NEAR THE FIRING LINE.

Kaipara and Waitemata Echo, 18 April 1918, Page 2

NEAR THE FIRING LINE.

THE T.M.C.A. WORKER.

The following article describes in a whimsical way some of the demands made upon tli3 leaders of that amazing movement, the Y.M.O.A, in their advanced positions In France and Flanders.

It is a somewhat quaint business being almobt the only .permanent. British resident i n the place : one becomes a sort of Lost Dog's Home. During the course of a recent day. J-... interviewed and assisted (or ot]jjfl£ wise) the following:— '^T (a) A chaplain who sought tw\» other chaplains said vaguely to be ''somewhere about here."

(b) An officer in quest of signal cable.

(c) Someone attached- to a gas school who wanted a Strombos Horn,

(d) A captain running a cinema, and searching for missing films. (c) Two men searching for the senior medical officer of the district.

(f) A complete sanitary section looking for their billet.

(g) Three somewhat drunk Highlanders who had nowhere to sleep and did not know how to get there if they had. Finally— (h) Late at night, knocked up by a cyclist who wanted to borrow a map. One becomes also a repository for oddments of luggage, a post-box for letters, and an information bureau.

It is quite easy to become one of (the " oldest iuhabitants " in a town or village inhabited by the floating population of war j one has only to stop in one place a few weeks and tho male population (British) changes as if by magic—sometimes literally in a night.. At times one foels "disgruntled" and disorganised. But, of course, everyone lives in that condition out here, and orders to more may reach anyone at any time, in an estimate, in their bath, in their sleep, ■ during a service, or, worst of all, just before a meal.

There are also things which one cannot possibly do. Among them one remembers requests to:— fa) Take charge of a monxey. (b) Send cablegrams to Australia. (c) Provide food for 50 men in half~an-hour.

(d) Produce 20 bottles of sodawater in a dugout miles from town. (c) Look after a lunatic. (f) Lecture on Russian music; and (g) Explain (briefly, on a high road) the prophecies of the Book of Revelation.

From this it may be inferred that one's duties are numerous and varied. " Admiral Crichton " would be somewhat at a loss in places, I fancy. The acquirements of peace-time, such as an extensive knowledge of London, a close acquaintance with Bradshaw, and^ a slight idea of County Council by-laws hardly help one out here. True, the regulations are plentiful— so plentiful indeed, that one knows them all—but they seem to deal with offences against other regulations, and do not provide instructions as to methods of dealing with lunatics and refractory Scotchmen, or give any hint of how to make a palatable meal out of cold "maconchie" and biscuits, or even give a hint as, to repairing ancient pianos or making a bed out of biscuit tins.

It is curious to speculate what we shall all do -when peace is declared, and we get out of the hideous mustard coloured garments that we all affect. Shall we, for instance, bo unable to wblk about our native town without consulting a map. Shall we reKname our houses in trench fashion —"Vermin Villa," "Bats JJetreat," and the liice ? Shall we find ourselves unable to sleep in sheets, or to use more than one knife and fork for our meals ? Shall we all forget to stamp our letters, or to order our meals? Ido not know.

Everyone is, however, entirely and absolutely determined— (a) Never to talk of the war. (b) Never to eat anything out of a tin.

(d) Never to grumble at Anything at home.