When Regina Trench was taken in 1916 it was in a terrible state, being
half full of thick liquid mud. Some of the fellows, sooner than wade
through this, were getting up and walking along the top, although in
view of the Germans.
The Cockney signaller who was with me at the time, after slithering
along the trench for a time, said: "I've 'ad enough er this," and
scrambled out of the trench.
He had no sooner got on top when--_zipp_--and down he came with a
bullet through his thigh.
While bandaging his wound I said: "We're going to have a job to get you
out of here, but we'll have a good try."
"That's all right," said the Cockney, "you carry on an' leave me. I'll
wait for a blinkin' barge and change at Wapping."--_H. Redford (late
R.F.A.), 49 Anselm Road, Fulham._
"The Canary's Flowed Away!"
I was in charge of a party carrying material from the dump to the
Engineers in the front line. One of the party, a man from Camberwell,
was allotted a bulky roll of barbed wire.
After a desperate struggle through the muddy and narrow support
trenches, we reached the front line. There was still another 400 yards
to go, and our Cockney decided to continue the journey along the
parapet.
He had not gone far before the German machine guns began to spit and he
fell in a heap into the bottom of the trench with the coil of barbed
wire on top of him.
Thinking he was wounded, I went back to him and inquired if he was hit.
"'It? 'It be blowed," he said, "but if somebody was to take this
blinkin' birdcage orf me chest I might be able to get up."
The journey was completed through the trench, our friend being a sorry
sight of mud and cut fingers and face.
On arriving at our destination he dropped the wire at the feet of
the waiting corporal with the remark, "'Ere you are, mate; sorry the
canary's flowed away."--_A. S. G. (47th Division), Kent._
"Go it, Applegarf! I'll time yer!"
Our battalion was making a counter-attack at Albert on March 29, 1918,
against a veritable hail of lead. Wounded in the thigh, I tumbled into
a huge shell hole, already occupied by two officers of the Fusiliers
(Fusiliers had been on our left), a lance-corporal of my own battalion,
and three other men (badly wounded).
Whilst I was being dressed by the lance-corporal another man jumped in.
He had a bullet in the chest. It didn't need an M.O. to see that he was
"all in," and he knew it.
He proved to be the most heroic Cockney I have ever seen. He had only
minutes to live, and he told us not to waste valuable bandages on him.
Thereupon one of the officers advised me to try to crawl back before my
leg got stiff, as I would stand a poor chance of a stretcher later with
so many badly-wounded men about. If I got back safe I was to direct
stretcher-bearers to the shell hole.
I told the officer that our battalion stretcher-bearers were behind
a ridge only about 100 yards in the rear, and as my wound had not
troubled me yet I would make a sprint for it, as the firing was still
too heavy to be healthy.
On hearing my remarks this heroic Cockney, who must also have been a
thorough sportsman, grinned up at me and, with death written on his
face, panted: "Go it, Applegarf, an' I'll time yer." [Applegarth was
the professional sprint champion of the world.] The Cockney was dead
when I left the shell hole.--_F. W. Brown (late 7th Suffolks), 247
Balls Pond Road, Dalston, N._