Pushed and the return push

Pushed

The

AND

Return

Push

Pushed

AND

The Return Push

Q._UE X

William Blackwood and
Edinburgh and London
99

Sons

A'ILLiD IIV ACTIOIV ilT BiA USIiS
OIV OCTOBER ,0, 1918.

CONTENTS.

PUSHED.
I. BEFORE TH ATTACK
Il. «THE BOCHE IS THROUGH !!
IIL THi END OF A BATTERY
IV. THE NIGHT OF MARCH 2|
V. A GUNNERS V.C.
VI. BEH[ND VILLEQU[ER AUMONT .
VIL STILL IN RETREAT
VIII. A LAST FIFTY ROUNDS
IX. FASTER AND FASTER
X. THE SCR&MBLE AT VARESNES .
XI. THE G IN GAP
XII. OUT OF THE WAY

• 3
13
24
35
42
49
60
65
71
83
93
10!

THE RETURN PUSH.

I. THE DEFENCE OF AMIENS
•
II. THE RED-ROOFED YIOU8E
III. AN AUSTRALIAN « HAND-OVER"
IV. HAPPY DAY8 !
V. BEFORE THE GREAT ATTACK

111
119
! 29
137
146

viii CONTENTS

¥I. THE BATTLE OF AUGUST
VII. SHORT LEAVE TO PARI
¥1II. TRONES WOOD AGAIN
IX. DOWN THE ROAD TO COiBLF%
X. A MASTERLY TURNING MOVEMENT
XI. ON THE HEELS OF THE BOCHE
XII. THE MAJORES LOST PIPE
XIII. NURLU AND L[ERAMONT
XIV. THE FIGHT FOR RONSSOY
XV.  ERNEST  IS LOST
XVI. THE DECISIVE DAYS o
XVII. WITH THE AMERICANS .
XVIII. A LAST DAY AT THE O.P.
XIX. « THE COLONEL,"

15
163
178
188
"203
"211
221
227
243
"258
274
"283
303
3"26

PUSHED

I. BEFORE THE ATTACK.

BY means of a lorry lift from railhead, and a horse
borrowed from the Divisional Ammunition Column, I
round Brigade Headquarters in a village that the Germans
had occupied belote their retreat in the spriug of 1917.
Tho huge, red-faced, grey-haired adjurant, best of
ex-ranker officers, welcomed me on the farmhouse steps
with a hard handshake and a bellowing " Cheerio !"
folloved by, "Now that you're back, I can go on leave."
In the mess the colonel gave me kindly greeting, and
told me somethiug of the Brigade's ups and downs since
I had left France in August 1917, wounded at Zillebeke •
how all the old and well-tried battery commanders be-
came casualties before 1917 was out, but how, under
young, keen, and patiently selected leaders, the batteries
were working up towards real efficiency again. Then old
" Swiffy," the veterinary ofiïcer, came in, and the new
Americau doctor, who appeared armed with two copies
of the 'Saturday Evening Post.' It was all very pleas-
ant; and the feeling that men who had got to know
you properly in the filthy turmoil and strain of Flanders
were genuinely pleased to see you again, iroduced a
glow of real happiness. I had, of course, o go out and
inspect the adjutant's new chargera big rattling chest-
nut, conceded to hin by an A.S.C. major. A nystery
gift, if ever ihe'e was oue: for he was  handsome beast,

 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

and chargers are getting very rare in France. "They
say he bucks," explained the adjurant. "He'll go for
weeks as quiet as a lamb, and then put it across you
when :),ou don't expect it. I'm going to put him under
treatment."
"Where's my groom ?" he roared. Following which
there was elaborte preparation of a w, eighted saddle--
not up to the adjuant's 15 stone 5, but enough to make
the horse realise he was carrying something; then an
improvised lunging-rope was fashioned, and for twenty
minutes the new charger had fo do a circus trot and
canter, with the adjurant as a critical and hopeful
ringmaster. In the end the adjurant mounted and
rode off, shouting that he would be back in hall an
hour to report on the mystery horse's preliminary
behaviour.
Then the regimental sergeant-major manceuvred me
towards the horse lines to look at the newly made-up
telephone cart team.
" You remember the doctor's fat mare, sirthe
wheeler, you used to call her ? Well, she is a wheeler
now, and a splendid worker too. We got the hand-
wheeler from B Battery, and they make a perfect
pair. And you remember the little horse who strayed
into our lines at Thiepval' Punch' we used to call
him--as fat as butter, and didn't like his head touched ?
Vell, he's in the lead; and another bay, a twin to him,
that the adjurant got from the th Division. Changed
' Rabbits' for him. You remember ' Rabbits,' sir ?nice-
looking horse, but inclined to stumble. Ail bays now,
and hot a better-looking telephone team in France."
And then an anxious moment. Nearest the wall in
the shed which sheltered the ofiicers' horses stood my
own horse dear old Silvertail, always a gentleman

BEFORE THE ATTACK 5

among horses, but nmrked in his likes and dislikes.
Would he know me af ter my six mon ths' absence ?
The grey ears went back as I approached, but my
voice seemed to awake recognition. Before long a
silver-grey nose was nozzling in the old confiding way
from the fourth button towards the jacket pocket where
the biscuits used to be kept. All was well with the
world.
A rataplan on a side-drum feebly played in the street
outside !mthe village crier announeing that a ealf had
eommitted lmri-kari on one of the tlag--p«les put up to
warn horsemen that flmy lnustn't take short euts over
sown land. The aged crier, in the brown velveteen and
the stained white eorduroys, took a fresh breath and
went on to warn the half-dozen villagers who had
eome to their doorways that uprooting the red flags
would be in defianee of the express orders of Monsieur
le Maire (who owned many fields in the neighbourhood).
The veal resulting from the accident would be shared out
among the villagers that evening.
My eamp-bed was put up in a room oeeupied by the
adjutant; and during and after dinner there was nmeh
talk about the programme of intensive training with
whieh the Brigade was going to oeeupy itself while
out at test. For the morrow the colonel had arranged
a seheme--defenee and eounter-attaekwhieh meant
that skeleton batteries would have to be brought up
to upset and demolish the remorseless plans of an
imaginary German host; and there was diligent study-
ing of F.A.T. and the latest pamphlets on Battery Statt
Training, and other points of knowledge rusted by too
mueh treneh warfare.
It was exaetly 2 P.m on the morrow. We were
mounted and moving off to partieipate in this theo-

6 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

retical battle, when the "chug-chug-chug" of a motor-
cycle caused us to look towards the hill ai the end
of the village street: a despatch- rider, wearing the
blue-and-white hand of the Signal Service. The envelope
he drew from his leather wallet was marked " urgent."
"It's real war, gentlemen," said the colonel quietly,
having rend the contents; "we move at once. Corps
say that the enemy are massing for an attack."
Then he gave quick, very definite orders in the alert
confident manner so well known to all his oiiicers and
men.
"Send a cycle orderly to stop Fentiman bringing up
his teams! You can be ready to march by 3 1.. .,
Stone. Townsend, you'd better send off your groom to
warn your battery! Times and order of march will be
sent out by the adjutant within a quarter of an hour
One hundred yards' distance between every six vehicles
on the march! o motor-lorries for us this ri.me, so
all extra kit and things ),ou can't carry will have to
be dumped, and a guard left behind!"
A clatter of horsemen spreading the news followed.
I stood at the door of the village's one café and
watched two of our batteries pass. The good wo,nan
who kept it asked if I thought the Germans would
conm there again. "They took my husband with them
a prisoner when they went a year ago," she said slowly.
My trust in our srength as I had seen it six months
before helped ,ne to reassure her; but to change the
subject, I turned fo the penny-in-the-slot music machine
inside the biggest, most gaudily painted musical box l've
ever seen. " Did the Boches ever try this ? "I asked.
" 1o, only once," she replied, brightening. " They had
a mess in the next room, and never came in here."
"Well, l'll have a pen'orth for luck," said I, and

