Produced by Al Haines.
_*THE MOTOR-BUS IN WAR*_
_BEING THE IMPRESSIONS OF AN A.S.C.
OFFICER DURING TWO AND A
HALF YEARS AT THE FRONT_
_BY_
_A. M. BEATSON_
(_Temp. Lieut. A.S.C._)
_LONDON
T. FISHER UNWIN LTD.
ADELPHI TERRACE_
_First published in 1918_
(_All rights reserved_)
_To
LIEUT.-COL. GERALD CHARLES GORDON BLUNT,
D.S.O._
_Army Service Corps
as a mark of esteem_
_*CONTENTS*_
_Chapter_
I. Introduction
II. "Au Revoir" to England
III. Railhead
IV. Supply Columns and Rations
V. The Motor-Lorry Convoy
VI. The Workshops
VII. Life behind the Line
VIII. From Bethune to Ypres
IX. Mr. Thomas Atkins and the French
X. With the R.H.A. Batteries (contributed)
XI. Along the Somme Valley
XII. Between the Ancre and the Somme
XIII. From Arras to Albert
XIV. To Bapaume, Peronne, and Beyond
_*THE MOTOR-BUS IN WAR*_
_*Chapter I*_
_*INTRODUCTION*_
The War has been responsible, amongst other things, for the publication
of a number of books dealing with it in its different aspects and from
various points of view.
Many of these have been written by men who, previous to it, possibly
never thought of writing a book, and even less of seeing what they had
written reproduced in print.
Finding themselves, however, amongst entirely novel surroundings,
engaged in an adventure equally different from anything they had
previously anticipated even in their wildest flights of imagination,
they have sought to place on record some account of their experiences on
active service, but in nearly every case of the actual fighting in which
they have taken part with their regiments or batteries at the front.
The majority of people at home very naturally focus their mind's eye on
what is taking place actually in the long lines of trenches that stretch
from the sea in the North right down to Switzerland in the South,
particularly in those manned by the British armies, scarcely realizing
the stupendous part in the war drama that is played by the men engaged
in the vast organization behind the battle-line. The organization that
is essential in order to maintain an army in the field as an effective
fighting force, by supplying and conveying to it its two main
wants--food and ammunition--thus enabling it to keep itself alive and
destroy the life of its enemy. An army in the field drags behind it a
long chain of transport, mechanical and animal, advanced supply depots,
hospitals, rest camps, etc., and communications by which it is securely
fastened to fixed bases at its rear. There are in France to-day
thousands of men from the railheads nearest the firing-line, right
through the long lines of communication to the base supply depots,
leading a more or less uneventful life of regular routine, freed to a
certain extent from the dangers of shot and shell, but who are,
nevertheless, "doing their bit somewhere in France." Whether the
establishment of men so engaged is too large and should be reduced to
enable more men to be available for the firing-line, as has been
recently suggested in Parliament and elsewhere, is a matter I do not
propose to discuss at any length, but would add that nearly all the
criticism which has been levelled at Army administration has been
destructive as opposed to constructive criticism, which is, of course,
not only more difficult but infinitely more useful.
Preparations on a vast scale have been created, and should our armies in
due course advance and drive the invader before them, every bit of that
vast organization will be needed, and, moreover, should its efficiency
fail, the advancing armies would find themselves in a sorry plight.
A reduction in that establishment of personnel behind the line might,
therefore, prove fatal.
At least, it can be said for these men that their job is not of their
own seeking, and that they volunteered, many of them in the first weeks
of the war, for "active service," having no definite idea at all as to
what they would encounter and what was in store. Although they are
members of a combatant corps, opportunities for gallant actions and
distinctions seldom come their way. Lord Northcliffe has described them
as "The Army behind the Army." Such are the men of the administrative
branches of the Service, who deal with thousands of tons of every
imaginable material daily, from the time it is off-loaded from the ships
at seaport supply bases such as Rouen, Le Havre, Calais, etc., up to its
actual issue to the fighting troops at the front. Thus their operations
extend from the bases to within a few hundred yards of the trenches, the
interest and excitement of their work increasing proportionately with
its distance from the former.
It is of the doings of some of these men that I have endeavoured to
write a description, and the following pages contain an account of my
experiences with the British Expeditionary Force, chiefly incidents in
my particular appointment during 1914, '15, '16 and '17, as an Army
Service Corps officer in the Mechanical Transport Supply Column of an
Indian Cavalry Division. This book does not pretend to be an historical
record of the doings of the unit to which I have been attached during
this period, but merely a few sketches, written at random at various
times, of incidents that have occurred in the course of duty with the
largest mechanical transport unit (except the Base Mechanical Transport
Depots and Workshops) of the British Expeditionary Force in France.
Incidentally, these experiences have been unusually varied; though many
is the time when they have appeared to be exactly the opposite.
