WITH THE FOURTEENTH
Early the following morning after Mass I said “au revoir” to the old
priest and his sister, who walked down to the gate to see me off.
On the way, fearing it might be evening before I would find my
battalion, I bought an ordinary three-ounce tin of sardines and paid
sixty-five cents for it; but I never ate it. I had the great good
fortune to meet a lorry, going towards the front, which brought me to
within a few hundred yards of the Sixteenth Battalion, which was camped
in a wide green valley. I was fortunate in finding my unit, but soon I
was to learn of what was the first of a series of misfortunes.
George met me as I came along and there was a look in his face that I
had never seen there before.
“I’m sorry, sir, but I have bad news for you,” he said. “Your bed-roll
and all your belongings have been burned.”
Poor George turned his face away. It really hurt him to have to tell
anything so unpleasant.
“My portable altar, too, George?” I questioned, as fear tugged at my
heart.
George turned towards me, his face brightening.
“No, sir. We saved that. Everything in the little church is all right.”
George always called the altar the “little church.”
Then he went on to tell me that a fire had broken out, during the
night, in the corrugated iron hut where I was to have slept, and that
when it was discovered it was too late to save two bed-rolls; he had
managed, however, to bring out one bed-roll and my portable altar.
It was now late in September and the evenings were becoming quite cold.
I would miss very much my blankets, cloak and overcoat, all of which,
together with many other articles, had been burned. I still had my
trench coat, which I was wearing at the time.
“Well, George,” I said finally, “it could have been a great deal worse.
I am very thankful that I did not lose my trench coat.”
A few evenings later, while I was standing outside my hut examining a
new bicycle that had come to me from headquarters, a runner came up and
passed me a D. R. L. S. letter. As I read it, I felt my hand tremble. I
was to report immediately to the Fourteenth Battalion, where I was now
attached for quarters and rations; Captain the Rev. G. Colthurst was to
exchange places with me. He was a Church of England chaplain.
That evening I left, my heart filled with regrets; but a soldier must
obey. I said good-bye to George, although I hoped to see him often. He
thanked me for the way I had treated him, though I had only given him
the consideration which as a thorough gentleman he deserved. I thanked
him in return for all he had done for me. Twice, if not oftener, during
the recent heavy fighting he had come through a terrific barrage of
shell-fire and gas to guide me to the transport mess. He had actually
risked his life where he was not bound to do so.
The second in command of the Fourteenth, Major Price, welcomed me
cordially to the battalion. The colonel was then absent. Major Price,
though a very kind man with a most gentle disposition, held one of the
finest records in the army, rising from a private in the ranks to be
colonel of the battalion.
The officers of the Fourteenth were a fine lot of men, yet they never
filled the place in my affections that the officers of the Sixteenth
had won.