DISPATCH-RIDING AT THE FRONT

Dominion, Volume 8, Issue 2371, 29 January 1915, Page 6

DISPATCH-RIDING AT THE FRONT

PERILS OF A CYCLIST A HAZARDOUS OCCUPATION. By common consent dispatch-riding at the front is one of the most hazardous of all occupations there, and +he adventures of the dispatch-riders are among the most excitingly adventurous of any.' On every journey they make, these young men tako their lives in their hands. They know it—but they forget it. Some or their escapes border upon the miraculous. Here is a letter from one of them, written to his father, and published in "The Times." It is dated November 9:— "Dear Pater, —I am quite safe, but during the last 36 hours have been through more excitement than the whole of the previous seven weeks put together. "As a precursory bullet missed me the other day by a few inches. It was aimed at an aeroplane, and landed on earth again near me. I dug it out, and am keeping it as a souvenir. Two days ago the staff moved up to a farm fairly well to the fore, and left the motor cyclists four miles behind, because the roads were practically impassible. The next day we got orders for four of us to try and get through after dusk, the rest remaining behind. As tveryono wanted to go, w« drew lots for the honour. I was among the chosen fonr. About 5 o'clock we set out. We had to go through a burning town of considerable size that was being shelled. "About half a mile from the town we were told to put our lamps out, as a light draws shells almost as much as moths. As,' however, it was hopeless to try and ride without any light, we turned our lamps as low as possible, and rushed the open space between us and the town. We reached the edge of the town all right, and then had to go dead slow to avoid huge shell-holes and fallen masonry.

"Not knowing our way, we decided to make for the square, which we heard was burning, and to which we could make our way by the glare. We crawled through deserted streets ripped up by shells, and passed no sign of Lumanity except a dead horse or two and a wagon overturned in a shell-hole. We eventually . reached the square, hoping to find someone to show us the' way out. That square was the most magnificent sight I have ever seen. A cathedral and the Hotel de Ville stand in the middle, and all around are big houses. Five of these were blazing furiously, and lighting up the whole square with a red glare. The cathedral and Guildhall, part of which had been shot away, looked wonderful silhouetted against the fire of light reflected against the clouds of smoke. . .

"The heat was appalling, and we had to wear goggles to keep «6hes and sparks out of our eyes. Comic relief was provided by two dogs fighting right in the middle, heedless of the shells which were whistling over Halfway across the square we heard a low moaning sound, and saw a little bunch of 12 civilians sheltering in a doorway tn abject fear and misery. One man . . . seemed less stunned than the others, so we called him out and asked him the way to where we wanted to'go. He was, however, quite unintelligible, and only murmured, with some show of stoicism, that the whole town was mined and on fire, that he did not know tho way, but assuredly if we went on we should not come back. "Wondering what to do, we stood and watched the spectacle for a bit, when suddenly a French push-cyclist appeared from nowhere, pedalling like mad. ... He said he knew the way well,' and was going in the same direction We got safely out of the .town to a road junction, whore our guiile left us. Hero we had to put our lights out in earnest, and groped round for some while looking for our destination. Here we had another stroke of luck, for we met one of our staff officers, who showed us the way to the farm where headquarters was. About 1.30 a.m. some of the French cavalry felt cold and lit a huge''fire. In five minutes the Germans had got the range to a nicety. . . . The first inkling we got was when the man next me got knocked on the foot by a shrapnel bullet and woke up with a.sort of vague idea he had heard a shell burst. He woke mo up, and . . just as he was speaking another came and spattered bullets in the straw round lis. . . . Just after dark T was sent out on a message to a brigade. I was allowed a short distance with a light, then put it out, and left the bike with a sentry. I walked up a road for about a mile, getting nearer and nearer to the firing line, till I reached a ruined village. Here stray rifle bullets started whistling by. I then bad' to go down a side road. The Crst part of the road was more or less sunken, and I went gaily- along with the bullets several feet above my head. For about' the last 200 yards the-road was open, and a sniper was busy there. As I came out ho took >a pot shot at me, but he only hit the road in front of me. I dived into a ditch, and crawled along it the whole way with.bullets whistling over the road. ... I waited after delivering' my message, and guided an officer back. ... We had only gone a few yards down the road when they started' shelling it. . . . We made a bolt, and got to where my bike was. ... ■ "I had a message yesterday evening which bay through the town. They were shelling a quarter I had to go through, so I waited a few hundred yards short of it to try and see how they were coming. I noticed that they sent over two with a 10 seconds interval, and then waited about a minute before sending over two mor*. So I went a little closer, and waited till two had gone, and then got on my bike and let rip to set through. . . . Right in the middle of the danger zone I got caught up in alot of wire which wound round my back wheel and locked it tight. "I had half a mind to make a bolt for it on foot, but thought I would stick it and free flic wheel and get through. Six shells came _ through while I was doing it, and the job seemed to take hours, but I cleared it without getting hurt, though one shell scattered a lot of dirt over me. Once clear of the wire I did not waste any time getting out. On the return journey I was waiting for a convenient moment to make a dash for it, when I met another motor cyclist who had found a way round the outskirts of the town which was reasonably safe. . . . "I shall be very glad when we have hurled tho Germans out of this nosition, for of the three scraps I have 'seen something of since I came out, this is far and away the most ferocious and dangerous for us in our profession; besides it is extraordinarily boring sitting in our little room practically all day, simply listening to artillerv fire and occasionally singing some of Gilbert and Sullivan's more priceless gems to one another."