Our men had just had their papers from home, and have noted, among
other things, that “Business as Usual” is the motto of patriotic
shopkeepers. In hard fighting the Wiltshires, holding an exposed
position, ran out of ammunition, and had to suspend firing until a
party brought fresh supplies across the open under a heavy fire.
Then the wag of the regiment, a Cockney, produced a biscuit tin with
“Business as Usual” crudely printed on it, and set it up before the
trenches as a hint to the Germans that the fight could now be resumed
on more equal terms. Finally the tin had to be taken in because it was
proving such a good target for the German riflemen, but the joker was
struck twice in rescuing it: _A Private of the Wiltshire Regiment_.
For Neuralgia!
We’re just keeping at it in the same old slogging style that always
brings us out on top. There’s one chap in our company has got a ripping
cure for neuralgia, but he isn’t going to take out a patent, because
it’s too risky, and might kill the patient. Good luck’s one of the
ingredients, and you can’t always be sure of that. He was lying in
the trenches the other day nearly mad with pain in his face, when a
German shell burst close by. He wasn’t hit, but the explosion knocked
him senseless for a bit. “Me neuralgia’s gone,” says he, when he came
round. “And so’s six of your mates,” says we. “Oh, crikey!” says
he. His name’s Palmer, and that’s why we call the German shells now
“Palmer’s Neuralgia Cure”: _Pte. H. Thomson, 1st Gordon Highlanders_.
“The Wearin’ o’ the Green!”
The German officer rushed off to Tim Flanagan, the biggest caution in
the whole regiment, and called on him to surrender the file of men
under his orders. “Is it me your honour’s after talking to in that
way?” says Tim in that bold way of his. “Sure, now, it’s yourself that
ought to be surrendering, and if you’re not off this very minute, you
ill-mannered German omadhaun, it’s me will be after giving you as
much cold steel as’ll do you between this and the kingdom of heaven.”
Then the German officer gave the word to his men, and what happened
after that I can’t tell to you, for it was just then I got a bullet
between my ribs; but I can tell you that neither Tim nor any of his men
surrendered: _A Private of the Connaught Rangers_.