We called him "M'lord." He came from Hoxton--"That's where they
make 'em," he used to say. He was a great asset to us, owing to the
wonderful way in which he went out and "won" things.
One night, near Amiens, in 1916, "M'lord" said, "I'm going aht to see
wot some uvver mob has got too much of." One or two of us offered to
accompany him, but he refused, saying, "You bloomin' elephants 'ud be
bahnd to give the gime away."
About three hours later, when we were beginning to get anxious, we
saw him staggering in with a badly wounded German, who was smoking a
cigarette.
Seeing us, and very much afraid of being thought soft-hearted, "M'lord"
plumped old Fritz down on the fire-step and said very fiercely, "Don't
you dare lean on me wif impunity, or wif a fag in your mouf."
Jerry told us later that he had lain badly wounded in a deserted
farmhouse for over two days, and "M'lord" had almost carried him for
over a mile.
"M'lord" was killed later on in the war. Our battalion was the 7th
Batt. Royal Fusiliers (London Regt.)--_W. A., Windsor._