circumstantially related +that a German trench which had been heavily shelled +with turpinite shells was found full of dead Germans, +standing or sitting in life-like attitudes and with faces +<i>quite black</i>. He said that the look-out man was lying +in his natural attitude holding field-glasses to his eyes. +He was apparently alive, but was really dead, stiff, +and with black face and hands. These statements +have not been confirmed, but the stories of similar +incidents are many. There is no doubt that lyddite +and melinite fumes can, when inhaled, produce sudden +poisonous changes. I have myself seen British soldiers +and German prisoners, after having been exposed to +these fumes, come in with deeply yellow jaundiced +skin. One man, in fact, looked exactly like a man +suffering from acute jaundice.</p> + +<p>It is also said that the fumes induce drowsiness. +Turpinite shells were employed at one stage of the war +and are to be employed again. M. Turpin has recently +been at the front with a French battery. Certainly +turpinite does emit dangerous fumes. Many believe +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_210">[210]</span>that it is some form of cyanogen gas—allied to prussic +acid.</p> + +<p class="tb">The force of these high explosives is well illustrated +by an occurrence of 25th January. Previous to making +an assault the Germans fired a mine under our front +trench near the railway east of Cuinchy. The explosion +hurled a piece of rail weighing 25 lbs. a distance +of over a mile, into a field close to where some of our +men were working.</p> + +<p>It is reported that on 1st February the detonation +of one of our lyddite shells in the enemy trenches on +the embankment south of the canal, threw a German +soldier right across the railway and the canal amongst +our men on the north side of the latter.</p> + +<p>At Fort Condé, on the Aisne, the air concussion of a +bursting shell from a French 75 mm. lifted a large +four-wheeled country waggon bodily out of a yard +and planted it on the roof of a barn. The waggon was +not injured. A bursting shell is the very incarnation +of violence. Lord Fisher said that “The Essence of +War is Violence. Moderation in War is Imbecility. +Hit first. Hit hard. Hit everywhere.” The big +shells to-day do all this.</p> + +<p>The fumes emitted by bursting charges of lyddite, +melinite, or turpinite must not be confused with the +poison gases sent out over our men by the Germans. +The lyddite and melinite are put in the shells for a +definite object which is permitted by the Hague Convention, +and by the opinion of mankind generally. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_211">[211]</span>Their object is to burst the shell at the desired time +and distance, and plaster the enemy with the iron or +shrapnel. They are not intended to kill, and do not +kill by poisonous fumes. The German poison gas +is intended to kill, and does produce intolerable agony +and lingering deaths, and for this the German stands +accused before High Heaven.</p> + +<h3>NEURASTHENIA OR “NERVES.”</h3> + +<p>Many officers and some men have been sent back +from the front in France and Flanders suffering from +Nerves. These men are not “nervous” as the public +generally understand that term. They are brave +and courageous men who are anxious to do their duty. +They are, moreover, men who have done their duty +in the face of a determined foe, have endured great +hardships and discomforts in the trenches and batteries, +and have faced death in all the many hellish shapes +that it assumes to-day. I said “many officers and +some men” have been so afflicted, and it is true that +the officer is much more prone to get “nerves” than is +the simple soldier. The life of the officer is one of +responsibility and worry, but the soldier’s mental lot +is simpler—he just does what he is told and has +“not to reason why.” The education and upbringing +of the officer are different, as a rule, from that of the +soldier, and heredity has an influence on a man’s +nervous organisation. In civil life anyone can call to +mind certain boys and girls who are more “nervous” +than others. I do not mean more afraid of danger or +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_212">[212]</span>more effeminate, but more likely to be exalted or +depressed by certain circumstances than their more +stolid neighbours. What is true of homes and of +schools is equally true of nations. Unreal though it +sounds, there is no doubt that the Germans are more +emotional than the French, and German leaders know +full well the emotional side of their people. The German +is easily exalted and can be easily depressed. The +Frenchman can be made furiously angry when he is +affronted or insulted, but he is not easily depressed, +and he is too cautious to be easily exalted. The German +soldier and people must be strengthened and mentally +sustained by stories of German victories and prowess, +but the Frenchman, like the Englishman, is most +formidable when he knows the worst there is to know +and is “up against things.”</p> + +<p>It may be that our officers who develop neurasthenia +at the front are more emotional and imaginative +than those who do not, but they are no less +courageous. An officer was sent to England for +neurasthenia, and felt ashamed to tell his friends that +he was sent back as his “nerve was gone.” He was +not in the list of wounded, yet his brain and nervous +system had received a wound as much as the man with +a bullet-hole through his shoulder, and the treatment +for these “mental wounds” is like that for most other +wounds, “time and rest,” but the mental wound +also requires quietness. The officer with the mental +wound, the nerve shock, the neurasthenia, cannot be +treated successfully in the general wards of a noisy +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_213">[213]</span>hospital. He must be put in quiet and peaceful +surroundings and live in an atmosphere free from +noise, bustle, and commotion. His treatment must +also be directed by physicians who are authorities on +this subject. A successful general practitioner or a +renowned obstetrician are not likely to achieve brilliant +results in treating neurasthenia.</p> + +<p>Fortunately the medical profession has already +arranged special provision for these nerve cases, and +the results, I am sure, will be eminently good.</p> + +<p>At Bethune one able artillery officer was brought into +the Clearing Hospital suffering from neurasthenia. He +had been through the retreat, the fighting on the Marne +and Aisne, and at La Bassée, and had done splendid +service with his battery, and had been promoted. +When I saw him he was walking up and down a room like +a caged animal. I wished him good morning, and he +pulled up suddenly in his stride, gazed at me with widely +open eyes, and replied in a hesitating staccato voice, +“G-g-good m-m-morning, doctor.” He had never +stuttered before. Then away he went up and down +again. I got him to sit down on a box and told him to +light his pipe and talk about himself. He filled his +pipe with difficulty, stuffing the tobacco into the bowl +with trembling and agitated fingers. He broke several +wooden matches in trying to light them. He had lost +the fine, practised discrimination necessary to rub a +match on the side of the box, and he “jabbed” his +match hard on it. I lit a match and gave it to him, as I +was interested to see how he would light the pipe. He +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_214">[214]</span>let that match fall. I lit another, and with this he +burned his finger. I then held a lighted match over +his pipe, and in a jerky way he managed to light the +tobacco; but he could not smoke properly, and the pipe +soon went out. In the same jerky way he told me that he +was forty-four years of age and had never been ill before. +He was a good rifle shot, and had killed big game in +India. He was a fair billiard player, and had been a +temperate man all his life in all things. Talking +in his spasmodic fashion, he had to stop for a word, +and he then waved his hand about and frowned, as if +angry with himself for having forgotten it. Up till a +week ago he had been in perfect health, although the +“strain” of the war had been tremendous; then one +of his brother officers and a sergeant had been killed +close beside him, and his guns had to be moved to another +position under a heavy fire. He could not sleep +that night, and the firing of the guns, which previously +had not troubled him in the least, now worried him. +Next day he could not eat. In a few days he was a +physical and mental wreck. He was sent to England, +and I heard that he had made a complete recovery.</p> + +<p>One officer developed neurasthenia on the Aisne. +His regiment had done brilliantly, but had suffered +severe losses. The officer said that he was going to +blow his brains out, so he was invalided into the hands +of the doctors and later made a good recovery. He +was suffering from the effects of strain and mental +shock.</p> + +<p>Another officer on the staff was standing close by his +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_215">[215]</span>chief when a shell fell near, killing his chief outright. +The staff officer had to be sent home for neurasthenia.</p> + +<p>Our wounded often show signs of neurasthenia. +I well remember at the hospital at Bethune one man who +had had to have his arm off at the shoulder joint for a +bad shrapnel wound. He was dangerously ill and semi-conscious +for several days. When he had fully roused +to his surroundings and the knowledge of his weakness +he was like a little child, crying and begging me +to get him away from the sound of the firing. He said +that he would be happy if only he could get away to +some place where he would not hear the sound of the +guns. On the day the German aeroplane dropped a +bomb near the hospital the windows of the building +shook and rattled with the concussion, and this poor +devil screamed aloud with terror and tried to get out of +bed and crawl away—anywhere from the sound of the +firing.</p> + +<p>The French nursing sisters told me that the wounded +Frenchmen work themselves into a terrible state of +excitement in hospital when the firing is very brisk. +They beg and beg to be taken away to the south of +France, as far away as possible from the sound of conflict.</p> + +<p>These were all brave men with injured nervous +systems.</p> + +<h3>SMALL ARM AMMUNITION.</h3> + +<p>The Germans have charged the British, French, +Russians, and Belgians with using Dum-Dum bullets. +The Austrians have made the same charge against the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_216">[216]</span>Serbians and Montenegrins. The Triple Entente and its +Allies have accused the Germans and Austrians of firing +Dum-Dum bullets—so there you are.</p> + +<p>The Dum-Dum bullet was first made at Dum-Dum, +near Calcutta. It was a Lee-Enfield bullet with an +imperfect nickel sheath. This nickel or cupro-nickel +sheath in the Dum-Dum stops at the “shoulder” of +the bullet, and the point is therefore bare lead, a continuation +of the core of the bullet. Some modifications +of the Dum-Dum exist. By rubbing the point of a nickel-coated +Lee-Enfield bullet on a rough stone the cover is +rubbed off, exposing the core of lead. A saw or file can +make incisions in the long axis of the bullet exposing +the lead this way, but leaving the tip covered with +nickel. The destiny of a Dum-Dum is to break up when +it strikes a bone. If it strikes a bone at a high rate of +velocity it fragments and rips and tears the bone and +surrounding soft structures. It is supposed to have +greater “stopping power” against an infantry charge +than an undeformed bullet. This supposition is incorrect. +Certainly a Dum-Dum in traversing a limb or +the chest can cause terrible and widespread destruction. +In wounds inflicted by a Dum-Dum bits of the lead core +and casing are scattered in various directions. But,—and +this is important,—the same thing can be found +in a wound inflicted by an undeformed Lee-Metford, +Lebel, or Mauser bullet. The only certain proof of the +employment of the Dum-Dums is to find them in the +trenches captured from the enemy, or in the cartridge +belts of wounded or prisoners. Again, a man may +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_217">[217]</span>have a bullet wound with a small entrance hole and +a large, gaping, jagged exit. One unaccustomed to +bullet wounds would immediately say that such a wound +was caused by an explosive bullet. But it can be caused +by the ordinary Lee-Metford, Lebel, and Mauser bullets. +I have seen these wounds frequently amongst Germans, +French, and British. The explanation is that the bullet +on striking a bone often carries along with it a fragment, +large or small, and it is this fragment of bone that tears +out a passage to the exit wound. The German bullet +is easily extracted from the cartridge. It is almost +impossible to extract the Lee-Metford bullet without +strong instruments. The Germans have made use of this +fact to extract the bullet from the cartridge and put it +back “upside down,” that is, with the nickel point inside +the metal cartridge case, and the base with its exposed +lead core outwards. Such a bullet on striking a bone +expands and fragments, and causes great damage. +I am not repeating a rumour when I make this statement. +I have seen these cartridges with the inverted +bullets in the belts of German prisoners captured in the +trenches. Other surgeons have seen them also. The +French say that it is a common practice amongst the +Germans, and so did our men at Ypres. One German +prisoner on the Yser when confronted with these bullets +taken from his own belt, admitted having used them. +He said that his company officer told him that they were +useful to break down barbed-wire entanglements!</p> + +<p>There is one interesting point about the German +bullet, and that is its property of spinning on its short +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_218">[218]</span>axis when it strikes an object. The centre of gravity +of the German bullet is low down on its base, owing to its +long and tapering shoulder. It therefore turns over on +reaching its object. I had on the Aisne one man of the +Norfolk Regiment admitted with a tiny entrance wound +between the great and second toes of the foot. The +bullet was found lodged in the large heel bone, and its +base was facing towards the entrance wound. It could +not have entered the foot in that position, because the +entrance wound was too small. A bullet spinning +round when traversing a limb can cause considerably +more damage than one that pursues a direct course, +and this fact is important in brain injuries. The bullet +penetrates the skull by a small punctured opening, and +then whirls round and round inside the brain. It +may then again strike the bone on the other side with its +long axis and cause considerable shattering and bleeding. +This spinning action of the Mauser was a thing that +every surgeon had to remember when treating his +wounded.