Sir,--I visited the Military Exhibition the other day according to
your instructions, my bosom glowing with patriotic ardour. If anything
besides your instructions and the general appropriateness of the
occasion had been necessary to make my bosom glow thus, it would have
been found in the fact that I formerly served my country in a Yeomanry
Regiment. I shall never forget the glorious occasions on which I wore
a cavalry uniform, and induced some of my best friends to believe
I had gone to the dogs and enlisted. However, to relate my Yeomanry
adventures, which included a charge by six of us upon a whole army,
would be to stray from my point, which is to describe what I saw at
the Military Exhibition. I was lame (oh, dear no, not the gout, a mere
strain) and took a friend, an amiable young man, with me to lean upon.
[Illustration]
"There's one place I really _do_ know," he had said to me, "and that's
this bally place."
I therefore felt I was safe with him. We arrived. We entered. "Take
me," I said, "to the battle-pictures, so that I may study my country's
glories."
"Right!" he answered, and with a promptitude that does him immense
credit, he brought me out into a huge arena in the open air with seats
all round it, a grand stand, and crowds of spectators. The performance
in the arena so deeply interested me that I forgot all about the
pictures. I saw at once what it was. Detachments of our citizen
soldiers were going through ambulance drill. The sight was one which
appealed to our common humanity. My daring, dangerous Yeomanry days
rose up again before me, and I felt that if ever I had had to bleed
for my QUEEN I should not have bled untended. Even my companion,
a scoffer, who had never risen above a full privacy in the Eton
Volunteers, was strangely moved. There were, I think, ten detachments,
each provided with a stretcher and a bag containing simple surgical
appliances. All that was wanted to complete the realism of the picture
was the boom of the cannon, the bursting of shells, and the rattle of
musketry. In imagination I supplied them, as I propose to do, for your
benefit, Sir, in the following short account.
It was a sultry afternoon; the battle had been raging for hours; the
casualties had been terrible. "Dress up, there, dress up!" said the
Sergeant in command, addressing detachment No. 2, "and you, JENKINS,
tilt your forage-cap a leetle more over your right ear; BROWN, don't
blow your nose, the General's looking; God bless my soul, THOMPSON,
you've buckled that strap wrong, undo it and re-buckle it at once."
With such words as these he cheered his men, while to right and left
the death-dealing missiles sped, on their course. "Stand at ease;
'shon! Stand at ease! 'shon!" he next shouted. A Corporal at this
point was cut in two by a ball from, a forty-pounder, but nobody
paid any heed to him. Stiff, solid, and in perfect line, stood the
detachments waiting for the word to succour the afflicted. At last it
came. In the midst of breathless excitement the ten bent low, placed
their folded stretchers on the ground, unbuckled and unfolded them,
and then with a simultaneous spring rose up again and resumed their
impassive attitude. "Very good," said the Sergeant, "very good.
THOMPSON you were just a shade too quick; you must be more careful.
Stand at ease!" and at ease they all stood.
But where were the wounded? Aha! here they come, noble, fearless
heroes, all in line, marching with a springy step to their doom.
One by one they took their places, in line at intervals of about ten
yards, and lay down each on his appointed spot to die, or be wounded,
and to be bandaged and carried off. But now a terrible question arose.
_Would there be enough to go round?_ I had only counted nine of them,
which was one short of the necessary complement, but at this supreme
moment another grievously wounded warrior ran lightly up and lay down
opposite the tenth detachment. We breathed again.
And now began some charming manoeuvres. Each detachment walked round
its stretcher twice, then stood at ease again, then at attention, then
dressed up and arranged itself, and brushed, itself down. All this
while their wounded comrades lay writhing, and appealing for help
in vain. It was with difficulty that, lame as I was, I could be
restrained from dashing to their aid. But at last everything was in
order. Stretchers were solemnly lifted. The detachments marched slowly
forward, and deposited their stretchers each beside a wounded man.
Then began a scene of busy bandaging. But not until the whole ten had
been bound up, legs, arms, heads, feet, fingers &c, was it permissible
to lift one of them from the cold cold ground which he had bedewed
with his blood.
"Now then," said the Sergeant, "carefully and all together. Lift!"
and all together they were lifted and placed in their stretchers. More
play with straps and buckles, more rising and stooping, and then the
pale and gasping burdens were at last raised and carried in a mournful
procession round the ground. But when they arrived at the place
where the ambulance was supposed to be, they had all been dead,
three-quarters of an hour. "Dear me," said the Sergeant, "how vexing.
ROBINSON, your chin-strap's gone wrong. Now, all together. Drop 'em!"
And so the day ended, and the pitiless sun sated with, &c., &c., &c.
I afterwards visited the Field Hospital to see a number of wax figures
in uniform, cheerfully arranged as wounded men in all the stages
of pain and misery. How encouraging for TOMMY ATKINS, I thought
to myself; but at this moment my supporter informed me that he had
remembered where to find the battle-pictures, and thither therefore
we proceeded, thankful in the knowledge that if either of us ever
happened to be struck down in battle he would be well looked after by
an admirably drilled body of men.
I am, Sir,
Yours as usual,
LE PETIT SHOWS.
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