In one of our fights it was necessary to give orders to a battalion
holding an exposed position to retire. Bugle-calls were no good, and
the only thing was for men to risk their lives by rushing across an
open space of 400 yards at least under a hellish fire. Volunteers were
asked for from the Royal Irish Fusiliers, and, though every man knew
that he was taking his life in his hand, the whole lot volunteered.
They couldn’t all go, so they tossed for it in files, the man who
couldn’t guess the way the coin came down at least once out of three
times being selected. The first was a shock-headed chap who didn’t look
as if there was very much in him. Ducking his head in a comic way that
would have made you roar, he rushed into that blinding hail of bullets.
He cleared the first 100 yards without being hit. It was a miracle how
he did it, but in the second lap he was hit. He ran on for a minute or
two, but staggered and fell after being hit a second time. Two more men
stepped forward and dashed across while the Germans were doing their
best to pink them. One picked up the wounded man and started to carry
him in to the trenches, while the other ran ahead with the precious
dispatch. Just as the wounded man and his mate were within a few yards
of safety and we were cheering them for all we knew, there was a
perfectly wicked volley from the Germans, and both of them collapsed.
We dragged them in, but it was too late. Both were dead. The fourth man
kept up his race against death and seemed to bear a charmed life, but
in the last lap as you might say he went down like a felled ox. He was
seen from the trenches to which the message was being taken, and half
a dozen men ran out to his aid, the Germans renewing their fire with
greater fierceness. The whole of the little party was shot down, but
the wounded Fusilier still continued to crawl to the trenches with his
message. Another party came out and carried him in, as well as seeing
to the others. Later the battalion holding the advanced position was
able to fall back in good order, but it wasn’t the least bit too soon,
and had it not been for those brave chaps, who risked their lives to
carry that message, there would have been a battalion less to fight
our battles that day, as the Germans were working round unknown to the
officer in command, and would have cut it off as sure as I’m a soldier:
_A Corporal of the Gloucester Regiment_.