</p> + +<p>The Hague Convention of 1907 prohibits “the use +of projectiles calculated to cause unnecessary suffering.” +The Hague Declarations of 1899 decide to “abstain +from the use of bullets which expand or flatten easily +in the human body,” such as bullets with a hard envelope +which does not entirely cover the core or is pierced with +incisions. The St. Petersburg Declaration of 1868 +agrees to abolish the use of “any projectile of a weight +below 400 grams which is either explosive or charged +with fulminating or inflammable substances.”</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_219">[219]</span></p> + +<p>The <i>British Medical Journal</i> of 21st November 1914 +reports as follows on the subject of small arm ammunition:</p> + +<p>The British service ammunition is known technically +as Mark <span class="allsmcap">VII.</span> ·303 S.A. Ammunition. The length of +the bullet is 1·28 inches; weight, 174 grains; muzzle +velocity, 2440 feet per second. The bullet is a pointed +one with an envelope of cupro-nickel which completely +covers the core except at the base. The ordinary +German service ammunition is very similar. Length of +bullet, 1·105 inches; weight, 154 grains; muzzle +velocity, 2970 feet per second. This bullet is pointed, +with a steel envelope coated with cupro-nickel covering +the cone except at the base. Both bullets carry out +the provisions of the Hague Convention.</p> + +<p>There is clear evidence that Germany has not +confined herself solely to this unobjectionable ammunition. +Her troops, both in Togoland and in France, +have been proved to have used bullets with a soft core +and hard, thin envelope not entirely covering the core, +which type of bullet is expanding and therefore expressly +prohibited by the Hague Convention.</p> + +<p>Such bullets, of no less than three types, were found +on the bodies of dead native soldiers serving with the +German armed forces against British troops in Togoland +in August, and on the persons of German, European, +and native armed troops captured by us in that colony. +All the British wounded treated in the British hospitals +during the operations in Togoland were wounded by +soft-nosed bullets of large calibre, and the injuries which +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_220">[220]</span>these projectiles inflicted, in marked contrast to those +treated by the British medical staff amongst the German +wounded, were extremely severe, bones being shattered +and the tissue so extensively damaged that amputation +had to be performed. The use of these bullets was the +subject of a written protest by the general officer +commanding the British troops in Nigeria to the German +acting governor of Togoland.</p> + +<p>Again at Gundelu, in France, on 19th September +1914, soft-nosed bullets were found on the dead bodies +of German soldiers of the Landwehr, and on the persons +of soldiers of the Landwehr made prisoners of war by +the British troops. One of these bullets has reached +the War Office. It is undoubtedly expanding and +directly prohibited by the Hague Convention. I am +sure that Germany will be terribly upset at this, for +Germany, we know, pays great respect to the articles +of the Hague Convention!</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_221">[221]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVII">CHAPTER XVII.<br> +<span class="smaller">WE LEAVE BETHUNE.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>One afternoon a German aeroplane dropped a bomb at +the hospital gate, and a second one on a house near the +gate. They burst with a terrific crash, shook the +building and rattled the glass and startled us all. The +same voyaging Taube dropped another bomb in the +square of the city, and an old woman, a man, and a +baby were struck. The old lady had to have her leg +amputated and died on the succeeding day; the man +received a shell wound in the back of the head and he +died a few days afterwards; the baby was injured in +the stomach and also died next day. One of our Army +Service Corps men was struck by a piece of shell on the +leg and received a serious wound. A corporal of the +Army Service ran upstairs to me in the ward where I +was busy dressing some cases and excitedly told me +that his back was broken and that he thought he would +soon be paralysed. We undressed him and found that +a small piece of shell had made a slight wound on the +muscles of the back, but that he was otherwise all right. +He was reassured about the paralysis and the broken +back. Two days afterwards another German aeroplane—or +it may have been the same beast that had visited +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_222">[222]</span>us before—flew over the city and dropped some more +bombs, killing some unfortunate people and injuring +others.</p> + +<p>On the following morning at three o’clock I was in +one of the wards admitting some wounded men just in +from the trenches, when the unmistakable burst of a +Black Maria was heard close at hand. The shell had +burst not far from the hospital, and was followed by +two more, one near the railway station, and one near +the college not far away. The Germans had the range +perfectly, and we expected a big bombardment. The +authorities decided that Bethune was no longer a safe +place for our Clearing Hospitals, and we were ordered +to prepare for the evacuation of our wounded as soon +as possible. This was soon done, and all were conveyed +by ambulance motors to the hospital trains, with the +exception of seven men. These men were all dying +from severe injuries to the brain, and no good would +be served by sending them down to the Base. So the +seven poor fellows were put in beds alongside each +other in one ward, and in three days they were dead, +and buried in the now well-filled cemetery at Bethune.</p> + +<p>The two Clearing Hospitals in the city—British and +Indian—were sent to Chocques, near Lillers.</p> + +<p>It was with a little heartache that I left Bethune +and its good sisters. We had passed through days and +nights of racking work and worry, and we had the +satisfaction of feeling that we had all done our best. +It is mournful to leave a place associated with many +stirring episodes and with many warm friendships, for +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_223">[223]</span>in times like those at Bethune firm friendships were +quickly made. In saying good-bye one seems to leave +them behind for ever—and that is always sad.</p> + +<p>The nuns at this hospital were simply splendid all +through, and I can quite understand how the religious +sisters have come to their own again in France.</p> + +<p>From the earliest times and up till about eight years +ago all the nursing in the French hospitals was done +by sisters belonging to the various religious orders. +Then came one of the big political upheavals for which +France has been so noted in the past, and the nursing +sisters gradually disappeared from the hospitals owing +to the hostility of the State to the Church and all +connected with it. The nursing sisters of these orders +were at the time of this change well-trained medical +and surgical nurses. As they were no longer able +to exercise their professional skill, and no more +of the younger nuns were trained in nursing, it +followed that on the outbreak of war only the older +nuns were capable of undertaking skilled nursing in +the many hospitals. The demand for nurses was a +clamant one, for from the very beginning of the +war there were large casualties. It was said that the +nursing by the lay sisters who succeeded the religious +sisters was not of such a high order as in the old days +owing to the absence of the strict and rigid discipline, +the very fibre of the life of a sister in religion. I have +heard this both from French surgeons and from visiting +British surgeons.</p> + +<p>When the war broke out France was as ill prepared +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_224">[224]</span>in her military medical branch as we were, and she was +suddenly confronted with the problem of handling and +treating many thousands of wounded.</p> + +<p>M. Clemenceau, an ex-Premier of France and a +Doctor of Medicine, is also the editor of <i>L’Homme +Enchaîné</i>. At the outbreak of war this journal was +known as <i>L’Homme Libre</i>, and Clemenceau so violently +attacked the medical disorganisation and lack of preparation +that the paper was promptly suppressed. It, +however, emerged next day under its new title, <i>The +Man in Chains</i>, and under this title appears daily in +Paris.</p> + +<p>Clemenceau’s efforts, however, were continued, and +France soon had everything in good going order. It +was at this critical phase that the Franciscan sisters, +and the sisters of other religious orders, quietly took +their places beside the wounded French soldiers. Just +as quietly they opened up their convents, churches, +and buildings, warehouses, châteaux, cottages, railway +waiting-rooms, and turned them into hospitals for +the wounded and sick men. Working tirelessly night +and day, knowing no fatigue and shrinking from +no task or danger, and glorying in their mission, they +performed marvels. The younger sisters were put to +subordinate nursing duties, and so rigorously trained +by the elder ones in the principles of nursing.</p> + +<p>These juniors are now very competent nurses, +for they learn quickly amongst the ample material that +war provides. The wounded French soldier loves and +idolises the nursing sister. He demands her presence, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_225">[225]</span>and makes her his confidante. The nun is supremely +happy to be back in her old place, and pets and humours +the wounded soldier, soothes his ardent soul, and, by +her skill, heals his wounds.</p> + +<p>I do not think that any future government of +France will ever dare to oust the religious sisters from +the hospitals. These quiet-voiced, simple-robed women, +carrying help and compassionate pity in the welter of +blood and slaughter, have come “to their own” again.</p> + +<p>When writing of the religious orders one naturally +thinks of the priests of France, and one of the many +interesting and instructive evolutions taking place +during this war is that of the changing relation of the +people and State towards the Catholic Church.</p> + +<p>One has only to be a little time with the French +troops in the field to recognise and be impressed by +their deep attachment to the Catholic Church. I +visited many churches in France and Belgium during +the earlier stages of the war, and at all hours, and have +always found, sometimes few, sometimes many, Belgian +and French soldiers on their knees and devoutly at +prayer in the sacred buildings. Women, of course, +were always to be seen there, but that was not surprising. +It was surprising to see so many soldiers.</p> + +<p>The French soldier takes his religion seriously in +these days, and is not ashamed, whenever the opportunity +occurs, to enter a church and pray. It was +rare to see a khaki soldier praying in church; one often +saw them there on visits of curiosity gazing at the old +windows and old scroll-work of the churches. The +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_226">[226]</span>British soldier will always attend a church parade, +and he will be most reverent during a service, and will +sing lustily and amen loudly; but a church parade is to +him very often a drill, and Tommy cheerfully attends a +drill parade because it is his duty to. In reading +letters from British soldiers at the front and comparing +them with those of French soldiers one cannot help +being struck by the religious serious note pervading +those of the latter, and its absence in the former. It +may be that we are less emotional than the French, +and as a nation are shy of writing of our inner selves. +It was my duty once to censor the letters written by +wounded men in a Clearing Hospital at the front. The +letters were distinctly humorous at times; only two +discussed matters of faith. In one a soldier was writing +to his mother, and he said, “I pray every day as I +promised you to. I pray standing up, and always time +my prayer for three o’clock in the afternoon, for that +is the time when the fellows over the way let off most +of their big guns and rifles at us.” This man was +either a wag and teasing his mother, or he really believed +in the efficacy of surrounding himself with an atmosphere +of prayer when the enemy fire was hottest. +The other fervent letter was from a soldier who had +received a slight shell wound of the scalp. His was +a letter written to a clergyman near London. This +warrior informed the clergyman that he prayed silently +amongst his comrades, and daily read a passage out +of his Testament. The letter ended up by asking +the clergyman to send him some Woodbine cigarettes, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_227">[227]</span>as he, the writer, hadn’t had a smoke for a fortnight +and saw no chance of getting one. I showed this +letter to our field chaplain, who visited this Christian +soldier in the ward. The chaplain told me afterwards +that the man was absolutely destitute of any religious +beliefs, and had never read a Testament in his life; and +furthermore—that he had three packets of Woodbine +cigarettes, and had also smoked a considerable number +during the past fortnight.