Chapter I

_By Bruce Bairnsfather_

Bullets and Billets

Fragments from France

A Few Fragments from His Life

FRAGMENTS FROM FRANCE

BY

CAPTAIN BRUCE BAIRNSFATHER

AUTHOR OF "BULLETS AND BILLETS"

G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS
NEW YORK AND LONDON
The Knickerbocker Press
1917

FOREWORD

_By the Editor of "The Bystander."_

HEN Tommy went out to the great war, he went smiling, and singing the latest ditty of the halls. The enemy scowled. War, said his professors of kultur and his hymnsters of hate, could never be waged in the Tipperary spirit, and the nation that sent to the front soldiers who sang and laughed must be the very decadent England they had all along denounced as unworthy of world-power.

I fear the enemy will be even more infuriated when he turns over the pages of this book. In it the spirit of the British citizen soldier, who, hating war as he hated hell, flocked to the colours to have his whack at the apostles of blood and iron, is translated to cold and permanent print. Here is the great war reduced to grim and gruesome absurdity. It is not fun poked by a mere looker-on, it is the fun felt in the war by one who has been through it.

Captain Bruce Bairnsfather has stayed at that "farm" which is portrayed in the double page of the book; he has endured that shell-swept "'ole" that is depicted on the cover; he has watched the disappearance of that "blinkin' parapet" shown on one page; has had his hair cut under fire as shown on another. And having been through it all, he has just put down what he has seen and heard and felt and smelt and--laughed at.

Captain Bairnsfather went to the front in no mood of a "chiel takin' notes." It was the notes that took him. Before the war, some time a regular soldier, some time an engineer, he had little other idea than to sketch for mischief, on walls and shirt cuffs, and tablecloths. Without the war he might never have put pencil to paper for publication. But the war insisted.

It is not for his mere editor to forecast his vogue in posterity. Naturally I hope it will be a lasting one, but I am prejudiced. Let me, however, quote a letter which reached Captain Bairnsfather from somewhere in France:

"Twenty years after peace has been declared there
will be no more potent stimulus to the
recollections of an old soldier than your
admirable sketches of trench life. May I, with all
deference, congratulate you on your humour, your
fidelity, your something-else not easily
defined--I mean your power of expressing in black
and white a condition of mind."

I hope that this forecast is a true one. If this sketch book is worthy to outlast the days of the war, and to be kept for remembrance on the shelves of those who have lived through it, it will have done its bit. For will it not be a standing reminder of the _ingloriousness_ of war, its preposterous absurdity, and of its futility as a means of settling the affairs of nations?

When the ardent Jingo of the day after to-morrow rattles the sabre, let there be somewhere handy a copy of "Fragments from France" that can be opened in front of him, at any page, just to remind him of what war is really like as it is fought in "civilised" times.

Captain Bairnsfather has become a household word--or perhaps one should say a trench-hold word. Who is ever the worse for a laugh? Certainly not the soldier in trench or dug-out or shell-swept billet. Rather may it be said that the Bairnsfather laughter has acted in thousands of cases as an antidote to the bane of depression. It is the good fortune of the British Army to possess such an antidote, and the ill-fortune of the other belligerents that they do not possess its equivalent.

This picture was taken at the Front, less than a quarter of a mile from the German trenches. Captain Bairnsfather has come "straight off the mud," and is wearing a fur coat, a Balaclava helmet, and gum boots. Immediately behind him is a hole made by a "Jack Johnson" shell.]

A Scots officer, writing in the _Edinburgh Evening News_, hits the true sentiment towards Bairnsfather of the Army in France when he writes:

"To us out here the 'Fragments' are the very
quintessence of life. We sit moping over a smoky
charcoal fire in a dug-out. Suddenly someone, more
wide-awake than others remembers the 'Fragments.'
Out it comes, and we laugh uproariously over each
picture. For are these not the very things we are
witnessing every day, incidents full of tragic
humour? The fed-up spirit you see on the faces of
Bairnsfather's pictures is a sham--a mask beneath
which there lies something that is essentially
British."