Nevertheless, the unit of which I write has consistently "rationed" its
troops at almost every part of the British line, from Ypres to the River
Somme, not to mention the places far behind the line where cavalry have
been billeted during the winters and other periods of enforced
inactivity. Looking at the map of the Western front war zone and
drawing on it roughly a rectangle, having for its four angular points
Boulogne and Ypres in the North and Rouen and Peronne in the South,
there is, in this area, scarcely a town through which, or a main road
over which, motor-lorries of the Supply Column have not travelled in
their many journeys, covering thousands of miles, during the last two
and a half years, up and down this strange land of "somewheres."
This has been called an engineers' war; it is certainly the first war in
which petrol-propelled mechanical transport has been employed to any
extent. Thousands of Army Service Corps motor-lorries, painted service
grey-green, line the roads behind the trenches in France and Flanders.
Petrol is surely the key to modern warfare. Operations on such a
gigantic scale could not be carried on without it, for petrol-propelled
vehicles are used, amongst other purposes, for the following:--
The conveying of food, clothes, ammunition, and water to the troops.
The haulage of heavy pieces of artillery.
The evacuation of sick and wounded to the casualty clearing hospitals,
etc.
The rapid movement of troops from one part of the line to another, and
as the quickest means of bringing up reinforcements.
The fate of Paris was largely changed, at the beginning of the War, by
the requisition and mobilization of some thousand or so motor taxi-cabs
during a night, at the order of the late General Gallieni. In them were
sent out twenty-five thousand troops, who by this means of transport
swiftly proceeded to the Ourcq and reinforced the French Army, which was
striking a terrific blow at the turned flank of Von Kluck's army. It
will be recalled that the enemy's columns advancing on Paris turned
abruptly eastwards to unexpectedly rush on the British Divisions and cut
them off from their juncture with the 5th French Army. They failed to
do so, but until the night of September 9th-10th the battle of
Nanteuil-sur-Marne hung in the balance. General Maunoury's army was
constantly being reinforced, however, by the troops which arrived at
Dammartin and other points in the requisitioned taxi-cabs so regularly
that the pressure was increased, the tide of battle turned, and the
capital of France saved. The stand put up by the allied French and
British Armies on the Marne will go down to posterity as the most epic
battle in European history. The warfare in France and Flanders, since
it settled down to a prolonged and continuous trench _strafe_, has been
described as consisting in "months of boredom punctuated by moments of
intense fear," and it has been to pass the time of day during some of
those months that the following chapters have been written. If they
succeed in giving the reader some slight idea of the scope, extent, and
versatility of work accomplished by the mechanical transport of the Army
Service Corps, of how our armies in the field are fed, and of the
soldier-man's life and surroundings at various distances "behind the
front"--what he sees and does there--they will not have been written in
vain. I have purposely avoided matters of controversy, and I have
written not as a critic but as an observer and the player of a very
small part in the great drama. I trust that the varying degrees of
discomfort, inseparable from active service, under which I have had to
write will be accepted as sufficient excuse for any lack of literary
style.
_*Chapter II*_
_*"AU REVOIR" TO ENGLAND*_
In the early stages of the War it was by no means uncommon for a man to
enlist in the Army Service Corps in the afternoon and the same night
find himself marching, in company with a good many others, into the
Mechanical Transport Depot at Grove Park, singing "Tipperary." The
following morning, having been put into khaki, he would be told off to a
motor-lorry, on which he would chalk such cryptic remark as
"London-Berlin Express." Later in the day he would be driving his
lorry--one of a convoy of many similar vehicles--to ----, and a few
hours after that he would be in France.
This is not exactly what happened to the author; suffice it to add that
in the first few days of August 1914 he enlisted, and on October 28th
made the meteoric flight from private in a Territorial Battalion to a
second-lieutenant in the Army Service Corps. On Sunday, November 15th,
he had just come up from Grove Park to London on a few hours' leave of
absence from duty, when a telegram arrived. It read:
"Return at once.--ADJUTANT."
Having followed this order, he was packed off at once to Woolwich, and
here found he was posted to the ---- Indian Cavalry Division Supply
Column. On Tuesday, the 17th, the column was due to leave Woolwich for
---- and sail for France almost immediately after arrival at the port of
embarkation. So on that morning we entrained; the motor-lorries and
half the personnel had gone on by road the previous day. The same night
we found ourselves at ----, ten officers and some 700 N.C.O.'s and men,
the latter composed of lorry drivers and supply details, with roughly
160 motor-lorries and cars. Half the lorries were old buses off the
London streets, but not of the usual "London General" appearance, for
they had been converted from passenger to food and forage carrying
vehicles by the substitution of van-shaped open bodies in place of the
familiar bright red, two-decker bus bodies. I was destined to travel
many thousands of miles on the front seat of many of these, and it has
often occurred to me during the course of my journeys that perhaps the
same buses that I have taken to Ypres have perhaps taken me on previous
occasions, before the War, down Piccadilly or along the Strand, under
entirely different circumstances. The remainder of the lorries were
brand new Silent Knight Daimlers, and the carrying capacity of the
majority of the lorries was thirty hundredweight. Painted grey-green
service colour, they presented a sombre spectacle, "parked" in a long
line along a straight open road just outside the docks. Besides the
lorries for carrying supplies, we had the large, closed, high-bodied,
portable workshop lorries, fitted with the essential tools--lathes,
drilling-machines, and the like--driven by petrol-electric sets, to
effect repairs to broken-down lorries in the field. Also the closed-in
store lorries, fitted with interior shelves and pigeon-holes, in which
were carried engineers' tools, stores of all kinds, spare parts, and
various equipment. In addition, we had five 12-16 h.p. Sunbeam
four-seater cars and a dozen or so Douglas motor-bicycles. Collectively,
the column occupied just a mile of road.