</p> + +<p>French officers have told me that before the war +it was considered bad form for a military officer to +attend Mass, and that an officer who attended Mass +regularly need not expect promotion in the Army. +Attending Mass is not considered bad form to-day, and +soldiers of all grades from general to grenadier attend +the services in the field. Was the religious trait there +all the time, and only held back by the conventional +strictness, or has the seriousness of the war compelled +a little self-analysis and a return to the faith of their +fathers? My impression is that the priests and the +nursing sisters of the religious orders have helped to +stir up this present state amongst a people who have +always been, deep down, much attached to their Church +and its religious observances. Even the Reign of +Terror could not stamp out the influence of the Church +in France, although it turned churches into meat marts +and blacksmiths’ forges, and plastered their walls with +“Liberté, Egalité, Fraternité.” The French priest has +no official status in the State. He is simply a citizen, +and is liable, like all other citizens, to be mobilised for +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_228">[228]</span>military duty. Over 20,000 French priests and brothers +of various orders are serving with the French colours +in this war. I have spoken to French priests about +this law that compels them to serve as soldiers. They +do not cavil at it, and, in fact, prefer to act the patriot’s +part, for the priest is every bit a good Frenchman. +Be the priest a simple soldier in the trenches, with +battery, commissariat, ammunition, or brancardiers, he +is nevertheless still a priest, and is at all times ready +and eager to exercise his priestly duties. He has +proved himself time and time again to be a cool, intrepid, +and reliable soldier, and he has also proved himself +in the hour of trial a comfort and spiritual help to those +about to die. One has heard of hundreds of instances +in this war when the priest, serving as soldier in the +ranks, has conducted Mass in some broken-down +cottage or barn in the firing zone, buried his dead +comrades with the rites of the Church, and carried +out the last offices to the dying. One of the ablest of +the French artillery officers, now in charge of a battery, +is a priest, and in times of peace is a well-known Abbé +and writer on theology. Another learned Abbé and +a great preacher was mobilised in July, and was badly +wounded at Charleroi. When lying stricken on the +ground he heard a mortally wounded soldier calling +him. The Abbé painfully crawled to the dying soldier +and administered the last office, and while doing so +was again wounded. He was later on conveyed by +hospital train to Paris. President Poincaré had heard +the story, and met the train on its arrival in Paris. He +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_229">[229]</span>went into the carriage where lay the badly wounded +and apparently dying Abbé, and decorated him with the +Legion d’Honneur. I am glad to say that the Abbé, +although now a cripple, recovered from his wounds.</p> + +<p>The Aumonier to the French Hospital at Bethune +was a very fine priest. He was not mobilised as a +soldier owing to defective vision, but he acted as priest +and as a stretcher-bearer to the hospital. His lifelong +friend, another priest and lecturer on Natural +History at the College at Bethune, was fighting as a +private in the Argonne. One day the Abbé told me +that he had received a letter from his friend describing +his life in the trenches, saying, “I live the life of a +rabbit. I live in a hole in the ground. At night I +come out to feed.”</p> + +<p>A few days after this the Abbé heard that his friend +was killed—shot dead through the head. When the +Abbé told me of this I murmured the usual, “Hard +luck.”</p> + +<p>“No,” said the Abbé, becoming very serious. “It +is not what you call the Hard Luck. It is the good +luck. It is how a good priest would wish to die.”</p> + +<p>It has been asked many times during this war, +“What is Christianity doing after the past 1900 years?” +and many have answered, “Crucified men and women. +Mutilated prisoners of war. Outraged women and +slaughtered children. Cities and towns in ashes. +Misery, tears, and the moaning of millions.” If this is +the indictment, it is not against Christianity, but +against one people only, that of Lutheran Germany. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_230">[230]</span>But these hellish deeds of “Christian” Germany have +but served to bring more clearly and brightly into view +the Christian spirit of other peoples’ brotherliness, +help for the distressed, and that</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“Kindness in another’s trouble,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Courage in your own.”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>The Belgian and French soldiers fighting at first to +defend their homes, their women, and their children +and old men, and fighting now for vengeance to punish +the bloody invaders, are examples of a good, healthy +Christianity.</p> + +<p>The open, warm welcome of France and England +to the Belgian refugees, the colossal funds for the +alleviation of distress, and helping of the wounded and +the sick, show that the “greatest of these,” Charity, is +not yet dead on the earth.</p> + +<p>Our definition of “Christianity” depends upon the +point of view. To me the Turco and the Gurkha are +very good Christians and the German nation is infidel. +Every General Order issued by the Kaiser ends not with +an appeal to the Almighty, but with an affirmation +that God is fighting for the German cause.</p> + +<p>The Saxons and Bavarians will sack a town and +inflict nameless horrors on helpless civilians, shoot old +men for sport, kill children, torture women, commit +sacrilege in the churches, smash altars and relics, +destroy historic and beautiful windows and treasures +of art, bayonet priests, violate shrieking nuns, and +with hands smeared in blood they will at the word of +command praise their German God.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_231">[231]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XVIII">CHAPTER XVIII.<br> +<span class="smaller">OVER THE BELGIAN FRONTIER.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>Our Clearing Hospital remained at Chocques for four +or five days, and while here had a fair, but not a large, +number of wounded. These were quickly sent off by +hospital trains, which pulled on to a siding not far from +us. The Indian Clearing Hospital was now also establishing +itself in the small town, and the Indian hospital +assistants were a source of great and wondering curiosity +to the small boys and girls. Our Clearing Hospital +was now ordered to a place farther north, and as I +had only been temporarily attached to it during a +time of great rush at Bethune, my place was now with +my own Field Ambulance at the front, and somewhere +near the Belgian frontier.</p> + +<p>A motor-car going to Hazebrouck gave me a lift +as far as there, and another driver brought me to +Bailleul. Here, after I had reported my arrival, +Surgeon-General Porter informed me of the exact +location of my ambulance.</p> + +<p>Bailleul is a town of considerable importance in +the north of France, and has been the object of many +visits from Taubes, a sure indication that there must +be a church or a hospital in Bailleul. The church +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_232">[232]</span>and the hospital were very close together, and the +Taubes made many a gallant attempt to get them both. +One evening one of them got the hospital—a bomb fell +fair on the roof and into a ward full of wounded men, +killing two and wounding again a man already grievously +wounded. The old church has so far escaped. The +square at Bailleul near the church was a busy place in +those days, as the town was a Divisional Headquarters +and a corps “poste commandement,” and where there +are headquarters and “brass hats” there also are many +rank and file. It was here that, some weeks later, +I saw that fine battalion, the Liverpool Scottish, parade +in the street and march out to the trenches. They +were standing on parade in the street for about twenty +minutes before moving off and the day was bitterly +cold. The bare knees of the men looked blue and the +kilt did not impress us as a good winter dress. Why +Highlanders choose to expose their knees is quite beyond +me. The knee joint is a big and complex anatomical +structure, and is easily affected by sudden changes of +temperature, so why cover up every other joint in the +body and leave this bare?</p> + +<p>Greatly daring though the ladies are to-day in +their draping arrangements, they do not dare to walk +about with bare knees. What prevents them must +certainly be their appreciation of the delicacy of +this joint—the delicate mechanism of an important +articulation.</p> + +<p>Twenty years hence, veterans of the Liverpool +Scottish will tell their children how they got rheumatism +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_233">[233]</span>in their knee joints from the cold mud of the Flanders +trenches in the year of our Lord 1914.</p> + +<p>I left Bailleul on a Red-Cross Wolseley car driven +by a queer character who used to be with us on the +Aisne doing transport work. He was thought to have +been killed and duly buried, and I was therefore agreeably +surprised to see my odd friend again. He was a +wonderfully cheery pessimist. He usually had a long +budget of most depressing news, of disasters by flood +and field, and great disappointments, but he envisaged +them all with a rosy hue and predicted a great to-morrow. +He did not like the war, for although it had +not changed his occupation—that of a chauffeur—it +had seriously affected his emoluments. In the piping +times of peace he would take small parties on touring +journeys in France, Germany, and Switzerland—sometimes +a honeymoon couple, sometimes an American +millionaire, and he did exceedingly well in tips.</p> + +<p>We had a rough passage up from Bailleul and were +twice bogged in the mud beside the road, and had twice +to be hauled out. The roads here, and right over the +frontier into southern Belgium, were very bad in these +days. Our men, when on the Aisne, said many hard +words about the mud there, but the Aisne was an +asphalt path compared with Belgium.</p> + +<p>However, we slowly squelched and skidded our +way over the Belgian frontier and reached Ouderdom, +not very far from Ypres. For the last few miles we +had been following Napoleon’s maxim to his Marshals: +“Marching on the sound of the guns.” The heavy +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_234">[234]</span>artillery, French, British, and German, was making a +deafening roar.</p> + +<p>This really completed the journey from the Aisne +to Flanders. We were at our “farthest north,” and +this journey impressed one with the length of the +huge battle-line, although it only embraced, after all, +a part of the great whole. From Switzerland to the +Channel stretched a wavy line of trenches, across plains, +spanning canals, through and around swamps, in front +of great cities and small villages, traversing great forests +and over mountain passes and peaks. At one end +submerged country flooded by Alpine snow, sand dunes +at the other; and in these trenches lined with soldiers, +and swept by artillery, stern fighting was going on over +practically every mile.</p> + +<p>Our ambulance headquarters was about the most +God-forsaken place that one could possibly imagine. +The first impression one received was a dirty pond, full +of fetid water and surrounded by heaped-up straw +manure. The Belgian, like the Frenchman, loves to +have a manure heap at his front door. Closely abutting +on this putrefactive manure was the cottage itself, +with one front room, a small side-room or box off this +front room, a kitchen, a bedroom, and another box at +the back. From the kitchen a rickety stair led up to +a windy loft full of corn and hops and bags of potatoes.</p> + +<p>Next the living quarters and part of the house came +stalls for cattle, and the <i>tout ensemble</i> was unlovely +and smelly. Twelve medical officers, two chaplains, +and a quartermaster lived in the tiny little front room, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_235">[235]</span>or crowded round a table in it. When the table was in +the room there was barely space to pass between it and +the wall. Six or seven officers slept on the floor of this +den at night, and in the morning had to rise early, roll +up their valises and pack them round the wall. The +O.C. and a chaplain slept in the box off our only room, +and the rest of us slept in the loft amidst the wheat +and hops and the bitter cold draughts.</p> + +<p>Our cooks lived, smoked, worked, and slept in the +kitchen, and this apartment Madame invaded during +the day to do her domestic cooking. Madame “with +the terrible voice” gave our cooks a bad time, and +frequently chased them out and took their pots and pans +off the fire, utterly disorganising our meals.</p> + +<p>Madame was not popular, and in my dreams I sometimes +still hear her raucous voice.</p> + +<p>The Flemish farmer, the proud owner of this very +dirty and uninviting farm, had a family of three little +children, and was besides the humble husband of the +lady whose voice was more terrifying than the screech +of bursting shrapnel.</p> + +<p>Poor Madame, she did not look kindly on us, and we +never even saw her smile—except once, and that story +comes later.</p> + +<p>At 4 a.m. her strident, penetrating tones would +fill the cottage and wake us all to a world of cold and +discomfort, of greasy bacon, muddy tea, and sodden +mousy bread.</p> + +<p>She was watchful and suspicious of our men, who +slept with the poultry in the surrounding stables and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_236">[236]</span>out-houses, and openly accused them of stealing her +straw.</p> + +<p>What they could do with the straw after having +stolen it Madame did not choose to say—perhaps she +thought that they ate it!</p> + +<p>We met many Flemish besides Madame and her +family at this time, and although we sympathised +greatly with them, we could not bring ourselves to like +them. It was all so different with the French, whom we +liked and who liked us. The Flemings did not seem to +care for us; they certainly never made us any demonstrations +of affection. Perhaps it was the difference in +tongue. They spoke French with an Irish-Dutch +brogue, and our accent was, of course, a pure Anglo-Parisian.</p> + +<p>French officers told us here that they did not like the +Flemings, and that the Flemings were not cordial with +them. Belgian officers, it is well known, do not see +eye to eye with the French officers, but pull amazingly +well with the British, to whom they are warm and communicative.</p> + +<p>Tommy Atkins as a rule likes every one, but he neither +understood nor cared for the Flemings. This was quite +noticeable. We found those round Ouderdom, Ypres, +and Dickebusch sullen, dour, and suspicious. We were +not welcomed, and their surly, heavy manner towards +us was very apparent. There was no responsiveness, no +<i>gaieté de cœur</i>, no cheerfulness.</p> + +<p>Historical traditions and the likes and hates of +centuries die hard. The Flemings and the English had +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_237">[237]</span>often been friends in the past, but the French and Flemings +had always been on opposite sides of the fence, and +whenever the French came into the Flemish garden it +was to fight, and not to play.