WITH THE ANZACS IN FRANCE

Dominion, Volume 9, Issue 2842, 5 August 1916, Page 3

WITH THE ANZACS IN FRANCE

THE SOUNDS OF STRIFE , RAIDING ADVENTURES (From Mr. Malcolm Ross, Official War Correspondent with the N.Z. -Forces.) • Northern France, Juno 18. It takes some time to get used to new noises in war. At Anzac we knew almost every gun by -name, and could sleep -through a duet, by "Bcacliy Bill" and • "Startling Annie," to say nothing of the melody of our own howitzers and lield guns. • At times, when we were very tired, even tho resounding bang from the, destroyer .'on' our Hank failed to wake us. "Did you hear old Beachey pooping off this morning?" was a.frequent query. And as often as not the answer was in tho negative. We used lather to admire "Beachey," and many friendly messages were left behind for him. I have often wondered where he has pitched his new emplacement. We had also . a great affection for. tho destroyer. There were two of tbem—one on each flank—and their memory will live. Our particular destroyer was on the left, and the Lord, and perhaps tho Turk, knows how . much, we have to thank her for. • Here in France it is all different, and just as the eye has to 'get used to new sights, so tho ear has to get used to new sounds. There aro guns of so many types and calibres, and a charming variety in bombs; from the docile "Mills," which you can handle affectionately before presentation to the enemy, to the big, fat, trench-mortar fellows, describing a graceful arc from trench to trench; from the rifle grenade, that goes away like a rocketing pheasant, to the more decorous flight of the ball thrown- from the big catapult, that reminds you of the times' and expedients of Julius Caesar. Noises of the Night. And there are all the other, sounds of war. Even the first night in a town near the firing line is a novel experience. After a tiring <lay in the trenches and a late dinner you go to bed at peace with everyone—including the enemy. But that frame of mind does not last. In the so-called silence of the night a continuous -rumble strikes in upon- trie ear. It .is the noise that comes from many wheels of motor-lorries and carts, and it seems to continue unceasingly. Night after night it will go oh until the war ends. Jt comes from the transport, taking food, and ammunition, and timber, ■ and- wire, - and goodness only knows what else besides. Before the War we thought that rather a safe job. Yet there is not a night along our extensive front that men are not killed nnd wounded at that work. About a week ago it was a stirring sight to see the Australians galloping their teams along a shrapnelled road at night in answer to a message for more ammunition for their guns. The men on the limbers sat with folded arms, as if 011 parade. The I'umble of the wheels goe3 on till far into the night. At intervals you recognise the old familiar tat-tat-tatting of machine guns. These arc sweeping the parapets or spraying the roads and saps along which food for man and gun is being carried. The wonder is that so few aro hit. At times you hear the measured tramp of a platoon or company—a working party or a relief bound for the trenches. It is a peculiar sound that tramp! tramp! tramp! of marching men. You can -hear the spring and creak of the leather in their boots as they pass.

The dial of your illuminated wristwatch tells you liow 'the hours so past. Probably.towards midnight you aro startled with a ioud and continuous ia:inonade. It begins with an appalling suddenness, a'iid inoi-eases in intensity. .It may last for ten minutes or for an hour, or foi fseveral hours. If for the shorter period you know it is a raid; if for the longer you surmise a moro general attack., The guns on cither side give tongue, in a loud dissonance, the concussion rattling your,windows and making the very earth tremble. You' count the discharges not by so many a minute, but by so many a. second. . The., bigger, shells go. tearing through the air with a noise of rending cloth. pf.._,h.uge.....dimension -...and- great strength. The smaller ones come with an insidious whistle and the crunch of higli explosive almost before the-whistle lias ended.. These ■ are "whiz-bangs." There- are others that dome even a bit quicker.-They might be called the " bangwhizes." And so the night goes on. Next( morning at your tea and toast, in the security of your home,.you may..readi.in sa<f communique that there was '"comparative, quiet all-along the line.". And so there was. 'What we have been' listening to is a' -mere madrigal of war compared with the Wagnerian noises that rend the aiv at Ypres and Verdun. Raiding a Trench. V A few years ago suet a cannonade as we have frequently bad on our frontshells coming three and four a second, and the whole sky illuminated with their Slashings—would presage a big battle. But when, after ten or twenty minutes or an hour, the fire dies down, wo know that it is only a small foray—what we call a cutting-out expedition. For a few hundred yards the enemy's trench ;s or our own, as the case may be, aro blown to bits, and most "of the men in them killed or wounded or stupefied. Tho men who aro to do the raiding then climb over their parapet, go with v a rush across the hundred yards or so of NoMan's Land, jump into the trenches of the enemy, which are breached and battered beyond recognition, kill a few men, securo some prisoners and material—papers, bombs, flares, trencli mortars, or even machine-guns—and then get back nsi best they can to their own trenches, through- a hail of the enemy's shrapnel. They are protected from serious attack by their own guns, which, as they start out, suddenly switch off right and left to prevent reserves coming along the enemy trench and in the centre lift to form a barrage behind that will prevent help arriving from that .direction. Oil- the way back they may leave a few of their own men. dead or wounded in No-Mail's land, but generally the honours aje with the raiding party. As a rule, more are killed ana wounded by the shelling. The matter is all thought out beforehand to tho minutest detail—the calm and deliberate diabolicalness of it is simply amazing. But'remember it has all been made possiblo by tho gentle apostles of culture—the peace-loving nation that,.to.save its own coul and body, had to wage a terrible campaign against warlike Belgium .and militant England! • Our patrols go out over our parapet at night, right up to the German wire. They listen to the Germans talking; and recently they had heard amongst them 6ome rather juvenile voices. Occasionally they meet an opposing patrol, and then there is trouble. It is valorous work this crawling through No-Man's Land like a lied Indian through the prairio grass, especially when flares are sent up and illumine the immediate surroundings, but there aro lots of men who delight in it. Indeed, even for a non-combatant the temptation to make one of a patrol is hard to resist. A few nights ago a young Wellington officer out in charge of a patrol came suddenly upon a German party out to mend their wire. As the New Zealanders were largely outnumbered they scuttled back to the safety of their own trenches. As they gave the pass-word and hurriedly hopped over their own .parapet, one liiau making a great noiso as he landed on a tin periscope, they seemed to bo inv am used. At all events'the young c,;';. uvatly enjoyed the experience, and ■ : i..■ vi;lit of it;, instead of being intensely dramatic, was concerned only with the humour of tho situation. He regarded it as a great bit of luck that ho had been able to get out on two night patrols within a week. An Otago member of Parliament who enlisted as a private, and is now r junior officer, had also the good luck to lead a night patrol into No-Man's I,and. For such work there is no lack of volunteers. Recently when men were wanted for a raid 011 the German trenches practically the whole of an Australian battalion volunteered, though only twenty or thirty men waro wanted. Two nights ago the Australians made their second successful raid', returning with several prisoners. Tho Now Zealanders have not yet had the chance, but it may come soon.