BEFORE THE ATTACK 7

avoiding " Norma" and "Poet and Peasant," moved
the pointer towards a chansonette, something about a
good time coming. Such a monstrous wheezing and
gurgling, such a deafening clang of cracked cymbals,
such a Puck-like concatenation of fiat notes and sudden
thuds that told of broken strings! And so much of it
for a ten-centime piece. When the tumult began a
third rime I ruade off'. :No wonder the Germans only
tried the instrument once!
By 8 P.M. we round ourselves in a sort of junction
village, its two main roads alive with long lines of
moving batteries and lorries and transport waggons.
Inky blackness everywhere, for the Hun bombed the
place nightly, and " :No lights " was a standing order.
Odd shouts and curses from drivers in difficulties with
their steeds; the continuous cry of "Keep to the
right!" from the military police; from a garden close
by, the howl of an abandoned dog; and from some
dilapidated house Cockney voices harmonising: " It's a
Long, Long Trail." There would be no moon that
night, and a moaning wind was rising.
A halt had been called in front of our column, and
there was talk of the batteries watering their horses
before completing the further three toiles to their
roadside encampments. The Headquarters party had
resigned themselves to a good hour's wait, when I
heard the adjutant's voice calling my name.
"Headquarters will go up to Rouez to-night, and we
shall mess with the General," he shouted at me from out
of the darkness. "Traffic isn't supposed to go this way
to the right; but you come with me, and we'll talk to
the A.P, at the Corps Commandant's office. They ought
to let out little lot through."
Headquarters mess cart and G.S. waggon, Maltese

8 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

cart and telephone waggon did indeed get through,
and by 9.15 P.M. the horses were watered and fed,
the men housed, and we ourselves were at dinner in
the cottage that had become Divisional R.A. Head-
quarters.
"A cheerful dinner wih plenty of talk. It wasn't
be]ieved now that the Hun wou]d attack next morn-
ing; but, in any case, we were going up to relieve a
R.H.A. Unit. The brigade-major was very comforting
about the conveniences of our new positions. Then
some one carried the conversation away and beyond,
and, quoting an " Ole Luk-Oie " story, submitted that the
higher realms of generalship should include the closer
study of the personal history and characteristics--
mental and moral--of enemy commanders. Some one
else noted that the supposed speciality of the General
immediately opposite us was that of making tierce
attacks across impassable marshes. "Good," put in a
third some one. "Let's puzzle the German staff by
persuading him that we have an Etonian General in
this part of the line, a very ce]ebrated 'wet-bob.' "
Which sprightly suggestion ruade the Brigadier-General
smile. But it was my good fortune to go one better.
I had to partner him at bridge, and brought off a grand
slam.
Next morning snow; and the colonel, the adjutant,
and myself had a seven-miles' ride before us. The
Germans had not attacked, but the general move-up
of fresh divisions was continuing, and our brigade had
to take over the part of the line we were told off to
defend by 5 P.M.
All the talk on the way up was of the beautiful
quietude of the area we were riding through : no weed-
choked houses with the windows all blown in; no sound

BEFORE THE ATTACK 9

of guns, no line of filled-up ambulances; few ]orties on
the main thoroughfares; only the khaki-clad road-
repairers and the " Gas Alert" notice-boa.rds to remind
us we were in a British area. As we reached the quarry
that was to become Brigade Headquarters, we marvelled
still more. A veritable quarry de l«xe. A mess
fashioned out of stone-blocks hewn from the quarry,
perfectly cut and perfectly laid. Six-inch girders to
supl)ort the concrete roof, and an underground passage
as a funk-hole from bombs, shells, and gas. Separate
strong-room bedrooms for the officers; and some one had
had time to paint on the doors, " O.C., I.]'.A. Brigade,"
" Adjutant," " Intelligence Oflcer, R.F.A.," and "Signal
Oiiicer, R.F.A.," with proper professional skill. Electric
light laid on to all these quarters, and to the Brigade
°oE '
office and the s¢nallers underground chamber. Aladdin
didn't enjoy a more gorgeous eye-opener on his first tour
of his palace.
"Never seen such headquarters," grinned the adjutant.
" Wonder why there's no place for the Divisional Band."
I shall never forger the content of the next week.
The way from Brigade H.Q., past the batteries and up
to the front line, was over a wide rolling country of
ploughed and fallow lands, of the first wild flowers, of
budding hedgerows, of woods in which birds lilted their
spring songs. The atmosphere was fresh and redolent
of clean earth; odd she!l-holes you came across were,
miracle of miracles, grass-grown--a sight for eyes tired
with the drab stinking desolation of Flanders. A more
than spring warmth quickened growing things. White
tendrils of fluff floated strangely in the air, and spread
thousands of soft clinging threads over telephone-wires,
tree-tops, and across mlles of growing fields--the curious
output of myriads of spinning-spiders. There were

10 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN I'USH

quaitly restful visits to the front line. The toche
was a mlle away at least; and when you were weary
of staring through binoculars, trying to spot enemy
movement, you could sit and lounge, and hum the rag-
b
rime "Wait and See the Ducks go y, with a new and
very thorough meaning. The signal ofiïcer was away
doing a course, and I took on his duties" plenty of long
walks and a good deal of labelling to do, but the task was
hot onerous. " We've only had one wire down through
shell-fire since we've been here," the signalling officer
of the outgoing brigade had told me" and indeed, until
March 21, the telephone-wires to batteries and " O.P.'s"
remailed as undisturbed as if they had skirted Devonshire
ficlds and lanes. The colonel was quite happy, spending
two or three hours a day at O.P.'s, watching out guns
register, or do a bit of sniping on the very very rare
occasions when a Hun was spotted.
"I can see how the subalterns shoot on a big open
° O '
front like this--and teach them somethm, he said.
" This is an admirable part of the line for instruction
purposes."
Whether the Boche would attack in force on our part
of the front was argued upon and considered from every
point of view. There were certain natural features that
ruade such an attempt exceedingly improbable. Never-
theless infantry and artillery kept hard at it, strengthen-
ing our means of defence. One day I did a tour with
the machine-gun commander in order to know the exact
whereabouts of the machine-gun posts. They were
superlatively well hidden, and the major-general himself
had to laugh when one battalion commander, saying,
"There's one just about here, sir," was startled by a
corporal's voice near his very boot-toes calling out, "Yes,
sir, it's here, sir." Gunners had the rare experience of

BEFORE THE ATTACK 11

circling their battery positions with barbed wire, and
siting machine-guns for hand-to-hand protection of the
18 prs. and 4"5 hows.; and special instruction in
musketry and Lewis-gnu manipulation was given by
infantry instructors. There was menmrable jubilation
one morning at our Brigade Headquarters, when one of
the orderlies, a Manchester man who fired with his left
hand, and held the riile-butt to his left shoulder, beat the
infant'y crack shot who came to instruct the H.Q. staff.
Camouflaging is now, of course, a studied science, and
our colonel, who issued special guiding notes to his
batteries, had a few sharp words to say one afternoon.
The British soldier, old and new, is always happy when
he is demolishing something; and a sergeant sent to
prep«tre a pif for a forward gun had collected wood and
corrugated iron for it by pulling to pieces a near-by
dummy gun, placed specially to draw enemy tire. " Bad
as some Pioneers [ noticed yesterday," said the colonel
tersely. "They shifted a couple of trees to a place
where there had been no rees before and thought that
that was camouflage."
Happy confident days! The dootor, noting the
ahnost summery heat that had set in, talked of the
mosquito headquarters that would develop in the pond
near out quarry. " l'll oil that pond," he gave forth,
and prepared accordingly. Each mail brought him
additional copies of the ' Saturday Evening Post,' which
he devoured every moment he was off duty.
I made the joyful discovery that the thick stone
blocks kept the mess so dry and at such an even
temperature that the hundred decent-quality cigars I
had brought from England could be kept in condition as
perfect as i they were at the Stores. The adjutant
learnt that his new steed could indeed buck; but as the

1.2 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

afternoon which saw him take  toss preceded the day
on which he left for leave to England, he forgot to be
furious, and went off promising to bring back all sorts of
things for the mess.
O ur companion infantry battalion were as gorgeously
housed as ourselves in an adjoining quarry, and at the
dinner parties arranged between their mess and ours
reminiscences of Thiepval ard Schwaben ledoubt, and
July 1st, 1916, and St Pierre Divion and the Hindenburg
Line, brought out many a new and many an old story.
On the night of March 19th out chier guest was the
youthful lieutenant-colonel who a very few weeks before
had succeeded to the conmmnd of the Tall, pro-
perly handsome, with his crisp curling hair and his chin
that was firm but hot markedly so; eyes that were re-
flective rather than compelling; earnest to the point of
an absorbed seriousness--we did right to note him well.
tIe was destined to win great glory in the vortex of
flame and smoke and agony and panic into which we
were to be swept within the next thirty-six hours. My
chief recollection of him that night was of his careful
attentivenes to everything said by our own colonel on
the science of present-day war--the understanding
deference paid by a splendid young leader to the know-
ledge and grasp and fine character of a very complete
gunner.