</p> + +<p>We wondered if Madame of our cottage knew her +Belgian history. We were quite sure that she would +have been more amiable and sweet had she known that +Flanders had been England’s ally in the Hundred Years’ +War, and that the bowmen of Mons were more than +once ranged on England’s side; that Baldwin <span class="allsmcap">II.</span>, +Count of Flanders, a former ruler of the land where +stood Madame’s farm, was a son-in-law of Alfred the +Great of England, and that Baldwin <span class="allsmcap">V.</span>, also a Count of +Flanders, was father-in-law to William the Conqueror, +and fitted out Flemish ships to convey Flemish men +to Pevensey to kill Harold’s Anglo-Saxons.</p> + +<p>The Flemings have long memories about the French, +and never forget the “Battle of the Spurs” or the +“Battle of Roosebeke,” for in these two epoch-making +battles the French were the enemy.</p> + +<p>The manifesto issued by the King of the Belgians +to his people at the beginning of the war in August cited +the Battle of the Spurs fought at Courtrai. At this +famous encounter, a band of Flemish artisans and +citizens, armed with billhooks, axes, and scythes, attacked +with the maddest fury a disciplined French army of +steel-clad knights and men-at-arms and utterly defeated +it. This battle reference was hardly quite happy when +Joffre was hurrying his Army Corps over the frontier +to Namur.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_238">[238]</span></p> + +<p>At Roosebeke, in 1382, the French met another +citizen army under Philip van Artevelde, and slew him +and twenty-five thousand men. It is said that Flemish +fathers and mothers handed down this bitter tale to their +children for three centuries, and in later years told of +Cassel, Ramillies, Oudenarde, Malplaquet, Jemappes, +and Waterloo—all glaring instances of French turbulence +on peaceful Flanders land. So the Flemings were distrustful +always of the Gallic cock, and had apparently +forgotten about their connection with our Alfred the +Great and our William of Normandy.</p> + +<p>During our occupation of this mean farmhouse, +situated behind its Flemish manure heap, the weather +was bitingly cold. The rain of the first week was +succeeded by a heavy snow and frost, and as we had no +fire of any sort and were not able to take much physical +exercise, we were all day and night chilled to our very +marrow.</p> + +<p>November 1914 in Flanders will be remembered +by many thousands of Englishmen as a month of intense +and bitter cold, when to the dangers and ever-present +death of the trenches were added the miseries and +tortures of frostbitten feet and legs, and a merciless +cutting wind. This was the period when men, stiffened +and paralysed with cold, had to be pulled out of the +trenches and dragged or carried to the rear to bring +back a slowing circulation to the affected limbs. This +was also the period when men could not be spared +from the firing line, when the Germans were making +those formidable rushes in strong columns, and leaving +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_239">[239]</span>thousands of dead to mark the place where the rush +had been stayed and the column crumpled up.</p> + +<p>The little town of Dickebusch was on the road to our +left, and through it ran a highway to Ypres. Where +the road turned to the right into Ypres was an advanced +station of a Field Ambulance, and, as one of the medical +officers of it was known to me, I walked along this +highway one morning in order to hear the latest news. +He was always a very safe man to call upon for news, +for what he did not know authentically, he would +invent. The road to this advanced station lay behind +several batteries of French “seventy-fives,” the pride +and glory of the French gunner. The road was quite +close to these guns, but they were so wonderfully +concealed with straw and branches of trees that an +ordinary traveller would have passed them by until +their presence was indicated by their mighty roar. +The gunners were hard at it this morning, pouring an +unending string of bursting shells on the German +positions, and the din was terrible.</p> + +<p>Suddenly the Germans got the range of the road. +One shell burst far in front of me on the road, and one +far behind about the same moment, and a bolt for cover +was the immediate sequence. I got into a dug-out +behind some French guns and then witnessed a wonderful +display of artillery practice. Shell after shell fell +with marvellous precision up and down the road, and +one followed the other with a lightning speed. The +road was excavated with volcanic craters, of flying stones +and earth clouds, and mighty showers of <i>débris</i> were +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_240">[240]</span>sprayed tumultuously on every side. A French officer +pointed out where the next shell would land; and he +was always right—he knew the “general idea” possessing +the mind of the German gunner, and correctly +surmised that after the road had been systematically +covered, the firing would cease. It was a big waste +of ammunition, for nothing was damaged except the +road, and the French gunners, as soon as the firing was +over, ran to their pet “seventy-fives” and opened +furiously back in order to show that their bark was as +good as ever. The French batteries at this particular +place did enormous damage to the Germans in their +attacks south of Ypres, and as they are no longer at +this roadside but somewhere farther on, no valuable +information is being given away in relating the fact.</p> + +<p>The French gunners, both at this critical phase of +the war and on the Aisne, were wonderful fellows. +Night and day, in rain, hail, sleet, or snow, their great +guns never stopped. In the blackest night and in +howling gales of sleety wind they could be heard near +by and in the far distance, for ever pounding into the +enemy. This policy of continuous fire is wonderfully +heartening to the French troops in the trenches, and +the moral effect is tremendous. On the Aisne the +French guns were always busy, but the British, alas, +were generally silent. I have heard men on the Aisne +pathetically say, “Why don’t our guns fire?” “Why +don’t they reply to the German fire?” and the questioning +was not confined to soldiers, for it was a common +topic of conversation amongst officers. On the Aisne +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_241">[241]</span>we did not have enough artillery, and we had not +enough ammunition for the artillery we did have. It +was the same at this period at Ypres. England, the +greatest engineering country of the world, the richest +and most prosperous Empire of this or any other +time, made a very poor showing on the Continent. +Small as our army was, it was not equipped perfectly. +Our army in France may have been the “best shooting +army,” but if so it was with the rifle. In artillery we +were entirely outclassed by the Germans and put to +eternal shame by the French. On the Aisne the +Germans had big 8-inch howitzers and we had +nothing to meet them. Against the guns that had +battered the forts of Maubeuge and crumpled up +Namur what had we to offer? Nothing. The Germans +had an unlimited supply of machine-guns on the +Aisne and the Yser, and we had a paltry few. We +were short of ammunition, but the Germans and the +French had plenty.</p> + +<p>When we required high explosive shells to beat +down entrenchments and trenches we had nothing but +shrapnel, which was absolutely useless for this purpose. +Because shrapnel was effective in the South African +War and high explosives unnecessary there, it was +concluded that the same set of circumstances would +be repeated in France and Belgium.</p> + +<p>In September 1914 I saw the four 6-inch howitzer +batteries arrive on the Aisne from England, and the +news of their arrival spread like wildfire amongst our +men, who thought that at last “mighty England was +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_242">[242]</span>sending mighty guns.” They were mighty guns right +enough, but there was not enough ammunition sent +with them. As a nation we always muddle through, +but it is rather pitiful to think that muddles mean the +death of many brave men, and that our woeful lack +of big guns and ammunition has meant many British +graves in France and Flanders.</p> + +<p>A ride through Ypres at this time was an interesting +and exciting affair—interesting from the historic +associations of the old Flemish capital, and exciting +from the German “Black Marias” falling about. The +old Cloth Hall was then still standing—only one corner +and a door had been battered about, but Ypres itself +was very mournful and desolate. A bombarded town, +empty of all its people and with ruins all round where +once was industry, wealth, and moving crowds, presents +a very sad spectacle. I suppose Ypres, stormy as +her history has been in the past, had never been so +empty before. At one time 200,000 people were said +to have lived in Ypres. That was in the days of her +splendour as the ancient capital of Flanders, when +the wonderful Cloth Hall was built by the cloth-workers +of the thirteenth century, in that turbulent +epoch when citizens and workpeople were fighting +down and curbing the old feudal tyranny—for it was +in Belgium that the common people established the +first free city north of the Alps.</p> + +<p>On the ride through this famous old city to our +positions beyond, the terrible evidences of the German +bombardment surrounded one in monumental impressiveness. +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_243">[243]</span>Dead horses were lying in coagulated +pools of blood in every street. Whole rows of old, +closely-built Spanish and Flemish houses and shops +were crumbled and shattered. The <i>pavé</i> was ripped, +torn, and covered with window glass shattered into +millions of fine fragments; roofs had disappeared from +some houses, and walls blown out of others. Tumbled +masonry, smoking ashes, and excavated, torn-up roadways—all +bore witness to the terrible character of the +first German bombardment.</p> + +<p>In one tobacconist’s shop in the square, just +opposite the Cloth Hall, the large plate-glass window had +been completely destroyed, but the shop stood otherwise +uninjured and intact. One could easily have +taken boxes of cigars and pipes by simply putting a +hand through the window-frame in passing, but although +the temptation was there, not one cigar was touched +by a British soldier. Imagine the genial Saxon or the +crucifying Bavarian letting such a chance slip!</p> + +<p>I got off my horse and led it through the street, as +it clearly did not like passing the dead horses on the +roadway. After having tied it to a street-post in front +of a fair-sized hotel or <i>estaminet</i>, I walked into the +front bar-parlour, which was open to the street. The +evidences of a hasty exit were ludicrously patent. A +half-emptied glass of beer and a full one stood close +together on the bar counter, and near them lay a good +pipe full of tobacco which had not been lighted. On +a small table in a corner of the café was a tray with +two large empty clean glasses; on the same table stood +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_244">[244]</span>a bottle of red wine, and close beside it a corkscrew, +holding the impaled extracted cork. One light chair +near this table lay overturned on the floor; the other +had been hastily drawn back, as was shown by the +tracks on the sawdust floor. I thought of Pompeii +when old Vesuvius belched ashes and molten lava and +buried the gay Roman pleasure-city as it stood. The +Pompeian wine-bibbers and “mine host” could not +escape from that engulfing darkness and the fiery cinders, +and perforce died nobly standing by their bottles. +But in that drinking-room at Ypres there was no dying +the death beside the beer and the good red wine. +No Sherlock Holmes was necessary to reconstruct the +picture—the two cronies drinking their morning ale +at the bar, and the two comfortable Yprian burghers +waiting for the filling of their glasses from the bottle +just uncorked, the burly “mine host” in white apron +and with bottle in hand—all suddenly electrified by a +sinister whistling overhead, and then the mighty explosion, +the roar of falling masonry, the smashing of +hundreds of window-panes, the concussion of air; then +another earthquake smash, and then another, till the +house and street were rocking with the shocks. This +was no time to light a pipe, to drink amber beer and +ruddy wine. It was time to get out of Ypres. So +down went the forgotten pipe and bottle, back went +the chairs, and out streamed our terrified quintet to +the tormented street, leaving the room and its contents +as I saw it.</p> + +<p>On approaching the bridge on the far side of the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_245">[245]</span>town I saw the only remaining inhabitant. This was +a middle-aged woman with a grey shawl over her head +and shoulders, and she was looking out of a window +of a partly shattered house. I felt sorry for her, she +looked so very lonely in that broken house.</p> + +<p>That afternoon she was arrested by the Belgians +as a spy. My compassion had been utterly thrown +away.</p> + +<p>Near this same bridge on another occasion my +arrival was providential. An Army Service Corps driver +was speeding his motor towards the city when he was +struck by enemy shrapnel. He had just sufficient +strength to stop his lorry before fainting from the +shock and the rush of blood from a grievous wound of +the right thigh. Blood was pumping out of the wound, +and it appeared as if the femoral artery had been torn. +Fortunately it was not, and we were soon able to control +the hæmorrhage, put the wounded man on his lorry, +and drive him back to one of the ambulance stations in +a cottage near the roadside.</p> + +<p>The road from Ypres to our trenches was a busy +but pathetic highway—busy with marching men, +waggons, gallopers, generals, and staff officers, and +pathetic from the many graves and small graveyards +near the roadside and the many full ambulance waggons +rumbling along on the uneven, jolty <i>pavé</i>.</p> + +<p>The road was frequently visited with enemy shells, +and no one travelled along it unless on business. “Trespassers +will be prosecuted” was an unnecessary injunction +on the Ypres roads.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_246">[246]</span></p> + +<p>The headquarter staff of the 15th Brigade beyond +Ypres had a narrow escape one morning. A big shell +burst in the grounds of the château occupied by the +Brigadier and his staff. The staff, who were in the +building at the time, went out to look at the hole it +had made. Whilst looking at the pit, another shell +landed on the château itself and burst into the room +just vacated by them. A soldier servant was killed and +one staff officer was wounded.