In a communication received by Captain Bairnsfather an eminent Member of Parliament writes: "You are rising to be a factor in the situation, just as Gillray was a factor in the Napoleonic wars." The difference is, however, that instead of turning his satire exclusively upon the enemy, as did Gillray, Captain Bairnsfather turns his--good-humouredly always--on his fellow-warriors. This habit of ours of making fun of ourselves has come by now to be fairly well understood by even the most sensitive and serious-minded of our continental friends and neighbours. It hardly needs nowadays to be pointed out that it is a fixed condition of the national life that wherever Britons are working together in any common object, whether in school, college, profession, or even warfare, they must never _appear_ to be regarding their occupation too seriously. Those who know us--and who, nowadays, has the excuse for not knowing us, seeing how very much we have been discussed?--understand that our frivolity is apparent and not real. Because we have the gift of laughter, we are no less appreciative of grim realities than are our scowling enemies, and nobody knows that better in these days than those scowling enemies themselves.

Their hymns of hate and prayers for punishment have been impotent expressions of exasperation at our coolness, deliberation, and inflexible determination--qualities they had deluded themselves before the war into believing would prove all a sham before the first blast of frightfulness. They told themselves that, a war once actually begun, the imperturbable pipe-smoking John Bull would be transformed into a cowering craven. More complete confusion of this false belief is nowhere to be found than in these "Fragments." It ranks as a colossal German defeat that successive bloodthirsty assaults upon us by land, sea, and air should produce a Bairnsfather, depicting the "contemptible little Army," swollen out of all recognition, settling humorously down to war as though it were the normal business of life.

"Fed up"? Yes, that is the word by which to describe, if you like, the prevalent Bairnsfather expression of countenance. But the kind of weariness he depicts is the reverse of the kind that implies "give up." _Au contraire, mes amis!_ The "fed-up" Bairnsfather man is a fixture. "_J'y suis_," he might exclaim, if he spoke French, "_et il m'embête que j'y suis. Je voudrais que je n'y sois pas. Mais j'y suis, et, mes bons camarades, par tous les dieux, j'y reste!_"

If the enemy should read in the words "fed up" a sign that our tenacity is giving out, he reads it wrong; grim will be the disillusionment of any hopes he may build upon his misreading, and even grimmer the anger of those whom he may have deluded.

These _verdammte Engländer_ are never what they seem, but are always something unpleasantly different. We are the Great Enigma of the war, and in our mystery lies our greatest strength. Let us be careful not to lose it. Those who would have us simplify ourselves upon the continental model, and present to the world a picture of sombre seriousness, are asking us to change our national character. Cromwell asked the painter to paint him, "warts and all." Bairnsfather sketches us--smiles and all. And who would take the smiles off the "dials" of the figures you will see on the pages that follow?

IN ONE OF THE CHOICEST LOCALITIES OF NORTHERN FRANCE.

TO BE LET (three minutes from German trenches), this attractive and

WELL-BUILT DUG-OUT,

containing one reception-kitchen-bedroom and UP-TO-DATE FUNK HOLE (4ft. by 6ft.), all modern inconveniences, including gas and water. This desirable Residence stands one foot above water level, commanding an excellent view of the enemy trenches.

EXCELLENT SHOOTING (SNIPE AND DUCK).

--Particulars of the late Tenant, Room 6, Base Hospital, Bonlog c.]

What is this slimy dismal hole
Where oft I'm lurking like a mole
And cursing Germans heart and soul?
My Dug-Out

Where is it that beneath the floor
The water's rising more and more
And where the roof's a broken door?
My Dug-Out

Where is it that I try to sleep
Betwixt alarms, when up I leap
And dash through water four feet deep?
My Dug-Out

Where is it that I'll catch a chill
And lose my only quinine pill
And probably remain until----
I'm dug out?
My Dug-Out

My Dug-Out: A lay of the trenches.]

"Oh, star of eve, whose tender beam
Falls on my spirit's troubled dream."

--_Wolfram's Aria in "Tannhäuser."_]

In an old-fashioned house in France an opening will shortly occur for a young man, with good prospects of getting a rise.]

A member of the Gravediggers' Corps joking with a private in the Orphans' Battalion, prior to a frontal attack.]

mine!

A Proposal in Flanders.

The point of Jean's pitchfork awakens a sense of duty in a mine that shirked.]

