During February and March 1918 the 1/13th Battalion London Regiment
(the Kensingtons), who were at Vimy Ridge, had been standing-to in the
mornings for much longer than the regulation hour because of the coming
big German attack. One company commander--a very cheery officer--was
tired of the general "wind up" and determined to pull the legs of the
officers at Battalion H.Q. It was his duty to send in situation reports
several times a day. To vary things he wrote a situation report in
verse, sent it over the wire to B.H.Q., where, of course, it was taken
down in prose and read with complete consternation by the C.O. and
adjutant!
It showed the gay spirit which meant so much in the front line at a
time when everyone's nerves were on edge. It was written less than two
days before the German offensive of March 21. Here are the verses:
(_C Company Situation Report 19/3/18_)
There is nothing I can tell you
That you really do not know--
Except that we are on the Ridge
And Fritz is down below.
I'm tired of "situations"
And of "wind" entirely "vane."
The gas-guard yawns and tells me
"It's blowing up for rain."
He's a human little fellow.
With a thoughtful point of view,
And his report (uncensored)
I pass, please, on to you.
"When's old Fritzie coming over?
Does the General really know?
The Colonel seems to think so,
The Captain tells us 'No.'
"When's someone going to tell us
We can 'Stand-to' as before?
An hour at dawn and one at dusk,
Lor' blimey, who wants more?"
The word "vane" in the second verse refers, of course, to the
weather-vane used in the trenches to indicate whether the wind was
favourable or not for a gas attack.--_Frederick Heath (Major), 1/13th
Batt. London Regt. (Kensingtons)._
'Erb's Consolation Prize
A narrow communication trench leading up to the front line; rain, mud,
shells, and everything else to make life hideous.
Enter the ration party, each man carrying something bulky besides his
rifle and kit.
One of the party, a Londoner known as 'Erb, is struggling with a huge
mail-bag, bumping and slipping and sliding, moaning and swearing,
when a voice from under a sack of bread pipes: "Never mind, 'Erb;
perhaps there's a postcard in it for you!"--_L. G. Austin (24th London
Regiment), 8 Almeida Street, Upper Street, Islington, N.1._
[Illustration: "Never mind, 'Erb, perhaps there's a postcard in it for
you!"]