One horribly wet day during the winter of 1915 I met the Brigadier
paying his morning visit to the front line and accompanied him along
my section of the trench. Entering one fire-bay, the gallant General
slipped and sat down uncommonly hard in the mud.
[Illustration: "'Ere, chum, get up; this ain't a skatin' rink."]
Discipline stifled any desire on my part for mirth, but to my horror,
the sentry in that bay, without turning away from his periscope, called
over his shoulder in unmistakable Cockney accents: "'Ere, chum, get up;
this ain't a blinkin' skatin' rink!"
Fortunately the General's sense of humour was equal to the occasion,
and he replied to the now horror-stricken sentry with an affable
"Quite."--_"Company Commander," Orpington, Kent._
"To Top Things Up"
During the early part of 1916 a few picked men from the North Sea Fleet
were sent on a short tour of the Western Front to get an accurate
idea of the work of the sister Service. One or two of these men were
attached to my company for a few days in January when we were at
Givenchy--a fairly lively spot at that time. The morning after their
arrival there was some pretty heavy firing and bombing, which soon died
down to normal.
Later in the day, as I was passing down the line, I asked one of our
guests (an out-and-out Londoner) what he thought of things. He shook
his head mournfully. "I thought the blighters was coming over after all
that gun-fire this morning, sir," he said. "I been in a naval action; I
been submarined; I been bombed by aeroplanes; and, blimey, I did 'ope
I'd be in a bay'nit charge, just to top things up."--_L. V. Upward
(late Capt. R.N.), 14 Lyndhurst Road, Hampstead, N.W.3._