CARRYING ON THE WIRE

Dominion, Volume 10, Issue 2917, 1 November 1916, Page 6

CARRYING ON THE WIRE

TELEPHONE OPERATORS IN TFIE

FRONT- LINE

HEROES WHO ALSO SERVE

(By 11. W., in tho "Daily Mail.")

Telephone oporators in the troncbes aro seldom in the limelight. More often than not they are in unshellproof dugouts. Their services aro of vital importance in up-to-date warfare, and well do they perform them. A party of tolephono operators, or signallers as they technically known, is attached to a company occupying a front-line trench. Tho dug-out where thoy and their instrument are installed is as near the company commander's headquarters as can bo conveniently arranged. It must be remembered that a dug-out is seldom a haven of rest, and never of safety. During a bombardment a dugout is quite the most unhealthy place "that tan bo selected. Tho work of theso men is not by any means always of a stationary nature. They have to repair their wires when broken—often under heavy fire. When an advance 13 made by tho troops thoy have to follow closely tho unit to which they are attached, so as quickly to establish communication with the officer directing operations. In tho Firing Line. Tho sun has just sunk behind tho ragged outlino of a stack of Bhell-shat-tered brickwork which was once a thriving. factory. Through tbe twilight tho lioche trenches show up clearly at first, then gradually fade into the darkness, which slowly but surely shrouds thein in grim gloom. As though to brighten the solemnity of thoir surroundings tho Bocho sends up star-shells with a frequency which suggests a bad attack of the "jumps." In tho British trench our Tommies have just learned that they are to go "over tho parapet" ill the morning. Tho news has acted liko a tonic, for at last the time has arrived for them to have a real good fling at the Eoches. Tho British guns, which, according to custom, had sunk into silence with the setting of the suu, suddenly resume their bombardment of the enemy's lines, which they have carried on incessantly during the day. In almost instant answer to tho booming challenge the Boche guns belch back their reply. Then '"'things begin to hum" in tho British trench. The men tako the Best shelter they can. The only dugout occupied in the line is by the telephono operators. Inside this candlelit, cave-like abode the threo operators aro indulging in a friendly gamo of "nap." It helps to pass the time, which flies but slowly to those who wait expectantly for tho "dircct bit" of a shell which luckily may neper arrive. At each deal ono of them takes up tho receiver and "calls up" the operator at the other end, to make sure the wire is unbroken.

Again and again clods of clay, displaced by shells exploding in tho vicinity, fall with dull thuds on the sandbagged roof. The handis of the players holding the cards shake palsiedly in sympathy with tho shuddering floor on which they sit tailor-wiso, as a 9in. high-explosive bursts almost fatally near.

"Close go thatl" observes one. "Means the next will lie farther away," asserts another optimistically. The gamo of chanco inside and outside the dug-out goes on uninterruptedly .till a timo arrives when no answer can be obtained on the telephone. "Wire's broken," ejaoulates tho operator holding the receiver. Without a word the other two, clutching up their rifles and tools, pass out into the white light of the star-shells. As they clamber over the rear parapet and trudge along, following the wire, more dangerous shells are falling with monotonous regularity to right and left of thorn. To heed such happenings is worse than useless. Hut luck is with tliem, and at last they pass unhurt out'of the shelled zone into comparative safety. At length they reach a sholl-hole, tho eausc of their unwish-fid-for promenade. Tho work of splicing a new piece of wire to the broken ends is soon accomplished. Then they retrace tlioir steps to the dug-out —and the danger iwue. Luckily it was tho only breakage that occurred during tho night. The Pawn and the Dead. The rising sun is just peeping over tho horizon as though curious to loam what has happened m its absonce. In the British trench the captain stands oyeing his wrist-watch impatiently from time to time. Tho men's faces are wearing a. Christmas morning expression.- They beam with good will ona to the other. But in their hearts there is neither pcaco nor goodwill to the German foe. Tho grip oil their rifles is stronger than is absolutely nccessary. The British guns are still blazing away at the Bodies' front trenches.

Suddenly tho captain raises his eyes from his wat-ch, and with a Quick scramble is on'tho parapet. "Over, boys!" he shouts gaily. There is no cheer; only the scuffling sounds of men clambering, intermingled with heavy breathing. As far as the eyo can see to right and left there is a wrinkled wave of khaki-clad men surging forward.

The three tclenhono operators, in accordance with orders, are waiting till their comrades have taken tho hostile trench. They interpret those orders in tho widest sense, for the attacking force can scarcely be said to havo readied their objective before tho three of them arc doubling across. One carries a spool of wire which, lie unreels as lie sprints along, the others carry tools and tho instrument. Between their starting point and objective tho German guns arc nutting a dense barrago through which they must pass. Shrajinol spatter on all'sides like tho first ominous drops-of rain which precede a summer storm. Bullets, fired from tho roar trenches of the enomv at tho newly-won position, "phit" past in countings numbers. Suddenly the man with tho reel of wire spins half-round, stairgers, and falls. "Only through'the thig". I'll follow on," ho grinds out, as he bands his burden to a comrade, who, jorking out a quick word of sympathy, dashes on once more. Tho two gain tlio.captured trench where their captain awaits them. Out of breath with his rccent exerlie pants out: "Rig tlie 'phone up hero," pointin" to a deep shell-hole. "Onlv placet Cover from riflo firo anyway.*' The two men quickly adjust their Instrument, and tho captain, after handing a written message to bo sent through, hurries a.way. Tho German guns are now playing on the newly-won position, the heavy boom of high explosives intermingling with the snap-liko report of the shrapnel shells'! Tho captain porceives a mass of tho enemy collecting for a counter-attack. Ho hurrios hack to tho telephone to notify tho artillery of the target. A glanco into tho shell-hole shows that the shrapnel lias taken toll—one of tho operators is dead. Tho other is lying with tho receiver to liis oar, but ho returns no answer to_ his superior's call. In a flash the captain realises that that recumbent position is too natural to bo natural. Ho gently takes the receiver

from tho stiffened hands and gots his message through. Then, glancing up, he sees a man on all-fours, looking down into tho sholl-hole. It is tho wounded operator who has crawled painfully alter his comrades. "I'll carry on, sir," says the newcomer quietly.