Sentry: "'Alt! Who goes there?"

He of the Bundle: "You shut yer ---- mouth, or I'll ---- come and knock yer ---- head off!"

Sentry: "Pass, friend!"]

The Young and Talkative One: "Who made that 'ole?"

The Fed-up One: "Mice."]

"I'm sure they'll 'ear this damn thing squeakin'."]

"Fire should be withheld till a favourable target presents itself."]

Private Jones (late "Zogitoff," the comedy wire artist) appreciably reduces the quantity of hate per yard of frontage.]

"I see the War Babies' Battalion is a coming out."]

Owing to dawn breaking sooner than he anticipated, that inventive fellow, Private Jones, has a trying time with his latest creation, "The Little Plugstreet," the sniper's friend.]

Private Smith, the company bomber, formerly "Shinio," the popular juggler, frequently causes considerable anxiety to his platoon.]

"At present we are staying at a farm..."]

"When the 'ell is it goin' to be strawberry?"]

"Yer knows the dead 'orse 'cross the road? Well, keep straight on till yer comes to a p'rambulator 'longside a Johnson 'ole."]

"Where 'ave you been? 'Avin' your bloomin' fortune told?"]

Out since Mons: "Well, what sort of a night 'ave yer 'ad?"

Novice (but persistent optimist): "Oh, alright. 'Ad to get out and rest a bit now and again."]

"Never mind about that now, drink this."

"The Push"--in Three Chapters.

By one who's been "Pushed."]

Scene: Loos, during the September offensive.

Colonel Fitz-Shrapnel receives the following message from "G. H. Q.":--"Please let us know, as soon as possible, the number of tins of raspberry jam issued to you last Friday."]

A "Bitter" disappointment on waking.]

"'And me a rifle, someone. I'll give these ----s 'ell for this!"]

What we should like to see at our billets--and (inset) what we do see.]

How he thought he was going to use it----]

To be on patrol duty at night-time.]

"Keep yer 'ead still, or I'll 'ave yer blinkin' ear off."]

"Machine guns form a valuable support for infantry."]

Member of Navvies' Battalion (to Colonel): "I say, yer mate's dropped 'is cane."]

"In future I snipe from the ground."]

"What time shall I call you in the morning, sir?"

(Colonel Chutney, V.C., home on short leave, decides to keep in touch with dug-out life.)]

"Pop out and get it, Bert."

"Pop out yerself."]

"Personally, I think this is just what you want for laying your eggs in, but, as Bairnsfather says, 'If you knows of a better 'ole, go to it.'"]

"Give it a good 'ard 'un, Bert; you can generally 'ear 'em fizzing a bit first if they are a-goin' to explode."]

"Well, Alfred, 'ow are the cakes?"]

No. 99988 Private Blobs (on sentry-go) feels that he has at last stumbled across the true explanation of that somewhat cryptic expression, "There'll be dirty work at the cross-roads to-night!"]

RECIPE FOR FEELING LIKE THIS--Bully, biscuits, no coke, and leave just cancelled.]

"'Old these a minute while I takes that blinkin' smile off 'is dial."]

"_Every encouragement should be given for singing and whistling._"--(Extract from a "Military Manual.")

That painstaking fellow, Lieut. Orpheus, does his best, but finds it uphill work at times.]

The Nest.

"'Ere, when you're finished, I'll borrow that there top note of yours to clean the knives with."]

Private Sandy McNab cheers the assembly by pointing out (with the aid of his pocket almanac) that it is Friday the 13th and that their number is one too many.]

"Chuck us out that bag o' bombs, mate; it's under your 'ead."]

"What Time do they Feed the Sea-Lions, Alf?"]

"'Ave a squint through these 'ere, Bill; you can see one of the ----'s eatin' a sausage as clear as anythin'."]

Never has Private Smith's face felt so large and smooth as when he hands his Captain the following message at what he feels is an unsuitable moment: "The G.O.C. notices with regret the tendency of all ranks to shave the upper lip. This practice must cease forthwith."]

2nd Lieut. P. Smith, at the taking of "dead-pig" farm "Come on you chaps! We'll show these ----s Which side their ---- bread's buttered!"

