Graphic Descriptions
Many things surprised our soldiers on coming to France, and they
described them with much humour. Speaking of the French soldiers a
sergeant remarked: "Aren't their trousers baggy? They can march all the
same, though. D'you know what they're paid? They get a halfpenny a day,
and they're paid every five days in a crossed cheque. Well, they seem
glad to see us, don't they, sir? As soon as ever I pull up they gather
round and want to shake my hand. It's as bad as bein' a parliamentary
candidate."
This is what a soldier said of the American Ambulance at Neuilly, where
he spent four weeks when wounded: "My word, what an 'ospital. Had
American millionaires to wait on us. They did it right, too. They're
a decent lot, them millionaires. Waited on us 'and an' foot. An' the
grub! All French, an' cooked by a real French chef."
Another soldier described French tobacco as "something you have to
smoke all day to get a smoke."
After his first fight with the Germans a soldier who had been through
the last Boer war, said; "This is fighting if you like. South Africa
was a tea-party to it. The shells go by with a horrible sort of hiss,
and then burst with a roar that puts thunder in the shade, and if you
are near you probably lose your head and arms, and various portions of
your anatomy."
Writing of a wound, a sporting soldier said: "The next day, when
partridge shooting was beginning at home, sure enough I was 'winged'
among the turnips."
Another man said that when the shrapnel came it seemed as big as a
motor-'bus and to hit him all over. "The shells were like small beer
barrels in the air."
An Irish soldier wrote: "We charged the Kaiser's crush with a yell that
would have put the fear of death into the heart of the most stoical,
and with our bayonets we dug them out of their trenches, same as you'd
dig bully beef out of a can."
An Irish soldier remarked to an interviewer when asked what the war was
like: "There ain't anything to talk about. It's fight, an' march, an'
fight again, with maybe a crack on the 'ead once in a while. It is the
biggest rifle meeting I ever saw--Bisley isn't in it."
The rain that fell in September in the trenches, he said, was so heavy
that it was like as if the earth had been turned upside down and water
had been poured in at the other side.
Another remark was that he had slept so much in odd places that now he
thought he could sleep on a clothes-line.
Another soldier who slept in odd places was Lance-Corporal Waller, of
the 4th Royal Fusiliers: "I have slept with strange company since I
came out. One night with sheep, another in a schoolroom, once on top
of a pigsty, once in a manger, in several ditches, in a first-class
drawing-room, in 4 inches of snow, behind the counter of a café, and in
a feather bed."
A gunner thus described the work of his battery: "We just rained shells
on the Germans until we were deaf and choking. I don't think a gun on
the position could have sold for old iron after we had finished, and
the German gunners would be just odd pieces of clothing and bits of
accoutrement."
One of the Black Watch wrote: "We have had a fiendish week of fighting
around A----. We had to force our way step by step. Every inch we
marched was coloured red with the blood of our men and the Germans. It
was like passing through a graveyard where an earthquake had turned up
all the corpses and left them lying above ground. As we picked our way
through the long lane of dead, that never seemed to have any turning,
we noticed among them now and then wounded men, who begged hard for
water or some assistance in doing up their bandages. It was pitiful,
and we were so helpless."
Another soldier wrote: "You can always tell the Germans who have never
been in action against us before. The ones who know what to expect come
up very gingerly, like men sneaking into the vestry of a church to rob
the collection boxes. The new hands come across in a fine, jaunty way
until they get a volley into them, and then they stare up at the sky to
see who's throwing things at them. That's the ones who are able to look
up, for some of them are done for, and have looked at the sky for the
last time. We are showing the Germans that there are a few goods marked
'Made in England.' Our officers are the real goods, the very best. If
the Germans had been worth their house-room they would have put an end
to the whole of us at the battle of Mons. They came on like a swarm of
bees, and we did enjoy it. It was like firing at a mountain; you could
not miss it. Sorry I can't stop to write more. We are going to business
at 7 p.m. ('Where's my gun?') What would you like out of the crown
jewels in Berlin? That's where we are bound for."
Some soldiers who had lost their regiments gave this description of
hiding from the Germans: "When night came we endeavoured to escape
from our perilous position, and just outside the door we found a
German sentry. We passed quite close to him, but didn't stop to say
'Good-night.' How we did it I can't for the life of me tell, but we
did it, and then made off as we thought towards the British lines,
but to our disgust found we were going right into the German lines.
We decided, therefore, to anchor there for the night and get away in
the morning. We found this was the German Headquarters Staff, so that
we can say we dined with the German generals that night, the only
difference being that they were inside and we were outside; they were
having wines, etc., and we had swedes and no etc."
A soldier said of a battle that it was "like a display of fireworks at
the Crystal Palace with the wounded and dead left out. Last week we got
shrapnel for breakfast, dinner, and tea, but the enemy might have saved
himself the trouble of dishing out those doses, as they were absolutely
ineffective."
One of our men gave a dying German soldier's opinion of the British
Army: "When I was hit I lay for hours on the ground, and got chummy
with a German chap, who had got a nasty sabre cut in the head as well
as a bayonet stab in the kidneys, and was 'booked through.' He knew
his number was up, but he was as cheery as though he were at a wedding
instead of a funeral. He talked about the fighting, and dealt out
praise and blame to French, German, and British alike. He thought a lot
of our Army, and spoke highly of its fighting capacity. He said it was
wonderful the way we faced odds and difficulties that would have beaten
any other army. Almost the last words he said were: 'You'll win this
time, and you deserve to win your victory, but we'll never forget or
forgive, and some day a new Germany will avenge us.'"