13

II. "THE BOCHE IS THROUGH!"

Aw 5.10 '.M. on Match 20 I was in tle mess,'casting an
appraising eye upon the coloured study of a girl in pink
--dark-haired, hazel-eyed, très soignde, but not too sophis-
ticated, one would say; her beauty of the kind that
glows and tells of abundant vitality and a fresh happy
mind. The little American doctor had sacriticed the
cover of one of his beloved ' Saturday Evening Posts' for
this portrait, and with extreme neatness had scissored it
out and fastened it on the wall--a pleasant change from
the cocaine and chocolate-box suggestiveness of the
languorous Kirchner type that in 1916 and l 917 lent
a pinchbeck Montmartre atnlosphere fo so nmny English
messes in France and Flanders.
The day had been hot and peaccful, the only sound of
gun-fire a six-inch how. registering, and, during a morn-
ing tour with the second lieutenant who had corne from
one of the batteries to act as temporary signalling otïicer,
I remembered noting again a weather-beaten civilian
boot and a decayed bowler hat that for weeks had lain
neglected and undisturbed in one of the rough tracks
leading to the front line--typical of the unchanging
restfulness of this part of the front.
Suddenly the door opened, fo adroit Colonel--,
C.O. of the Infantry Battalion who were our near neigh-
bours in the quarry.

14 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

"Have you had the 'PREI'ARE FOR ATTACK' ?" ho
asked abruptly as we held ourselves to attcntion.
"No, sir," I replied, and moved to the telephone fo
ring up Divisional Artillery Headquarters.
"Just corne in," he said; and even as I asked ex-
change to put me through to " D.A.," the brigade clerk
came in with the telephoned warning that we had talked
about, expected, or refised to believe in ever since the
alarm order to move into the line a fortnight belote.
The formal intimation was sent by wire to the batteries,
and I telephoned to find which battery the colonel was
visiting and gave him the news, which, according to our
precise and well-thought-out scheme of defence, was a
preliminary warning not intended to interfere with any
work in hand.
Then the doctor and myself and the Divisional Artil-
lery gas ofiïcer, who had called in while on an inspecting
tour, settled down to tea, jam, and water-cress.
That night our dinner guest was the former captain
of our 4"5 how. battery, now in command of a heavy
battery that had corne into action within a quarter of a
toile of out II.Q. The " MAI tATTLE POS1TIOS," the
order succeeding " PREe_RE IOR ATTACK " in the defence
programme, was hot expected that night, and we gossiped
and talked war and new gunnery devices much as usual.
1o story goes so well at mess as the account of some
fatuous muddle brought about by the administrative
bewilderments that are apparently inevitable in the
monster armies of to-day. This was one told with quiet
relish by our guest that night :--
"You rcmember the show ?" he said. "A lot
of stores were, of course, lost in the scramble; and, soon
after I joined my present battery, 1 had to sit on an
inquiry into the mysterious loss of six waggons belong-

"THE ]3OCHE IS THROUGH!" 15

ing to a 60-pounder battery. Two courts of inquiry
had already sat on the mater, and failed to trace the
whereabouts of the waggons, which had been reported in
all sorts of places. At the third inquiry a witness stated
that the last place the waggons were seen at before
getting lost was such and such a place. A member of
the court asked casually whether any one had since
visited the spot; and as it was near lunch-rime some
one else suggested that the court adjourn while an officer
motor-cycled over and ruade inquiries. And I'm hanged,"
concluded the teller of the story, "if the ofiïcer didn't
corne back and report that the waggons were still there,
had been there all the time, and were in good condition
and under a guard. Piles of official correspondence had
been written over the matter, and the investigation had
drifted through all sorts of channels."
hlidnight: I had sent out the night-firing orders to
our four batteries, checked watches over the telephone,
and put in a twenty minutes' wrestle with the brain-
racking Army Form B. 213. The doctor and signalling
officer had slipped away to bed, and the colonel was
writing his nightly letter home. I smoked a final
cigarette and turned in at 12.30 A.M.
3.30 A.M. : The telephone bell above my head was
tinkling. I was the brlgade-major's voice that spoke.
"Will you put your batteries on some extra bursts of
tire between 3.45 and 4.10at places where the enemy,
if they are going to attack, are likely to be forming up ?
Right !that gives you a quarter of an hour to arrange
with the batteries. Good-night!"
My marked map with registered targets for the various
batteries was by the bedside, and I was able, without
getting up, to carry out the brigade-major's instructions.
One battery was slow in answering, and as time began

16 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

to press I complained with sonne force, when the captain
--his battery commander was away on a course--at last
got on the telephone. Poor Dawson. tIe was very
apologetic. I never spoke to him again, tIe was a dead
man within nine hours.
] suppose I had been asleep again about twenty
minutes when a rolling boom, the scream of approaching
shells, and regular cracking bursts to right and left woke
me up. ow and again one heard the swish and the
"plop" of gas-shells. A hostile bombardment, without
a doubt. I looked at my watch--4.33 A..
It was hours afterwards before I realised that this
was the opening bombardment of perhaps the mightiest,
most ovcrpowering assault in military history. Had not
the " I)REPARE /dOR ATTAC " warning corne in I should
have been in pyjmnas, and might possibly have lain in
bed for two or three minutes, listening quietly and com-
fortably while estimating the extent and intensity of the
barrage. But this occasion was different, and I was up
and about a couple of minutes afer waking. Opening
my door, I encountered the hot unpleasant smell of
lachrymatory gas. The Infantry ]3attalion headquarters'
staff were already moving out of the quarry to their
forward station. By 4.40 A.. our colonel had talked
over the telephone with two of the battery comnanders.
Their reports were quite optimistic. "A Battery were
wise in shifting from their old position three days ago,"
he remarked cheerfully. "The old position is getting a
lot of shelling; there's nothing falling where they are
now. Lots of gas-shelling apparently. It's lucky the
batteries had that daily drill serving the guns with
gas-masks on."
The doctor and the acting signal officer came into the
mess from their quarters farther along the quarry.

"THE BOCHE 1S THROUGH!" 17

"If this gas-shelling goes on, I guess we shall all have
to have lessons in the deaï-and-dumb talk," puffed the
doctor, pulling off his gas hehnet. "Keep that do.or
closed !"
"D Battery's line gone, sir," rang up the sergeant-
signaller. "M'Quillan and Black have gone out on it."
"Keep Corporal Mann and Sapper Winter on the
telephone board to-day," I advised Bliss, the youngster
who had corne to headquarters the day beïore to do
signal oItàcer. "The colonel will be doing a lot of tcle-
phoning, and they know his methods. Bo sure to keep
ail the Scotsmen off the board. Ïhe colonel says Scots-
men ought never tobe allowed tobe telephonists. Im-
possible to understand what they say."
By 5 A.M. one of the two otficers who overnight had
manned the forward O.P.'s had spoken to us. Ho was
2000 yards in front of the nmst forward battery, but a
still small voice sounded confident and cheery, "A ïew
shells have dropped to the right of the O.P., but there's
no sign of any inïantry attack," was his message. We
heard nothing more of him until six weeks afterwards,
when his uncle wrote and told the colonel ho was safe,
but a prisoner in Germany.
5.15 ..- The cook was handing round early morning
tea. D Battery were flrough again, and we learned
that a sergeant had been killed and one gunner wounded
by a 4"2 that had pitched on the edge of the gun-pit.
Two other batteries were cut off front headquarters;
however, we gathered from he battery connected by the
buried cable--that a week before had kept 500 men
busy digging for three daysthat, as far as they could
see, all our batteries were shooting merrily and according
go progranme.
By 6 A.. the Brigadier-General, C.R.A., had told the
B

