A “RISE” FOR THE HUN.

Hokitika Guardian, 27 January 1917, Page 4

A “RISE” FOR THE HUN.

Firing a Big Mine on the British Front Serie-UOinic Suspense. \ Mysterious comings and goings happened round the jealously guarded mi on shaft, littered with sandbags. The R.E. Tunnelling Section had been very bu <y for tDys *, .sr,, and great things were felt to he in the air. il Don’t pr> down the nv~i 0 , Pad ? y!” said a muddj looking sentry to a weary tunuellar.

“ Think ycr funny, don’t yer ?” said the tunneiler, disappearing down the ■haft.

Briefly, the mine shaft was about to justify its existence by ceasing to exist. And nothing in its life became it half bo much as the leaving of it. For the tired looking tunnellers had finished their preparations; that night the explosive in air tight bags was to be carried down by a fatigue party, and the nice large hole was to be filled up Thus far the engineers. From this point the infantry continued tbs story. First there would be a crater party. Next there would be a firing party. Thirdly, there would be a sandbag party. And in the end there would be a burial party, although it was not mentioned at the conference.

THE “ WAITS.” Back in the B.E. meas in a little village, Second Lieut Halls, of the RB Tunnelling Section, asked irritably for a whisky and soda. “ How’s it going P asked another tunneiler.

“All tight. We’rß ready now. Devil of a job. Tamping up when I left. Pass the paper over.” And Second Lieut Halls, having directed the packing of some thousands of pounds of explosive into a large hole, which act would in time involve large changes in the landscape, proceeds to look at the pictures. Later he stood in the orderlyroom. „ “Everything to ready, I understand.” said the C.R E. “ Yearir.”

“I’ve seen the infantry people. Let it rip at 4 p.ra. to-moirnw. Report by cod 3 word, If ail serene, “Cabbage ’ If anything goes wrong ‘B.lgo.’ Synchronise watches with "brigadeat 2 p,m, to-morrow,and good /luck.”

Brills went to his l i-let and slept. The R.E. Damp, always a scene of much profane activity, since most working parties call there, was in a state of super-excitement. There were huge piles of concertina-patDrn barbed wire, many bnndlss of corkscrew stakes, and bales of eandbags, all demanded by one comoany, end the clemcr.d was bricked by the brigade and given i preoadenoa over all other demands. The R.E. Dump asked itself curiously : ” What the blszas was up ?” as the carrying parties roiled off into the night, steadily depleting the Btook-in-trade. Outside, in the rain, a wistful and somewhat damp lieutenant waited with a carrying party from another b&ttaliro, hoping against hope that the stock would run out, so that he need not bother about the wiring party Bomeone had arranged far him; “ Where the ‘ ell it’s all goin ’ to I dunno,” said one of the R.E. Dampers confidentally. “They've took enough concertinas an ’ posts to wire the ‘ ole bloomin’ front, back au’ both sides.’ But the Bupply did not give out, and the lieutenant had hia party, which was perhaps just as well. Higher up the road the Brigade Bomb Store was a'so having an anxious time. Half the neighbourhood seemed to be carrying trench mortar bombs that night, and the trenches were a delirious welter of people tryiDg to get past bomb parties, wire parties, ration parties, and what not.

“ They’ve asked for a nice little orowd this time,” said the storemaD. “ Them trench mortal’ fellers is the boy?.”

“ Somebody’s goin’ to ’ave a Guy Forks, that’s about it,” said bis assistant,

“ An’ I’m glad it ain’t me,” said the storeman, who was all in favour of a quiet life.

Among other people more or leas mixed up were the ELF. A., who spent several hours the day before registering, and several hours that night carting up extra rounds of H.E. and shrapnel; the machine gun officer who was to go with the crater party, and had to arrange about his supply of ammunition ; the M. 0., who had an advanced dressing station to arrange ; and last, but not least, the company

sergeant-major, who did most of the arranging of the various parties, looked after the stores as they came up, and in general was a very present help in ‘trouble, as he usually 1S» Iu a large sand-bagged chateau the next day the Brigade Major and the Brigadier were lunching. “ Going to see the balloon go up ?’ suggested ‘he B M. “ I think eo. Should be exciting. The Iv.P-A.’s the best. O.P. 1 think we l 1 have an tally te . U.deriy 1” “ Yessir,”

