Chapter II: Things by the Way

_Hark! I hear the tramp of thousands,
And of armèd men the hum!
Lo! a nation’s hosts have gathered
Round the quick alarming drum,
Saying, “Come,
Freemen, come!
Ere your heritage be wasted,” said the quick alarming drum._

BRET HARTE.

The French people were like mothers to us, giving us food, money, and wine. It is a pity to see them leaving their homes and having nowhere to go: _Pte. W. Irwan, 1st East Lancashires_.

Safe!

The refugees used to follow our troops, as they knew they would be safe. The French people were very kind to us. They would have given us their shirt if they thought we wanted it. They gave us plenty of bread and cheese and wine and water: _Pte. W. Pallett, 2nd Royal Sussex Regiment_.

Perfectly Happy

I am in a little French village, halted for the day, and with a few chums have found a house that has been left in a hurry all complete with cooking-pots. I am preparing the supper, which smells all right, but you should see the ingredients. I am perfectly happy, as this seems the proper country for me, and I never felt better in my life. I am picking up French all right, but I have not started eating frogs yet: _Pte. T. Green, 5th Lancers_.

“Du Pain!”

My chum and I came into a village one day, and we wanted to get some bread and tobacco. We met a peasant woman in the village, and I said, “Du pain.” She took me by the arm and led me into a house. She opened a door and shoved me into a dark room. I couldn’t see where I was, and thought it might be a dodge, so I waved for my chum, and he came in as well. Then we noticed some food and a bottle of wine on the table: _Pte. Hannah, Scottish Borderers_.

A Song of a Shirt

I shall be a handy man soon. Yesterday I washed my only shirt. We were allowed only one with us and one at the base. I have washed it twice a month and used all my soap. Washing is a luxury, but I have managed a couple of good swims. The worst part of yesterday’s washing was that just as I had finished wringing it out orders came to move off, and I have been all night shirtless, and it looks as though I shall be a day or two without, because I have no opportunity of hanging it out to dry: _A Private, of Bridlington_.

Like Rob Roy

We are quartered in large caves alongside a château three hundred years old. We occupy three caves, and a large fire is lighted in the middle of each to purify the air and keep us warm at night. The nights are bitterly cold and very damp. Incidentally it is fine to-day, but we have had days of pouring rain--not that it affected our spirits in the least. You should see us all clustered round our fires in the evening, the flames lighting up at times the oval ceiling of the caverns and our faces; we must look like bandits or Rob Roy’s boys: _A Lance-Corporal of the London Scottish_.

On and Off

We took turns on outpost duty--twenty-four hours on and twenty-four off. We slept in the open with equipment and rifle, and had to stand to arms an hour before dawn, about two o’clock. The reconnoitring patrols got a feed at nearly every farm or house they passed. We didn’t see a sign of Germans all the time, although the Uhlans were only a few miles away. We had a decent time, and the people are the best I have met. They think no one is as good as an Englishman, especially an English soldier: _A Private of the Royal Marine Light Infantry_.

A Baby Bunting

I heard a cry from an empty house, and when I went in I found a baby, about eleven months old, lying crying in its nightgown. I brought the youngster out. It was raining in torrents at the time, and I carried it about five and a half miles. It was crying all the way, and I tried to conceal it from our sergeant, but eventually he said I should be obliged to put it down as we were going into action, so I laid it in a hedge and covered it with some straw, hoping that someone would soon find it and take care of it. It made me think of my own children: _Bombdr. Stoddard, Royal Artillery_.

Early Piety

What struck me most was the number of Boy Scouts smoking clay pipes! They were only about six or seven years old, and they came up to us and asked us if we’d like a chew of tobacco. They seemed to enjoy it too. We were absolutely covered with flowers. All the horses were decorated up. There were some lovely crops of wheat destroyed. You could tell all the men were at the war. The women were in the fields bringing in the harvest. Children seemed pleased to see us, and they would walk along and hold our hands: _Sapper Magridge_.

Quiet and Restful

We are having a very quiet, restful time in an old semi-fortified farmhouse. The enemy has a very strong position directly ahead, and until they are turned out we cannot move. Four motor-cyclists are quartered in an old hen-house, the floor of which is covered with straw; the perches come in very useful as clothes-racks. We are just going to have dinner, consisting of mutton chops (killed last night), potatoes, fried cheese, and bread and jam. We can occasionally get eggs, but otherwise we live on bread and jam and stew made of tinned meat and vegetables: _Dispatch-Rider Schofield, 5th Cavalry Brigade_.

On the Quiet!

I can tell you it is a pucker rough life, for you have to get up as soon as it begins to get light, and it is about one o’clock before we can get down to it. You had better tell dad to volunteer for the war, for it’s pucker exciting, and over here there is plenty of wine, for every village we go through the people give us bottles of wine to drink, and our regiment has been very jammy, for all the Germans do when they see you is to shell you or run away, and when the shells begin to hum it is time to gallop. Well, mum, I cannot tell you where I am, as we are on the move every day, and if we did know, it must all be kept secret, for we came out here on the quiet: _Pte. Clapinson, 3rd Hussars_.

