A dark cloudy night in front of Lens, two patrols of the 19th London
Regt., one led by Lieut. R----, the other by Corporal B----, were
crawling along the barbed wire entanglements in No Man's Land, towards
each other.
Two tin hats met with a clang, which at once drew the attention of
Fritz.
Lieut. R---- sat back in the mud, while snipers' and machine-gun
bullets whistled past, and in a cool voice said, "Why don't you
ring your perishing bell?"--_L. C. Pryke (late 19th London Regt.),
"Broughdale," Rochford Avenue, Rochford, Essex._
Scots, Read This!
On the afternoon of Christmas Day, 1915, three pipers, of whom I was
one, went into the trenches at Loos, and after playing at our Battalion
H.Q., proceeded to the front line, where we played some selections
for the benefit of the Germans, whose trenches were very close at
this point. Probably thinking that an attack was imminent, they sent
up innumerable Verey lights, but, deciding later that we had no such
intention, they responded by singing and playing on mouth-organs.
Having finished our performance, my friends and I proceeded on our way
back, and presently, passing some men of another regiment, were asked
by one of them: "Was that you playin' them bloomin' toobs?" We admitted
it.
"'Ear that, Joe?" he remarked to his pal. "These blokes 'ave bin givin'
the 'Uns a toon."
"Serve 'em right," said Joe, "they started the blinkin' war."--_Robert
Donald Marshall (late Piper, 1st Bn. London Scottish), 83 Cranley
Drive, Ilford._