"CHEERO"

Dominion, Volume 10, Issue 2980, 18 January 1917, Page 6

"CHEERO"

THE BRITISH SPIRIT ALL THROUGH

INCIDENTS AT THE FRONT

(By A. G. Hamlin, in "Y.M.") "Oheero!" That is the greeting you'll often hear at the back of the lines in Flanders and France; not "Good-day," "How do you do?" or any such phrase, conventional and nearly meaningless; but the more blithe and heartening "Cheero!" It is a pregnant word, openingly confessing that circumstances are not those one would choose, and recognising that life.-is uphill and toilsome; nevertheless, it declares faith and hope are, still present to inspire eheemilness and confidence. On many a rainy night in mid-winter I have passed a battalion marching up the muddy road to sodden, grim trendies. "Cheers, and good luck" is my greeting, and hack conies a strong chorus, "Chccro—good night." Those "reliefs" frequently passed us as they went to take the places of tired comrades up there in the wretched "salient" ; the wonder stirred in us when first we saw them never diminished,' nor did our admiration burn low, at the steady cheeriness. We knew enough about tho iil'e "up there" to marvel at the steadiness of the men who, knowing it so well from miserablo and terrible experience, yet marched hack to it again, again, and again, not with a grouse, but instead a heartening "Oheero!"

Mr. Atkins's "Grouse." Of course it would he false to declaro that Mr. Atkins does not grouse on occasion. Of course he does —in common with the ljest of Britishers who claim a gruniblo as their privilege. But tli© fact forcing itself upon one who has lived at the back of tho lines for nearly a twelve-month is tho surprising confidence and circumstances expressed in .their characteristic greeting, "Cheero, mate I" I've often heard addressed to a grouser, "Cheerol Tho first seven years of a year is always the worst!" And, said a man to me ono day, when the Bocho gunners were paying our villago most unwelcome attentions, "Don't worry about shells, mister; it ain't no uso. If thoy don't 'it yer, you worries, for nothing, and if they do 'it yer, yer wont know it." There is a device of the Boches with effects worse than those wrought by shell-fire, at least, more depressmg. I mean gas. Ugh I All our experience of gas forces us to loathe tho devilish poison. But, even so, a certain gas attack not long ago was the occasion of an inspiring incident. The troops who had borne the brunt of the attack were relieved soon after, and came back to billets in the village. "Back all right, you see," said one of the men to me, and then said, "How d'ye like this poetry?" Here are the lines:—

Now, on the order "Gas, alert!' Yon pin your helmet to j'our shirt; For Una you use a safety-pin, But mind how far you stick it iu. Unfold your helmet from your coat, And grasp it tightly round the throatj If you don't do this your friends will see A nice little cross with "R.1.P."

And when old "Fritz" conies over the top, You fire your Rim with a pop-pop-pop; Then Fritz will race towards Mossinos, Crying, "Gott! Ach Jlimmel! Dey vos de Queens."

That was composed in the trenches after a gas attack! Cbeero! Cheero!" is the message to tho folks at homo. You who thought that tho war would surely finish before the winter—if it doesn't then cheero! "It is much worse in the trendies" wo at the back of the lines used to say in the dog days of last winter. Often it was fairly bad for us, but how could we grumble when the boys, covered from helmet to sodden boots with thick mud, marched down tho road from the salient whistling a merry tune and greeting us with a. lusty "Cheero! Hero wo are again."