</p> + +<p>An advanced ambulance station, with wounded men +and medical officers in it, was struck fairly by another +shell and badly holed, causing loss of life. No place +was safe from these long bowls of the enemy, and +though artillery practice of this sort may not be of +much military importance, it yet produces an air of +uncertainty and caution and jumpiness.</p> + +<p>The country surrounding Ypres and Ypres itself +were very dismal. The old elm trees on the roads, and +the silent, deserted streets were shrouded in a ghostly +veil of melancholy.</p> + +<p>On a subsequent visit to the site of the old Cloth Hall +one saw little more than ruins, for the famous building +had in the interval been correctly ranged by the enemy +guns and duly shattered. Later on more destruction +took place, and visitors of the year 2015 will be shown +some stones and broken pillars, all that was left of a +famous hall which had stood for seven centuries and +had been destroyed “one hundred years ago.”</p> + +<p>When peace comes again to Belgium, Ypres and +its roads, its Hill 60 and its graves will be a place of +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_247">[247]</span>holy pilgrimage to thousands of English, French, and +Germans, for here fell and are buried their bravest +dead.</p> + +<p>But the curious tripper and the Cook’s tourist had +better keep away from Ypres. Let the friends of the +dead and the quiet country folk have the land in their +possession for a season.</p> + +<p>The railway station at Vlamertinge, near Ypres, +frequently had a very fine armoured train in its sidings. +The train was manned by Jack Tars with naval guns, +and the engine and car looked very attractive in a +wonderful coat of futurist colours—splashes of green +and khaki and brown. This <i>H.M.S Chameleon</i> was a +very good cruiser and very nippy in moving across +country. The sailors were very cheerful and seemed +to like their ship amazingly.</p> + +<p>On the roads near our headquarters running from +Renninghelst to Vlamertinge, and hence along the main +highway to Ypres, a large number of Belgian soldiers +were at work repairing the <i>pavé</i> and widening the road +surface by laying prepared trunks of trees laid closely +together in the mud at the sides. They were +fine sturdy men and full of life and cheerfulness, a +different type altogether from the countryfolk we met +in the farms. These were the men who had fought +from Liége to the Yser, and were still on Belgian soil. +They were very bitter about the Germans. They said +that they asked for no quarter and would give none in +the fighting.</p> + +<p>These Belgians on the roads were men who had +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_248">[248]</span>been temporarily sent back to “recuperate,” and while +at this work they enjoyed good food, warm quarters, +and sleep. At eleven o’clock every morning a very fine +motor kitchen would pass along the road. Each man +had his canteen ready, the cook ladled out to him +a good helping of mashed potatoes, boiled mutton, and +thick gravy, and another cook handed him a big +chunk of white bread. It was all done very expeditiously +and in good order. After getting his share +each man would sit on his rolled-up overcoat on the +roadside and spoon the mutton and potatoes into his +mouth with the bread. Knives and forks and spoons, +after all, are really only luxuries.</p> + +<p>The roads were in a frightful state during these +November weeks. The narrow <i>pavé</i> was full of ruts, +deep and dangerous, and skirted on either side by a +slope of boggy quagmire churned up by the wheels of +hundreds of heavy motor transports, and beyond this +again on either side was a deep ditch.</p> + +<p>Any skidding motor would land in the ditch, and +the righting of these embedded cars was at times a +titanic task, productive of much loss of temper and +bad language.</p> + +<p>The narrow <i>pavé</i> would not permit of two vehicles +crossing abreast, and when two met, neither wished to +surrender the “crown of the causeway.” It was a +point of honour not to budge and to wear down the +other side by abusive epithets. Uncle Toby used to +say that our army swore horribly in Flanders, but the +swearing in Toby’s day was not a patch on the rich +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_249">[249]</span>vocabulary and full-blooded oaths of our London taxi-drivers +in Flanders in 1914.</p> + +<p>The London taxi-driver, always eloquent, reached +his highest flights when addressing the quivering +blancmange-like mud of a Belgian road.</p> + +<p>I have seen old French non-commissioned officers +who probably did not know a single word of what was +said on these occasions, but who envisaged the situation +perfectly, stand by with approving and admiring faces +while the driver was embracing in his comprehensive +abuse all things living and dead, the heavens above, +the earth beneath, and the waters under the earth.</p> + +<p>At Ouderdom we met Alphonse, soldier of France. +Two medical officers were one morning sipping some +red wine in an <i>estaminet</i> in the village when in swaggered +a very small French soldier.</p> + +<p>He had a boy’s face and figure and voice, but bore +the assured manner of a man of the world. He was +small even for a French boy. A carbine was swung +across his back, and his belt carried a bayonet and +cartridges. He wore the French blue overcoat with +the ends tucked up in the approved style and with the +buttons polished and bright. His little legs were encased +in the familiar red trousers tucked into heavy boots +several sizes too large for him, and his <i>képi</i> was placed +on his small, closely cropped head at a jaunty angle. +Such was Alphonse, the complete soldier of France, full +private in a famous Parisian rifle battalion.</p> + +<p>Alphonse swaggered into the café, ordered his glass +of red wine with the <i>sang-froid</i> and assurance of a +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_250">[250]</span>veteran grenadier, and tossed it off as easily as a +Falstaff.</p> + +<p>“How old are you, Alphonse?” “But fourteen +years, mon officier.” “Have you killed many Germans?” +“But yes, perhaps thirteen, perhaps fifteen; +who can tell when one is fighting every day? But +certainly I kill many Bosches.” “And with what did +you kill them, Alphonse?” “Avec mon carabine”—this +with a smack of his hand on the barrel of the gun. +A smart soldierly salute, and our gallant killer of thirteen, +perhaps fifteen, peaceful, amiable German soldiers +strode out of the café.</p> + +<p>A corporal of Alphonse’s regiment told us that at +the beginning of the war Alphonse was a young devil +of a gamin in Paris. In his leisure moments he sold +newspapers in the streets, and in his working hours he +was up to some devilry.</p> + +<p>When this regiment marched out of Paris towards +the frontier Alphonse marched alongside it, a bright-eyed, +hopeful, cheerful youth clad in ragged clothes and +down-at-heel boots. He was told to go home, but said +that he had no home and was going instead to kill +Germans. So in the good French way the regiment +adopted Alphonse, gave him a uniform and a gun, and +a new pair of boots, and took him on the strength.</p> + +<p>The little gamin turned out a very cunning soldier. +He was a dead shot, and the corporal assured us +that he had accounted for a good many of the enemy. +At night Alphonse would crawl out of the trenches and +scout well into the enemy lines. Frequently he brought +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_251">[251]</span>back valuable information of preparations for a German +surprise attack. He was so small and so cute that he +escaped observation.</p> + +<p>In December Alphonse was presented to President +Poincaré on one of his many visits to the French front, +and the President promised him a commission and the +Legion d’Honneur when he should reach the age of +twenty-one years. I have grave fears for the gallant, +snub-nosed, blue-eyed Alphonse, young in years but +old in sin. He is already too fond of the rich red wine +of France, and scouting at night inside the enemy lines +is a duty full of peril. But Alphonse can teach a +lesson in patriotism that many a flower-socked, straw-hatted +knut on a London promenade would do well to +learn.</p> + +<p>The Flemings are very devout Catholics, perhaps +the most Catholic of all peoples to-day; so our ambulance +was given the hall-mark of respectability +because we had with it a Monsignor. The presence of +a Catholic prelate with our ambulance, distinguished +it in a notable degree from all other ambulances, and +we tried to live up to our presumed reputation.</p> + +<p>Whenever Monsignor appeared on the roads near +Ouderdom the Belgian soldiers would immediately +stop work and, carrying their pickaxes and shovels, +crowd round him for a talk and the latest news. Monsignor +was a good linguist and a cheerful optimist, +and never handed on any bad news to the soldiers. +One morning he was asked for news, and appealed to +me what to say. We told them that the Russians had +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_252">[252]</span>another victory, and that the German dead could be +counted by thousands. This was very palatable and +thoroughly appreciated. We were not asked to give +any details of the victory, which was perhaps fortunate.</p> + +<p>Monsignor would sometimes walk along this road +with his hands behind his back and with two or three +cigarettes sticking out prominently from between his +fingers. The Belgian soldiers would then stalk after +him, with broad grins on their faces, and pull away a +cigarette. Monsignor never looked behind. That +would not be playing the game at all, but his eyes would +twinkle, and I have no doubt whatever that he hugely +enjoyed the fun.</p> + +<p>There were days when Monsignor had a wardrobe consisting +of but one shirt and one pair of trousers—the +other articles of apparel had all been given away. Then +he would begin again to collect mufflers and socks when +supplies came in, and hand them out almost immediately +to some poor devils who had nothing. If our chaplain +appeared any day to be more cheerful than usual, one +could make quite sure that he had just given away his +boots or his shirt or his towel to some poor French, +Belgian, or British Tommy. The only thing he kept a +tight hold on was his toothbrush.</p> + +<p>One day Monsignor appeared with a cardboard box +in his hand and told us that he was going to Renninghelst, +a small town about two miles from our headquarters. +Lieutenant X—— and myself asked leave +to accompany him. We had to ask permission, for +Monsignor was a senior chaplain and a lieutenant-colonel +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_253">[253]</span>in rank, although he never said anything about +that. We discovered it accidentally. Being a colonel +interested him only in a vague impersonal sort of way. +He told us once that a soldier is diffident and shy before +a colonel, but is natural and communicative to his +minister or priest who is not flagged and starred.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus23" style="max-width: 43.75em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus23.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption> + <p><span class="smcap">Monsignor distributing medals to Belgian soldiers at + the roadside.</span></p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>On this lovely winter morning, when the whole +countryside was white with frozen snow, we had a +sharp bracing walk to the curious old town, then the +headquarters of General B—— and his staff of a French +Division. The village streets were packed full of +French and Belgian soldiery, from Spahis to Alpine +Chasseurs. We worked our way round the carts and +through the jostling men to a little shop opposite the +church. Monsignor was hailed joyfully by many of his +old friends, who on this particular morning were not +working on the roads.</p> + +<p>The mystery of the cardboard box was then unravelled, +for after cutting the string and throwing away +the cover we saw that it was full of small religious +medals and scapularies. There was a big rush for the +medals, and we were all squeezed up together by the +pressing soldiers, hundreds of whom were holding their +grimy paws out for the metal discs. As Monsignor was +hard at work I took a hand also and helped in the +distribution. At last all were gone. Hundreds more +men had come up with hands out, but had to leave +unsatisfied. I asked Monsignor if the medals lost any +virtue by having been handed out by me, a Protestant. +He assured me that it was all right, as the Belgians +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_254">[254]</span>and French must have thought I was a good +Catholic.</p> + +<p>Every Field Ambulance has two chaplains attached +to it. Ours had a Church of England one and a Roman +Catholic. Another ambulance would have perhaps a +Wesleyan and a Catholic, or a Presbyterian and an +Anglican. These chaplains were not designed for the +spiritual needs of the ambulance men, but as each +ambulance kept in touch with a brigade consisting of +four battalions, the chaplain could also, by being +with the ambulance headquarters, keep in touch with +the brigade, and could also meet the wounded brought +in from that brigade, administer the rites of the Church +to those requiring it, and bury the dead. The chaplains +did not restrict themselves to the men of their own +faith, but helped and worked all they knew for all. +After all, an ambulance station full of wounded men +is not the place for religious exercises, and a wise +chaplain helped in making the men as comfortable as +possible, bringing round soup, taking off boots, distributing +cigarettes and tobacco, writing letters and +“gossiping”—the wounded like some one to talk to +them and to talk to, and the chaplains could make a +“cheery atmosphere” even in such a gloomy place as a +barn full of recently wounded men. Most of the +chaplains had a good sense of proportion. Some had +not. One bleak, miserable day, I saw a well-meaning but +mournful chaplain go up to a lorry full of wounded +men packed close together on the straw, uncomfortable +and shivering and miserable. He handed to each +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_255">[255]</span>of them a small religious tract exhorting him to read it. +The men took them with a polite “Thank you, +sir,” but their faces displayed no enthusiasm. This +was not the time for tracts. Shortly afterwards +another chaplain, a man of the world, came up to the +lorry with a “Cheer up, boys. You’ll soon be in warm +comfortable quarters. Have you any smokes?” The +men had none, and out came a dozen packets of +Woodbine cigarettes from the chaplain’s pockets and +two boxes of matches. The expression on the men’s +faces altered at once. The atmosphere had altered, the +sense of proportion had been restored.