We were lining up to go over in the Battle of Arras on April 9, 1917.
Ours being a Lancashire regiment, there were only two of us Cockneys in
our platoon. We were standing easy, waiting for the rum issue, and Tom,
my pal (we both came from Stratford), came over to me singing "Let's
all go down the Strand...."
Most of the Lancashire lads were looking a bit glum, but it cheered
them up, and they all began to sing. I was feeling a bit gloomy myself,
and Tom, seeing this, said: "What's the matter with you, Jimmy?"
"I suppose I'll see you in London Hospital next week, Tom," I said.
"Oh, shut up," says he. "If Jerry sends one over and it's got our names
on it, why worry? And if we get a bad Blighty one, then I hopes they
buries us at Manor Park. Here, Jim, tie this disc round me neck."
Then the rum came up, and he started them singing, "And another little
drink wouldn't do us any harm!"
Off we went--and only ten minutes later he was gone. He was buried at
Blany, Arras, not Manor Park.--_J. Pugh (late 1st King's Own Royal
Lancasters), 27 Lizban Street, Blackheath, S.E.5._