'GUNGA DIN' OF THE RED TRIANGLE
'You and your Association seem to me to be truly
hitting the nail on the head, and working for the
good of our soldier-lads, one and all. I have
watched the Y.M.C.A. procedure at many camps, and
have found it exactly adapted to the wants of
large numbers of young men taken temporarily away
from their homes and normal
associations.'--GENERAL SIR IAN HAMILTON.
ONE of the most striking of Kipling's characters was Gunga Din, the
Indian water-carrier. He was not a fighting man, but when fighting was
taking place he was in the thick of it, risking his life that he might
carry water to slake the thirst of the fighting man. 'Gunga Din' was the
appropriate name given to one of our leaders in France by a British
Tommy. Those who do not know are sometimes inclined to sneer at the
Y.M.C.A. man for having a 'cushy' job, but it is hard work from start
to finish. His job is never done and very often is attended with
considerable risk. His work may carry him right into the front line
trenches and though it does not take him 'over the top,' yet, unlike the
soldier, he has not the privilege of hitting back. His day's work will
vary according to the camp. In all probability he will have to be up
early in the morning, to get the coffee ready. The hut must be cleaned,
and there will be a lot of canteen work to be done. The buying will
occupy some time, and then there will be the evening programme to
arrange and carry through. He must maintain personal touch with the men
using the hut, so that the ideal leader must be half a dozen men rolled
into one.
Our greatest difficulty during the war has been that of getting a
sufficiency of workers of the right type. Every male worker is
registered with the Director of Recruiting, and we are unable to recruit
new men classified A between the ages of 18 and 52, or 18 and 45 for
service overseas.
Twelve members of the Y.M.C.A. have won the Victoria Cross, 3 the
D.S.O., 33 the M.C., 25 the D.C.M., and 53 the M.M., whilst registered
at Headquarters are the names of 1223 who have made the supreme
sacrifice. We think of many whose war work for the Y.M.C.A. has earned
the title of 'Gunga Din,' as, for example, the young leader of the New
Zealand work in France. He looks a boy, but is a genius for organising,
and the pioneer of the work of the Red Triangle in advanced positions.
Another man who has the instincts of the pioneer is the leader of the
Australian workers in Egypt and Palestine, and yet another, a well-known
Y.M.C.A. worker who, after doing good service in England in the early
days of the war, went to represent Headquarters in Egypt. Torpedoed _en
route_ he took up his new work with characteristic enthusiasm and made
good. Hundreds have rendered equally valuable service, so that it would
be invidious to mention names.
In the great retreat, it was the D.A.Q.M.G. of the ---- Corps who asked
us to open up a Stragglers' Post at Westoutre. 'You are the people who
can cheer up the men,' said he; 'I want you to get hold of the
stragglers before they become deserters.' It was 'Gunga Din' he needed,
but this time with cocoa-urn instead of water-bottle, and it was only an
old bank to which our workers fixed their Red Triangle, but it was just
what was needed. A bursting shell forced them to quit, but half an hour
later they had opened up again in the village shop, opposite the church,
and the mayor thanked them later on for their successful efforts.
Our officers' hut at Romerin was set on fire by a shell; shells were
falling fast, and the larger hut soon became untenable, but the Y.M.C.A.
man was running his show in the open under a tree, and was as busy as
ever. The ubiquitous 'Ford' did its bit, and its load would sometimes
consist of the Divisional Secretary himself, one or two other workers or
Belgian refugees, a big caterer's boiler, a tea-urn, together with cases
of biscuits and cigarettes. Thus equipped, it would proceed to some
advanced dressing-station. Sometimes there would only be a sergeant and
orderlies in charge, heroically doing their best to help the wounded,
and the mere presence of a man like one of our secretaries gave them
confidence, whilst the steaming hot drinks he soon had ready gave new
courage to the wounded men who thronged the C.C.S. A great work of the
'Gunga Din' type was done on the Nieppe-Bailleul road during the
retreat. What an amazing scene it must have been; an endless stream of
refugees and wounded; units lost; batteries firing; men who had been for
days without food, moving about like ghosts and digging themselves in at
the side of the road. The Huns were only about eight hundred yards
further along the road, and our soldiers fired as they walked. For three
nights none of our workers even thought of going to bed; they stood by
with cars ready to help where and how they were most needed, and gave
help to soldiers and refugees alike. At dressing and casualty clearing
stations they gave emergency help. At Remy, for instance, one of our men
was told off to undress the wounded and rig them out in new pyjamas,
whilst another made himself useful in cleaning the floors. Hot drinks
were given out freely in all these centres just behind the line.
Following the British victory at Messines on June 7, 1917, a Leeds
minister serving on the staff of the Y.M.C.A. wrote home describing the
work for the walking wounded as he had seen it:--
'It was about three o'clock in the morning when
the signal to advance was given, and the boys went
over the parapet. About two hours later the
wounded began to arrive at our hospital in
ambulance vans. It had been previously arranged
that only as far as possible walking cases--men
slightly wounded--should be dealt with at our
station, and the expeditious and efficient way in
which their wounds were attended to reflected
great credit on the medical staff. As soon as they
left the dressing-room they were passed on to our
Y.M.C.A., where we supplied them with various
kinds of refreshments free. It was my great
privilege to serve the first patient, who had a
broken arm, with a freshly-made cup of tea and a
sandwich, and never shall I forget his look and
words of appreciation. Some were too ill to eat
anything for a time, especially those who had been
gassed or were suffering from shell-shock, but
they were very glad of a seat on the grass in the
shade of our tent. Some were so badly wounded that
they were unable to speak, while others were half
deaf and dumb as the result of shock. It was
pathetic to see such men scribbling their request
for a drink on a piece of paper. All were loud in
their praise of the Y.M.C.A. and many were quite
overcome when they realised that the tea,
lemonade, cigarettes, and various kinds of
eatables were provided free. One Scottish New
Zealander, whose father is a well-known seed
merchant in Edinburgh, declared that the Y.M.C.A.
was the greatest thing in the war. In addition to
attending to the needs of the "inner man"--and
some of them we had to feed like babies, as both
hands were wounded--we wrote letters and field
cards for them, and tried in every possible way to
add to their comfort. The spirit manifested by the
majority of them was simply splendid, and scarcely
ever did they refer to their own suffering and
hardships.'