“It will simply kill Cotter,” I said, “and we can’t have that. He may
not be of any very great military value, but he’s a nice old boy, and we
don’t want to lose him.”
Tompkins agreed with me thoroughly. He said he’d been thinking the
matter over since Mrs. Cotter called on him in the afternoon, and had
hit upon a plan which would meet the case.
“If only the C.O. will fall in with it,” he added.
Haines is in some ways a difficult man. He likes to manage things his
own way, and resents any suggestions made to him, particularly by men in
the ranks. However, Cotter’s life was at stake, so I undertook to tackle
Haines, even at the risk of being snubbed. Tompkins explained his plan
to me. I rang up Haines, and laid it before him. I put the matter very
strongly to him. I even said that the War Office would probably deprive
him of his command if it was discovered that he had been wasting the
lives of his men unnecessarily.
“The country needs us all,” I said, “even Cotter. After all, Cotter is a
non-commissioned officer and a most valuable man. Besides, it’ll do the
Ambulance Brigade a lot of good.”
It was this last consideration which weighed most with Haines. He had
felt for some time that our ambulance ladies were coming to have too
good an opinion of themselves. I had the satisfaction of going back to
the drawing-room and telling Janet that the stretcher bearers were to
parade at eleven o’clock, and march in the rear of the column--Numbers 3
and 4 Platoons--which went to relieve trenches.
“Rot,” said Janet “We can’t possibly go out on a night like this.”
“C.O.’s orders,” I said.
“The stretchers will be utterly ruined,” she said, “not to mention our
hats.”
“C.O.’s orders,” I said severely.
“If we must go,” said Janet, “we’ll take the ambulance waggon.
“No, you won’t,” I said. “You’ll take your stretchers and carry them.
Yours not to reason why, Janet. And in any case you can’t take the
ambulance waggon, because we’re marching along the beach, and you know
perfectly well that the strand is simply scored with trenches. We can’t
have the ambulance waggon smashed up. It’s the only one we have. If a
few girls break their legs it doesn’t much matter. There are too many
girls about the place.”
Platoons Numbers 1 and 2 marched off at 10.30 p.m. in a blinding
downpour of rain. We watched them go from the porch of the golf
pavilion, and promised to relieve them as quickly as we could. We
paraded, according to orders, at 11 sharp, and I was glad to see that
Janet and the other girls were wet and draggled long before we started.
Haines made us a short speech. He had to shout at the top of his voice
because the storm was making a dreadful noise. But we heard what he
said. The business of relieving trenches, he told us, would be carried
out under strictly war conditions, precisely as if enemy submarines
were shelling us from the sea. There would necessarily, supposing the
submarines to be actually there, be casualties in our force. Haines told
off four men to act as casualties. The first on the list--this was the
way Tompkins’ plan worked out--was Corporal Cotter.
“Corporal Cotter,” said Haines, “will drop out of the ranks as the
column passes the third bathing-box, numbering from the south end of the
beach, Mrs. Tompkins’ bathing-box, which is painted bright green.”
Haines was, very properly, most particular about defining the
bathing-box exactly.
“Corporal Cotter and the other casualties,” said Haines, “will take
waterproof ground-sheets with them--two waterproof ground-sheets
each--and keep as dry as possible. The stretcher bearers will follow
the column at a distance of two hundred paces to pick up the casualties,
affording first-aid on the spot, and, on reaching the field hospital,
will apply restoratives under the directions of the Company’s Medical
Officer. For the purposes of these manouvres. Corporal Cotter’s house
will be regarded as the Field Hospital.”
The other three casualties, all elderly and rather delicate men, were
ordered to drop out of the ranks at places further along the beach.
If it was Janet’s luck to reach the furthest casualty she would walk,
carrying a stretcher, about a mile and a half altogether. When she got
home she would be less inclined to sneer at people who catch cold in the
service of their country.
The night was extremely dark. I do not think I have ever experienced a
darker night. We could hear the sea roaring on our left, and could see,
when we looked back, a dim glow here and there from the windows of our
houses; but it was quite impossible to see anything on the beach.
I missed Cotter when we had been stumbling along for about a quarter of
an hour, and felt glad that he had done his share. In a minute or so, I
hoped, he would be safe on a stretcher, and half an hour later would
be drinking whisky and water, hot. That, so Tompkins told me, was the
restorative which was to be administered to all the casualties.
We got through the business of relieving the trenches in the end, though
we had a tough struggle. The great difficulty was to find them. If
Platoons Numbers 1 and 2 could have shouted to us or flashed their
electric torches we should have got them much sooner than we did. But
noise and light were strictly forbidden. They would, so Haines said,
attract the enemy’s fire, and result in our being wiped out by shrapnel.
