It was the beginning of the spring offensive, 1918, and the 2nd Army
Gun School, Wisques, was empty, as the men had gone into the line. A
handful of Q.M.A.A.C. cooks were standing by.
I sent two little Cockney girls over to the instructors' château to
keep the fires up in case the men returned suddenly. I went to the camp
gate as an enemy bombing plane passed over. The girls had started back,
and were half-way across the field. The plane flew so low that the men
leaned over the side and jeered at us.
I held my breath as it passed the girls--would they shoot them in
passing? The girls did not hasten, but presently reached me with faces
as white as paper.
"Why didn't you run?" I said.
"Lor', mum," came the reply, "yer didn't think as 'ow we was a-goin'
ter run with them there Germans up there, did ye? Not much!"--_C. N.
(late U.A., Q.M.A.A.C.), Heathcroft, Hampstead Way, N.W._