BATTLE OF YPRES
It may perhaps seem strange that we should exercise so much care
within the precincts of our own lines, but there were two reasons for
it: The first one was that the ramifications of the German spy system
extended to our own ranks and there was always a possibility that a
man in khaki, whom you would take for a fellow soldier and pass with
a nod, would put a bullet through your head the moment your back was
turned. That element of German espionage, strange and incredible as
it may sound, is something with which the military authorities have
constantly to contend.
The other reason for exercising extreme care is that many poor
people, half demented by the horrors they have witnessed and the
indignities and wrongs they have been subjected to, secrete
themselves in all kinds of places, and they do not wait to see who
approaches, but will shoot or stab at sight. I saw a man from the
Worcesters shot dead by a poor demented woman in this condition in
Ypres.
Away to our left was the village of L---- absolutely deserted. Being
curious, we grabbed our rifles and searched the village. It was a
big place, but was shelled out of all shape. We ran upon occasional
decomposing bodies of Germans, English, women, dogs and fowl. It
gave one the most eerie feeling to see this place. In fancy we could
feel the silence that brooded over it. Utter desolation everywhere.
The sound of a bit of falling plaster, or the slightest rustle, would
send us flying to the nearest cover to wait with rifles ready, like
Mr. Micawber, "For something to turn up."
Here Morgan was surprised into letting his affection for me show
through. Every fancied danger, and he would instinctively place
himself in front of me, and when we flew for cover he unconsciously
took up the most exposed position. My chum's solicitude for my
well-being has always seemed, to me at least, unexplainable, yet such
was the fact.
We returned from the village, making a detour of a few hundred yards
in front of the road. The land around was shelled everywhere, each
few yards showing a hole, some big enough to engulf a house. It
spoke volumes for the fighting that had taken place in this now
historic spot. It was here that the Guards, Lincolns and other
famous regiments smashed up the Prussian Guards in the first battle
of Ypres. In places there were heads, hands and feet sticking out of
the ground. In one old trench laid fully sixty dead Boches half
exhumed. Broken rifles, ammunition, equipment, broken machine guns
of every kind lay about. It was here that the Canadians were to make
their grand debut into the history of the war.
The day was beautiful, the larks singing away as if nothing was wrong
with the world, and Morgan, feeling the influence of the day upon
him, apparently forgot the war and raised his voice in song--a new
phase of his character--and hymns and songs by the dozen poured from
his throat.
That night rumors began to circulate that Fritz intended mischief,
and the roaring of a trench mortar and burst of rapid fire was the
signal for pandemonium to begin. From end to end of the line it was
taken up, and we began to think something was really happening. A
sergeant came along shouting my name. Finding me he rushed me to the
officers; a staff officer was talking and they were deeply absorbed.
I immediately learned that the rumors were not unfounded.
I was dispatched to headquarters with a written message. Captain
Hopkins gave me my instructions. "I have chosen you because you keep
the pace up longer than the rest." This compliment deeply pleased
me. "Go to headquarters as quickly as your legs will carry you,
report immediately you get there and place yourself under the orders
of Sergeant C----."
The words were barely out of his mouth when I was out of the cellar,
and down that gloomy road I scudded, a queer mixture of terror and
elation--terror because of what might happen to me, and elation in
the satisfaction of doing my duty. Hard as I traveled I was
breathing with perfect ease when I arrived at headquarters and
reported. I was told to lie down as it might be hours before I would
again have a chance to rest. It was impossible to sleep as file
after file of bombers and reinforcements piled into the different
buildings. I found out that the Germans were expected to attack the
French that night on the left of the salient, some hundred yards or
so from our position.
The signal, if the Huns attacked the French, was to be three red
flares flying up in rapid succession. Our Intelligence Department
was not asleep; the attack was expected at three o'clock and promptly
on the minute it began. The French held easily and we were not
needed.
Next morning I was sent back to my platoon and nothing very exciting
happened except the sharp shelling by Fritz of our position until
about ten o'clock, when a thing new to our experience came over. The
noise was appalling. It was the commencement of the awful
bombardment of Ypres.