READY TO GO--THE BATTALION MOVES
Rumour had been busy for days; the whole division was about to move,
so every one stated, except our officers, and official information was
not forthcoming.
"You are going between midnight and five o'clock to-morrow morning,"
announced my landlord positively. He is a coal-merchant by trade.
"How do you know?" I inquired.
"Because I can't get any coal to-morrow--line's bunged up for the
troops."
"No, he'll be going on Tuesday," said his wife, whose kindliness and
splendid cooking I should miss greatly.
"Is that so?" I asked, feigning an interest which I did not feel. A
sore toe eclipsed all other matters for the time being.
"The ration men have served out enough for two days, and it doesn't
stand to reason that they're going to waste anything," the little lady
continued with sarcastic emphasis on the last two words.
Parades went on as usual; the usual rations were doled out to billets
and the usual grumbling went on in the ranks. We were weary of false
alarms, waiting orders, and eternal parades. Some of us had been
training for fully six months, others had joined the Army when war
broke out, and we were still secure in England. "Why have we joined?"
the men asked. "Is it to line the streets when the troops come home?
We are a balmy regiment."
One evening, Thursday to be exact, the battalion orders were
interesting. One item ran as follows: "All fees due to billets will be
paid up to Friday night. If any other billet expenses are incurred
by battalion the same will be paid on application to the War Office."
Friday evening found more explicit expression of our future movements
in orders. The following items appeared: "Mess tin covers will be
issued to-morrow. No white handkerchiefs are to be taken by the
battalion overseas. All deficiencies in kit must be reported to-morrow
morning. Bayonets will be sharpened. Any soldiers who have not yet
received a copy of the New Testament can have same on application at
the Town Hall 6 p.m. on Saturday.
"Where are we going?" we asked one another. Some answered saying that
we were to help in the sack of Constantinople, others suggested Egypt,
but all felt that we were going off to France at no very distant date.
Was not this feeling plausible when we took into account a boot parade
of the day before and how we were ordered to wear two pairs of socks
when trying on the boots? Two pairs of socks suggested the trenches
and cold, certainly not the sun-dried gutters of Constantinople, or
the burning sands of Egypt.
Saturday saw an excited battalion mustered in front of the
quartermaster's stores drawing out boots, mess-tin covers, blankets,
ground-sheets, entrenching tools, identity discs, new belts,
water-bottles, pack-straps, trousers, tunics and the hundred and one
other things required by the soldier on active service. In addition
to the usual requisites, every unit received a cholera belt (they are
more particular over this article of attire than over any other),
two pairs of pants, a singlet and a cake of soap. The latter looked
tallowy and nobody took it further than the billet; the pants were
woollen, very warm and made in Canada. This reminds me of an amusing
episode which took place last general inspection. While standing easy,
before the brigadier-general made his appearance, the men compared
razors and found that eighty per cent. of them had been made in
Germany. But these were bought by the soldiers before war started. At
least all affirmed that this was so.
Saturday was a long parade; some soldiers were drawing necessaries
at midnight, and no ten-o'-clock-to-billets order was enforced that
night. I drew my boots at eleven o'clock, and then the streets were
crowded with our men, and merry and sad with sightseers and friends.
Wives and sweethearts had come to take a last farewell of husbands and
lovers, and were making the most of the last lingering moments in good
wishes and tears.
Sunday.--No church parade; and all men stood under arms in the
streets. The officers had taken off all the trumpery of war, the
swords which they never learned to use, the sparkling hat-badges and
the dainty wrist-watches. They now appeared in web equipment, similar
to that worn by the men, and carried rifles. Dressed thus an officer
will not make a special target for the sniper and is not conspicuous
by his uniform.
Our captain made the announcement in a quiet voice, the announcement
which had been waited for so long. "To-morrow we proceed overseas," he
said. "On behalf of the colonel I've to thank you all for the way in
which you have done your work up to the present, and I am certain
that when we get out yonder," he raised his arm and his gesture might
indicate any point of the compass, "you'll all do your work with the
spirit and determination which you have shown up till now."
This was the announcement. The men received it gleefully and a hubbub
of conversation broke out in the ranks. "We're going at last"; "I
thought when I joined that I'd be off next morning"; "What price a
free journey to Berlin!"; "It'll be some great sport!" Such were the
remarks that were bandied to and fro. But some were silent, feeling,
no doubt, that the serious work ahead was not the subject for idle
chatter.
A little leaflet entitled "Rules for the Preservation of Health on
Field Service," was given to each man, and I am at liberty to give a
few quotations.
"Remember that disease attacks you from outside; it is your duty to
keep it outside."
"Don't drink unboiled water if you can get boiled water."
"Never start on a march with an empty stomach."
"Remember that a dirty foot is an unsound foot. See that feet are
washed if no other part of the body is. Socks should be taken off at
the end of the march, be flattened out and well shaken. Put on a clean
pair if possible, if not, put the left sock on the right foot, and
vice versa."
