After the first battle of Ypres an old driver, whom we called
"Krongie," had very bad feet, and one day reported sick at the
estaminet where the M.O. held office.
After the examination he ambled up the road, and when he was about 50
yards away the M.O.'s orderly ran out and called: "Krongie, when you
get to the column tell the farrier the M.O.'s horse has cast a shoe."
"Krongie": "Ho, yus. You tell 'im ter give the blinkin' cheval a couple
of number nines like he gave me for _my_ feet."--_P. Jones (R.H.A.), 6
Ennis Road, N.4._
My Sword Dance--by the C.O.
A bitterly cold morning in winter, 1916, in the Ypres Salient. I was on
duty at a gas alarm post in the front line when along came the colonel.
He was the finest soldier and gentleman I ever had the pleasure to
serve under (being an old soldier in two regiments before, I had
experienced a few C.O.s). It was said he knew every man's name in the
regiment. No officer dare start his own meal until every man of his
company had been served. No fatigue or working party ever went up the
line, no matter at what hour, without the colonel first inspected it.
He had a mania for collecting spare ammunition, and more than once
was seen taking up to the front line a roll of barbed wire over his
shoulder hooked through his stick. To him every man was a son, and to
the men's regret and officers' delight he soon became a general.
This particular morning he approached me with "Good morning, Walker.
You look cold. Had your rum?" To which I replied that I had, but it was
a cold job remaining stationary for hours watching the wind.
"Well," said the C.O., "do this with me." With that he started marking
time at a quick pace on the duckboards and I did likewise. We kept it
up for about two minutes, while others near had a good laugh.
"Now you feel better, I know. Do this every ten minutes or so," he
said, and away he went to continue his tour of inspection.
My Cockney pal in the next bay, who, I noticed, had enjoyed the scene
immensely, said, "Blimey, Jock, was he giving you a few lessons in
the sword dance or the Highland Fling?"--_"Jock" Walker (late Royal
Fusiliers), 29 Brockbank Road, Lewisham, S.E.13._