FROM ONE OF OUR BOYS.

Manawatu Herald, Volume XL, Issue 1797, 5 March 1918, Page 3

FROM ONE OF OUR BOYS.

Pte. Geoff. Field, son of Mr W. H. Feild, M.P. for this constituency, writes interestingly from France under date November 23rd. He says; — “At present I can consider myself on a bit of a win, being well back behind the lines in a rest camp, and living in a good dry hut, with a couple of warm blankets every night. Compared with what I have been accustomed to for the last two months, the draughty huts and hard lloor is a haven of rest, and as there is a first-rate Y.M.C.A. handy, lam pretty well off. There is plenty of work, however, and the fatigues we have been engaged on lately are not of the lightest. For the past few days we have been engaged in draining some of the country which has been recently advanced over, and as the ground is terribly torn up by shell-tire, it is very heavy going. We leave our billets at daybreak, and ride up to the line in motor lorries. The journey is very trying, as the roads are very rough, and we get well shaken up, as the lorry jolts over the filled-in shells holes. When we reach our destination we don long rubber boots up to our waists, and armed with a shovel we endeavour to make a start cutting a drain through liquid mud. The work is very heavy while it lasts, and as the water is very cold we have to go fairly hard to keep ourselves warm. During the day, fritz treats us to a few long-range shells, intended for our heavy batteries, but they have not got close enough to do us any damage yet. None of us are sorry when the day’s work is finished, as we are wet through and covered in mud from head to foot. The ride home again in the lorries is not too pleasant, and by (he time we have got some of the dirt off, and had some tea, we are ready for bed. That has been our usual routine for the past week, and at the front it is commonly known as “having a rest.” But it is bettor (ban being in the line, amid the continual roar of the artillery and the eternal rattle of the machine-guns, and it the war doesn’t last too long this job will do me for a while. 1 have now been, five months in France, and have seen enough fighting to hist; me all my life. It loots as though we are in for another winter of war, and if I am not wrong, it will he a winter with continuous operations on the ‘Western Front, involving some very heavy fighting to be put through yet. Since 1 have been tit the front, I have seen the machinery of the army working daring a big advance, and really the British Army is an amazing organisation. I had a pretty good idea of what I was coining to when I left New Zealand, hut what I have seen over here completely surpasses anything that I could form in my imagination. The numbers of men and horses, and the amount of material that is requirt ed is sfupenduous, and when you see the British lines of to-day it is wonderful what three years of war Ims done. I have always been more or less prejudiced against the British Army, with its countless blunders and time-worn customs, hut to give it its due, it is certainly a marvellous fighting machine to-day. Unless you have been here and seen the enormous operations that arc carried out yon can scarcely form any idea at home of Avlmt is actually going on in France to-day, I have seen men from every corner of the British Empire working together with horses and guns, and on the roads behind the lines there is an endless stream of men from all parts of the earth, each with his own piece of work to do. As for the motor transport and the artillery, there is hardly space to describe it. I don’t wonder that petrol is so expensive, when such tremendous supplies arc needed to keep the thousands of lorries and cars going over here. I have always

been very interested in the artillery, and the number and size of tlio guns is a revelation to me. If you are standing anywhere near one of the big howitzers, the blast almost blows you off your feet when it is fired. When several hundred of them ‘are going at the same time it is like an earthquake and a thunderstorm combined, and the ground simply rocks under'your feet. The noise is; deafening, and they can often hear the roar of the Flanders guns over on the other side of the Channel. It is wonderful to watch the aeroplanes and the methods they have of, communicating with the artillery, giving the ranges of the Hun trenches and bn ((cries. I have seen some great combats in (he air between the rival airmen, and it is an awe-inspiring sight to see the ’planes circling in mid-air, their mach-ine-guns spitting (he whole time, and we have lo keep our heads pretty low when the pieces of bomb and shrapnel begin to drop.”