18 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

colonel that the situation to left and right was the saine
as on our immediate front" enemy bombardment very
heavy and continuing, but no infantry attack. "We'll
shave and bave breakfast," the colonel said. "Looks as
if the actual attack must be farther north."
]3y 8 .¢.M. the shelling near us had died down. It was
going fo be a lovely spring day, but there was a curiously
heavy, clinging mist. " Want to bc careful of the gas
shell-holes when the sun warms up," said the doctor.
Fresh ammunition was coming up from the waggon
lines, and our guns continued to tire on arranged targets.
The only additional casualty was that of an officer of
A ]3attery, who had had a piece of his car chipped off
by a splinter, and had gone to a dressing station. The
news from ]3 ]3attery aroused much more interest. An
8-inch shell had landed right on top of their dug-out
mess. No one was inside at the rime, but three officers,
who were wont fo sleep there, had had every article of
kit destroyed. One subaltern who, in spite of the I%E-
PARE FOR ATT.CK notification, had put on pyjamas, was
left with exactly what he stood up in--viz., pyjamas,
tritish warm, and gum-boots.
11 t.M.-The colonel had spoken more than once
about the latest situation to the brigade-major of the
Infantry ]3rigade we were covering, and to our own
brigade-major. The staff captain had rung me up about
the return of dirty underclothing of men visiting the
Divisional Baths; there was a base paymaster's query
regarding the Imprest Account which I had answered;
a batch of Corps and Divisional routine orders had corne
in, notifying the next visits of the field cashier, em-
phasising the need for saving dripping, and demanding
information as to the alleged damage donc to the bark
of certain trees by our more frolicsome horses. Another

"TtIE BOCHE IS THROUGH!" 19

otlïcial envelope I opened showed that Records were
worrying whether a particular regimental sergeant-
major was an acting or a temporary sergeant-major.
The doctor and the signalliug ofticer had gone forward
to visit the batteries. Hostile shelling seemed to have
died out. The mist was denser than ever--a weather
phenomenon that continued fo puzzle.
The telephone bell tinkled again; the colonel turned
from the big map-board on the wall and took up the
receiver. " Col. speaking !wYes !--Have they ?
--Sorry to hear that !--Umph !--1go! no signs of an
attack on our front. Let me know any further develop-
ments--Good-bye !"
He looked towards me and said briefiy, "The ]3oche
infantry have got over on our left! Came through
the mist! I'm afraid the --rd (our companion Field
Artillery Brigade) have caught it badly. Two of their
batteries have lost all their guns. Get me the brigade-
major of the Brigade "--turning to the telephone
again.
He told the brigade-major of the Infantry we were
covering the news of the break on the left. No, our
infantry had not yet been attacked; but up in the
front it was difficult to see anything in the mist.
The colonel studied his wall-raap with intentness, and
put a forefinger on the --rd Brigade gun positions.
" If he's through there we can expect him in (nam-
ing a village of great strategical importance) in a couple
of hours."
A runner came in from C Battery, with whom we had
had no communication for nearly two hours. The Huns
seemed to know their position, and had put over a
regular fusilade of 4"2's and 5"9's and gas-shells. The
duck-board running outside the dug-outs behind the

20 IUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

guns had had six direct hits, and two of the dug-outs
were blown in, also No. 2 gun had had its off-wheel
smashed by a splinter; two men rathor badly
wounded.
For an hour there was no further news, and, assisted
by my two clerks, 1 proceeded peacefully with the
ordinary routine work of the adjutant's department.
The doctor came back and said that A Battery were all
right, but could not get communication with their F.O.O.,
not even by lamp. The 8-inch shell had ruade very
short work of B Battery's mess. " Poor old Drake,"
went on the doctor, "he'd got a new pair of cavalry
twill breeches, cost him £5, 10s., and he'd never even
worn them. They came by parcel yesterday, and the
fools at the waggon line sent them up last night."
Bliss, he added, had stayed with ]3 Battery, and was
trying to get the line through between A and ]3, so
that Headquarters could speak to A.
I strolled over to the other side of the quarry where
the colonel's, the doctor's, and my horses were under
cover, and round they had not been troubled by the
gas. The men were at dinner; we were to lunch
at 1.15 P.[.
12.40 P..-The colonel was again speaking to the
Infantry brigade-major. Still no signs of the German
infantry in our front line.
Then in one swift moment the whole situation
changed. A sweating, staggering gunner blundered into
the doorway, tic ruade no pretence at saluting, but
called out with all his strength: "The Boche is
through."
" Who is that man ?" demanded the colonel, whipping
round hke lightning, and frowning. " Bring him here!
Who do you belong o ?"

"THE BOCHE IS THROUGH !" 21

The man had calmed; but before he could eply there
was another interruption. A strained voice outside
shouted," Is the colonel there ? Is the adjutant there ?"
Hurrying through the doorway, I saw a tall, perspiring,
hat]ess young subaltern, cursing because he had got
entangled in the guy-ropes of some camouflage netting
posts. It was Hetherton of C P, attery.
The colonel came outsde. "The Huns came on us
in the mist, sir," panted Hetherton, " out of the wood.
They've killed Dawson, sir." ttis voice broke---"and
some of the others. There were only four of us got
away. I came on to tell you." He stopped and
breathed hard.
The colonel looked stern, but his voice was smooth
and collected. " That's ail right," he said, almost sooth-
ingly. "You cut off with your party and report to
the retiring position."
The young man looked dazed, but saluted, and was
moving off when the colonel caught him by the arm.
"Corne and have a drink, Hetherton, belote going on,"
he said; "it'll do you good."
":No, thank you, sir," replied Hetherton, and this rime
he saluted with body as erect and arm as taut as if on
parade. I another second he had vanished.
There was tense silence as the colonel seized the
telephone.
"Put me through to B Battery," he said. Turning
towards me, he added- "Turn out all the men not
on telephone duty to take post on the top of the
quarry.
I slipped out and passed the order to the sergeant in
charge of the signallers, roused up the servants, and saw
that each man had his rifle.
"Now, Duncombe," I said to the left-handed orderly

22 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

who had beaten the infantry crack shot a few days
before, "you may have a chance to see if your eye is
in to-day."
When I got back to the mess, I learned that the
infantry had news that the Boche was coming over the
crest towards our battle positions. The major com-
manding B Battery had told the colonel that bis battery
and A had the enemy in full view, and were firing with
open sights. "We are killing hundreds of 'em, sir," he
had reported with delightful insouciance.
One sharp outburst from the colonel. As he came
outside to see if our twenty-odd men were placed in
the best positions for defending the quarry, he looked
across and noted that the officers' chargers were saddled
up, and that the grooms were leading them on to the
road above.
"Stop those horses !" he called out angrily. "Who
gave orders for them to leave ? tIave my horses un-
saddled at once. There's always some damn fellow who
does a stupid thing like that and purs the wind up
people."
The situation was really saved by the adjutant's new
charger, which, startled by an overcoat the groom had
fiung over him, began the best exhibition of bucking he
had given since he joined us. As he was in the lead,
and access to the road was by a narrow closed-in track,
no one could get by him.
The grooms in a shamefaced way protested that some
one had passed the " Saddle-up" order, and had a few
hectic stinging words addressed to them. Apparently
 mounted orderly, galloping past with a message, had
shouted out something about the enemy being close
behind.

"THE BOCHE IS THROUGH !" 23

The incident being closed, the colonel and myself
strapped on belts and revolvers. The colonel glanced
swiftly at the map position of the battery that the
approaching Huns had scuppered, and then said
quickly--
"Whatever happens, we shall have time for some-
thing to eat. Tell Manning to bring in lunch."

III. THE END OF A BATTERY.

Wg none of us exact]y enjoyed that lunch. It was a
nice lunch, too: the steak eut rhin, like steak à la
qninute, and hot overdone, with crisp onion sprigs--
"bristled onions" the cook always called them; and,
wonder of wonders! a pudding ruade by cribbing our
bread allowance, with plum jam and a few strips of
macaroni to spice it up. But the thought that the
Boche had scuppered C Battery hot a thousand yards
away, and was coming on, did hot inprove the appe-
tire. And news of what was really happening was so
scant and so indefinite! The colonel commented once
on the tenderness of the steak, and then looked thought-
ful; the doctor renmined dumb; for myself, I felt
keyed up to the state that seems to clear the mind
and to make one doubly alert in execution, but my
hand did perhaps shake a trifle, and I drank two
whiskies instead of my usual one. I thought of one or
two things I ought to have donc and had left undone.
I remember feeling distinctly annoyed because a par-
ticular hair lotion on its way from England might not
be delivered. I made sure that a certain discoloured
Edward and Alexandra Coronation medal--given me
for luck- was secure in my pocket-book, and stuffed
my breast-pockets with all the cigars they would
hold.

