THE FOREIGN LEGION.

Taranaki Daily News, Volume LVII, Issue 238, 17 March 1915, Page 7

THE FOREIGN LEGION.

l'lCU' IM'3 JOIH FOR CHRISTMAS. REMARKABLE PEN PICTURE FROM Til 10 TRE-NICIIES. A - young English sportsman who joined "the French Foreign Legion at the beginning of the war, has written home a wondirful picture of his Christmas. Day. "My two hours in the trqnrhes'Oil the edge of an old orchard enilp.il at midnight on Christmas Eve. A liell rang in the ruined village, and Instantly, a great volley, preconcerted, rattled all along our line. It was our ivay of heralding Christmas wfch a message of 'Peace on earth and goodwill toward men.' Slowly dawn rose. And there was T, with rifle between two loopholes, the ground white with frost, and feeding a tame robin at my feot with bread-crumbs. It was the only Christmassy thing thing on this Christmas morn. On my left ( in what remained of a.ohce beautiful old church, I could see a lovely old oak carved screen and pulpit all shattered. Every house in the village was ruined. Two bullfinches nnd a little flock of chaffinches joined iny robin just at dawn. Suddenly, I heard deep singing on my extreme right. Tt swelled louder and louder as it passed along the line .towards me. It was the stirring strain of the 'Marseillaise.' We joined in with our loudest, our little lot in the orchard, and the French regiments on our left took it up. How wild and ncautifiil it sounded in the semidarkness. Then it died out. And from the (lcrm.ui trenches came the answering roll of the 'Watch, on the Rhine.' That deep-throated chorus died down, too. Then came the sterner music of volley answering voile#, from trench to trench, and T emptied my magazine of eight cartridges in that strange concert."

A BIRTHDAY'"TURN." Another interesting letter conies from a young cavalry ollicer, a Britisher, who describes his first turn in the trenches, which came on his birthday. "Presently the order passed down the line that all cigarettes and pipes were to be extinguished and no .words spoken. We saw the charred remains of farm buildings looming up on the sides of .the road and went through a deserted village_ groping our way, stopping for several minutes, and then on again, everything dead silent except the whistling of the wind' through the ruins of the houses as we passed, and the dull echo of the distant guns, a sort of 'slam-,* then a 'thud,' and then deep silence again. I did hot know it at the time, but we were then going through the dangcy zone of tho enemy's artillery. It was snowing hard now. My shoulders ached through carrying my bandolier and haversack. It was a long-drawn nightmare. Once something came up to me and asked in a slow, drawling voice whether the leading squadron had gone on. Thinking it might be a German spy, I turned away and replied rather rudely that I knew nothing about it. 'Who are. von?' drawled the voice t to which I replied 'Who'are you?' It turned out to be the major, our second in conijjnand, jan'd after a hasty apology on my part, we agreed that tlixj whole thing was 'bloody' »ind lost each other in the gloom. After passing across ground that was churned up by the enemy's shell, this youngster came to the trenches, damp, moist, unpleasant holes out of which the French soldiers came whom they were 'relieving. He gives an amusing description of the enthusiasm —all on oho side—with which the French greeted them. "They almost wept over us." Then his squadron commander came up nnd whispered to him to follow him \v ; th his own troop. "As I did so, I saw the stretcher-bearers filing out with the ambulance. things in the same direction, and T must confess that my blood ran rather cold for a minute." The French faptain very cordially gave this cavalry thus suddenly turned into an infantry man on his birthday, a lot of mystifying information to tile effect that they were "wired to the front," that this particular trench was isolated, and '-'very dangerous." The youngster adds:'After shaking me by the hand in a manner 'which indicated that we should never have the pleasure of doiivj; ;.o hgain on this earth, he bent low and disappeared into the darkness. Somehow. [ felt quite interested all of a sudden, and the bullets which went 'ping-pinging about our ears only seemed to be pa>-i, of a game. But what a birthday

THE TEUTON ANGLOPTTOBE.

Another officer, a more experienced campaigner and a very cool band, who is now over in London on leave gives fc particularly interestui? account of the informal truce on Chrisbmas Day. "The whole thing was like a half-time at some groat football match. Between the men at auv rate all enmity was forgotten, and they drank to one another's health. Their N.C.O.'s were far more reserved and. serfous: they were very watchful, too. As I went up to speak to the first of then he inspected me in a most distrustful manner, as if half-expecting me to produce a revolver. He w.iE a sergeantmajor, and a very superior type of man. With him was an 'unterofli/ier' in an extremely clean and snmrc uniform. He was of the student tjr.v, his fac-"! marked with unmistakably duelling scars. He was the most -cnoiis of ihem all. He told me grimly that Germany would never lose her hat'nd for the .English for having left her in the lurch. How, when or why we have done this I eauld not. imagine, but he was hoptlessly one of those iron Germans W;th whom it was impossible to converse uo.in any national topic with ;-al"Vv. So after I had made a very f-v slight protests against his accusation he was good enough to close the discission with a cold observation that we should ;ee who was right after the wir.'' Th's German officer was full of the lies the German papers had puhlV.livl ahovit our concentration camps, but. a 'itt'e -private, a student of Bonn, cheerfully agreed that " the newspapers had been rcspon- | sible for the whole war.'

TOMMY COMES MARCHING HOME. The home-coming on short war-leave of our soldiers from the front is often even move romantic than it seems. Many of tl >o mon who come over t v mn Franco, smart and sprneo in h now fitout. hut deeply gipsved by tho prim life f»r the open, wlion thov set foot on tho boat's gangway to <ro ashore have not soon England for five or seven years. There arc soldiers whose regiments luivo been ordered to Franco from India or some olhor foreign station. Tt is easy to imagine the sentiments with wh!:.*h thov once more hehnld FnCfK-di faros nnd the familiar glimpses of London. They often complain of hoing ovu\lno. to find their way alwnt London. Coi'knoy, a fine soldier in tho Anst-rji'inn contingent. apologised for asking his way in Fleet Street. TTo said: " Tt's so dismal dark, and it's twelve rears since T wis liero. and—haven't you widened the streets or something?" The captain of n Channel transport casts another light on the wintrv home-coming of the heroes in khaki. U T had eleven big non-coms., 1 " he laughed, "all lying on deck in a row, and groaning, 'Oh, for a Jack Johnson.' Another quaint touch that shows tlic new adventurous life the war has

brought to gome of our Channel porta concerns a millionaire duke, one of the most famous names in England, who is now in khaki and acting principally aa a sort of King's Messenger, travelling backwards and forwards from England to France. He has to rough it like all the others and on landing on this side recently was reduced to borrowing half-a-crown from a man in charge of the pier buffet. It is only fair to say that tie duke paid it back like a man on his next trip. Nolilesse oblige. But the barman was "a bit