Other Times, Other Manners.

The Decline of Poetry and Romance in War.]

Owing to the frequent recurrence of this dream, Herr Fritz von Lagershifter has decided to take his friends' advice: Give up sausage late at night and brood less upon the possible size of the British Army next spring.]

PROBLEM--Whether to walk along the top and risk it, or do another mile of this.]

Having omitted to remove the elastic band prior to descent, Herr Franz von Flopp feels that the trial exhibition of his new parachute is a failure.]

There is certainly a lot of truth in that Napoleonic maxim, "An army moves on its stomach."]

"'Ow long are you up for, Bill?"

"Seven years."

"Yer lucky ----, I'm duration."]

"Is this 'ere the Warwicks?"

"Nao. 'Indenburg's blinkin' Light Infantry."]

"This interesting fragment, found near Ypres (known to the ancients as Wipers), throws a light on a subject which has long puzzled science, i.e., what was the origin and meaning of those immense zigzag slots in the ground stretching from Ostend to Belfort? There is no doubt that there was some inter-tribal war on at this period."--_Extract from_ "_The Bystander_," A.D. 4916.]

Having picked up this cherished possession for a mere song at a sale near Verdun, the General has now let his country seat, "Shrapnel Park," and says he finds the new abode infinitely cheaper, and not a bit draughty, if you keep the breech closed.]

That last half-hour before "going in" to the same trenches for the 200th time.]

That first half-hour after "coming out" of those same trenches.]

TELEGRAPHIC ADDRESS "PLUMAPPLE" PLUGSTREET

Pushfulness at Plug Street.

Colonel Ian Jelloid, of the Blobshire Rifles, being an energetic and businesslike man, believes in advertising as an antidote to stagnant warfare.]

"I reckon this bloke must 'ave caught 'is face against some of them forts at Verdun!"]

"Only just"

"S.O.S."

The Hard Lines of Communication.]

"They'll be torpedoin' us if we stick 'ere much longer, Bill."]

This for half an hour

War!

--As it is for most of us.]

"What was that, Bill?"

"Trench mortar."

"Ours or theirs?"]

That indiscriminating orb, the moon, gives Private Scattergood a saintly appearance, sadly out of keeping with his thoughts. He's filling 100 sandbags at 11 p.m.]

"Is this right for 'eadquarters?"

"Yes, change at Oxford Circus."]

"Nor do I"

Thinking it over subsequently in Boulogne,--an impression of overcrowding predominates in recollections of "straighthing" that bit of the line.

"We Look Before----And After."]

"OUR BERT" (going on leave--having asked a question, and having listened to three minutes' unintelligible eloquence): "And 'ow does the chorus go?"]

"I wish you'd get something for that ---- cough of yours. That's the second time you've blown the blinkin' candle out!"]

"Come on, Bert, it's safer in the trenches."]

"LEAVE."]

"You owes me two francs and I owes you one that's got into the lining of me coat; that makes it right, don't it?"]

The General . . . Cyrus Moffat

Nancy Prendergasp, his daughter, who has gone in for nursing, unknown to her father. She is in love with ----

Featuring Miss Sybil Fane

DICK MANVERS a lance Corporal in the pay department, who, after extensive & painful researches, has invented a new bomb

"DICK"

Steven Fairbrother

Dick shows his new bomb to the General who decides to use it in the offensive

But is overheard and seen by Captain ADRIAN BLACK an unscrupulous adventurer in the pay of a powerful Government

That night he is seen by Nancy substituting PLUM & APPLE for The new explosive

END OF PART I

PART II

WILL FOLLOW IMMEDIATELY

Flanders Film Mfg Co--Milwaukee, Wisconsin. U.S.A.]

Nancy, who fears disaster, steals her Father's private Howitzer and races to the Offensive

Black throws every obstacle in her way

"Dont you know me Dick?"

The General, who has been doing a bit on his own, becomes the unwilling witness of a touching scene

The General having heard their story, orders the arrest of Captain Black

How Dick Manvers Got His Star.