At ---- we did not enjoy ourselves. For one thing, 700 men, mostly quite
unaccustomed to military discipline, are not altogether easy to deal
with, and for another, the only sleeping accommodation available for
officers and men consisted in the floors of the various offices and
goods-yards at ---- Railway Station. Moreover, it was snowing hard, and
on the night of November 17th there were several degrees of frost.
Matters were made very much easier by the presence of an Army Chaplain
who was on duty at the docks. He mixed with and chatted to the men,
telling them what splendid fellows they were, and on the evening of our
arrival got up an impromptu concert, which proved a great
_divertissement_. Our stay was not, however, a long one; we did not
even wait to effect certain most necessary repairs to the lorries, and
those that were able to run under their own power towed those that could
not, and the splendid hydraulic cranes on the quayside at ---- soon
picked up each vehicle and securely deposited it--at the rate of about
five minutes per lorry--in the holds of the four tramps that, sailing
under sealed orders, were to transport the column to France. So on the
evening of November 19, 1914, I left England on H.M. Transport
_Trevithoe_, in company with two other second-lieutenants. On board we
had roughly a quarter of our personnel and vehicles. Our departure was
quite unlike that of any ship I have ever seen leave port or left port
on myself. There were no scurrying, hurrying crowds of people on the
quayside. The men filed on board almost silently in the darkness, each
carrying his rifle and kit. There were none of the usual spectators, no
relatives or friends to see us off. As each man crossed the gangway he
was handed a small piece of paper; on it was printed Lord Kitchener's
message to every soldier about to join the Expeditionary Force:
You are ordered abroad as a soldier of the King to help our French
comrades against the invasion of a common enemy. You have to perform a
task which will need your courage, your energy, your patience. Remember
that the honour of the British Army depends on your individual conduct.
It will be your duty not only to set an example of discipline and
perfect steadiness under fire, but also to maintain the most friendly
relations with those whom you are helping in this struggle. The
operations in which you are engaged will, for the most part, take place
in a friendly country, and you can do your own country no better service
than in showing yourself in France and Belgium in the true character of
a British soldier.
Be invariably courteous, considerate, and kind. Never do anything likely
to injure or destroy property, and always look upon looting as a
disgraceful act. You are sure to meet with a welcome and to be trusted;
your conduct must justify that welcome and trust. Your duty cannot be
done unless your health is sound. So keep constantly on your guard
against any excesses. In this new experience you may find temptations
both in wine and women; you must entirely resist both temptations, and,
while treating all women with perfect courtesy, you should avoid any
intimacy.
Do your duty bravely.
Fear God.
Honour the King.
KITCHENER,
_Field-Marshal._
When all were safely on the _Trevithoe_, the padre whom I have already
mentioned came on board and called the men around him. The senior
officer present called all to "Attention," and the padre proceeded to
bid us farewell and God-speed. He adjured the men to place absolute
confidence in their officers and obey them implicitly. He added that he
hoped all might come home safe and sound in due course, though there
were some who might never return. Our caps removed, he raised his hand
and gave the Blessing, and shaking hands with each officer and a good
many men, he went ashore. Emotion travels quickly through a crowd, and
his words had brought tears to the eyes of many who were leaving home so
suddenly, for the first time, only a few days after they had been
following their accustomed occupations as of yore. Never, I must admit,
have any words I have heard uttered made me feel so momentarily
miserable. Still, from the religious point of view it was, I suppose,
necessary to remind each man going out on active service of the
consequent possibility of meeting his death, that he might order his
life and conduct accordingly. The whistle blew, the hawsers were cast
off, and the _Trevithoe_ steamed slowly away from the quay. I leant
over the side of her deck to have a long last look at Old England, whose
gradually disappearing shore and lights I could just distinguish, as we
steamed out into the darkness. I wondered how long it would be before I
should see them again. Only the silhouetted figures of the padre and an
Embarkation Staff officer were to be seen on the quay.
I lit a cigarette and lingered a few minutes on deck, and as I looked
across the dark silent sea, the throb of the ship's engines seemed to
say repeatedly, "Three years or the duration!"
I am glad to have an opportunity of expressing our thanks to the captain
and officers of the ship's company of the _Trevithoe_ for the
hospitality they extended to us on board. They gave us the run of the
ship; we messed with them in their saloon and had a right royal time.
The captain offered to take me one day for a voyage more or less round
the world. After the war I hope to find an opportunity of holding him to
his promise!