</p> + +<p>Men in hospital like to hear good news. I knew +one chaplain who managed never to go into a room full +of wounded and sick men without bringing some cheery +report for everybody. He never actually fabricated +news, but he had a wonderful gift of exaggeration. +If we were in the same position, we had “held the line +against incredible odds.” If the French had taken an +enemy trench, “they had driven a wedge into the +German position and produced consternation.” If +Russian cavalry had made a reconnaissance in the +Masurian Lakes, “they were sweeping like locusts all +over East Prussia, and had set fire to the Kaiser’s +favourite hunting-lodge.”</p> + +<p>The men never inquired about details, general +statements were quite good enough.</p> + +<p>This was better than telling men that the “war +would be a terribly long one; that we would have +to make great sacrifices; but, please God, we would win +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_256">[256]</span>in the end.” I have heard a chaplain talk like this to +wounded men, and I knew that he “wasn’t delivering +the right goods.”</p> + +<p>Renninghelst is a large village, or rather a very +small town. It is situated close to the Franco-Belgian +frontier, and at this period was of importance as an +ambulance centre for wounded French and Belgians +who were occupying the line of trenches in the front. +The country all round is real Flanders land—flat, +low-lying, damp, and uninviting. The renowned Mont +de Cats can be seen from it, and round this <i>mont</i> +some hard fighting was taking place. The old village +has a queer Dutch-looking church with a closely packed +graveyard around it, planted thickly with stone and +iron crosses to the memory of ancient departed burghers, +whose Flemish-Dutch names are inscribed there to +commemorate their ages and their virtues. Eighty, +eighty-five, and ninety seemed to be the usual age of +these old burghers for slipping off this mortal coil in +this quiet sleepy old place in Southern Belgium. There +are many new graves now round the Renninghelst +countryside, and they are for men who have died +young, suddenly, and in the springtime of their days. +The interior of this old Flemish church is lofty, and +has little in the way of adornment, for there are no +millionaires in its congregation to give great stained-glass +windows or carved pulpits.</p> + +<p>On my first visit to the church it was full of French +soldiers, some sleeping and others lolling round on the +straw that thickly covered the stone floor. A big +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_257">[257]</span>group were crowded round a charcoal brazier warming +themselves and watching the progress of a savoury +stew. The French soldiers are wonderful cooks, and +the stew this day was to be a good one, for the <i>pièce +de résistance</i> was a fine fat hare which had been caught +that morning near the front. The two cooks were +exercising great care to make the stew a success, and +the air of the place was a cheerful, expectant one.</p> + +<p>Some days after this visit I was again at Renninghelst, +and the church was now a temporary hospital. +The floor was still covered with straw, but wounded +men were lying close together on it. The charcoal +brazier was still there and giving out a welcome heat +on this cold wintry day. Ambulance waggons were +in the street next the church full of wounded soldiers, +and more were coming up the road.</p> + +<p>French army surgeons were busy amongst the red-breeched +men in the church, and three of them were +engaged round an improvised operating table near the +altar, where a man deeply under chloroform was having +his jaw wired with silver wire for a bad fracture from a +piece of shell.</p> + +<p>The old white-haired, weary-looking priest of the +parish was leaning over a dying man and bending his +head low to catch the last faint whispers. Some women +of the village were carrying round cups of hot broth +to the men propped along the wall, and others were +hurrying in with blankets and pillows.</p> + +<p>One soldier I observed to be very blanched and +tossing restlessly on his straw. Restlessness is always +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_258">[258]</span>an important sign in wounded men, and on going up +to this poor devil and turning down his rough blanket +the cause of the trouble was apparent. He was bleeding +freely through a bandaged wound of the leg. The +dressings were soaked with blood, and as the French +surgeons were occupied I broke a professional rule +and treated this patient without asking his doctor’s +permission. The bleeding was soon controlled, and +the threatened death from hæmorrhage averted.</p> + +<p>As I was completing the last turns of the bandage +a voice murmured over my shoulder, “Vive l’entente +cordiale.” The speaker was the chief surgeon, just +released from his work on the operating table. He +thanked me for helping, and said that he and his two +assistants had been up all night, and had been very +busy. Most of the men had been wounded by shrapnel. +Shrapnel makes very bad wounds; it rips, tears, and +lacerates the tissues, and repair is often impossible +in face of the anatomical devastation. The French +were having a great deal of trouble with their wounds, +as we were also. All the wounds became septic. There +is very little clean surgery in this war. The wounds +rarely heal by first intention, and a fractured, splintered +bone meant months of rest and painful dressings in +hospital and a tardy convalescence.</p> + +<p>The fighting all along this front had been extraordinarily +severe. The French hospitals and the French +medical staff were taxed to the utmost. Every available +fighting man was in the trenches or waiting as +supports. The German hammer was making mighty +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_259">[259]</span>swings on the Allied anvil, and nowhere were the blows so +heavy and so long sustained as on that famous Ypres +salient. It was bent and dented, but not broken. +The character of the fighting can be grasped from +two incidents. One famous infantry regiment left +England at full strength. All of its original officers +were killed, wounded, or missing. Of the second lot +of officers, all were killed, wounded, or missing. Its +third supply of officers were now grimly up against +the same chain of events.</p> + +<p>One of the first British Divisions left England with +12,000 men and 400 officers. When it was withdrawn +from the front to rest and refit, it could only muster +2336 men and 44 officers!</p> + +<p>A famous French regiment with a long roll of battle +honours went into action one frosty morning near +Reims. It went forward a gleaming column of more +than a thousand bayonets. Two days afterwards +forty-nine men, led by an old bearded sergeant, marched +back. These were all that were left. The sergeant had +a bloody bandage across his forehead—he had lost an +eye—but the French Brigadier-General embraced and +kissed him on the cheek. The French officers standing +near stood rigidly at the salute, and tears were running +down their cheeks.</p> + +<p>The losses on our side were heavy indeed, but on the +German side I am glad to know that they were colossal. +The annihilation of German battalions and brigades +is an argument that the Germans fully understand, +and the only thing that will convince the German that +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_260">[260]</span>the game is up is heavy and continuous loss of fighting +men and difficulty in filling their ranks. This sounds +very brutal, but we are living in a hard age.</p> + +<p>I was much struck by the splendid way the women +of this small Belgian town rallied round to help the +wounded. We found the same thing in France; no +trouble was too great, and all was done so cheerfully +and sympathetically. This is the “women’s day” in +France. One cannot help admiring their courage and +ability in France’s hour of trial. Husbands, sons, +brothers, fathers—all are on the frontier, and the women +carry on the business of France. They make the most +stupendous sacrifices and exhibit a sublime patience. +None are so joyful as the women when a French victory +is announced, and none so pitiful as they when the +wounded, the corollary to every victory, arrive at +the towns and villages.</p> + +<p>This war, which the German has carried on with an +animal ferocity and a degenerate lust unequalled in +history, has demonstrated to the world the unfaltering +nobility of character of the French woman, and that +her fervent soul can rise serene and cool in the midst +of the most appalling troubles.</p> + +<p>When our troops landed at Le Havre in August, it +was noticed at once what a big part the women were +taking in the business life of the place. There were +women conductors on the trams, women in the +tobacconist shops, women in the cafés as attendants, +in the streets selling newspapers, and in all the big +<i>magasins</i>.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_261">[261]</span></p> + +<p>In Rouen, women conducted coal and timber yards, +vegetable and produce businesses, bakeries, butcheries, +fishmongeries, grocers’ and ironmongers’ stores. Women +drove carts and waggons, acted as tally clerks on +wharves, did everything, in fact—and did it all soberly, +quietly, and well. They were always tidy, smart, and +cheerful, and did not stop work at eleven o’clock for +a glass of beer, or spend many quarters of hours filling +and lighting pipes of tobacco.</p> + +<p>One woman I know—a rosy-cheeked, blue-eyed +Norman dame—did the catering for a large officers’ +mess in one of the camps at Rouen. At 5 a.m. she was +at the mess tent with her pony-cart laden with wine, +vegetables, preserves, and fruit. I have passed her +shop at nine o’clock at night and have seen her then +busily selling dried fish, pickles, and vinegar to her +customers. She told me that she was too busy to sleep. +This was in 1915, and she had been running the business +with no other help than that of two small daughters +since July 1914.</p> + +<p>Her husband was on the Argonne front, and she was +keeping the flag flying till his return. Incidentally, +she was making money. Catering for an officers’ mess +is fairly lucrative.</p> + +<p>On the march from the Marne to the Aisne, and on +the Aisne itself, women were to be seen doing ordinary +farm work—building stacks, carting in the wheat, +driving waggon-loads of hay and peas, milking the cows, +making cider and butter, tilling the soil,—and tending +the children into the bargain.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_262">[262]</span></p> + +<p>The most amazing thing of all was to see women +working in the fields behind our batteries only a mile +away.</p> + +<p>At Venizel, on the Aisne bank, our Engineers were +throwing a pontoon bridge across the river under a +heavy shrapnel fire. Shells were bursting up and +down the river’s bank and on the waters of the river, +yet about a quarter of a mile behind three women were +busily engaged cutting turnips for the cows.</p> + +<p>On the march from the Aisne to La Bassée, our +Field Ambulance bivouacked at the Château of Longpont. +The Comte and Comtesse de M—— were in +residence at the château, and we were told by the +Comtesse that General von Kluck, commanding the +right wing of the invading army, had in August stopped +for a day and a night at the château with his <i>état-major</i>. +We asked how Von Kluck had behaved, and +the Comtesse said that he had been <i>très agréable</i>. +When he arrived, she interviewed him and begged him +to respect the old château and its old abbey, the +pictures and the tapestries. The General promised +that he would do so, and that he would give orders +that the villagers in the hamlet near the château gates +were not to be molested. It was the apple season, and +the apple trees of Longpont were laden with delicious +fruit. Von Kluck “asked permission” of the Comtesse +for his soldiers to take some apples off the trees. +This the Comtesse graciously permitted, and the dusty +German soldiery helped themselves to the apples and +did not break a branch off a single tree.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_263">[263]</span></p> + +<p>The Comtesse provided new eggs and butter and +bread for the General’s breakfast, and he invited her +to honour the meal with her presence. But the Comtesse +sent a note that she would not break bread with +her country’s enemy. This was one of the few +châteaux and one of the few villages that the German +Saligoth did not destroy or outrage before leaving.</p> + +<p>Some German Generals approved of outrages and +atrocities, to wit, Rupprecht of Bavaria. Some disapproved, +and Von Kluck, it is said, was one of these—but +I “hae ma doots.”</p> + +<p>This leads to one of the blackest pictures of this +war—a picture grim and loathsome. It is a subject +which the women of France will discuss freely and +openly and with a concentrated bitterness that one +can readily understand. I have spoken to many +educated French women on this subject, and have heard +many curious and amazing tales and incidents. The +subject is that of the women who have been ravished +and outraged by the German soldiery.</p> + +<p>Many of these victims, married women and young +girls, are to-day pregnant to German fathers, and the +burning question with the women of France is how +best to help their unfortunate sisters, and what is to +be done for the offspring.</p> + +<p>In the French Chamber of Deputies the subject has +been debated with equal freedom and openness. Leading +French newspapers too, such as the <i>Figaro</i>, <i>Le +Temps</i>, <i>Echo de Paris</i>, and others, have envisaged the +position in powerful and appealing articles.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_264">[264]</span></p> + +<p>One journal advocated that in the exceptional +circumstances it was perfectly justifiable to carry out +abortion and interrupt the period of gestation. Opinions +were sought from leading French physicians and from +the Academy of Medicine. These unhesitatingly condemned +such a course, pointing out that the mission of +the medical profession was to save life; and also that +the induction of premature labour was at all times a +dangerous and risky operation to the mother, and in +certain circumstances would be fatal.