NEAR THE FRONT

Dominion, Volume 10, Issue 2955, 19 December 1916, Page 6

NEAR THE FRONT

A SOLDIER'SLETTERS

CHATS ABOUT THE LIFE THERE

A young Wellington oilicer now on active servico in Franco, in recent lettors to his family in AVellington, has somo interesting things to tell about life at tlio front closo up to and-be-hind the lighting linos. A remark or two about French methods of business:— '^ "When I went into town I went to lunch at a restaurant which I often frequented when we were in that town before. The worthy proprietress recognised me, and wolcomed me as a long-lost son, and sat down beside mo at the table, asking innumerable questions. Sho kept up a running firo of conversation all through the meal, and absolutely insisted upon mo having one of her own omelettes after I had had a very reasonable dish of veal and green peas. When I left sho asked mo when I was coming back, and told mo to bo sure and do so, to her place for lunch. "At tho place whero I bought the grapes I came across an instanco of French business methods which I thought rather amusing. There were some very fino grapes in tho window, and I bought a bunch. Just as the girl was wrapping them up, she said: '1 have some more here, not so dear.' Could you imagine a British shopkeeper saying that? It is quite common, too, for those French people to warn you off their fruit, etc, if it is not quite up to the mark. They don't try to beat us much here, as tho people in the South did, bust em!" This is what he says about what one may sco on a visit to a dug-out: "Here and there are what we call dug-outs, but which are actually builtup shelters,_ composed mainly of sandbags. Go into any of these, say my" own, and you will find a bunk looking like a lumber room—everything is heaved on to the poor' old bunk!—a box table and 'chrtir,' or perhaps a real chair and 'poled' at great personal risk (?) from a shell-stricken farmhouse. Around the walls are 'engravings' of Bairnsfather, socks, shirts, and all the 'ghastly panoply of war,' from Very pistols (for firing flares) to trench mortar and Mill bombs, and 'dud' shells of all descriptions. Space is at a premium, as you will notice if you rise incautiously, with these low roofs! All my goods and chattels are disposed on nails and shelves around the walls and? under tho bunk.

"If the rations aro up to the mark you may bo invited to 'dinner.' The plates will usually be the first notice-, able shortage—your host will hastily assure you that he always has his stew in the lid of his mess-tin, and will assert later that he always cuts up his meat with his jack-knife, and also despises spoons and forks. But you find that tho Arniy can sometimes serve, us meat otherwise than a stew, and it is quite possible to get a really tasty meal from the. rations alone. "After your meal perhaps you will bo invited to witness a strafe by the' übiquitous trench mortars; this is usually accepted, and you go along to an erection of sandbags open on one side, and there you see what looks like a length of stove-pipe on two legs. This' is the trench mortar itself, and the attendant sprites aro only t<;o glad to show off for your benefit. You secure a periscope, settle yourself in a convenient bay, and prepare to watch' events. Suddenly thero is a sound like a. huge cork being drawn—that is the Stokes shell -leaving the gun. and ion see it slowly circle over to Fritz's parapet, see it drop; then—a flash, a roar, and sandbags and timber fly up in-tlie air. The strafe has begun, and once your gunner lias the Tango he 'puts 'em across' as fast as he can go. c Suddenly comes a yell, 'Look outl Pineapples!' You watch where the pineapple is coming, for they are easy to dodge, and the justly indignant gunner lets fly faster than ever. Dirt and timber fly up on both sides, and once'at last things quieten down, and peace reigns; the strage is over."