“ Tea at three chis afternoon sharp.” “ Yessir.” And so even the orderly was dragged In. Down in a dug out by the light of a candle O.G. Trench Mortars consulted bis map aud male notes. Then he went to give his last instructions to the gun team. As he went out an orderly returned with hia watch. “ Brigade time, air, and a note for

you,” “ Thank you.” He opened the note and read : “Zero time, 4 p.m.” He passed on to the bomb store and looked at the pile of “ toffee apples ” or “ plum duffs,” as some call them. Over the doorway a notice had been tacked —“ It is more blessed to give than to receive,”

THE “ BALLOON *’ GOES UP. It wants but six minutes to four. Seoond Lieutenant Jones lies in waiting with his party. The wirers, under Second Lieut Wills, also strain at the leash under their load of concertinas. 0.0, Trench Mortars waits, watch in hand. 0.0. Company has hia ear to the telephone. The Brigadier sits aloft in a draughty 0.P., with his eye glued to a telescope. Second Lieut Halls, of the R.E. Tunnellere, strikes a matoh-hsad embedded in the fuse on the box. There is a slight fizz and a tbia wbiep of blue smoke riser. There is no sound save an occasional far-off explosion down the line. “Four minutes,” says Hal 1",

A lark rises from No-Man’s Lind. Higher and higher it cl inks, Binging in the sunshine. “Three minutes.” Jones is twietiug a bit of wire in his hand mechanically. “Two minutes.” The lark sings on. “One minute.” A vision of the spark oreeping nearer aud nearer through the long black fuse in tbe deserted mine. “Ten eecondp,” says Hails. The lark is still singing. “TIME!”

Lark, sky, sun, trench, and everything blotted out by a huge column of olimbing earth that shoots up, spreading as it goes. Things whirl out of the column and bits hum through tbe air. The earth shakes, the trenches sesm to shrug themselves, and bits of earth roll down from tbs sides. The terrific rending ro«r of the explos on is muffle! or else tbe eais cannot grasp it. The black shadow of the column hangs still for au instant then begins to pour down again out of the air with a climbing pattering noise round tbe edges of tbe gaping white bole in the earth. Over the top go the crater party and the sand baggers. Down to company headquarters goes Saoond Lieutenant Halls, and asks to be put on to the C.R.E, His message is brief: “ Cabbage, 4 p.m.” Then he goes home to tea.

THE DELUGE—AND AFTER.

The sandbaggera have built a sort of barricade, which they are rapidly improving. Meanwhile Second Lieutenant Jones has divided his party into two, half creeping round each edge of the crater. They reach the fartbar edge, and, peeping over, Jones eees the Boche crater party, hastily gathered together, rushing forward. As they gee to close quarters ho givos the Bignal, a short whistle blast, and from all around the crater Mills bombs fly, bursting viciously among the advancing Boohes. The machine gun rattles madly among them as they hesitate and break for cover, Soon after the shells arrive, and the chalk begins to fly. One, pitching close to the sand* baggers, blow's one of the party into the bottom of the crater minus an arm and a foot. The centre of the crater is a death trap, for everything tends to roll there, most things drop there, and the explosions of shells on the sides bring down the loose chalk, so that it is dangerously easy to be buried. Yet the sergeant sandbagger is a worthy man, and slides down the side to the poor devil at the bottom, managing somehow to. get him out and into safety. And as that is hardly part of his ordinary duties, in the fullness of time he has a Military Medal. Our trench mortars, the first of which sailed over at 4 p.m precisely, are living up to their motto, and the “ toffee apples ” are curving over in fine style. Then Second Lieutenant Wills leads out his wiring party on to far lip of the crater, whioh is perhaps rather more than was expected of him, for it ia still daylight, and in entire disregard of all the enemy can do, which of course is not too much while the T.M.B.’s are busy, the party proceeds to put up wire, The only pause is that needed from time to time to carry casualties to the rear round the edge of the crater. And by nightfall Hull's Crater, as it was called, was part of the line.

In the communique the next day appeared the following : —“ We blew a mine in the R sector this afternoon and occupied the lip of the orater without difficulty.” Wbioh does not sound very muob, but whioh means quite a lot really.—O.C, Platoon, in the “ Manchester Guardian.”