THE EID OF A BATTERY 25

Lunch was finished in about eight minutes, and the
imperturbable Manning cleared away.
"What about these Defence File papers and the
maps on the wall, sir?" I asked the colonel, my
mind harking back to newspaper accounts of German
strategic documents captured by us in some of our
advances.
"Tear them up and put them on the tire. We won't
destroy this map "--pointing to a neat and graphic piece
of coloured draughts2nanship showing infantry and artil-
lery dispositions--" until we have to."
I got to work, and the tire crackled joyously. "Don't
say we shall have to leave these to the Hun, doctor!"
I said in shocked tones, picking up four copies of his
adored ' Saturday Evening Post.'
The doctor smiled vaguely, but answered nothing.
Hostile shelling had ceased in our neighbourhood. The
sound our ears waited for was the " putt--puttr--putt"
of machine-guns, always the indication of a near infantry
attack. I went out and ruade sure that the look-outs
at both ends of the quarry were doing their work, and
round our little Headquarters army, twenty-five men
told, quiet and steady, and ready for the moment, should
it corne.
Half an hour slipped by. We spoke on the telephone
to D Battery, who were on high ground..xN°, they could
see no wave of German infantry approaching; but
Bullivant, B Battery's major, who for the rime being
was commanding C Battery's rear uncaptured guns as
well as his own rear and forward 18-pounders, said Huns
were coming up en masse from the south-west. "My guns
are firing at them, and A's forward guns are shootin'
as well," he went on. ":Nol I have seen nothing of
our infantry, but observation is still bad; pockets of

26 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

mist still about. About Bliss" (the signalling officer
who had gone out in the morning and hot re-
turned). "Oh! he stayed some time at our forward
position and then said he was going to get over
to A Battery to see why they were cut off from
communication. A lot of 4"2's were coming over at
the rime, and there were snipers about. He had to
duck three or four times on the way and then dis-
appeared from view."
I)umble, captain of A Battery, who had corne up from
the waggon line, dropped in and hurried off, saying he
was going forward to see if he could get anywhere near
the Battery.
3 P.M." 1O further developments. "I'm going over
to see General --," announced the colonel, naming the
brigadier-general commanding the Iafantry Brigade we
were covering.
Five minutes later the adjurant of an infantry bat-
talion on our left rang through and told me that large
numbers of Germans were over the crest and advancing
towards what the map showed me was our A Battery's
forward positions. I put A Battery's rear position
guns to tire on them by the map, and guessed that
the Battery's forward guns would be hard at it al-
ready.
The colonel came back from the Infantry Brigade,
quiet and self-possessed as ever. "Defence in depth
means forces more scattered, and greater difficulty in
keeping up communication," he remarked, taking a chair
and lighting a cigarette. "As far as can be gathered,
the situation is this- The Boche got through in force on
our left and the--th I)ivision gave way. That bared
our own I)ivision's left flank, and is the reason why the
--rd Brigade had such a bad time and lost so many

THE END OF A BATTERY 27

guns. The enemy is till coming on; and he's doing
too well, also against the--th Division on our right.
Our own 1)eol)le sa), he has worked 1)ast their outposts,
but that so far as is known they are holding out. The
main battle 1)ositions are still sale, and a counter-attack
is being arranged. No news at all of what is happening
farther north !" This was the longest speech the colonel
ruade on that 21st of March.
4 P.M." I telel)honed to the regimental sergeant-major
and told him to corne up with the mess cart and the G.S.
waggon for remaining kit, and ordered the servants to
1)ack up. Twenty minutes later Durable returned, dusty
and disl)irited.
"Vell, Durable, what news ? " inquired the colonel
quickly.
"I couldn't get to the Battery, sir--the enemy are
round it, between it and our infantry," began Durable
in cut-u 1) tones.
" The nearest I got was in a trench held by the 7th
Vestshires. An ofiicer told me that an advanced party
of the enemy came over the crest about 12.30. They
fired Very lights in response to a Hun contact plane that
flew towards the switch-trench leading N.E. towards the
battery. By 2 o'clock more enemy infantry were coming
from the south, al)l)arently to join up with the advanced
party who had sat tight. Both A and B ]3atteries fired
on this new body, and they seemed to me dispersed.
But by half-1)ast three, while I was there, Germans in
small parties were crawling throtgh the wire in front of
A Battery, and getting into our trenches."
He 1)aused and wil»ed his streaming face with his
handkerchief.
"What were our infantry doing ?" the colonel in-
terrogated.

28 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

"There were only small parties of them, sir, and very
scattered," went on Durable. "The otïicer and myself,
with a dozen men, got along a trench to within thirty
yards of some Huns and fired on them. But another
party, from almost behind us, came along and bombed us
back. We had two killed and brought one wounded
man back with us. Another lot came up on our left
and we had to move farther back."
"Was the battery still firing when you came away ?"
demanded the colonel.
"Yes, sir, firing well, but mostly on fresh parties of
Boche eight hundred yards away."
A knock ai the door, and the entrance of a quick-eyed
dapper bombardier from the very battery talked of
prevented Durable continuing.
"From Major Harville, sir," he said, saluting.
Just a slip from an Army Book 136, in Harville's
neat cramped handwriting. And the message itself was
formal enough" a plain bald statement of a situation
that contained heroism, drama, a fight against odds--
despair, probably, were the truth known; but despair
crowned with the halo of glory and self-sacrifice. The
message ran--
" I have fired 2200 rounds, and have only 200
rounds left. My S.A.A. for Lewis guns and rifles
is also running short. Can more ammunition be
sent up immediately, please ?
"The enemy has got through the wire in front
of the battery, and is now on two sides of us. If
the infantry can assist we can hold out until dark,
when I will retire to rear position."
The note was timed 3.40 e.. It was now 4.30
The colonel was never more collected or more rapid

THE END OF A BATTERY 29

|
in acting than at this moment. In two minutes he had
spoken to the Infantry brigadier, and asked whether im-
mediate assistance could not be sent. Then he wrote
this note fo Major Harville--

"Your message timed 3.40 P.m received af
4.30 P.M.
" Hold on : you are doing splendidly, and counter-
attacks are being organised.
"Teams with limbers to withdraw your guns fo
rear position by 8 P.M. are being sent for."

" [ hope the counter-attack is in time," he said to me
with a certain sad thoughtfulness before handing the note
to the bombardier. "Do you think you can get back to
the battery, bombardier?" he added. " I'm afraid you'll
find more ]oche there now."
"l'll try, sir," replied the bombardier stoutly.
" Off you go then, but be careful !"
In the peiod of waiting that followed we seemed to
have forgotten that three hours ago we were expecting
every minute to have fo turn out and face the toche
with rifie and revolver. Save for the colonel and two
or three of the signallers and a couple of servants, non
of us were experienced soldiers; all our previous experi-
ence had been in attack; if was something new this
feeling that a powerful, energetic, dctermined foe was
beating down out opposition and getting nearer and
nearer. Yet, whatever they may have felt, hot one of
out little hand showed signs of depression or nervous
excitement. The signalling-sergeant was cursing the
sanitary orderly for hot having cleared up a particular
litter of tins and empty cigarette packets; the oflicers'
cook was peeling potatoes for dinner, and I heard the

30 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

old wheeler singing softly to himself some stupid, old-
rime, music-hall ditty.
In the mess no one spoke a word, but each of us knew
that our one thought was whether A battery would be
able to hold out.
5.30 P.M. : The answer, a grim and saddening one.
A sergeant came hurrying in.
"They've captured the battery, sir," he said bluntly,
"and Major Harville is killed. I came to report, sir.
,,
I was the only one to get-away.
I think sometimes of famous cases of tragedy and
passion I have heard unfolded at the Old Bailey and the
Law Courts, and the intense, ahnost theatrical atmos-
phere surrounding them, and compare it to the simple
setting of this story, told in matter-of-fact tones by a
sergeant standing to attention. "We finished all our
ammunition, sir," he began, addressing the colonel, "and
took out rifles. Major Harville was shot by a machine-
gun while he was detailing us to defend the two gun-pits
farthest from the place where the enemy had got past
our wire. He fell into my gun-pit, sir, shot in the head.
Mr Dawes, who took command, said we would keep on
with rifles, and Bombardier Clidstone was doing fine
work with his Lewis gun. The Huns didn't seem in-
clined to corne close, and after a conference in my gun-
pit with M:r Bliss, Mr Dawes asked for a volunteer to
try and find the nearest infantry, and to tell them we'd
hold on if they could engage the enemy and prevent him
rushing us. I said I would try, and crawled on my
belly, sir, through the grass to an empty trench. The
battery fired several fine volleys; I heard them for a
long rime. It was slow work crawlbg away without
being seen, and when I had got 600 yards and was try-
ing Lo get my bearing--I don't know what rime it was.

