WAR AS IT IS

Dominion, Volume 9, Issue 2668, 13 January 1916, Page 7

WAR AS IT IS

' "A LIGHT FATIGUE" THE RANKER'S FIRST DAY We had come down the hill in daylight. It was against' orders, for the road could be seen from tho Hun lines, but we were a new draft and knew nothing.We had niarihed past the church and the bandstand; and seen the rows of knife-rests festoonell with barbed wire which surrounded it, waiting for the fatigue (work not directly opnnected with military operations; * parties which later on- would carry them to the trenches. We had heard the distant crackle of the rifles/ and now, that night had fallen we could see the star-shells lighting up the eastern horizon. It was a new and wonderful world which might hold pain but would surely hold adventure. We were billeted in a half-min-ed house. Two small shell-holes in the walls were covered up with sacking, but six of us had a small room to ourselves, and the tiled -floor made a dry if stony bed. A waterproof sheet hung over the j window, and the q>mosphere within was too "foggy", to be cold. Earlier ;n the evening riiost of us had been paraded for a fatigue the nature , of which was not disclosed, but we sis were left behind, and spreading our blankets we prepared for sleep on the stone floor. ■ About ten, however, we heard a sharp step outside and the door wa-s flung open: "A corporal and six men wanted for a fatiguo at once, rifles and ten rounds each.", Out we came, not quite unwillingly, for we .wanted' to see and to know; it was very dark, so dark that one could hardly see the man in front ; and the rain • had started to fair again as it had done most of the day. We lined up outside, and someone, apparently an officer, came up and spoke in low tones to the corporal in charge. "Are your magazines full?" "No, sir." "Load, then." My rifle had been served out to me in England and-had never been loaded. I put in a clip, but the cartridges would not pa6s into the magazine. "Can't that man load?" . "Something; wrong with the magazine, sir." He takes the, rifle and removes the magazine, but the spring won't work. "Get another rifle .and see that you get a new magazine to-morrow." I go into the house, borrow a Tiflo from a man left behind, and rejoin the squad. Tfle Corner of Death. We are marched off in the darkness past houses which we Can hardly see. and up what seems to he the drive of a large mansion. We are challenged at tho door and after a halt aro taken inside a largo hall. In the centre is a circular sette in red velvet, on which ■ lies a sleeping form in khaki. There is no other furniture, but ,at one side are the iron standard of a pump and some lengths of hose! ' J An N.C.O. comes out of a room at , the side and speaks to the corporal in charge. "You are to take the pump 1 up to the Midshire's trenches. • We ] have a guide for you here; report when you return." Four of us take up the ! standard _by the handles fixed at the , side—it is- about 3ft. lofig and very heavy. I get a roll of hosepipe, which' ; 1 manage to hitch, on to one shoulder. ! Off we go again, stumbling over tho ' broken pavement or the village streets, 1 out into the open country, and one sees 1 no sign of life. 1

Suddenly one hears a hissing in the air and something hits the road. It is a spent bullet. We realise tliat for the first time'we are 'within the? fire zone. The farther we go the more bullets we meet, only the hiss becomes a wail. There is a sound like the mewing- of a cat, and someone .whispers, "A- ricochet." Every few ; minutes a star-shell flares up in the distance, it rises like a rocket, bursts into a flare of. light, and falls slowly to the ground. Li its light we see a house at the roadside, half of the front has gone, and the roofs hang down at one end. The guide whispers' something, and word is passed down: "No talking, and go qujckly past the corner. It is marked'by a sniper, and a man was killed here two hours ago." This is the debatable land, and no man passes there by day. At each side the dead may lio unburied in the fields, but at night it is alive with hurrying shadows, reliefs, fatigues, and the silent bearers of the dead and wounded 1 . We reach the top of a rise and a voice comes out of the darkness. "Who goes therof" , " fatigue." ■ "Pass." We are getting near the trenches. I cannot see the man in front of me except as a darker shadow against the dark night'. Each time a star-shell rises we stop and fall on one knee until tho light fades again. There is a whisper from the front: "Slowly here, there is a shell hole"; it has been partly filled in with bricks and covered with loose timber. .A foot slips through into a hole, and on§ is_ wet to the knees, the standard falls with a bang, and someone curses in a loud whisper. Tho road ceases to be a road for twenty yards and we scramble along as best we can, then it goes on as before. |

The "Souls In Hell." , We are going downhill. Every now and then one sees a spurt of fire in front, and all the time the rifles keep, up an irregular rattle. 'Suddenly there' is a deeper, more ■ metallic explosion. "Trench mortar," whispers the guide. The bullets seem to bo playing all round us; one may seem nearer than most, and we duck our heads involuntarily; but one does not consciously fear them. Everything is so new and weird that one is top interested to bo afraid. "Lie down when the star-shells rise; we are close there now, and the German lines are only fifty yards beyond." As the word comes a star-shell flares up like a rocket, and before the light bursts forth we are on our faces in several inches of mud and water. "Who's that?" comes in a low tono from the roadside. "We are going too far; tho entrance is here." We turn to the left, off the road and scramble between two mounds of earth into the trenches. Here and there are braziers burning, and dark figures, like souls in hell, are gathered round them. Now and then a figure half disappears in the darkness as he leans over the parapet in front and fires at something ho cannot see, and Sow and again a bullet thuds into the parapet above us. We are told to leave tho pump, and, with aching arms, wo lean the standard against the side sf the trench.. The corporal goes off to ;eport to to the officer in charge, and wo talk to the men nearest. They toll us they have had a quiet night so far, and we get a sij> of hot tea brewed on tho nearest brazier. "Tako care when you leave," they tell us; "there's a Hun post only twenty yards away." The corporal returns and wo file out again but, just as we reach the road a star-shell flares up and wo throw ourselves on our faces. The rifles speak louder and more quickly, another starshell rises, and another regular fusillade breaks out from the main lines, and our men are replying. The bullets seem to. wSistle just above our heads, "and one can feel the mud and water of tho road soaking into one's knees and arms. Shall we over bo able to get up? Wc lie still for ten minutes; then the uproar dies down; it/ seems to pass away towards the north, and we got up and hurry on. Four times within a hundred jards we have to throve ourselves.,

on the ground, but by degrees we get past the crest of the ridge, and a friendly hedge, through which stray bullets _ whistle, screens us from the inimediato view of the enemy. AVe go hack faster than we came", but' when Wb reach our billot three hours have passed since wo started. "Wo are plastered jvith mud from head to foot, and wet to the skin, but for a beginner it' has been quito an interesting evening.— From tliN "Daily Mail."