WAR JOTTINGS

Taihape Daily Times, Volume 7, Issue 171, 24 March 1915, Page 3

WAR JOTTINGS

COLONIALS' PASSWORD

The Commanding Officer look up a position with the object of determining for himself just how the soldiers behave towards sentries, and Avhether the troops seriously recognise the position as regards pickets. Presently the tramp of approaching footsteps was heard. "Halt! Who goes there?" demanded the officer. "Sects Greys!" came the clear reply. "Pass on, Scots ©reys!" ordered the officer. More footsteps. "Halt! Who goes there?" "Grenadier Guards," answered a respectful voice. "Pass on, Grenadidr Guards!" Then in the darkness, the steps of some more soldiers. "HaltWho goes there?" exclaimed the officer. "Mind your own,—— business!" cam'e the reply. "Pass on, Canadians!" ordered the officer. —-"London Opinion."

. GERMAN BRIBERY. The gentle art of German persuasiveness is illustrated again in the case of the Cologne "Volkzeitung," which has thunderously denounced the Dutch newspaper, the "Tyd," as "in the paid .service of England and France," and warned it that it had better go straight, or, etc., etc., etc. And, when the bellowing ceased and its reverberations died away, the "Tyd" gently replied that no proposal of bribery had comia to it from either England or France. One" such proposal had, however, reached it during the early stages of the war. It came from Germany, and had been declined. And now the "Tyd" publishes these interesting facts in the frankest possible way. It really is amazing how German delicacy continues to manifest itself with these gaucheries. "FRIGHTFULNESS" OF WAR. The following extract from a letter written by a young Bavarian lieutenant to his mother was published in the German Socialist paper " Vqrwaerts": "People at home who are always impatiently expecting big victories can form no picture of the misery of the population. What war fails to destroy the German army, which is simply insatiable, devours. We spare our Fatherland as much as possible, and take all from the enemy.

"When the war is over, all tba districts in which the war has been waged will be utterly destitute. Once it happened to me whan requisitioning horses that an old and feeble man bent his knee before me while his wife tried to embrace me, and his daughter, as if mad, flung herself on the neck of the horse, wept over it, and when the horses were le'd away fell to the ground shrieking 'Je mourral.' The son twned hi s face to the door and wept bitterly. "I wanted to leave them one of the horses, but it was impossible. I had to obey my orders. Yes, dear mother, such is war." —Pauter.

DIED WITH A SMILE. A pathetic story is told by a wounded soldier, new home, of an Irishman. "We came on him," he said, "after one of the fights on the Aisne. 'What can we do for you?' wja asked tenderly, for we could see he was not long llor this wdrld, *-Can ycju whittle?' was the surprising reply. "Two of us said we could, and asked what he 1 would like. 'A Nation Once Again,' he replied. "Tommy Burke whistled a few bars, and the dyin£ man's eyes were fixed on him firmly all the time. When it was oyer he held out his hand to Tommy and said: 'Thank you, lad; it does me heart good, to hear the ould tune for the last time this side of the grave.' Then he turned over and died with a smile on his face."

A SOLDIER'S GRAVE. Peaceful, upon the quiet hillside, he rests alone, our gallant soldiej; son. The air is fragrant with the! scent of dying flowers. The last rays of the s-tting sun rest lingeringly upon the spot, as though reluctant to leave him alone to the night. Only a few short hours ago they brought his body thither; the silent representative of his many comrades who lie upon the battlefield. Slowly they come up the hill to the sound cf muffled drums, A-ums that B eemed like the ghostly echoes from far across the sea where the fight still rages. A short prayer for his soul, three volleys reverberating amongst the hills, a last farewell from the busies, and what men call life is over for him. The bread bosom of Nature has received him again, as she is now receiving so many of her noblest sons. Shall we ever see them again? Ah! who can tell? Must they only become a memory for ever more? What angel from the skies shall compensate for the gallant lads who marched away so gaily only a few short week s ago. Life has its compensations, they say; but what shall comfort weeping widowhood, what shall comfort shadowed childhood with the tragedy of life and death thrust too early upon it? And yet, in the name of God, such things are.

Yon quiet grave is the symbol of it all, of that land wheVe men struggle together unwearyingly, where death hangs like a pall over fields that only a few weeks ago were bright with sunshine. "God give us victory!" we cry; but what /power in Heaven, or

on Earth, shall give us back cur gallant dead?

In the years to ccmie, shall men lose all memory of the horror and the blood? Shall they build them cities, shall they feast and make me:fry on the fields where our men are dying today? Truly; for such is the way of generations. But weep not, then whose beloved lis far away. His glory, his honour lies buried with his comrade here, upon this quiet hillside. No profan* foot shall ever here disturb his (rest. Go then, ye desolate', and kneel where, amidst the lengtheninig shadows, there is peace.—C.C.M.G. in the "Scotsman."

THE LION'S LEAP. Dr. Maximilian Harden, a German editor whose influence is said to be immense, has recently been expounding the aims and ambitions of his counijymen They wish neither French nor Russian territory—only to plant the flag of Empire (German) on the Strait of Dover. He proceeds: "To the Belgians we are the Arch-imp and the Tenant of the Pool of Hell. We shall retain the Belgian netherland, to which we shall add the thin strip of coast up to the rear of Calais (you Frenchman have enough better harbours, anyway)—then terminate of our own accord this war." But not before another wish has been gratified—"that which every German heart yearns for —a victory over England • . . Lion, leap! On cur own young soil we await thee!" Well, the Tenants of the Pool of Hell have had an example of the Lien's leap in the defeat inflicted on them by I-I.M.S. Lion at sea. In good time we hope to see the Lion finish the work so well begun,