During the retreat from Mons it was the cavalry's work to hold up the
Germans as long as possible, to allow our infantry to get in position.
One day we had a good way to run to our horses, being closely pursued
by the Germans. When we reached them we were all more or less out of
breath. A little Cockney was so winded that he could hardly reach his
stirrup, which kept slipping from under his foot.
Just then a shrapnel shell burst directly overhead, and the Cockney,
without using his stirrup, vaulted clean into the saddle.
As we galloped off he gasped, "Blimey, don't they put new life in yer?
They're as good as Kruschens."--_E. H. (late R.H.G.), 87 Alpha Road,
Surbiton, Surrey._
Wot a War!
Three of us were sitting on the high ground on the Gallipoli Beach
watching shells dropping from the Turk positions.
A "G.S." wagon was proceeding slowly along below us, the driver huddled
in his coat, for the air was chill.
Suddenly he jumped from the wagon and ran in our direction--he had
heard the shell before we had.
The next moment the wagon was proceeding skywards in many directions,
and the horses were departing at top speed in different directions.
The driver surveyed the scene for a moment and then in a very
matter-of-fact voice said: "Blimey! See that? Now I suppose I've
got to _walk_ back, and me up all night--wot a war!" And away he
trudged!--_C. J. A., N.W.11._