Every familiar feature of the Film is happily caricatured by Captain Bairnsfather in his amusing page of pictures. The hero, the heroine (with smile), the villain, the heavy father, all of the most approved pattern--everything down to the meticulous inaccuracy characteristic of the American film in matters of detail, is shown with the good-natured sarcasm befitting a master of satire as well as of humour, while the story tells itself with breathless enthusiasm.]

Private Mulligatawny (the Australian Stock-whip wonder) frequently causes a lot of bother in the enemy's trenches.]

Vidi 1915

Vici! 1916

Augusts Three.

To each year its type.]

Said the Apple to the Plum: "Well, anyway, old man, they can never ask us what we did in the great war!"]

Anyone with a taste for Fishing, or Moth Collecting can learn to fight.

Anyone can put a hook in a worm, or a pin in a moth. WE DEVELOP THAT INSTINCT, and by our Postal Course of Instruction, will help you to earn big money by fighting

Subjects Taught:--

Bayonet work, bombing, & asphyxiation.

This sketch shows the work of a former pupil. Try this exercise yourself on a friend, and tell us the result. We will at once tell you your chances of success.

A lieutenant writes:--

Unfortunately I had not got as far as your chapter on Upper Cuts or I feel sure I should not be where I am now

yrs truly

Clearing Station GezainCourt.

Bruce Bairnsfather

The demand for fighters exceeds the supply

Write today

The Asphyxobomb School of Instruction

[Advt] Hooge.

Tips for Tommies.

Now that the war has become a world business, we must at any moment expect the appearance of this sort of thing in our papers.]

Yet somehow or other, when one starts for that 220 yards handicap across the turnip field, it feels something like this.

Bruce Bairnsfather

The Offensive.

What it looks like--and what it feels like.]

"Mind you don't fall through the seat of yer trousers, 'Arry!"]

Telepathy.

"Two minds with but a single thought."]

"Tell 'er to 'op it, Bert. I'm sittin' on a bit o' shell or somethin'."]

"Here with a loaf of bread beneath the row,
A muttered curse, but ne'er a whine, and thou--
Beside me, singing in the wilderness,
The wilderness is Paradise enow."]

"Let's 'ave this pin of yours a minute. I'll soon 'ave these winkles out of 'ere."]

"A few more, Bert, and that there château won't be worth livin' in."]

"I wish they'd 'old this war in England--don't you, Bill?" (No answer.)]

"Well, Friday--'ow's Crusoe?"]

Fricourt--July, 1916.]

THE VIGILANT ONE: "I say, old chap, what does two green lights and one red one mean?"

RECUMBENT GLADIATOR (just back from leave): "Two crêmes de menthe and a cherry brandy!"]

"You wait till I comes off dooty!"]

"Quick, afore this comes down!"]

And about like this when you get there

My Hat!

Helmets, Shrapnel, One.]

"Well, yer know, I like the photo of you in your gas mask best."]

UP LAST DRAFT: "I suppose you 'as to be careful 'ow you looks over the parapet about 'ere."

OUT SINCE MONS: "You needn't worry, me lad; the rats are going to be your only trouble."]

"As far as I can make out from this 'ere prophecy-book, Bill, the seventh year is going to be the worst, and after that every fourteenth!"]

Captain Mills-Bomme's temperature cracks the thermometer on seeing his recent daring exploits described as "On our right there is nothing to report."

(_He and his battalion had merely occupied three lines of German trenches, and held them through a storm of heavy Lyddite for forty-eight hours._)]

"Where the ---- 'ell are ye comin to!"

"---- your ---- eyes you can ---- well carry these ---- things yerself"

"yer ---- well wants elephants for this job"

Tactical Developments.

Private 9998 Blobs has always thought a machine for imitating the sound of ration parties (and thus drawing fire) an excellent idea, but simply hates his evening for working it.]

Crash

Bang

Crash

That "Out Wiring" Sensation.]

The Flanders Sea Lion (Leo Maritimus).

"An almost extinct amphibian, first discovered in Flanders during the Winter of 1914-15. Feeds almost exclusively on Plum and Apple Jam and Rum. Only savage when the latter is knocked off."]

Private Wm. Jones is not half so annoyed at accidentally falling down the mine crater as he is at hearing two friends murmuring the first verse of "Don't go down the mine, Daddy."]