Of the other ships which transported the Supply Column from ---- to
France, one was the _Woodfield_--and it was with regret that I read a
year or so later in the papers that she had come to an untimely end,
through being torpedoed by a German submarine--not, however, before she
had put up a gallant fight against superior odds and given the U-boat a
very unpleasant time of it.
After a voyage more or less uneventful, we lay to off Le Havre on the
evening of the 21st. The next morning we picked up a pilot and steamed
leisurely up the winding River Seine, appreciating the beautiful scenery
and no less the greeting of the riverside inhabitants, who waved Union
Jacks and the Tricolour, and whose frequent shouts of "Vive
l'Angleterre" and "Vive les Anglais" could be plainly heard, so narrow
is the river at many points. Such was our welcome to France, and
towards the evening of Sunday, November 22nd, we arrived at Rouen, and
the next day set foot on French soil. In a few hours, with the help of
the French pontoon cranes, so different, alas! to the hydraulic jibs at
----, we successfully slung and landed all the vehicles, without any
casualties of serious importance. The lorries were parked in a long line
on the road outside a former cinema theatre on the outskirts of Rouen,
which building was for the time being the Advanced Mechanical Transport
Depot of the British Expeditionary Force, and no time was lost in
completing equipment before starting on the journey by road up country.
Rouen, with its magnificent cathedral and quaint narrow streets, is an
altogether delightful town. It was, of course, full of khaki, and it
seemed strange to think that it, of all towns, should be occupied by
British troops. A few days later we started on the journey to the front.
The column went up in two sections. I was with the second to leave
Rouen, and we had with us half our vehicles, and carried all our
equipment, cooking utensils, stores, etc., for all the world like a huge
travelling circus. Leaving Rouen by the Route Nationale Number 28, we
wondered how soon it would be before we should encounter patrols of
Uhlans or come under shell fire. No one knew where the front exactly
was, how far away, or what it was like.
I had the pleasure of travelling together with our French Interpreter,
in the car which led the convoy, with the senior lieutenant who was in
charge of it. The first night after leaving Rouen we stopped at
Neufchatel-en-Bray, where there is a small country hotel, kept,
strangely enough, by an Englishwoman, who put up a very good dinner for
us and the best cider that Normandy can produce, which is saying a good
deal. The next morning we were on the road again, and by mid-day
reached Abbeville, outside which the convoy was halted while the officer
in charge proceeded into the town for orders as to our ultimate
destination. Pushing on, we arrived at Hesdin and stayed there the
night. Travelling throughout the following day, we at length reached
Lillers. This little town was full of troops of almost every imaginable
regiment, from dusky Indian Cavalry soldiers to kilted Highlanders.
Guns were booming away in the distance, and we realized that we were at
last at the front and within measurable distance of the trenches.
I was billeted for the night in a cafe in the square; all night long
could be heard the regular tramp of men marching, horses, and the wheels
of limbered wagons rumbling along the cobbled street, for Lillers is on
the main road to Bethune, not far beyond which were the trenches.
Resuming our journey the following day, we passed through the
picturesque old town of Bethune, with its typical _pave_ Grande Place
and square-towered church. At that time it was to all intents and
purposes momentarily deserted by its civilian population, for the
Germans had on the previous day caused much alarm and some damage by an
aeroplane raid and bomb-dropping exploit, and civilians took more notice
of such unaccustomed incidents at this period than they do nowadays.
Eventually we arrived at Fouquereuil, which for the time being was to be
our railhead. It consisted of a railway station, a couple of dozen or
so small cottages, a few estaminets and a brickfield. The latter served
as the parking ground for our mobile workshops and a good number of the
supply lorries, while the roofed-in part of it was used as sleeping
quarters for officers and men, the column office, and officers'
messroom. In the latter our table and chairs, if one may thus describe
them, were composed of loose bricks built up in heaps to the required
shapes. The Indian Cavalry regiments were billeted in the surrounding
villages.
The same evening two officers of the Supply and Transport Corps, Indian
Army, joined us, so that our establishment was complete and we were
ready to carry on. The following day we tasted for the first time the
joys of "loading"--refilling the lorries from the supply train at
railhead, which brings up from the Base the rations and forage for the
troops. It appeared at first a complicated and extremely lengthy
business, and the mud and rain--it seemed to rain continuously--did not
make matters any easier. Notwithstanding these several disadvantages, a
complete division of Indian Cavalry "in the field" was for the first
time in history rationed in Europe, and also for the first time anywhere
by means of mechanical transport.
_*Chapter III*_
_*RAILHEAD*_
Supply trains, which, as their name denotes, bring up supplies for the
troops in the field, are made up and loaded at the Base, and possibly
certain of their contents are loaded at intermediate points _en route_
in the line of communications. They then proceed to the regulating
station, which is to all intents and purposes the terminus of the lines
of communication, and from there they are dispatched to the railhead of
the Division for which the supplies are intended.
