We were asleep in our dug-out at Bray, on the Somme, in November 1915.
The dug-out was cut in the bank of a field where our horse lines were.
One of the horses broke loose and, taking a fancy to our roof, which
was made of brushwood and rushes, started eating it.
Suddenly the roof gave way and the horse fell through, narrowly missing
myself and my pal, who was also a Cockney.
[Illustration: "They want to come to bed wiv us."]
After we had got over the shock my pal said, "Well, if that ain't the
blinkin' latest. These long-eared blighters ain't satisfied with us
looking after them--they want to come to bed with us."--_F. E. Snell
(late 27th Brigade, R.F.A.), 22 Woodchester Street, Harrow Road, W.2._
General Salute!
While "resting" at Bully-Grenay in the winter of 1916 I witnessed the
following incident:
Major-General ---- and his A.D.C. were walking through the village
when an elderly Cockney member of a Labour battalion (a typical London
navvy) stumbled out of an estaminet. He almost collided with the
general.
Quickly pulling himself together and exclaiming "Blimey, the boss!" he
gave a very non-military salute; but the general, tactfully ignoring
his merry condition, had passed on.
In spite of his pal's attempts to restrain him, he overtook the
general, shouting "I did serlute yer, didn't I, guv'nor?"