The morning after I arrived at the 14th the Germans concentrated
their fire on a large turnip-field and exhumed multitudinous turnips.
No further damage was done, but the field was unhealthily near the
Estaminet de l'Epinette. In the afternoon we moved our headquarters
back a mile or so to a commodious and moderately clean farm with a
forgettable name.
That evening two prisoners were brought in. They owned to eighteen,
but did not look more than sixteen. The guard treated them with kindly
contempt. We all sat round a makeshift table in the loft where we slept
and told each other stories of fighting and love and fear, while the
boys, squatting a little distance away, listened and looked at us in
wonder. I came in from a ride about one in the morning and found those
of the guard who were off duty and the two German boys sleeping side by
side. Literally it was criminal negligence--some one ought to have been
awake--but, when I saw one of the boys was clasping tightly a packet of
woodbines, I called it something else and went to sleep.
A day or two later I was relieved. On the following afternoon I was
sent to Estaires to bring back some details about the Lahore Division
which had just arrived on the line. I had, of course, seen Spahis and
Turcos and Senegalese, but when riding through Lestrem I saw these
Indian troops of ours the obvious thoughts tumbled over one another.
We despatch riders when first we met the Indians wondered how they
would fight, how they would stand shell-fire and the climate--but
chiefly we were filled with a sort of mental helplessness, riding among
people when we could not even vaguely guess at what they were thinking.
We could get no deeper than their appearance, dignified and clean and
well-behaved.
In a few days I was back again at the 14th with Huggie. At dusk the
General went out in his car to a certain village about three miles
distant. Huggie went with him. An hour or so, and I was sent after him
with a despatch. The road was almost unrideable with the worst sort
of grease, the night was pitch-black and I was allowed no light. I
slithered along at about six miles an hour, sticking out my legs for
a permanent scaffolding. Many troops were lying down at the side of
the road. An officer in a strained voice just warned me in time for me
to avoid a deep shell-hole by inches. I delivered my despatch to the
General. Outside the house I found two or three officers I knew. Two
of them were young captains in command of battalions. Then I learned
how hard put to it the Division was, and what the result is of nervous
strain.
They had been fighting and fighting and fighting until their nerves
were nothing but a jangling torture. And a counter-attack on Neuve
Chapelle was being organised. Huggie told me afterwards that when the
car had come along the road, all the men had jumped like startled
animals and a few had turned to take cover. Why, if a child had met one
of these men she would have taken him by the hand instinctively and
told him not to be frightened, and defended him against anything that
came.
First we talked about the counter-attack, and which battalion would
lead; then with a little manipulation we began to discuss musical
comedy and the beauty of certain ladies. Again the talk would wander
back to which battalion would lead.
I returned perilously with a despatch and left Huggie, to spend a
disturbed night and experience those curious sensations which are
caused by a shell bursting just across the road from the house.
The proposed attack was given up. If it had been carried out, those men
would have fought as finely as they could. I do not know whether my
admiration for the infantry or my hatred of war is the greater. I can
express neither.