AT THE FRONT.

Taranaki Daily News, 3 August 1917, Page 8

AT THE FRONT.

. INTERESTING IMPRESSIONS. OF A TARANAKI BOY SINCE KILLED The following notes are from Rifleman Lewis Albert 'Warren, and were posted the day before the great 'battle of Messines. lie. enlisted with the 4th I>attalion of Lord Liverpool's Own, 'was severely wounds! on June f>. 191(1, had five month* in hospital, and then retumed to the front, where he was killed in action at the battle of Messines. He said: —People at home have often asked for details of our experiences, and our life in general at the front. It would require a book to give anything like a full account of our doings, and of all things of interest out here: but a rough narration of some actual experiences during mv first fortnight "up the line" may give some insight to the routine of an infantry unit when just holding the line.

i As a recruit, having done the prelim- ' inary training in New Zealand, anil the • advanced stages in "Old mighty," I Jiaii | been very gradually broken to military ; life. Many civilian ideas and customs. 1 impracticable as a soldier, Imd been cast ! aside long before the time 1 found liiv- • self marked "draft for France." At this juncture I felt that 1 was "up against it" at last, and resigned myself to army discipline, and only now to strict regulation dress, earing no longer 'whether the hair is to he shorn oil, or as To the quality of the "issue'' putties, or about the orders prohibiting the wearing of riding breeches. Once on the French side of the Channel, what with strange language, the people and the Continental customs, there is much to keep the boys of the neiv draft interested during a further

fortnight we must needs put in before going up to tjie front. Landed at the ba>e. we hear all sorts of rumors and unollicial accounts of "what's doing" up in the "ditches," and •a fascinating uncertainty as to what is before us induces one to hop out to catch the lirst "lip the line" draft. On the journey up the new comers look ■with unmistakable awe upon a passing hospital train," the huge guns, the truck loads of shells, the armored cars, thousands and thousands of troops, and upon the millions of pounds' worth of war material dumped everywhere along the rail road.

Getting well on the way, we prick up our ears now at the boom of the guns, and know that before iong all hands will have to leave the train and take to the rnad. With full pack up, we set out on the march, soon after entering into the danger zone. A guide tells us. to our relief, that we don't go far hut remain at n "rest camp" for the night, and join lip with our units to-morrow. The traffic of transports here is endless anrt troops, troops are everywhere. A crowd of "Ausici" (Australians) on the march greet us cheerily with "Good day. Digger?!" or "Hullo, Kiwis," and one begins to understand the brotherhood between the Australian and New .Zealand troops. Jlie next day nvo march up to a camp of liniments, where the boys arc billeted during their spell "out," and we are proud to shake hands with old friends ' n'ho came out some time before and Tfho have come through many a "strafe." No need to ask questions as i to what dug up those charred looking craters all round the place, or as to what caused all those splintered and jagged holes in the roof of the Y.M.C.A. hut. <>ur mini- are not put any more at case, cither, when informed that only a few di\ys before old "Fritz" smote the

•wiiole area at dead of night, and a number of cur resting comrades rose no more.

However, we are here now and lueky to join up at the time when the battalion is having its turn "out." Eight days are to be spent thus going close up to the front line every night on fatigue. We start off the next evening at dusk, and after a three miles march, passing many of our own heavy guns in action en route, we halt for spades and gum boots. We hero leave the road, and take to the sap pr communication treueh which leads to the front, and is good protection from the enemy's machine gun fira.

Those guns we hear barking, and the shells we hear screaming overhead are ours. The noises are a little disconcerting at first; but we wind our way up the trench without incident until a few of Fritz's high explosive shells lob pretty close, sending fragments in all directions.

The new chums arc a little alarmed, but gain confidence when they .see the old. hands apparently taking no notice. Although our hair stands on end at times when illuminating star shells are up, and the Hun machine guns play in our direction, the night's task is carried out without casualty. Wo land hack at the camp just before dawn thoroughly fatigued and sleep most of the ensuin" day. °

The same sort of work is carried on uninterruptedly for a few nights until Fritz detects the results of our labors. The next night, then, he greets our working party with a fearful artillery barrage. For half an hour a tornado of shells of all species, machine gun fire, and, in fact, everything except gas, Tains over the earth that night, .Casualties are slight, thanks to the cover afforded by the holes we had just dug; but all hands are a little nervous about carrying on there again the next night, especially when they learn that "Fritz" had another go at the spot during the day. However, except for an occasional shell and machine gun burst at intervals we are not worried during the remaining few nights of our eight days.

It is now our turn to take oyer the trenches. We relieve a battalion of our own brigade, and during; the day march up as close as possible under cover of a big hill. Here we wait for darkness, and set out again with bayonet previously Whetted and rifle magazines charged. We move up in Indian file to uor sector where one half of our strength take over the front line, and the remainder the support trenches for a period of four days, after which the two reliefs change places These periods prove very eventful, but many comrades are with us no more. The day time is quiet enough for the infantry, and aircraft fighting and reconnoitring proves a spectacular diversion for (he new chums.

The niglit3 are anything hut quiet, and on the first we are disastrously entertained with a bombardment, followed by an enemy raid, which we beat off successfully.

During the next four nights more artillery "strafes'' and the men of the late* draft soon learn to know and dread what is coming when ''Fritz" signals to bis Latteries with red or a green star shell. In responso to the entwy's activity our big guns send streams of shells roaring and screeching over to oM "Fritz's" lines, and we arc all agreed as to which side we are the safer on.

After our nerve-trying week of allnight virgils on the firesteps, watching listening, ducking, we are .clad to be relieved. and to get back to the billots again. Twenty-four hours' rest, and then the same routine over again. Our enthusiasm very soon disappears, especially 'when we realise that the only thing likely to alter our lot is to make ail advance, and then perhaps get away to a quieter sector for a few months' easier time. '

A few things. though, which help to make life out lioro tolerable must not escape mention. To boyin with, we are fed and clothed well. We are paid regularlv and have opportunities occasionally of getting back to the villages. Canteens catering exclusively for the troops are' everywhere The Y..W.C.A. •people are in evidence right up to the muzzles of the enemy's puns one might say, and that institution arranges concerts, lectures, and services for 'is. Further, they provide free tea, and snacks for all passing troons, and thus help many a knock-ed-up warior on liis way. Mails are sorted as soon as they arrive, and gift parcels are distributed frequently. Last bus!, not least, the padre finds his way right up to the front line almost daily, and gives us papers, cigarettes, and words of encouragement, lie will ''do" us, at anv rate, and is always welcome Although the boys are always cheerful, and quite determined ir, see it through, I think very few will be sovrv when the whole business is over, am! .. -atisfactorv peace brings us hack to the home, which now at times seems su distant.