SHORT WAR STORIES.

Manawatu Herald, Volume XXXIX, Issue 1712, 15 May 1917, Page 1

SHORT WAR STORIES.

There is an amusing' story being told of .1. 0. Francis, the author of “Change.'’ He is a Tommy in the Engineers, and rang up a Welsh officer at the War Office and asked him, “If he would speak to a common sapper,” “Certainly,” was the reply, “who are you ?” Francis said who he was. “Oh,” came a most disappointed voice. “I thought you said flapper!” "While home on leave, a member of the Liverpool Scottish was asked whether the soldiers knew beforehand when they were going to be called upon to deliver an assault. “Well,” was the reply, “they don’t tell us exactly, but we always know. If a number of army chaplains suddenly turn up we make a pretty good guess that something of the sort is going to happen before long. And if they serve us with pudding for dinner before we go into the trendies —well, then we know for certain.” A trawler skipper, on returning from his period at sea, made the customary visit to his senior officer, and was asked why he had not obeyed certain instructions which had been given him. He professed ignorance of the orders in question, and was reminded that they had been handed him with his sailing orders. . “Oh,” says he, “do you mean yon printed paper you gave me?” “Yes.” “Why, I saw it were marked ‘Secret,’ so I gave it to (’missus to lock up ’fore I sailed.” A grizzled old colonel, who had seen a good deal of active service, did not view with pleasure the recent promotions of younger and almost unknown officers who were jumped over his head. Strolling about camp one day, he came upon an officer fondling a monkey. “Colonel,” said the officer, “this is the most remarkable monkey 1 ever saw. Why he can take a stick and go through, the manual of arms almost as well as one of the soldiers.” “Sh!” cautioned the colonel, glancing about in great alarm, “Don't tell anybody. Supposing the War Office heal'd of if? They’d make him a brigadier-Cencral!” Another lime, and 1 believe it was the same gallant corps, they had got lo their objective, and sen! Fritz out of it at the double, bui unfortunately they had no prisoners. This naturally was rather disappoinling.and they looked about them to see what could be done. On their right were the Royal Cairngorms, a canny lot of Scotsmen, who were busy counting a very fine faf batch of Huns, who had Kameraded, and were gleefully wending their way towards our lines. The opportunity seemed a priceless one, so the Galways struck a bargain; One moderately clean Fritz in exchange for six sand bags —one (brown back for luck. A parly of soldiers home on leave had been presented with a ten-shil-ling note from a wealthy admirer, and speedily hied themselves lo a public-house to change it.

All went well until a certain corporal, who had an extraordinary big month, was asked wind particular sort of “poison” he would like.

“Thanks," lit 1 said, “i'll have a mouthful of Scotch whisky." “No you won't, sonny,” said the holder of the note, looking first at fhe money and then at the capacious jaws of the corporal. “You’ll have just the same as (he others!”

It was in the big offensive that an officer of (he Gordons witnessed what he termed “(he finest thing he ever saw in his life.” Ho saw 600 Bodies of all ranks marching in column of route across the open back towards our rear. They were disarmed, of course; and what do you think they had for escort? Three ragged “looks” of the Gordons, all blood and dirt and rags, with their rifles at the slope, doing a sort of G.O.C.’s inspection parade march, like fiipers at the head of a battalion.

“That was good enough for me,” said fhe officer when telling the story. “I brought up the rear, and that’s how I got to the dressingstation and had my arm dressed. I walked behind a 600 strong column of Bodies, but I could not equal the swagger of tlie.-e three Jocks in the lead.”