The railhead of a Division is the furthest point along the railway line
in the direction of the Division in question to which the supply train
travels. From that point motor-lorries are loaded up with rations and
forage drawn from the supply train, and in due course convey them by
road to the vicinity of the troops, where they either dump their
contents in bulk at a prearranged point, deliver it to each regiment
individually, or, in the case of an Infantry Division, off-load it to
the divisional horse train. This consists of a number of thirty
hundred-weight carrying capacity General Service wagons, which in turn
carry and deliver the supplies to the Brigade or regimental ration
dumps. From there they are taken on by carrying parties into the
trenches when necessary--the plan adopted being, of course, in
accordance with tactical considerations and the conditions prevailing.
The railhead usually consists of a station yard; fortunately, in France
they are nearly all large, rather more so, I think, than those of
country villages or small towns of corresponding size at home. They are
all built on the same pattern and have the same attributes. In winter
they are covered with a sea of ankle-deep mud and in summer they are as
dusty as the Sahara. In any season of the year they are places to avoid
from a pleasure point of view.
We will try to picture a typical railhead. It is about 6 a.m. Drawn up
in the yard of some country station, possibly one that has been blown to
bits by shell fire, are one or more goods trains. They are composed of
large closed-in trucks, each of which is marked "Hommes 40. Chevaux [en
long] 8." One reads this for the first time with feelings of sympathy,
for either the "hommes" or the "chevaux." But, for the trucks we are
going to deal with, the inscription is misleading, for they actually
contain rations for men and horses, and go to make up a supply train.
The Column Supply Officer arrives in his car and "takes over the train"
from the Railhead Supply Officer. The sealed trucks are opened up by
the supply personnel. A convoy of perhaps sixty to eighty empty
motor-lorries appears on the scene. They draw up outside the railhead
and are checked into the yard in batches and detailed for the load they
are to carry. Entering the yard, they "back" one by one up against the
open trucks and are loaded up from the train. The grocery trucks in
particular present a scene of great animation. The men who "issue" the
groceries are experts at their job, and can ladle out tea or sugar and
cut off given weights of cheese and bacon with a rapidity which is
amazing. So accurate are they, through long practice, that weights and
scales are almost unnecessary. Each railhead has attached to it several
officers of considerable importance, namely: Railway Transport Officer,
Railhead Supply Officer, Railhead Ordnance Officer, and a representative
of the Assistant Military Forwarding Officer, officially designated and
known only by their initials, R.T.O., R.S.O., R.O.O., and A.M.F.O.
respectively--not forgetting the "Commissaire Militaire," an officer of
the French Army, usually of advanced age and senior rank, who is the
liaison officer between the French and British Armies in matters of
traffic regulation and organization. The only other personnel at
railheads are a few military police, a handful of A.S.C. details, and
usually a company or so of some line regiment in charge of a subaltern.
These latter are employed as sentries over trains and on various
fatigues, and are usually part of the remnants of a battalion that has
had a rough time in the trenches and is out on rest, awaiting the
arrival from England of reinforcements to bring it up once more to its
fighting strength. The duties of the R.T.O. include all matters in
connection with the regulation of the railway traffic of his railhead,
such as the arrival and departure of supply and ammunition trains; the
entraining and detraining of troops, reinforcements and remounts; the
evacuation of sick and wounded men and horses; and last, but surely not
least, the issue of "movement orders" to officers and men travelling by
train, including the "leave train," which, being apparently of little or
no importance in the scheme of things, has to make way for all other
traffic on the line, and usually occupies from ten to twenty-four hours
to accomplish the journey from the front to Boulogne or Le Havre, as the
case may be; sometimes even longer in making the return journey. French
trains, at any rate in war-time, are anything but rapid, and to get to
one place from another by train is not always so easy a matter as might
at first appear.
* * * * *
The R.S.O. is responsible for the issue of all rations and forage at
railhead, whether from the supply trains or from the railhead "dump" or
"detail" trucks, while the R.O.O. deals with the classification and
return to the Base of all unserviceable and worn out material classed as
Ordnance Stores, which term includes such items as used shell cases,
rifles, boots, clothing, horseshoes, saddlery, and various equipment.
The A.M.P.O. receives and distributes the various boxes of presents,
luxuries, and so forth, sent by friends at home through the M.F.O.,
Southampton, a task more arduous than it may appear, particularly about
Christmas-time, and also dispatches home surplus personal and deceased
officers' kits, etc. At each railhead there is to be found also a field
post office. I need hardly add that from it His Majesty's mails, always
so eagerly awaited by all of us, are distributed and loaded on to postal
lorries of the Supply Column allotted for the purpose, which take the
mails on to the units of the Division. The field post offices are in
charge of the R.E.'s. What a wonderful corps the Sappers are! Their
versatility and multifarious duties are truly remarkable, varying as
they do from "tunnelling" and the administration of asphyxiating gases
to the Huns from our front line trenches to the maintenance of telephone
wires and the running of field post offices.
One of the excitements of railhead is the passing through of convoys of
German prisoners _en route_ to internment camps. On one occasion I
happened to be at Merville and saw a party of prisoners marched into the
railhead yard, where they were to entrain; their escort consisted of
some Gurkhas, whom they looked on with evident signs of alarm and
suspicion. The R.T.O. happened to be able to speak German, and very
soon formed the prisoners up in two ranks and marched them to the train,
giving his words of command in their own language, greatly, it need
scarcely be added, to their surprise.