Private Smith (late Shinio, the popular juggler) appreciably lowers the protective value of his section's shrapnel helmets by practising his celebrated plate and basin spinning act.]

"Keep away from the 'ive, Bert; 'e's goin' to sting yer!"]

That Provost-Marshal Feeling.

A sensation only to be had at a Base--in other words, a base sensation.]

"I wish the 'ell you'd put a cork on that blinkin' pin of yours, Bert!"]

"Darling, every potato that I have is yours" (engaged).]

"Well, you see, here's the church and there's the post-office."]

(I've forgotten the rest of the poem, but it's something about "a bomb" and "If only he'd known.")]

Old Bill has practically decided to get Private Shinio (the ex-comedy-juggler and hand-balancer) transferred to another platoon.]

What is so particularly annoying to Private Lovebird is, that he would not have had this bother with his dug-out if his leave had not been postponed.]

"I wonder if I oughtn't to tell the captain about that thing sticking up in the sea over there."]

"You chuck another sardine at me, my lad, and you'll hear from my solicitors."]

"They must 'ave 'ad some good news or somethin', Alf; you can 'ear 'em cheerin' quite plain."]

"There's evidently goin' to be an offensive around 'ere, Bert."]

"Well, what's your job, me lad?"

"Making spots for rocking-horses, sir."

"Three months."

"Exemption, sir?"

"Nao, exemption be ----d! Three months' hard!"]

"Yes--funny!"

The Stargazers.

--and their return to earth.]

"Call me a Tank again, my lad, and I'll knock yer ---- 'ead off!"]

"'Ere, Guy Fawkes--buzz off!"]

Cox's.

When one feels rather in favour of floating a War Loan of one's own.]

"These 'ere staff cars do splash a lot, don't they, Bill?" (No answer.)]

Moments when the Savoy, the Alhambra, and the Piccadilly Grill seem very far away (the offensive starts in half an hour).]

That Leave Train

Second lieutenant Enoch Arden arrives on leave

Fred!

"The train was a bit late darling"

That "Leave" Train.]

"What could Napoleon have done in the Great War?"

He could certainly not have gone in for this

It would have to be this, or nothing

Other Times----Other Manners.]

"Remember this place, Bert?"

"Yes, it's where we used to chuck the fish to you, ain't it, Bill?"]

(_In this cartoon Captain Bairnsfather refers to the report that the corpses of German soldiers fallen in battle were utilised in a Corpse-Conversion Factory for the purpose of providing fats for the Fatherland._)]

"'Ere! Where the 'ell are ye comin' with that Turkish bath o' yours?"]

What particularly annoys Lieutenant Jones, R.F.A. (who thought he could get a better view from the belfry), is that irritating prediction which keeps passing through his head, "The curfew shall not ring to-night."]

On the "Leave" Train.

You will never quite realise how closely we are bound to our French Ally until you have had the good fortune to travel on one of those "leave" trains--six a side, windows shut, fifty miles to go, and eighteen hours to do it!]

In that rare and elusive period known as "Leave" it is necessary to reconstruct the "Atmosphere" of the front as far as possible in order to produce the weekly "Fragment."]

At midnight, an indignant, husky voice is heard to say: "B---- these blinkin' sandbags."]

Should Mr. Robey be at any time called upon to go to the Front, he must be careful how he does this: "I'm surprised at you, Ludendorff!"]

"It's a pity Alf ain't 'ere, Bert; 'e can play the piana wonderful."]

"I thought you said your uncle was a sending you an umbrella."]

Dep.: Paddington 2.15. Arr. Home 4.]

You dirty dog

To those who may be contemplating picking up a Government car cheaply after the war. Insist on seeing photograph. Don't be satisfied by just reading the advertisements.]

* * * * *

Transcriber's notes:

With the three noted exceptions, punctuation anomalies were retained to match the original drawings. The exceptions are in the books printed explanations, not in any cartoon.

Page 5, period added to illustration caption ("Jack Johnson" shell.)

Page 112, single opening quote changed to double. ("You wait till I)

Page 125, period added to title of picture to match rest of format (That Provost-Marshal Feeling.)

Pages 93 and 98 were halves of the same comic. They were reattached to aid readability. The original text can be found in the html version.