CHARGE OF THE LORRY BRIGADE.

King Country Chronicle, Volume IX, Issue 744, 10 February 1915, Page 7

CHARGE OF THE LORRY BRIGADE.

•9 NORTHERN FRANCE 11 «® There is a popular impression that the men of the transport service spend «their lives in the rear of the firing line and that they have little share in the adventures of the troops in battle. It is true that they are more in ' the rear than most other arms of the Service, and their work is more useful than romantic, but nevertheless there ara plenty of men in the Army Service Corps who can tell stories of tight corners and narrow escapes which they seems as a rule thoroughly to enjoy. 1 have heard during the last few days several accounts of the various adventures these fellows meet with, told by ex-motor omnibus drivers, van drivers, and others. One of them was of a thrilling charge made by half a dozen heavy lorries quite recently, and was related to me by one of the men who took part in it. This man wag driving one of a column of heavy ammunition wagons up to the firing line. Through, an error of the man with the map the convoy arrived at a point laangerously near the enemy's lin n s. It was perceived by the foe, who sent out some cavalry to. cut it off, while artillery opened fire and shells began to fall unpleasantly near the ammunition. The officer in command thought there was no chance of the whole convoy escaping, but saw a sporting chance of getting through with some of it. He ordered all the men on to the first half dozen lorries and took the wheel of the first one himself. They had acted promptly, bui the enemy had lost no time, and it was a race between the horses and the wagons. The horses won, and the men of the -convoy could see them lining the road and preparing a gauntlet f« them to run. The forlorn hope moved on, however; the wagons lumbered along at their dizziest speed and bore down on the waiting cavalry. Rifles cracked and spat; bullets drummed and whistled.

- "I ducked my head and stamped on the accelerator," said the mm who told me the story, "and we simply sailed through them. They didn't hit one of us, but it was a warm time while it lasted. Then they tried to chase us, but Boon gave it up. My old car^ never went so faßt in her life." THE PUTNEY MOTOR-OMNIBUS DRIVER Another experience of a different character, but equally exciting, and incidentally showing that audacity brings its own reward, was related to me by an ex-motor omnibus driver from Putney, who shared in it. The heroes of the story were a lieutenant and three men who had the misfortune to be captured with their mptor wagon. The first thought of our men when they are captured, unlike the Germans, is to escape and the party in question, by adroit use of a fortuitous circumstance, were able to get clear away—and with tbeir wagon, too! The evening-of their capture they lay down to sleep by the car, which was drawn up by the roadside, their guard being . a lusty infantryman. The latter, however, had indulged in sundry mild potations before coming on duty, and before very long the sound of hife snores gave notice of hia state of dreams. This was the prisoners' chance The carburetter was thoroughly tickled and all precautions for an easy start made, the engine, was started, and away they went through the sleeping camp, which prubably thought the wagon one of their own, and next morning the little party turned up smiling among their comrades Even for a man who takes no special interest in such matters there is quite a fascination about this motor transport I had a very interesting experience when I visited a baße hospital for v^agons —not men — where motors of all descriptions are sent for repairs and overhaul after the stresses and strains of battle. It is situated in a large works where there is a machine shop available fof the engineers and lifting tackle for big jobs. There were drawn up in lines about seventy motor-wagons of every type and size, with two dozen or so of, mixed motor cars with various injuries and diseases being attended and operated upon. One of the cars had been on fire and looked a pretty wreck, fit for nothing at all, but I was assured that in a few days, when its burns had been dressed, it would be as good as ever. Next to it was a big car which until recently boasted a luxurious limousine body, in which generals, staff officers, and others of high degree were wont to 1011. All it boasted when I saw it was that which a shell had left of its former grandeur, but the doctors were confident of speedy recovery. In another part of the "ward" was a stumpy little black car, minus tyres, very woe-begone, which had been peppered by a machine gun and had come out in spots of lead. It had been captured from the Germans, I was told, and was not good for much; it appears that the Germans run their cars off their wheels in the same way that they march their men off their legs.