On such occasions as the entraining of German prisoners, "souvenirs" are
in great demand, in the shape of German uniform buttons and helmets,
though the latter are more uncommon than was formerly the case. This
word "souvenir," which is frequently put in the form of a request by the
inhabitants to English soldiers, appears to cover a variety of articles,
from an empty shell case to a full tin of "bully." It is the recognized
custom within the war zone for every one to ask every one else for a
souvenir.
There is a current story of one Tommy who, writing home, remarked in the
course of his letter that the French were funny people, and the only
word of English they seemed to understand was "souvenir"!
_*Chapter IV*_
_*SUPPLY COLUMNS AND RATIONS*_
The Supply Column of a Cavalry Division consists roughly of 160
motor-lorries, mostly of a carrying capacity of thirty hundredweight
each. The column is divided into two echelons or sections of eighty
lorries, each of which works independently of the other. Briefly, the
system is as follows: The echelons load and deliver rations on alternate
days--that is to say, No. 1 Echelon draws rations from the supply train
at railhead on Monday and delivers them to the troops on Tuesday. No. 2
Echelon refills on Tuesday and delivers on Wednesday, and so on. The
rations in each case, being delivered direct to units in their billets
or bivouacs, are consumed by the troops on the day following delivery,
so that one day's rations are always held regimentally for the following
day's consumption.
The lorries are loaded in a particular manner, namely, "by regiments,"
and according to a definitely laid down scale of daily rations. That is
to say, each lorry is told off to a particular job, and the quantity of
each ration issued to a regiment is arrived at by multiplying together
the number of men or animals to be fed--that is "ration strength" of
each regiment--and the allowance of each particular ration, as laid in
the ration scale. The scale of rations and forage now prevailing for
personnel and animals is as follows:
BRITISH AND DOMINION TROOPS
(*Daily Ration per Man.*)
1 lb. fresh or frozen meat or 3/4 lb. (nominal) preserved meat.
1 1/4 lb. bread or 3/4 lb. biscuit.
4 oz. bacon.
3 oz. cheese.
2 oz. dried vegetables, peas, beans, or dried onions.
5/8 oz. tea.
4 oz. jam.
3 oz. sugar.
1/2 oz. salt.
1/50 oz. mustard.
1/36 oz. pepper.
1/12 tin condensed milk.
2 oz. butter, thrice weekly.
The ration of tobacco is 2 oz. per week, either in the form of
cigarettes or for pipe-smoking, and two boxes of matches are also
issued. There are certain extras issued according to season or
circumstances, such as rum, pea-soup, Oxo cubes, lime juice, and
candles. The fresh vegetable ration, such as potatoes and onions, is
1/2 lb. per man per day; it may come up by supply train or be a local
purchase.
Also must be mentioned the combined meat and vegetable or Maconachie
ration: the latter name, by which it is usually known, is that of its
original maker. It is issued in lieu of fresh meat and vegetables
occasionally, and to Mr. Thomas Atkins is the most popular feed. It
consists of stewed beef or mutton with carrots, onions, rice, and
potatoes, and is packed in an air-tight tin. It is only necessary to
boil the tin in water for about five minutes, then cut it open, and
there is a good meal ready cooked without any further trouble. Nothing
is overlooked: even, in summer-time, fly-papers are issued. Latterly,
sardines and pickles, and even rabbits, have become occasionally part of
the British ration. The iron or emergency ration, which is always
carried on the soldier, and is only consumed under exceptional
circumstances and at the direct order of an officer, consists of 1 lb.
of preserved meat 1 lb. of biscuit, 5/8 oz. of tea, 2 oz. sugar, and two
1 oz. cubes of meat extract, such as Oxo.
Curious incidents occur in the best regulated and fed armies; the
following is one: Some little time ago it was announced that a new kind
of ration in the form of tinned pork and beans would be issued to the
troops as soon as stocks of the same were available at the Base, and a
few months later the pork and beans ration duly put in its appearance;
appropriately enough in midsummer! On opening a tin a certain Railhead
Supply Officer was surprised to find it to apparently contain only
beans, the pork being conspicuous by its absence. As the contents were
intended to be a substitute for the ordinary fresh meat ration, he
opened a second tin, only to find that its contents were similar to the
first. He thereupon reported the absence of the elusive pork to the
Deputy Director of Supplies, and was in reply informed that, strange as
it might at first appear, the pork, though invisible, was none the less
present in each tin; it had, however, become "absorbed" by the beans. A
later request by the Railhead Supply Officer was to the effect that "in
view of the rapacious appetite of the beans now being issued as rations
of pork and beans, it would be advisable that, though a meat ration, the
latter be not sent up from the Base in the same truck of the supply
train as the fresh British meat, for fear of the devouring tendency of
the once homely bean."