</p> + +<p>The Catholic Church in France spoke strongly and +certainly in the same direction, and condemned as +utterly wrong and sinful any measure that had for its +object the death of the unborn child.</p> + +<p>The women of France, however, do not share these +latter views.</p> + +<p>Arrangements have now been completed for the +reception of these pitiful expectant mothers into certain +maternity homes, where they will be attended by skilled +doctors and nurses at the State expense. After birth +the child is to be brought up by the State at some +place undeclared. The mother will not see the child +at any time, and will know nothing of its future.</p> + +<p>The clergy all over Northern France are attending +to this matter, and everything will be done as secretly +as possible in the unusual circumstances.</p> + +<p>No wonder that the French woman speaks of the +German soldier as a loathly thing.</p> + +<hr class="chap x-ebookmaker-drop"> + +<div class="chapter"> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_265">[265]</span></p> + +<h2 class="nobreak" id="CHAPTER_XIX">CHAPTER XIX.<br> +<span class="smaller">WE LEAVE BELGIUM.</span></h2> + +</div> + +<p>At the end of November our ambulance was ordered +to St. Jans Capelle. We were not sorry to leave our +house, with its evil pond and manure heap, and the +voice of Madame.</p> + +<p>Madame, by the way, was very amiable when we +told her that we were to leave. She did not say that +she was sorry, but she no longer screeched at our cooks +or railed at our men for eating her straw. Just as our +ambulance was about to move off, and Madame stood +at the door with the first approach to a frosty smile +that we had ever seen on her face, a French sergeant +and ten men of a balloon section arrived. The sergeant +had a lump of chalk in his hand and scrawled on the +door, “Ballon. 3 sous Officiers. Hommes x.” He +brusquely informed Madame that the quarters just +vacated by us were to be at once taken by his balloon +section. Madame raged and raved, but the sergeant +was imperturbable, and suddenly quietened Madame +by saying that if she objected very much he would +begin to think that she was a German spy. The sergeant +told us that as a matter of fact they were not satisfied +about Madame’s husband’s patriotism. We knew that +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_266">[266]</span>Madame and her sulky husband would now have a +much worse time than when we occupied the house, +for at least we tried to give little trouble, and lavishly +paid for any vegetables, milk, or food that we got from +the farmer. The French insist on the “articles of war,” +and when they occupy a house they really do occupy +it and make themselves very much at home.</p> + +<p>This mention of Madame’s husband being of doubtful +honesty, reminded us of a curious incident that occurred +early in our stay at this place. There was another +farm close to the one we occupied, and this farm was +owned by a man who, we were told, was a cousin of +“Monsieur our farmer.” At this house a man was +stopping who said that he was a refugee from Ypres. +He told us that he was a baker from Boston, United +States of America, and that he and his wife, who were +Belgians, had been visiting their native country when +war broke out. He said that his wife and two children +were in Brussels when the Germans occupied the city, +and that he himself was stopping with a friend in +Ypres when the Germans first bombarded it; he then +left Ypres and came to stop at this farmer’s house. +This man used to walk every day along a road which +passed behind some French batteries of 75 mm., but one +day he did not come back. We asked his farmer friend +what had become of him, and he said that he had left +to go to America. We thought the circumstance odd +at the time, and when our sergeant told us about +Madame’s husband being under suspicion we asked +him if he knew anything about this other man, the +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_267">[267]</span>Boston baker. He said that he did, for he had seen +the fellow arrested and sent back to be tried for spying. +That perhaps explained why Madame did not like us, +and why her vituperation and objections were suddenly +silenced when the French balloon sergeant talked about +German spies.</p> + +<p>After leaving the inhospitable cottage-headquarters, +our ambulance had a long day’s trek over the Belgian +frontier to St. Jans Capelle. This place was close to +Bailleul. We put our men into billets near at hand +and got quarters for ourselves in the Convent, where +the sisters gave us a big dormitory full of clean white +beds with blankets and sheets. This was indeed luxury +after all our roughing times from the Marne till now. +We were always perfectly willing to undergo inconvenience +and hardships, but none of us ever missed an +opportunity of availing himself of the luxuries and +amenities of civilisation whenever they presented +themselves. We had the fine front room of the Convent +for a dining- and sitting-room, and, greatest boon of all, +a fire to sit round. The cold was intense at this time, +and the whole country was frozen hard in snow and ice. +This was the period when frostbite was so terrible to +our men in the trenches, and the Clearing Hospitals and +Ambulance Stations were so busy treating the frozen men.</p> + +<p>It was found necessary to relieve frequently the +freezing soldiers in the advanced trenches, and every +three days they were allowed out from the terrible mud +ditches, with death on the parapet and frostbite at the +bottom.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_268">[268]</span></p> + +<p>Braziers of burning charcoal were put into the +trenches, but were found to be ineffective and harmful +to the feet. The people of England did magnificent +work in sending out gum boots, skin overcoats, and +protectives of all sort, but in spite of all that was done +the frostbite incapacitated many men. The recoveries +were always slow, and could not be effected at the +front, so all these limping men were sent back to England +for rest and change. Many methods of treatment +were tried for the frostbite, but time alone seemed to +be the chief curative factor. In some cases the feet were +swollen, and small bloody exudates could be seen under +the big toe and the outer side of the foot where the +boot pressed. Sometimes the skin was broken and +ulcers formed at the site. In other cases toes became +completely gangrenous or dead. The feet were rubbed +and massaged with various oils and swathed in cotton +wool, but wrapping in wool aggravated the suffering, +and the men felt much more relief when the feet were +left exposed. The worst time for the cold-feet men was +from one o’clock to three in the morning. They would +often go off to sleep peacefully, but would wake up at +these hours suffering excruciating pain in their feet and +calves and up the spine. Nothing would relieve this +pain but hypodermic injections of morphia. One +officer described his state to me, and said that he had +been standing in a trench in mud over his boot-tops. +At first his feet felt very cold, and he tried to warm +them by stamping, but this method of exercise was +too sloppy. Then sensation seemed to go and he felt +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_269">[269]</span>quite comfortable, because although his feet felt very +heavy they did not feel cold, only dead. On the fifth +day he could hardly walk and had to be helped out of +the trenches. He was unable to walk to the ambulance, +a short way back, and the feet were found to be so +swollen in hospital that the boots had to be cut off. +Then the worst time of all came on, for as the circulation +gradually returned he suffered diabolical pain in +his feet and calves, and this pain was always worst in +the early mornings. Eight weeks after having been +lifted out of the trench he was still limping about with +two sticks, and was making a normal but very slow +recovery.</p> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus24" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus24.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption> + <p><span class="smcap">Going towards the trenches at Ypres.</span></p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + +<figure class="figcenter illowp100" id="illus25" style="max-width: 31.25em;"> + <img class="w100" src="images/illus25.jpg" alt=""> + <figcaption> + <p><span class="smcap">French soldiers going to the trenches.</span></p> + </figcaption> +</figure> + +<p>This officer told me that one night the men in his +trenches were ordered out to make a bayonet attack, +but half of them were in such a condition that they +could not crawl out of the trench. Fortunately the +Germans were pushed back by those who could, otherwise +the poor devils left behind would have been +captured or killed.</p> + +<p>The Indians round the Bethune district suffered +very severely from the frostbite, and these poor men +deserved our greatest sympathy during this period, +trying and terrible enough to men reared in a fairly +rigorous climate like that of England or Scotland. +The misery of the life to men who had never lived out +of tropical India was enough to wear down any but the +stoutest hearts. History will give due credit and +praise to these Indians, that they rose superior to their +environment and soon proved what sterling good +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_270">[270]</span>soldiers they are. I visited at an Indian Clearing +Hospital the first lot of casualties from the M—— +Division. This Clearing Hospital took over the École +Jules Ferry at Bethune, and occupied it for a few weeks +after our Clearing Hospital had vacated it. The +doctors belonged to the Indian Medical Service, and +the native Indian doctors belonging to the subordinate +medical service acted under the white doctors. Some +temporary lieutenants of the Royal Army Medical +Corps were also on the staff.</p> + +<p>The dusky warriors were arriving in scores, brought +in on motor ambulances, and very woeful they looked, +covered with mud and bloody bandages. They had +not been long at the front, and their first experience +of modern war was a very desperate ordeal.</p> + +<p>The night was dark and gloomy and a heavy rain +was soaking the countryside. The mud-splashed cars +dashed into the dripping courtyard, fitfully lit up by +the sombre gleams of smoky lanterns tied to posts. +Round about were the dark-faced bearers ready to +help out the wounded. Those who could walk got +out of the ambulances themselves and the stretcher +cases were taken out by the bearers. The scene on +this night impressed one with the far-reaching character +of this war, for here were men from the central plains +of India, the far-off frontiers and the slopes of the +Himalayas, gathered together in a muddy, marshy +region of France, and wounded in trying to hold a line +of ditches against the most determined and scientific +fighting men of Europe.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_271">[271]</span></p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“Rulers alike and subject, splendid the roll-call rings,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Rajahs and Maharajahs, Kings and the sons of Kings,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">From the land where the skies are molten</div> + <div class="verse indent2">And the suns strike down and parch.</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Out of the East they are marching,</div> + <div class="verse indent2">Into the West they march.”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>One swarthy Sikh with a fine beard was asked +what he thought of the war.</p> + +<p>“Sahib, it is a very good war. It is a man’s war. +The old men, the women, and the children are in the +villages. The warriors are out fighting. It is very +good.” This optimist had got through with a slight +wound of the right hand, and perhaps that accounted +for his cheery outlook. Most of the wounded on that +night looked as if they would have been better pleased +to be with “the old men, the women, and the children +in the villages.”</p> + +<p>There is no doubt that the Indians are pleased to be +fighting alongside us in this “good war,” but they +have a respect for the German because he is a fierce +fighter, and perhaps also because of his ruthlessness, +an attitude which appeals to the Oriental mind.</p> + +<p>The Gurkha is a funny little man and a swashbuckler. +His small sturdy frame, his slanting, watchful +eyes with the glint of the devil in them, his bandolier, +rifle, and deadly kukri, with its broad razor-edged +blade, make up a picture of force and fighting cunning.</p> + +<p>Plaster this man with thick mud, put a bloody +bandage round his head, and place him in a dimly lit +corner of a dripping court on a dark, rainy night, then +indeed he looks a breathing symbol of murder and +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_272">[272]</span>imminent destruction. When the Gurkha is out “on +the job” at night, prowling far from his trenches and +within the enemy lines, with no weapon but his broad, +sharp knife and with a mind intent on slaying, he is a +formidable and fearsome adversary.</p> + +<p>At first our Indian troops found it difficult to +accustom themselves to the novel form of war in wet, +cold trenches, a bad climate, and with every surrounding +strange and inhospitable. The loss of their British +officers and native non-commissioned officers was at +first very heavy, and this discouraged the men, who +look so much to their officers who know their language +and understand them. But these brave fellows soon +“found themselves,” and have since those dark October +days proved again and again that when the call comes +they can be relied upon to fight with as much determination +as ever they have done in the past. An +experienced British officer of a native regiment told +me that what the Indians missed very much in France +was opium. He said that the Indian had always been +accustomed to his opium in India, that he did not take +much, but really was the better for a little. He took +it in small quantity as a soporific stimulant, just as +our grandfathers took snuff, and he assured me that +when the Indians had to meet the hellish conditions of +modern war at the front last winter a little opium +to each man would have meant a great deal. In this +I cordially agree with him, for the medicinal and +stimulant effects of small doses of opium are undoubted.