TROOPS AT REST.

Taihape Daily Times, 21 November 1917, Page 6

TROOPS AT REST.

HAPPY MONTHS BEHIND .LINES. FARMING WITH THE PEASANTS “•A MILITARY PICNIC.” (From the Sydney Sun’s Special \ Representative.) FRANCE, August 31. Australian troops here In France are well, happy and contented. They have never looked in better trim. They are earning the name of “The Stout Brigades.” It is all good muscle, hardened and developed by continuous battle and ceaseless training —even in the battle conditions of trench warfare training and fighting go hand-in-hand I have never seen our veterans in such splendid condition. The reason is that for a moderate number of weeks —quite an unprecedented number in the history of the A.1.F., in France —these men have been having a prolonged and pleasant military picnic. They have been out of the line. The military term is * ‘resting.” That hardly fits the case, as the men remark, because work and drill go on all the time, and everybody gets his orders every day as of old. Brigadiers are terrors for parades and manoeuvres and “rehearsals,” and other things involving carrying full packs for long hours over wet or dusty country. But .hardened soldiers fake them all in the routine of a campaign. It has been a real rest so far, as nerves are concerned and physical danger,' and physical hardships. Our men have seen a good deal of Northern France in this time. They have been living in lovely French countrysides. They have slept under shelter, and worked and played on green fields about pleasant French farmhouses. They "have been scattered so far over these northern provinces that the country from sea to Belgium seems occupied with nothing but Australian soldiers. Regular food, regular sleep, regular tasks —leave to London or Paris or some neighbouring French c ity_time for reading and writing and, visiting Australians has been a world of advantage to the troops. The troops have had the luck to be quartered in a province of France they had always liked. In these parts there is plenty to buy at cheap prices, unaffected greeting amongst the people, much friendly greeting. The French people here live like one great family and they have welcomed the Australians into it. Passing along the byroads, one sees Australian soldiers helping the women and children, and the old men, to pick the hops, to cut the wood, to harvest the crops. Officers have encouraged Australians harvesting on a wholesale scale. Squads of men march out in the morning to

the fields, and spend quiet and pleasant days cutting corn and building the stacks. Their rifles are stacked by the roadside, and they are still soldiers. I doubt if they stop to think they are helping to beat the Germans by cutting the French crops. But they are always satisfied with days spent

in this way There are many thousands of Australian soldiers scattered over Northern France in this way to-day. Yet there has never been a complaint of criminal offence, and women~and girls move about in perfect security. Black sheep are to be expected in every fold, but the Australian soldier has a truly high sense of honour, and he is keeping his name good in France. To picture these troops to-day—-they will have been taking their part

in deadlier work before this letter is

published—you must think of a lovely countryside thickly settled many little fields and cross road villages and here and there' tall spires cf cities standing , out, It is all green, the deep sombre green of woods and thickets, the lighter green of hedges and potato crops the light and gay green of grass and stripped fields. Three scenes I have come upon in the last few days have been very typical very Australian, very true bits of life behind the lines. The first was the great inspection. Ceremonial takes up a lot of the time of the army even in the trenches. It is essential to the institution. The inspection was ' the climax of the ceremonial. The men were drawn up in deep lines, covering many acres. So many Australian soldiers have never been gathered together before. For t£e first time one realised the power and extent of the A.I.F. Bayonets glistened over thousands of Australian troopsj When they moved the countryside seemed alive with stalwart khaki forms.

The inspecting general and Ms staff passed down line after line of our soldiers and horses galloped and pranced about the review ground as in the days when we thought no enemies existed or soldiers were a pleasing'tHTtl picturesque set of toys. Then the boys marched past,—some in platoon /depth the others in company depth—and tho leading officers were called up and shook hands and were walked with. These aro peaceful occasions. Officers and men see their leaders, the men wno decide when and where they are to atta.de, what trenches they must

held, what form of fighting is best to achieve victory. The personal contact is necessarily limited in a warfare between millions. That is why the Germans make so much of the name and prestige of Hindenburg amongst their troops

For another scene I would take you to a small village, all white walls and low red roofs, a mere little cross-road farming hamlet. For here you would see installed a part of the army that men never fail to enjoy. It is the onforts Fund headquarters for this small section of the troops, the home of the cinema, and the headquarters also of a section of the Australian Y.M.C.A. The diligent emissaries of Comforts Fund, A.Y.M.C.A. and cinema people are never failing friends to the men. They see to the social side—the entertainment and the letter writing room crowded with men, one of them perhaps laboriously writing to you. The little makeshift hall alongside would be filled with soldiers enjoying pictures, and further on some active agents of the Comforts Fund would be distributing some simple needs, or perhaps dispensing tea or coffee.

But of all behind-the-lines scenes I should most like you to see the —th Brigade marching back from the trenches, after long and difficult fighting They pass in Saltations, each ’headed by its own band, These are the soldiers as they fight, somewhat mudstained, weary, battle-worn going back to rest.

Here are the boys as they are when on the job. Their khaki, a little worn, does not hide their naked strength. Their kit and rifles, with the bayonets by their side, show the marks of use. Their faces have the old look of enduring eagerness and their march /is that of the hardy soldier. What cheers would go up if they were marching like this through Sydney or Melbourne! And I fancy that this company that is passing now would whistle the same tune. It is a poor tune, but Australian—the tune of Anzac and the Southland and the Somme and Fromelles and Bullecourt and Messines and the Ballarat—merely —“Australia Will Be There“—but the tune that the boys know ana fight to.