"Remember, on arrival in camp, _food before fatigues_."
"Always rig up some kind of shelter at night for the head, if for no
other part of the body."
At twelve noon on Monday the whistles blew at the bottom of the street
and we all turned out in full marching order with packs, haversacks,
rifles and swords. I heard the transport wagons clattering on the
pavement, the merry laughter of the drivers, the noise of men falling
into place and above all the voice of the sergeant-major issuing
orders.
Yet this, like other days, was a "wash-out." All day we waited for
orders to move, twice we paraded in full marching kit, eager for the
command to entrain; but it was not forthcoming. Another day had to
be spent in billets under strict instructions not to move from our
quarters. The orders were posted up as usual at all street corners,
a plan which is adopted for the convenience of units billeted a great
distance from headquarters, and the typewritten orders had an air of
momentous finality:
The battalion moves to-morrow.
Parade will be at 4.30 a.m.
Entraining and detraining and embarking must be done in absolute
silence.
I rose from bed at three and set about to prepare breakfast, while my
cot-mate busied himself with our equipment, putting everything into
shape, buckling belts and flaps, burnishing bayonets and oiling the
bolts of the rifles. Twenty-four hours' rations were stored away in
our haversacks all ready, the good landlady had been at work stewing
and frying meat and cooking dainty scones up to twelve o'clock the
night before.
When breakfast, a good hearty meal of tea, buttered toast, fried bacon
and tomatoes, was over, we went out to our places. The morning was
chilly, a cold wind splashed with hail swept along the streets and
whirled round the corners, causing the tails of our great coats to
beat sharply against our legs. It was still very dark, only a few
street-lamps were lighted and these glimmered doubtfully as if ashamed
of being noticed. Men in full marching order stamped out from every
billet, took their way to the main street, where the transport wagons,
wheels against kerbstones, horses in shafts, and drivers at reins,
stood in mathematical order, and from there on to the parade ground
where sergeants, with book in one hand and electric torch in the
other, were preparing to call the roll.
Ammunition was served out, one hundred and twenty rounds to each man,
and this was placed in the cartridge pouches, rifles were inspected
and identity discs examined by torch-light. This finished, we were
allowed to stand easy and use ground-sheets for a shelter from the
biting hail. Our blankets were already gone. The transport wagons had
disappeared and with them our field-bags. I suppose they will await
us in ---- but I anticipate, and at present all we know is that our
regiment is bound for some destination unknown where, when we arrive,
we shall have to wear two pairs of socks at our work.
We stood by till eight o'clock. The day had cleared and the sun was
shining brightly when we marched off to the station, through streets
lined with people, thoughtful men who seemed to be very sad, women who
wept and children who chattered and sang "Tipperary."
Three trains stood in the sidings by the station. Places were allotted
to the men, eight occupied each compartment, non-commissioned officers
occupied a special carriage, the officers travelled first-class.
Soon we were hurrying through England to a place unknown. Most of my
comrades were merry and a little sentimental; they sang music-hall
songs that told of home. There were seven with me in my compartment,
the Jersey youth, whom I saw kissing a weeping sweetheart in the cold
hours of the early day; Mervin, my cot-mate, who always cleaned the
rifles while I cooked breakfast in the morning; Bill, the Cockney
youth who never is so happy as when getting the best of an argument
in the coffee-shop of which I have already spoken, and the Oxford man.
The other three were almost complete strangers to me, they have just
been drafted into our regiment; one was very fat and reminded me of a
Dickens character in _Pickwick Papers_; another who soon fell asleep,
his head warm in a Balaclava helmet, was a tall, strapping youth with
large muscular hands, which betoken manual labour, and the last was a
slightly-built boy with a budding moustache which seemed to have been
waxed at one end. We noticed this, and the fat soldier said that the
wax had melted from the few lonely hairs on the other side of the lip.
Stations whirled by, Mervin leant out of the window to read their
names, but was never successful. Cigarettes were smoked, the carriage
was full of tobacco fumes and the floor littered with "fag-ends."
Rifles were lying on the racks, four in each side, and caps, papers
and equipment piled on top of them. The Jersey youth made a remark:
"Where are we going to?" he asked. "France I suppose, isn't it?"
"Maybe Egypt," someone answered.
"With two pairs of socks to one boot!" Mervin muttered in sarcastic
tones; and almost immediately fell asleep. He had been a great
traveller and knows many countries. His age is about forty, but he
owns to twenty-seven, and in his youth he was educated for the church.
"But the job was not one for me," he says, "and I threw it up." He
looks forward to the life of a soldier in the field.
Our train journey neared the end. Bill was at the window and said that
we were in sight of our destination. All were up and fumbling with
their equipment; and one, the University man, hoped that the night
would be a good one for sailing to France.
If we are bound for France we shall be there to-morrow.
THE END.
* * * * *
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SONGS OF THE DEAD END
POEMS BY PATRICK MACGILL
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