</p> + +<p>The question of feeding our Indian soldiers was a +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_273">[273]</span>difficult one, and required very careful handling. An +old Sikh was wounded near Bethune and was taken to +the British Clearing Hospital. He refused to take +anything but biscuits and water. Fortunately we +were able to remove the old ritualist to the native +Clearing Hospital, otherwise we would have been at an +<i>impasse</i>.</p> + +<p>Amongst both Hindoos and Mohammedans the +caste prejudices and ritualistic ceremonies must be +remembered and observed in the providing and killing +of animals for consumption. The French also have +native troops with them and have the same difficulties +to overcome, and this helps us considerably in arranging +a joint commissariat scheme. A Sikh soldier will not +eat a sheep killed in the Mohammedan method by cutting +its throat, and the Mohammedan soldier will not eat a +sheep killed in the Sikh method by a slashing stroke +on the back of the neck. So there you are. These +things do not seem to be very important, but they are +important all the same. Ask the Jew who refuses the +unclean pork, and the good Churchman who refuses +meat on Fridays.</p> + +<p>The following story, which I heard at the front, +illustrates the accommodating nature of the Gurkha. +When his regiments were embarking on the transports +at an Indian port, the point arose whether he would +eat frozen mutton. The British officers agreed to let +the matter be solved by the men. So they called up the +Subadar, who, after a little wrinkling of the eyebrow, +said, “I think, Sahib, the regiment will be willing to +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_274">[274]</span>eat the iced sheep provided one of them is always +present to see the animal frozen to death.”</p> + +<p>In Rouen there is an encampment for goats for the +Indians, and we were told that these goats were good +mountain fellows from the Pyrenees. Four Indians, +under the charge of an old, venerable, long-bearded +native, used to drive them from their encampment +to the Indian convalescent dépôt about two miles +outside the city.</p> + +<p>The goats, in spite of the shouting and rushing +about of the drivers, would not keep their ranks and +dress by the right in marching through Normandy’s +capital city. The delight of the French people, who +always turned up in crowds to see the goats march past, +passed all bounds when one would make a wild dash +up a side street, hotly pursued by an irate turbaned +Indian. Another source of great joy was to see the +goats march slowly along the train line and hold up the +train traffic.</p> + +<p>The Indians were always of absorbing interest to +the French, and crowds of men and women would walk +on a fine afternoon from the city to the Indian dépôt +camp for convalescents to see our brown-faced fighting +men.</p> + +<p>On one winter day in Rouen, just after a heavy fall +of snow, a company of French soldiers under a non-commissioned +officer was marching past the Indian +encampment. The Indians lined up the fence alongside +the road and bombarded the French with a +rapid fire of snowballs. The French looked surprised, +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_275">[275]</span>and, forgetting discipline but still keeping their ranks, +poured a heavy fusillade of snowballs on the men of +India. The incident is illustrative of the good feeling +that exists between the French and their Indian allies.</p> + +<p>The Abbé Bouchon d’Homme of our hospital at +Bethune told me with great glee one morning that the +Mayor of the town had had a “poser” put to him by +the Indians. One of these had just died from wounds, +and he had evidently been a fire-worshipper. The dead +man’s comrades asked the Mayor of Bethune to provide +them with timber, as they wished to burn the deceased +in the cemetery of the city. The Mayor was staggered +at the request, and although he had, so the Abbé said, +some curiosity to see the ceremony of fire carried out, +he had to “turn down” the proposition. So the man +was buried in the usual way.</p> + +<h3><span class="smcap">Good-bye to the Front.</span></h3> + +<p>The Army Headquarters, now that our line had +been firmly established and locked firmly on our right +with the French and on our left with the Belgians and +French, decided to allow a short leave, at intervals, and +in rotation, to officers and as many men as possible. +The leave was specially designed for those who had +been through the retreat, the Marne, and the Aisne. +New troops were arriving at the front and gradually +taking the place of the veterans temporarily retired to +recuperate.</p> + +<p>The 5th Division had been amongst the hard knocks +from the beginning and we got off early.</p> + +<p><span class="pagenum" id="Page_276">[276]</span></p> + +<p>I left the front by a motor bus, which conveyed a +group of seven officers from Bailleul to Boulogne, +and from thence we reached England by the ferry +steamer.</p> + +<p>It felt uncanny to be away from the sound of the +guns. Ever since August our lives had been punctuated +with incessant gun-fire; we had roused each +morning to the sound of heavy artillery, we had gone +to sleep with cannonades for a lullaby, and during +the long day had listened to the Devil’s Orchestra +of lyddite, melinite, shrapnel, and rifle fire; and now +away from it all we seemed to live in a curiously still +and silent world.</p> + +<p>London was a very inviting place to return to. +The hot bath, the good bed, the morning newspaper at +breakfast had never been so much appreciated before. +The rough knocking about and the strain had left its +effects on the health of many of us, and these four days’ +rest and recuperation, mental and physical, were a +godsend.</p> + +<p>At the end of the holiday I was appointed Surgical +Specialist to a Base Hospital in Rouen, and for a time +my lines were cast in quieter waters. But the allurement +of the front—the call of the wild with its +excitements and uncertainties—lasted for some time +longer. It is a curious fact, but true, that the men at +the front would like to get to the Base, and when they +get there they want to return to the front. “Those +behind say forward, and those in front say back.”</p> + +<p>The memories of days spent at the front can never +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_277">[277]</span>be quite forgotten. Time may blunt the clearness of +outline of some of the incidents in a hazy mist, but +there are others that will stand out clear and undimmed +to the last.</p> + +<p>The surgeon sees the very seamy side of war. He +comes close to the men stricken down in the field, +helpless and bleeding and in pain. He stands by them +in their dark hours in hospital and by their bedsides +when they die.</p> + +<p>While the world is hearing the earthquake voice +of Victory, he is perhaps kneeling on the straw easing +the path to death of a dying man, one of the victors +in the fight, or perhaps operating in a mean cottage, +surrounded by wounded men waiting their turn on the +table.</p> + +<p>The gallant charge, the brave defence, the storming +of the enemy’s position are heralded in dispatches +and in song and story, but translated into the notebook +of the “Surgeon in Khaki” they represent many +dead, many wounded, much crippling and mutilation, +tears, distress, and broken hearts.</p> + +<p>I have seen brave men die the death in battle—changed +in a second of time from forceful, vital, volcanic +energy to still, inanimate rest. I have seen mortally +wounded men pass uncomplainingly and composedly +to the valley of the shadow, and I have seen faces become +anxious and troubled at the thought of those dear and +loving ones left behind and of the aching hearts and +tears.</p> + +<p>I have written letters of farewell from dying men +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_278">[278]</span>and officers to wives and sweethearts and children, and +have felt the horror and misery of it all. It is a sad +and mournful sight to see brave young men die.</p> + +<p>Yet, though the life of the “Surgeon in Khaki” is +amidst this aftermath of battle, he has the infinite +satisfaction of knowing that he can, and does, hold out +a hand of help to the hurt and maimed soldier crawling +out of the welter of blood and destruction, and that he is +doing the work of the Compassionate and Pitying One.</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“Affliction’s sons are brothers in distress,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">A brother to relieve! How exquisite the Bliss.”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p>This war has brought out many faults in our +national life, but it has also brought out many shining +virtues, and to the Faith and Hope of the people in the +prowess of the soldiers, we must add the Charity shown +by the people of this Empire to our sick and wounded. +By subscriptions to ambulance funds, Red Cross funds, +and hospitals, and by doing all that was humanly +possible to help those hurt in battle, the people of to-day +have made a name that posterity will honour and +strive in vain to equal. They have also helped the +Belgian and Serbian Red Cross movements and have +shown that</p> + +<div class="poetry-container"> + <div class="poetry"> + <div class="stanza"> + <div class="verse indent0">“Kindness in another’s trouble,</div> + <div class="verse indent0">Courage in your own,”</div> + </div> + </div> +</div> + +<p class="noindent">which is always so admirable a trait.</p> + +<p>Our fighting men are magnificent, and the hardihood +and patient endurance of our wounded are beyond all +praise. I have seen our men in actual fight, I have +<span class="pagenum" id="Page_279">[279]</span>watched the French gunners at work and seen the +French infantry charge with the bayonet and throw +back a German rush, and I feel a complete confidence +of the ultimate final success of the Allied arms—for +to such men is given the Victory.</p> + +<p class="titlepage">THE END.</p> + +<p class="center smaller"><i>Printed by</i><br> +<span class="smcap">Morrison & Gibb Limited</span><br> +<i>Edinburgh</i></p> + +<div style='text-align:center'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK 77265 ***</div> +</body> +</html> diff --git a/77265-h/images/cover.jpg b/77265-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..507f5ec --- /dev/null +++ b/77265-h/images/cover.jpg diff --git a/77265-h/images/illus01.jpg b/77265-h/images/illus01.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8120aab --- /dev/null +++ b/77265-h/images/illus01.jpg diff --git a/77265-h/images/illus02.jpg b/77265-h/images/illus02.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7f680de --- /dev/null +++ b/77265-h/images/illus02.jpg diff --git a/77265-h/images/illus03.jpg b/77265-h/images/illus03.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..31f1351 --- /dev/null +++ b/77265-h/images/illus03.jpg diff --git a/77265-h/images/illus04.jpg b/77265-h/images/illus04.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..78b7246 --- /dev/null +++ b/77265-h/images/illus04.jpg diff --git a/77265-h/images/illus05.jpg b/77265-h/images/illus05.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..382e6a5 --- /dev/null +++ b/77265-h/images/illus05.jpg diff --git a/77265-h/images/illus06.jpg b/77265-h/images/illus06.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..31ce0a7 --- /dev/null +++ b/77265-h/images/illus06.jpg diff --git a/77265-h/images/illus07.jpg b/77265-h/images/illus07.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..fbf4ef8 --- /dev/null +++ b/77265-h/images/illus07.jpg diff --git a/77265-h/images/illus08.jpg b/77265-h/images/illus08.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..01bcfe3 --- /dev/null +++ b/77265-h/images/illus08.jpg diff --git a/77265-h/images/illus09.jpg b/77265-h/images/illus09.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3a1ae2b --- /dev/null +++ b/77265-h/images/illus09.jpg diff --git a/77265-h/images/illus10.jpg b/77265-h/images/illus10.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..c57912c --- /dev/null +++ b/77265-h/images/illus10.jpg diff --git a/77265-h/images/illus11.jpg b/77265-h/images/illus11.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a2376bb --- /dev/null +++ b/77265-h/images/illus11.jpg diff --git a/77265-h/images/illus12.jpg b/77265-h/images/illus12.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..3f83f62 --- /dev/null +++ b/77265-h/images/illus12.jpg diff --git a/77265-h/images/illus13.jpg b/77265-h/images/illus13.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a313015 --- /dev/null +++ b/77265-h/images/illus13.jpg diff --git a/77265-h/images/illus14.jpg b/77265-h/images/illus14.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..d5e52d1 --- /dev/null +++ b/77265-h/images/illus14.jpg diff --git a/77265-h/images/illus15.jpg b/77265-h/images/illus15.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..8cac87f --- /dev/null +++ b/77265-h/images/illus15.jpg diff --git a/77265-h/images/illus16.jpg b/77265-h/images/illus16.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..9d4bc5b --- /dev/null +++ b/77265-h/images/illus16.jpg diff --git a/77265-h/images/illus17.jpg b/77265-h/images/illus17.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..63550f4 --- /dev/null +++ b/77265-h/images/illus17.jpg diff --git a/77265-h/images/illus18.jpg b/77265-h/images/illus18.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..1081535 --- /dev/null +++ b/77265-h/images/illus18.jpg diff --git a/77265-h/images/illus19.jpg b/77265-h/images/illus19.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..0afa90e --- /dev/null +++ b/77265-h/images/illus19.jpg diff --git a/77265-h/images/illus20.jpg b/77265-h/images/illus20.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..a030b96 --- /dev/null +++ b/77265-h/images/illus20.jpg diff --git a/77265-h/images/illus21.jpg b/77265-h/images/illus21.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..780cfb7 --- /dev/null +++ b/77265-h/images/illus21.jpg diff --git a/77265-h/images/illus22.jpg b/77265-h/images/illus22.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..7ede463 --- /dev/null +++ b/77265-h/images/illus22.jpg diff --git a/77265-h/images/illus23.jpg b/77265-h/images/illus23.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..b4f5ba0 --- /dev/null +++ b/77265-h/images/illus23.jpg diff --git a/77265-h/images/illus24.jpg b/77265-h/images/illus24.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..72f1b8f --- /dev/null +++ b/77265-h/images/illus24.jpg diff --git a/77265-h/images/illus25.jpg b/77265-h/images/illus25.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..f35eaa1 --- /dev/null +++ b/77265-h/images/illus25.jpg diff --git a/77265-h/images/line.jpg b/77265-h/images/line.jpg Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..67c02c8 --- /dev/null +++ b/77265-h/images/line.jpg |