The following descriptions are from the letters of soldiers:
"Fighting's kindergarten work compared with lying in your damp clothes
in the washed out trenches night and day with, maybe, not a chance of
getting any more warmth than you can get from a wax match. We were
lying in the trenches in the early morning, with chattering teeth,
between which we were muttering prayers for only a spoonful of good
brandy or rum to put some heat into us, when there arose a frightful
din all round, and the pickets were driven in as though a team of mad
bulls was chasing them through the meadows at home. 'We're in for it,'
says I to Tommy Gledhill, my chum. 'Anything's better than lying
here,' said he. 'Anyhow, it'll warm us up just as well as brandy, and
it'll help a few more Germans to a place where they'll not be bothered
with chills.'"
"We have had a lot of fighting since the 5th. On Sunday we got it very
hot indeed. Nothing less than hell with the lid off will describe it
accurately, but please excuse my strong words. We had a fine time, I
can tell you--a proper Guy Fawkes' turnout."
Three men of the 5th Lancers found a house that had been left in a
hurry all complete with cooking pots. "I am preparing the supper,
which smells all right. 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."
One of the Somerset Light Infantry wrote: "I made a pudding for the
boys the other day. I swear it was bullet-proof, but, all the same, it
went down with a little jam."
The following is from a letter written by one of the Connaught Rangers
and printed in _The Evening News_: "Sure, and it was the grand time
we had entirely, and I wouldn't have missed it for lashings of money.
It was near to Cambrai when we had our best time. The Germans kept
pressing our rearguard all the time, and at last we could stand it no
longer, so the word was passed round that we were to give them hell
and all. They kept pressing on and on in spite of our murderous fire
until there was at least five to one, and we were like to be cut off.
With that up got the colonel. 'Rangers of Connaught,' says he, 'the
eyes of all Ireland are on you this day, and I know you never could
disgrace the old country by letting Germans beat you while you have
arms in your hands and hearts in your breasts. On, then, and at them,
and if you don't give them the soundest thrashing they ever got in
their lives you needn't look me in the face again in this world or
the next.' And we went for them with just what you would know of a
prayer to the Blessed Mother of our Lord to be merciful to the loved
ones at home if we should fall in the fight. We charged through and
through them until they broke and ran like frightened hares in terror
of the hounds. They screamed just like babies. After that taste of the
fighting quality of the Rangers they never troubled us any more that
day, but next day more of them came up, and managed to cut off half
a company of our boys holding a post on our left. The German officer
rushed off to Tim Flanagan, the biggest caution in the whole regiment,
and called on him to surrender the file of men under his orders. 'Is it
me your honour's after talking to in that way?' says Tim, in that bold
way of his. 'Sure, now, it's yourself that ought to be surrendering,
and if you're not off this very minute, you ill-mannered German
omadhaun, it's me will be after giving you as much cold steel as'll do
you between this and the Kingdom of Heaven.' Then the German officer
gave the word to his men, and what happened after that I can't tell to
you, for it was just then I got a bullet between my ribs; but I can
tell you that neither Tim nor any of his men surrendered, nor did the
Germans get that position until it pleased the colonel to order the
retirement."
The Connaught Rangers, however, were not the only soldiers who revelled
in a fray. Here is what even a sensible English soldier wrote in
reference to a battle: "At 12.30 a shell hit my rifle and smashed it to
matchwood. I next got my cap knocked off my head, and I went to pick
it up. Then I got a bullet in the muscle of my right arm, which put me
down for a couple of hours. But, never mind, my dear, I had a good run
for my money."
Here is a pen picture of part of a battle: "Fellows were being knocked
out all round, and wounded were crying for help. Frequently one would
say to his neighbour, 'Bill, how's ta gettin' on?' but Bill, who had
been as cheery as a cricket just before, was found to be picked off.
Our ranks were so thinned that by the time we got within charging
distance of the enemy's trenches we had not sufficient men left for
a charge. A shell burst close to me, and I thought I had lost both
my legs. I crawled to a haystack, where there were a number of other
wounded fellows, and one who was not. The latter was assisting the
wounded. Presently some Germans came up, and ordered the unwounded man
to run. He had not gone 10 yards when they shot him dead. I thought my
time had come, but the Germans made off. An R.A.M.C. man had his head
blown off while putting wounded men into an ambulance. I was close to
Colonel Knight when he was killed. His last words were, 'Never mind
me, men; go on and capture the guns.' The German shrapnel firing was
absolutely deadly."
The effect of searchlights is thus described: "In the dark the Germans
turned on searchlights. We could see them hunting about for someone to
pot at. Uncanny that was. To see the blooming big lane of light working
round and round. It was like a monstrous eye, looking for its prey.
Then we heard the shells whistle. And when the pale, weird light came
round to us and lit us up so that we could see each other's faces,
Lord, it made my blood run cold--just as I used to feel when I was a
nipper and woke up and saw a light and thought it was a ghost, and lay
there wondering what would happen next."