Sweetness--and Rain!

This is a sweet place when it rains; you can’t get less than two days’ rain at a time. I am now doing mounted orderly duty to and from headquarters, four miles away. It’s a rotten ride back at night, through pitch-black country, on your own. I can’t say I dislike this country at all. The people treated us well on our way here. They brought out baskets of fruit, bottles of wine, cakes, etc., to give us, all shouting out, “Vive l’Angleterre!” and all the little children walking along the street get hold of your hands and stroke them, as if you were a prize dog or something: _Lance-Corpl. H. E. Forward, Army Service Corps_.

Comfortable!

We have had a good deal of marching--twenty to twenty-five miles per day--on very little sleep; in bed by midnight and up by a quarter to two. Last Saturday I think was the nearest to purgatory that I have ever been. We marched about fifteen miles, and when we got to ---- we were kept standing for four hours in a perfect deluge; some of us lay down in the road in about a foot of mud. When the order came to march on again we marched about another mile into a ploughed field and were told to make ourselves “comfortable.” It was better in the road: _Pte. R. Williams, Royal Army Medical Corps_.

Sucking Eggs!

The French and Belgians have been extremely hospitable, and wherever we go we have been received most generously--eggs, milk, wine, bread and butter, jam, handkerchiefs, apples, pears, plums, coffee, etc., are among the many gifts showered upon us as we ride through the various towns. Picture us riding along, the great unwashed, and often unshaven, being cheered by crowds of townspeople. I can best compare it to the crowds of long ago when a circus procession came through Wakefield. I have got quite expert at cracking eggs on the front of my saddle and sucking them: _Sergt. Seed, 3rd King’s Hussars_.

To his Mother

Well, Ma, I am, above all places, at Paris, and having a real good time, and the reason I am here is that the general had an accident four or five days ago through his horse stumbling and throwing him, and he was sent to a hospital, and naturally I had to follow on with the car to be ready to take him back to the front. Ye gods! it is good to be amongst civilized people again, and be able to have a decent bath, for I might tell you I was getting in a filthy state, having to go without a wash or a shave for sometimes three days on end: you can bet that I made up for it to-day. This morning I had an ordinary hot bath, and this afternoon, to make doubly sure that all the uninvited visitors were dead, I went to the English hospital and had a sulphur bath; after that a visit to the barber, and I felt a new man: _A Private, of Bristol_.

A Far Journey

We entrained (our destination unknown) in cattle trucks, forty men in each truck, penned in like sheep, and the only seats were the bottom of the truck. It was awful, to say the least of it, but it turned out rather a pleasant journey, as at every station we came to there were people, both gentle and simple, waiting to give us a cheer, also eatables, such as sandwiches and fruit of every description. It was remarkable to see small banners of the Union Jack in almost every hand, and shouting “Vive English,” while the troops replied with “Let the sons of France march to glory,” which they seemed to know the meaning of, as they joined in their own language. It was amusing to see rather handsome girls giving kisses to us in exchange for a badge, buttons, etc. They could not converse with us, but they conveyed their meanings by signs, and a common one was curling their moustache and drawing their hand across their throats, which meant we were to kill the Kaiser, to which we answered by showing our jack-knives. It was the same right through the five days’ journey; big and small stations alike they fed us, and it was well they did, for we received no rations; we were treated like gentlemen. I got a rosette of the French colours from a lady, which I will treasure. The kindness of these people I will never forget; they looked rather astonished at our accommodation and surprised at our good spirits under the circumstances: _Pte. P. J. Grace, 1st Northumberland Fusiliers_.

A River of Joy

The trip we have just made was tremendously exciting. Although it was night-time when we went up the river, this did not detract in the least from the reception our men got. All the villagers turned out, fired off crackers, and hung Chinese lanterns on the trees on the sides of the hills. This had a very charming effect. Towards midnight, however, a thick fog set in, and we were obliged to anchor till morning. The fog cleared away about 6 A.M., and we found ourselves lying opposite a small village which seemed to be deep in slumber. Not for long, though. Our men began to sing “It’s a long, long way to Tipperary,” “Rule, Britannia,” and “The girl I left behind me.” Window blinds went up, windows were thrown open, and people came out on to the verandahs in their “nighties” waving British flags, laughing and cheering and singing. By Jove, it sounded fine. Just imagine, if you can, high wooded slopes on each side, and this little village nestling amongst the trees; the morning mist quickly rising to reveal a bright sunny day, and you have it. One party of girls came down to the river-bank and started singing in return in French, much to everyone’s amusement, as it was easy to see they had just tumbled out of bed. The quayside was very busy that day, as a large number of ships were all discharging horses, men, guns, and all the munitions of war. The whole of the population turned out, and as our men rode away in a never-ending line one’s heart thrilled with pride, so businesslike and smart did they look in their khaki, their bronzed faces giving them the appearance of first-rate old campaigners, and inspiring everyone who saw them with the greatest confidence. I have seen many soldiers of many nationalities, but never soldiers who were a patch on those we are sending across to fight our battles. Good fortune be with them, and God bless them, is all I can say: _An Anonymous Sergeant_.