THE END OF A BATTERY 31

"Then I noticed that no firing came from the battery.
There was no sound at all for over ten minutes. Then
about a hundred Germans rushed forward and started
bombing the gun-pits, and some of out men came up. I
saw about a dozen of them marched off as prisoners."
"¥ou are quite sure Major Harville was killcd ?"
asked the colonel quietly.
"Yes, sir; he fell right in my gun-pit."
We all stood silent, looking on the ground, l'oor
Harville The phrase that kept running in my mind
was, " One of the best," but with a diItirent meaning to
that in which generally it is use& A gallant upright
soul. The very best type of the civilian soldier who
fought this war for England. Before the war a pro-
fessional man who had given no thought to fighting-
when he became a soldier it was because he understood
thoroughly, and believed in,completely, all that for which
he was ready to give his life.
A clean-living, truly religious man too, who loathed
loose talk and swearing, and lived up to his ideals even
amid the slime and filth of war. And his bravery was
that of the honest man who fears and yet faces danger,
not the bull-headed heroism of the " man who knows no
fear." Poor Harville !
The sergeant spoke again.
" Before I came back here, sir, af ter the enemy had
marched off our men, B ]3attery turned their guns on
the Germans in A Battery'g position."
"Did they ?" said the colonel, his face lighting up.
"Sp]endid !"
"Yes, sir; they fired well, a hundred rounds, I should
think. They scattered all the Germans, sir: they ran
like mad."
We had given up hope of ever hearing again of the

32 PUSHED, AND TItE RETURN PUSIt

two sniping guns sited just behind the original front line,
C's 18-pdr. and D's 4"5 how. They were ai least 2000
yards in front of the ill-fated A Battery, and must have
been captured. What was our surprise then to note the
arrival, ata slow easy walk, of the sergeant of D Battery
who had been in charge of the 4-5 howitzer. He reported
that the detachments had corne away safely ai 5.45 l'.M.,
and belote doing so had "spiked" both guns, and so left
their enemy useless booty. It was such an orderly accourir
of action, taken strictly according to drill-book procedure,
that I have pieced it together in this form :--

2.30 ,¢.M. A few shells falling.
4.30 ,¢.M. Intense hostile bombardment begun. Officer
at O.P. ordered detachments to man guns.
4.32 A.M. Fired on two targets on orders from O.P.
qoon. Colnmunication with 0.1 . broke down.
12.30 l'.M. Attempt to mend O.P. wire failed, as it was
too badly cut by shell tire.
1 P.M. The sergeant of D Battery went away to try and
discover the situation and to obtain orders.
2 P.M. The sergeant round the men in neighbourhood of
O.P. Otficer obviously killed or a prisoner. Enemy
troops also along road leading to battery positions
where ofiïcers could be round. Returned to "snip-
ing" howitzer.
4.30 P.. The sergeant then endeavoured to get in touch
with the infantry, and to obtain orders from them.
tte round none of out own infantry, but  machine-
gun officer directed him to hold on as long as he
could. He returned again, and discovering Germans
close to the iS-pdr, and the 4"5 howitzer, ordered the
detachments to open tire on them with rifles. The
enemy were dispersed after ten nfinutes' shooting.

THE END OF A BATTERY 33

5.45 P.. The two detachments came away, first blow-
ing up the 4"5 how. and removing the breech
mechanism, dial sight, and sight clinometer of the
18-pdr. As soon as he had vacated the position
the sergeant reported to the machine-gun officer and
then to his battery's rear position.

" That's the way to carry on war," exclaimed the
colonel when the sergeant had saluted and departed"
"A stout fellow that!"
The reports from Divisional Artillery and from the
Infantry Brigade with whom we were in liaison showed
that the Hun was still coming on to the left and the
right of us. Directly in front of us he seemed quiescent,
but our orders were to get over the canal after nightfall.
The colonel dictated orders for the batteries to me, and
then said--
"I want you to get a telephone line out from here
over the canal. The batteries will corne into action
behind the railway embankment." Ie indicated the
positions on the map. "I'm going to keep an officer
at B Battery's rear O.1 . until the last moment, and
the line must run from him to here and thence over
the canal to the batteries in their new positions. You
quite understand ? I shall stay with GeneraI -- (the
infantry brigadier) and cross the canal with him. Leave
me one telephonist. We'll have dinner and get the kit
and the mess cart back to the waggon lines; and you'd
better get your line out immediately af ter dinner."
These orders were clear enough. We dined comfort-
ably, and by 8 p.M. all the waggons, save the mess cart,
were ready to move out of the quarry.
As I stepped out of the mess to see that arrange-
ments were complete the regimental sergeant-major

3¢ PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

approached me, saying" "They say the strong point at
 (about 600 yards away) has fallen, sir. We're
quite ready fo lllOVe, sir!"
A voice behind me, the colonel's- "Put a stop af
once fo such a ridiculous, panicky rumour. The next
lnan who repeats it is fo be put under arrest."
Nevertheless, when the telephone bell rang and I
went inside the mess fo answer it, the infantry brigade-
major's high-pitched volte said in quick sharp tones"
" The strong point has just been carried by the enemy.
¥ou'd better be clearing out of your quarry."

35

IV. THE NIGHT OF MARCH 21

SO,METHIlqG that aroused anger, recrimination, and some
amusement occurred during our night evacuation of the
quarry. Officers' and men's kit, the signalling outfit, the
doctor's medical stores, and the cook's stove and kitchen
utensils, had been packed. The sergeant-major had a
final hunt round, and then gave the order " Walk
march!" The G.S. waggon, drawn by six D.A.C. mules,
set off ai regulation pace, the mess cart drawn by Minnie,
the fat roan, followed with due sedateness; and then,
hang me! if the pole of the Maltese cart didn't snap
in two. Old-soldier resource and much hard swearing
failed to make it a workable vehicle. Worse sill, if
was this cart that contained the officers' kit, including
the colonel's. It was pitch-dark, and the advancing
enemy not more than a thousand yards away.
I wasn't there ai that exact moment, but I believe
the sergeant-major blamed the size of our "on leave "
adjutant's spare kit for the breakdown. "A valise and
a hall, two bags and a portmanteu--enough for three
people," he growled. An attempt was ruade to get .oui'
kit away by adding to the load on the G.S. waggon, but
that made if altogether too top-heavy; and after ten
minutes of sweating and shouing the sergeant-major
told the drivers to more off, leaving the wrccked
:Maltese crt and the ofiïcers' kit behind. That ws

36 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

how I found it--on the ground--when, having received
final instructions from the colonel for linking up the
batteries by telephone as soon as they took up new
positions on the other side of the canal, I came out
of the mess. Ihe colonel's servant stood by, looking
angrily at the abandoned kit; and the sergeant-major,
now on his horse, was saying he would try to borrow
a cart from one of the batteries and get the stuff over
the causal at any rate.
"Get away as soon as you can," I interrupted, "and
bring back the first cart you unload at the waggon
lines. You've got to get the Maltese cart away as
well. Two of the servants will stay behind to help
load up when you return. And look sharp if you
don't want the Boche to be here first."
A squadron of Yeomanry, with picks and shovels,
were lining up in front of the quarry as I came away
with three of the signallers. It was extremely dark,
there was a dampness in the air that suggested rain,
some Boche howitzers were firing over out heads across
the canal, and a steady " putt-puttr-putt-putt" in the
direction o the strong point, that less than half an
hour ago had fallen, told of a machine-gun duel in
progress. It was not an inspiriting moment; and
over us, like a pall, lay an atmosphere of doubt and
apprchension, that lack of knowledge of what was
really happening only added to.
But at such moments there's nothing so steadying to
mind and senses as something definite to do. Earlier on
I had noted marked on a Corps signalling-map a test-box
between the qurry and the canal and another one along
the railway embankment, hot far from the retiring
positious assigned to the batteries. If we could find
them the labour of laying an overlnd telephone wire

