THE DESPATCH RIDER'S LIFE.

Hokitika Guardian, 29 April 1918, Page 4

THE DESPATCH RIDER' S LIFE.

i(By One of Them ; In a recent article “ .lackstaff: ” deftly threw on to the screen an attractive film of the Despatch Rider on' the road in France. Here is, briefly, the life of the D.R. to-day sketched from the inside by himself. Since the line became practically stationary yon can divide the R.E. motor-cyclist roughly into two classes. Despatch ridess of G.H.Q., Lines of Communication, Army am? Corps, ride well behind the line. TheiV Work calls for gieat endurance during long speedy rides, and for nerve m tvalife, skids and smashes. Divis’d ', Brigade, and Carrier Pigeon Service D.D.s, or. the other band, working shorter distances with more advanced units, are allowed in among the explosions. They often ride roads as rough as a river-bed and juggle a path between two streams of contrary traffic.

To both, the nightmare of life is winter riding in the moonless dark or mist Imagine blundering up through Division mudgrease to the sloughs of Brigade, bumping over shell-punched pave, crab-crawling past bumpless limbers, mules, lorries, troops, without a light in a winter stoim of fog! In long distance riding yon get dazed as you cramp on to your rut-wobbled handlebars and peer over the battered flickering lamp for a break in the trance of trees and houses sliding by bn either side like tall prison walls under a long slit of sky. Heavy snow defeats a, despatch rider. His wet driving-belt slips, his engine “revs” to no purpose, he is limp with pushing and kicking ; and finally he bangs the bicycle into a farmyard and pounds over the drifts of white on foot or horse. # *- * * After a nigh,t ride the tousled, dirtspattered D R. rises late to break his fast on bacon and eggs and sundries. In the morning lie will oil and adjust his machine, and then “push up.” In the afternoon, marketing, cards, a nap, fill his leisure hours, with music at the village tea-shop or estaminet in the evening. Fortified by a good mess (on motor-cycles one can round up good “manger” from outlying canteens), he buckles on for his night “ stunt ” again.

There is ah establishment, of so many IJ.R.s to each unit. If working in shifts, a set of men will be on duty from, say, 6 to. 10 p.m., and then from 8 to 1 next morning, and again at 10 p.m. for night duty. The following" day the same shift will work from 1 to 6 in the.afternoon, and will then he off duty for 24 hours, resuming as''before at 6 in the even-

Owing to these irregular hours the D.R. cannot be fitted into the usual restrictions. He thus develops a personal note of living and dress. Racing helmets, sou’ westers, chrome oilskins and gauntlets; ponchos, overalls, trench coats, and laced leather belts; gumboots, artillery jackboots, pigskins and glistening “ tans ” ; Scotch scarves and cord breeches—these are his mark on active service.

It is not easy to enter the Despatch Rider’s freemasonry. Grin as you are pestled to powder in the mortar of critical wit; lend money,-.oil stove, lamp, generator, pump, tube, bicycle, to the always destitute pal ; lie a mechanic without tools and a Santa Claus stuffed with despatches; fend for yourself as if the Army didn’t exist; learn that there’s little pity for the “dud”—then you may step into a “live ” company of youths—resourcefnl, resolute, versatile, freely snubbed, freely sought —a unit that knows its job and never cracks up.

QUIT THAT COUGH,

BAXTER’S WAY.

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