A battalion of the 47th London Division was making its first journey to
the front line at Givenchy.
As we were proceeding from Béthune by the La Bassée Canal we passed
another crowd of the same Division who had just been relieved. We
were naturally anxious to know what it was like "up there," and the
following conversation took place in passing:
"What's it like, mate?"
"All right."
"Had any casualties?"
"Yes, mate, two wounded, and a bloke lost 'is 'at."--_F. G. Nawton,
(ex-Major 15th Batt. M.G.C., 2 Kenton Park Road, Kenton, Middlesex)._
And it Started with a Hen Raid!
While we were behind the line in March 1918 some chickens were stolen
from the next village and traced to our billet by the feathers.
As the culprits could not be found our O.C. punished the whole company
by stopping our leave for six months.
A few days later we "moved up" just as Jerry broke through further
south. The orderly sergeant one night read out orders, which finished
up with Sir Douglas Haig's famous dispatch ending with the words:
"All leave is now stopped throughout the Army till further orders."
Thereupon a tousled head emerged from a blanket on the floor with this
remark: "Blimey, they mean to find out who pinched those blinking
chickens."--_J. Slack, 157 Engadine Street, Southfields, S.W.18._
"I'm a Water-Lily"
This incident took place on the Neuve Chapelle front early in 1916.
Our platoon was known as the "Divisional Drainers," for it was our job
to keep the trenches as free from water as possible.
One day, while we were working in a very exposed drain about three feet
deep, Jerry was unusually active with his whizz-bangs, and we were
repeatedly shelled off the job. During one of our periodical "dives"
for cover, one of the boys (a native of Canning Town) happened to be
"left at the post," and instead of gaining a dry shelter was forced to
fling himself in the bottom of the drain, which had over two feet of
weedy water in it.
Just as he reappeared, with weeds and things clinging to his head and
shoulders, an officer came to see if we were all safe.
On seeing our weed-covered chum he stopped and said, "What's the
matter, Johnson? Got the wind up?"
Johnson, quick as lightning, replied, "No, sir; camouflage. I'm a
water-lily."--_F. Falcuss (late 19th Batt. N.F.), 51, Croydon Grove,
West Croydon._