For Indian personnel the "field" ration is as follows:
Atta ............................ 1 1/2 lb.
Fresh meat (goat or sheep) ...... 4 oz.
Dhal ............................ 4 oz.
Ghi ............................. 3 oz.
Gur ............................. 3 oz.
Potatoes ........................ 2 oz.
Tea ............................. 1/3 oz.
Ginger .......................... 1/6 oz.
Chillies ........................ 1/8 oz.
Turmeric ........................ 1/8 oz.
Garlic .......................... 1/8 oz.
Salt ............................ 1/2 oz.
Atta is coarse ground flour, very similar to that of which so-called
"standard" bread is made at home. Of it the natives make chupattis,
which are round flat cakes of baked dough. Dhal consists of dried peas.
Ghi is a kind of butter, which, judging from its smell, would appear to
be rancid. Gur is simply brown sugar or molasses. It will be noticed
that the native meat ration is very small. The natives are not
meat-eaters in the accepted sense of the word, and their small ration
they invariably "curry" with the ration of ginger, chillies, turmeric
and garlic, which are the raw ingredients of curry powder. Not
infrequently also they are issued with a ration of rice and also dried
fruits, when stocks are available.
The ration of forage for horses and mules varies according to the size
and type of the animals, from 6 lb. to 19 lb. oats, plus 10 lb. to 15
lb. hay. Hay is sent up in bales averaging from 80 lb. to 100 lb. in
weight and grain in sacks containing 80 lb.
It will be seen from the above scales that there are a number of
different rations to be weighed out and loaded; the operation of loading
at first took a considerable time at railhead, but with continual
practice we reduced the time and have consistently loaded the rations
and forage for the entire Division, roughly for the ten thousand men and
horses, in two and a half hours. Taking into consideration the fact
that we were dealing with British and Native rations, and that the
quantity amounted to about sixty-five lorry loads--over a hundred tons
of rations--two and a half hours is, I think, not a bad average for
time. Speed in loading, combined, of course, with accuracy, is
essential--it being not infrequently necessary to get the train away
quickly, so as to clear the line for other traffic.
After refilling, the lorries either remain near the railhead or proceed
towards the direction of the troops and park in a suitable position
until the following day, when they go out in convoy and off-load their
contents, returning immediately after doing so.
Most of the foregoing remarks apply to a Cavalry Divisional Supply
Column. With an Infantry Division matters are somewhat different, there
being only one echelon of lorries, which issue and are refilled on the
same day. Moreover, an Infantry Divisional Supply Column is loaded with
rations in bulk; a Cavalry Divisional Supply Column, as I have already
explained, is loaded "by regiments."
The reason for the first of the above differences is not difficult to
discover, for, infantry being slow-moving troops, the distance to be
covered by road by the Supply Column is not great, and cannot increase
rapidly, whereas with cavalry, the radius of mobility or action may be
possibly ninety miles each way out and back to railhead, and thus a
double establishment of vehicles is necessary. If the cavalry to be
rationed are on the move, supplies cannot be delivered until a definite
resting-point for the night has been reached, usually after dark. They
are then delivered by supply lorries direct to units in their billets or
bivouacs. With a Cavalry Division there is no horse train; obviously,
horse-drawn wagons could not keep pace with advancing cavalry. On the
latter presumption the "War Establishment" is entirely devised.
Ill-fed troops are worse than useless, and in the British Army no pains
or expense are spared to enable the soldier's daily ration to be not
only plentiful and of the best quality, but delivered to him with
clock-work regularity and dispatch. The Army Council evidently believe
in the Napoleonic maxim that "an army marches on its stomach." The
British meat ration, nearly always ---- frozen beef, and occasionally
---- chilled mutton, is excellent in quality. It, of course, requires
to be hung for a few days, when practicable--as Tommy puts it, "to get
the frost out of it," or, in other words, to be slowly thawed; after
that has been done, it satisfies the most fastidious or enormous
appetites. During the summer months it was found that the long journey
in a closed railway truck did not improve its quality, and for this
reason it was for a time sent up in trucks specially built for the
purpose and marked, "Insulated Meat Wagon. Viande gelee."
All the other rations are of equally good quality. The bacon, so much
appreciated, especially in the trenches, where cooking facilities are
not great, is of the best quality Irish. The butter, tinned dairy
butter. The cheese, mostly Canadian Cheddar. The jam, at first of the
proverbial plum and apple variety, was later varied by strawberry,
apricot, marmalade, and occasionally by honey. As for the tea, one can
taste worse in London drawing-rooms, and the bully beef, scorned perhaps
to a certain extent owing to the fact that it in time becomes
monotonous, is nevertheless the finest preserved meat procurable. The
bread is all baked in the A.S.C. field ovens at the Base, and owing to
the amount of moisture purposely left in it, does not readily become
stale. After being kept a week, if a loaf is sprinkled with water and
put into a hot oven for ten minutes or so it comes out as crisp as newly
baked bread. One of the commissariat problems, which, however, has been
solved satisfactorily, was the question of "Native meat," or the ration
of meat for Indian troops serving in Europe. The solution has been
found in the institution of "Native butcheries." A Native of high caste
in India would, of course, not eat any meat that even the shadow of a
European had passed over. In coming to France the Native troops have,
however, been granted certain religious dispensations, not only with
regard to food, but, in the case of Hindus, in being allowed to leave
the boundaries of their own country. Nevertheless, their caste rights
as to food are as strictly observed as the exigencies of active service
allow. The goats and sheep, chiefly Corsican and Swiss, purchased for
their consumption, are sent up in a truck to railhead alive, and are
slaughtered by men of their own caste in a butchery arranged for the
purpose, generally in a field or some open place in close proximity to
the railhead. The Mohammedan will eat only goats or sheep slaughtered
by having their throats cut, and the Hindu, by their being beheaded.