I got separated at one time from the rest of my platoon, and walked into
the sea twice. Afterwards I fell over the Company Sergeant-Major, who
was sitting in a pool beside a rock. He said he had sprained his ankle.
But that turned out not to be true. He had only twisted it a little, and
was able to limp home. In civil life our Company Sergeant-Major is one
of the directors of the Corporate Banking Company Ltd., and drives into
town in his own motor.
Then I came on Haines, wandering by himself on a sandhill. He was
swearing viciously. It was, indeed, the sound of his oaths which led
me to him. They were not loud, but they were uttered with an intensity
which gave them the power of piercing through the tumult of the storm.
He and I and the Company Sergeant-Major stuck together, and at
1 a.m.--we took the time from Haines’ luminous-faced wrist watch--we
suddenly tumbled into the trench.
We found the whole four platoons waiting for us; but they would not
have waited much longer. The senior Second Lieutenant--a very well-known
solicitor--had taken command of the company, assuming, as he said, that
Haines had become a casualty accidentally. His idea was to march the
men home, and then send the Ambulance Brigade to search for Haines, the
Company Sergeant-Major, and me.
“That’s the sort of thing,” he said, “an ambulance is for. The men in
the fighting line can’t be expected to do it.”
We marched home in pretty good order, considering that we were all very
wet, greatly exhausted, and many of us bruised in various parts of
our bodies. Our spirit was quite unbroken, and Haines, writing up the
official diary afterwards, said that our moral was excellent. He did us
no more than bare justice. There was not a man among us--except perhaps
the Company Sergeant-Major, whose ankle was swelling up--who would not
have welcomed a German attack.
We got back to the golf pavilion, and found the whole place in an
uproar. Women, all of them very wet, were rushing about. Tompkins
was giving confused and contradictory orders to the twelve stretcher
bearers, who looked cowed and miserable. Mrs. Cotter was sitting on the
floor in a corner of the room crying bitterly. We got the explanation
out of Tompkins at last.
Three of the casualties had, it appeared, been successfully picked
up and carried home. The stretcher bearers had somehow missed Cotter.
Search parties had been sent out. Tompkins himself had felt his way round
each of the fifteen bathing-boxes. The nursing section of the Ambulance
Brigade had waved electric torches and stable lanterns up and down the
beach from the edge of the sea to the sandhills. The stretcher bearers,
scourged by the remarks Tompkins made about their incompetence, had gone
shouting through the storm until they were hoarse and utterly exhausted.
Nothing had been seen or heard of Cotter.
Haines took charge of the situation at once. He formed up the four
platoons, and marched us all back to the beach. There we assumed open
order, and skirmished in a northerly direction. We were told to keep
in touch with each other, and to leave no square yard of the sand
unexamined. We were to go on skirmishing until we found Cotter, dead or
alive. My own idea was that if we found anything it would be his corpse.
I did my best to obey orders, but I almost immediately lost touch with
everybody else. The other men, so I learnt afterwards, had the same
experience. However, I had the good luck to find Cotter. He came towards
me, indeed he ran into me before I saw him. He was in charge of a
policeman, who held him firmly but kindly by the arm. The moment Cotter
saw me he burst out:
“Tell this infernal fool that I’m not drunk,” he said.
“If you’re acquainted with the gentleman,” said the policeman, “it would
be well for you to take him home to his bed. He’s not in a fit state to
be out by himself.”
I drove off the policeman with some difficulty, making myself personally
responsible for Cotter’s safety. Then I questioned the old gentleman.
“What have you been doing?” I said.
“Waiting for the ambulance. I’d be waiting still if that ass of a
policeman hadn’t insisted that I was drunk and dragged me away.”
“Good Lord!” I said, “and they’ve been looking for you for hours.”
“I know that,” said Cotter. “I saw their lights all over the place and
heard them shouting.”
“Then why on earth didn’t you shout back and let them know where you
were?”
“Casualties don’t shout,” said Cotter. “They can’t. They’re too weak. I
groaned occasionally; but I suppose they didn’t hear me.”
“And how long did you mean to lie out in this storm?” I said.
“Till the stretcher bearers found me,” said Cotter. “Those were the
C.O.’s orders.”
I do not know whether any medals will be given to volunteers after the
war. Cotter certainly deserves one. I have never heard a finer story
of devotion to duty than his. When I had got rid of the policeman he
actually wanted to go back and lie down again.