THE NIGHT OF MARCH 21 37

from the quarry to the opposite side of the canal would
be saved. We set out, got off the radway, and did a
good del of floundering about in hedge-bottms and over
waste lands; but the important thing was that we found
both test-boxes, and that the buried cables we hoped for
were there.
10.30 l'.M. : ] had reeled out my lines alongside the
railway from the test-box to D F, attery and to C and A,
who, because of the nine guns the brigade had lost in the
morning, had become a composite battery. They had
crossed the canal in cmparative quiet and were now
laying out lines of tire by cmpass bearings. 1 Battery
were coming along to a spot near the railway farther
north, and my signallers were waiting to connect them
up. Things were indeed getting ship-shape again. I
had spoken through to the colonel and put him in touch
with his battery conmmnders, and to the F.O.O. left t
the rearmost O.:P. on the eastern side of the canal. Tbe
colonel had issued a night-iiring 1,rogramme just as if
we were in sett.led positions, and with fresh ammunition
arriving from the original waggon lines the batteries
began "pooping off" with brisk enthusiasm, their object
being, of course, to cover the retirement of out infantry.
Every one of us had turned out that morning immedi-
ately the ttun bombardment started. :No sleep could be
looked for that night either; but there was the morrow,
:Match 22nd, to be reckoned withit might entail even
more wear and tear than the day which was ending; so
I sent back to the waggon lines all but six of the
signallers, the brigade clerks, the two wireless operators,
who had nothing whatever to do, and most of the
servants, telling them to get as much sloop as possible,
The colonel's servant was still in the quarry guarding
out castaway kit; my own servant I had stationed on

38 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

the canal bridge so that he could report to me as soon as
the sergcant-major and the rescuing waggon hove in
sight.
Our discovery of the buried cable running under the
canal had a sequel equally welcome. One of the tele-
phone linemcn said he believed there was another "bury"
on the far side of the railway cutting, and that it con-
nected with the back areas. The signalling-sergeant and
mysclf set out on another hunt, and, joy ! we discovered,
after patient test calls with a D.III. telephone, that by
speaking through two exchanges we could communicate
with our own Divisional H.Q. It was six hundred yards
from the railway cutting, but I could now keep in touch
with the colonel in front, the batteries to right and lcft
of me along the railway, and the brigadier-general and
the brigade-major in rear.
1 A.M. : My work for the moment was complete and I
could take it easy. I stood outside the test-box that
had become a sort of Brigade H.Q. and listened to the
waspish crack of our 18-pdrs. sending defiance to the
enemy. The six signallers--plus a terrierhad crowded
into the tiny sandbag shelter that protected the test-box.
Oae of them, receiver to car, waited for calls, a candle
stuck on an inverted mess-tin shedding sutticient light
for the pencilling of messages. The othcrs sprawled in
cramped positions, snuggled one against another for
warmth, and sought sleep. The doings of the Boche
seemed nmre puzzling than ever. What was happeniug
on the other side of the canal ? 'ive hours ago he had
captured a strong post within 1800 yards of the spot on
which I now stood, and we had no reserve lines of
infantry in front of him. Why this strange quiescence ?
And then my mind took another turn. What had
become of the sergeant-major with the waggon thut was

THE NIGHT OF MARCH 21 39

to gather up our left kit ? Why did he take such a long
time? I thought bitterly of my field boots, and the
:British warm I was beginning to want, and the new
jacket and breeches, all in my valise. Why hadn't I
put on my best pair of leggings to corne away in ? The
Boche would have been welcome to the older ones I was
wearing; besides, they didn't fit so well as the pair left
in the quarry.
The little American doctor suddenly nipped my elbow.
I had missed him during the last two hours. " Say, son,"
he said, "corne and take a walk along the line" l've
happened on a hut down along there with a tire in it.
Belongs to some sappers. Cone and take a warm."
Can t, I replied, shaking my head ; " I'd like to, but
I shall bave to be like the Boy who stood on the urn-
ing Deck to-night. I must stop on this spot until the
colonel comes across."
The doctor toddled off, and I got the telephonist to
ring through to the colonel. "The enemy seems to be
waiting. He's not troubling out infantry," he informed
me, and then added, "Has the kit been got away from
the quarry yet ?"
I ruade sure that the telephonist was ringing up each
battery every ten minutes to see that the lines were in
working order, and then climbed up the railway bank
and walked over to inquire if the brigade-major had any
news. He hadn't. "And try and keep in touch with
us on this line," he added. "It's the only way we bave
at the moment of speaking to your LnCade.
2 h.»i.- The best news of the night. The sergeant-
major had crossed the bridge. Our precious kit would
be borne to safety At 3.15 A.. he passed again,
triumphant, the Maltese car in tow as well. Hurrah
Let the war now proceed !

40 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

At 4.30 the colonel telephoned that the infantry
brigadier and himself were about to cross the canal. The
telephone wire could be cut, and I was to meet him at
the railway bridge in twenty minutes' rime.
"The infantry are crossing the canal at six o'clock," he
said when he rode up and called my name through the
mist. "Iatteries will start to withdraw to their next
positions at 6.30. Each battery will withdraw a section
(two guns) at a rime; and the last section nmst hot pull
out until the preceding section is in action at the new
position." tIe gave me the map co-ordinates of the new
positions, and rode oiI to visit the battery commanders.
6 A.M. : Extraordinary, it mas to be another rainless
hazy morning, tIow the weather always assists the
Boche! In the grey gloom on top of the embankment I
could see forms moving--our own infantry, marching
steadily, neither cheerful nor depressed, just moving, im-
personal forms. "What's happened ?" I asked a subaltern,
keeping rime with him as he marched.
"We're going back to Rouez Wood," he answered.
"The Westshires are lining up now behind the canal."
"Are they going to hold it ?" I asked.
"Don't know," was the reply; "only know our
orders."
"Had many casualties ?" I asked again.
"2qo! only a few from snipers. We weren't in the
counter-attack."
They swung round and passed over the railway bridge,
making west. On the bridge stood a keen-eyed, small-
featured sapper major. I talked to him.
"1o!" he informed me, "there's no intention of
making a stand here. We've blown up all the canal
bridges except one." A muffled boom! "Ah, there
goes the last one. All our infantry are over by now."

THE NIGHT OF MARCH 21

A few German 4"2's were coming over now, mostly
on the western side of the railway cutting. They helped
to put a bit of ginger into the withdrawal of the guns.
A section of each battery had now pulled out; the teams
" walked out," crossing the bridge and heading down the
road. There was no trotting. The batteries went out
heads high.
7 ,.M. : On the telephone I learned that the last two
sections were waiting the arrival of mounted orderlies to
tell them to pull out. tlight! I disconnected the
wires, told the signallers to report to l; Iattcry where
I would pick them up, and hot to waste time getting
there. Then I sought a copse on the other side of the
bridge, where I knew my horses would be waiting.
The sentry and the sappers who waited to blow up the
bridge remained at their posts silent and still. Forty
yards after passing them I was alone. I stopped in the
road and turned to look back. The sun was breaking
through the mist, but it was a mournful landscape--dull,
soulless. Ail at once I felt chilled and tired, and for
the first rime my thoughts turned seriously and intently
towards what the newly-arrived day had in store for
myself, for the Brigade, for Englnd.
From the other side of the canal the "putt-puttr-
putt" of machine-guns! I turned westwards and went
in search of my horses.