The latter method is carried out in the abattoir by a Native butcher
with the aid of a cavalry sword at one fell swoop, and of the two
methods is certainly to be recommended as being the most rapid and
instantaneous death. I need hardly add that the Native butchery is
always looked on as an object of awe and interest, if not of excitement,
by the French inhabitants, and none the less by English soldiers.
The Natives do not object to their meat being handled by English
soldiers, or to it being brought to them in the same lorry which also
perhaps carries British ration beef, although the cow is a sacred animal
to the Hindu and in the form of beef is naturally distasteful. The only
point is that the goat's meat or mutton intended for their consumption
must not actually come into contact with the beef, and this is arranged
for by a wooden barrier between the two, erected in the interior of the
lorry. On one occasion, however, the native rations for a certain
regiment had just been dumped on the side of the road, and were being
checked by the Daffadar, or Native Quartermaster-Sergeant, when at a
critical moment an old sow, followed by her litter, came out of a farm
gate and innocently ran over the whole show. A lot of palaver followed
amongst the Natives, and there was no alternative; they would not have
these rations at any price, and back they had to be taken to be
exchanged. The pig is, of course, abhorrent to the Mussulman. One
story in connection with the rationing of the Indian Cavalry whilst in
the trenches at Ypres in the summer of 1915 may be of interest. The cow
being a sacred animal to the Hindu, it became necessary to replace the
usual tins of bully beef by a suitable substitute. With this end in
view, quantities of tins of preserved mutton were sent up for the
consumption of Hindu personnel. The tins in which it was packed,
however, unfortunately bore the trade mark of the packers, Messrs.
Libby--a bull's head--and in consequence of this the Hindus would not
have it that their contents could be anything but beef, until their own
Native officers convinced them that such was not the case. It will be
seen that the organization for rationing Native troops is such that they
are able to be fed in accordance with the rites of their caste, surely a
not unimportant factor.
_*Chapter V*_
_*THE MOTOR-LORRY CONVOY*_
Our duties continued daily, with one or two exceptions, in an unbroken
monotony for the remainder of the winter, loading the supply lorries at
railhead one day and taking them out in convoy the next, to deliver the
supplies to the troops who were billeted in the surrounding villages.
What cold journeys those convoy jobs used to be too! The front seat of
a lorry leading a convoy, on a frosty, snowy, windy or wet day, is no
place for a joy ride, and the only alternative for a section officer,
namely, a motor-bicycle on a muddy or dusty road, as the case may be, is
not much better. The mud of the trenches in winter has become
proverbial, but it is not confined to them: it exists on the roads
behind the line as well. It must be seen to be believed! Take any good
main country road, that for years has been used merely by a few farmers'
carts and periodically perhaps by a small amount of motor-car traffic;
suddenly start running over it several hundred heavily loaded
motor-lorries, ambulances, general service wagons drawn by teams of four
horses, not to mention sundry motor-cars, motor-bicycles, and several
batteries of artillery; continue to do this every day for a few months,
in winter for choice; let the heavens pour forth torrents of rain,
fairly continuously day and night, as was the case during the winter
months of 1914; let the road be made on a clay soil and ill-drained,
perhaps not drained at all artificially--the one and only result in due
course will be a road full of pot holes and ankle-deep with mud and
slush. This is no exaggeration; it is exactly what has happened to the
roads on which we have to travel behind the trenches. The only wonder
is that they have stood such a severe test so well. In summer, of
course, they are correspondingly dusty, and it is an open question which
is the lesser of the two evils--to get oneself splashed from head to
foot with mud, or almost choked with dust. The user of the roads that
one pities most, though it must be admitted he appears to be perfectly
happy and contented with his job, is the motor cyclist dispatch rider.
Clad in leather overalls with map-case hanging from one shoulder,
dispatch case from the other, and revolver attached to his belt, he
dashes along the worst roads, frequently into the danger zone, wet or
fine, day or night, winter or summer, at lightning speed, nevertheless
finding time as he goes to salute any officer he may chance to meet or
overtake. This he accomplishes by turning his head and eyes smartly in
the direction of the officer to whom he is paying the compliment, at the
same time proceeding at considerable speed in a direction at right
angles to that towards which he has turned his head whilst saluting.
Such courtesy surely deserves appreciation from the officer!