V. A GUNNER'S V.C.

NOT cven on this twenty-second of Match did we realise
fully the vast conceltion and the extent of the German
swoop, and that our Brigade was as jetsam and as flotsam
carried along on the mightiest part of the storm
flood.
7.30 A.M.: The last sections of our batteries to pull
out fronl behind the railway embankment passed me on
the road, the horses walking grandly, the men tired but
in high enough spirits. The enemy long-range guns
were waking up now and playing a danmable tattoo on
the main routes leading west. I saw one limber-waggon
belonging to the Engineers blown sky-high, and three
maimed horses had to be shot.
At the cross-roads east of the wood behind which the
batteries were retiring I came upon the colonel, his over-
coat buttoned up, his face pallid with sleeplessness; but
his mood was ont for overriding ditiiculties. He rode
beside me awhile, and then pulled up, exclaiming, "Let's
have a cup of tea to start the day with. Laneridge "--
to his groom--" bring my Thermos flask."
"The first thing for you to do," he went on, as we
drank tea and munched ration biscuits, a few of which
wise folk always slip into their pockets when things are
a-doing out here, "is to get wires out to the batteries
again. Headquarters will be ai Rouez. Division have

A GUNNER'S V.C. 3

gone back to where Corps were yesterday, and we
take over their quarters."
"What's the view of things at Infantry tteadquarters,
sir ? " I asked as we mounted again.
"Well, they blame the mist for the enemy getting
past the outposts. Most of the machine-guns they
camouflaged with so much trouble never came into the
picture. But for some reason or other the Boche didn't
follow up. l'erhaps he was waiting for reservcs, or
perhaps he got suspicious. Out ifantry didn't suffit
many casualties, and I'm sure thc cnemy didn't. We
retired according to sche|ulc rime, and things were quite
quiet when I crossed the canal at four o'clock this
morning.
"Extraordnary atitude of mind some of the men
out here nowadays have," be proceeded. "Last night
they brought n one of the----'s, who was .captured
by the Boche in the mornng but escaped and got back
to the battalion. He said that the cnemy set prisoncrs
bringing ammunition up to ther front line. When he
was asked how he escaped, he said that a shell killed
'the man-in-charge' of the party and he got away.
' The man-in-charge,'" repeated the colonel. " He
spoke as if the Boche N.C.O. were a sort of fore-
man, and as if bringing up ammunition which was to
be shot at your own countrymen was the most ordinary
thng in the world."
Two high-velocity shells whizzed above out heads, and
the colonel's mare plunged excitedly. The enemy were
evidently "stoking up" for a fresh effort. We trotted
on and toured the batteries, the colonel inspecting the
),
O.I. s from which out tire was to be directed, and ascer-
taining whether there was difficulty in keeloing ammu-
nition supply up to 300 rounds per gun. When we

44 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

reached the Brigade tteadquarters horse lines, I in-
structed the sergeant-major to turn out the telephone
waggon in readiness to lay lines to the new battery
positions. Then breakfast--steaming tea and sizzlini
fried eggs and bacon cooked to the minute. Nothing
like being out all night for galvanising the breakfast
al)petite. And no time for kingering afterwards. A
canter along the roadside to catch up the telel)hone
cart; thell, while the signalling-sergeant, a good fellow
who could read a map, reeled out lines through the
wood to the batteries, I undertook a tussle with the
terminal boards in the huge and elaborate dug-out
telephone exchange, that up to 5 A.. had been the
chief exchange of the whole Division. Now that
Divisional Headquarters had been established where
Corps I[eadquarters had been the da 3, belote, four toiles
baek, there had to be a re-allotnmnt of lines to Infantry,
Artillery, Engineers, A.S.C., and the other units that
work out the will of the Divisional Commander.
" Fil get young :Bushman down from B Battery to do
signalling-ofiïeer to-morrow. If will be difiàeult for you
to do adjutant and signalling-offieer as well, remarked the
colonel two hours later, as he bent over his maps.
3 P.M. : A R.H.A. brigade had put in a claire for the
quarters destined for us. Three days ago this would have
resulted in polite reerimination and telephoned appeals
to higher authorities, but to-day, sueh is the effeet of
mobile warïare, we ail managed to dig in somehow. A
deeent but for the colonel had been ïound, and there
was a room in a bomb-mauled cottage, where the doetor,
"Swiffy," the veterinary oflïeer, and myeelf hoped to
spread out eamp-beds. We had shaved and washed and
lunehed, and looked and felt respectable again. The
C.R.A. and the brigade-major had ealled and gone off

A GUNNER'S V.C. 45

with the colonel to see the batteries shoot. I had
forwarded by despatch- rider the Brigade return of
casualties to the staff captain, so that reinforcements
might be applied for forthwith. A French pointer of
confiding disposition, who calne into the mess from
nowhere in particular, seemed quite to have ruade up
his mind that we were corne to stay.
The telephone bell! The brigade-major of our com-
panion Infantry Brigade, with the latest news ! " He's
not crossed the canal on out front yet, and your guns
are doing good work keeping him bck. But he's got
farther forward than we expected north of us. It's
from the south that we want more news. There's a
report that we have been pushed out of Tergnier. That's
very bad, if true."
A quarter of an hour ]ater he rang up again. "There's
a report that enemy ilffantry are massing in Z 23 d 5.8.
Can you turn your guns on to 'em ?" I looked at the
map co-ordinates he had given, and rang through to
the batteries.
4.30 .M.: Pretty definite signs now that.the enemy
was coming on. A 5"9 had ruade a hole a hundred yards
from where Headquarter horse lines had been staked out.
Another had crashed among the trees that sheltered out
mess, and a branch, after being jerked yards high in the
air, had fallen plunk through the cook's bed. And they
were hot long-range shells either. Also, there had been
seven shots from the most wicked, the most unsettling
weapon in the Hun armoury--the 4.2 high-velocity
gun, that you don't hear until it is past you, so to
speak. One shell grazed the top of the office in which
the doctor and myself were siting; another snapped off
a tree-trunk like--well, as a 4"2 does snap off a tree-
trunk. Most ominous sign of all--when the seven shots

6 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

had been fired, three ugly-looking holes ringed them-
selves round the colonel's hut. Next, a ttun aeroplane,
with irritating sauciness, circled above our camp, not
more than rive hundred feet up. Our "Archies" ruade
a lot of noise, and enjoyed their customary success: the
Hun airman sailed calmly back to his own lines.
6 f.M. : The adjurant of the 12,.H.A. Brigade came in
to tell me that the enemy were getting closer, and that
the break-tbrough on out right admitted of no doubt.
I despatched written orders to the battery waggon
lines for gun teams and limbers to be brought up to
within a thousand yards of the guns.
7 e.M. : The colonel was back. A battery that had
only reached France three days befoe had been put
under bis comnmnd, fo compensate for the loss of
seven guns from A and C batteries. It was getting
dark, but the ofiicers ai the O.P.'s in front of the
wood were still able to pick up moving targets, and
many Gernlans were being accounted for.
The colonel found rime to mention more episodes of
the Match Twenty-first fighting. "Every bridge over
the canal was blown up by 6.30 this morning," he said;
" but, do you know tht D Battery's cook, who had got
left behind last night, and seems to bave wandered about
a good deal, did hot corne over until nine o'clock this
lnorning ? No wonder we retired in comfort."
The brigadier had told him more of what had hap-
pened to the--rd, our companion Divisional Artillery
Brigade. "Their C Batry put up a wonderful fight--
got infantry and trench mortars to help, and didn't come
away until 10 P.M., after putting their guns out of action.
One gunner did extraordinarily stout work. Unaided,
and with a rifle, he held up a Boche machine-gun
party that had worked round on the battery's left,

A GU:N:NER'S V.C. 4,7

flanl:, and later, with three others, captured the machine-
gun. One Boche, who broke through, he chased over
hall the country apparently, and shot him down. The
amusing thing is that when he had killed thc Boche he
searched his pockets, and round a cake, addressed to a
bombardier in another battery. The Huns had scuppered
this battery and ransacked their dug-outs. The bombar-
dier was somewhat surprised last night when the gunner
handed him his lost cake."
This was a gunner who eventually was awarded the
highest honour a soldier can win.
8 œe..- A dinner much disturbed by German artillery.
They started a tremendous shelling of the wood in which
we were encamped. Salvos of 5"9's ruade deafening
crashes among the trees, and the earth was shuken
by the heavier, more awe-inspiring "crump" of thc
8-inch how. There was now, too, a steady bombard-
ment of Villequier Aumont, the village, a toile and a
halï behind, in which' the battery waggon lines had
been installed.
The colonel came to a rapid decision. "They'll make
Villequier Aumont and the wood too hot for waggon
lines to-night," he remarked. "We'll move them at
once to the other side of Villequier Aumont. Dump
them on the roadside. You'd better go and see it carried
out. Leave me two cycle orderlies, and l'Il stay with
the Infantry Brigade. They have a mined dug-out
here."
So, for the second rime in twenty-four hours, we did
a night retirement. Infantry were coming back along
the road, and big shells were falling at regular intervals.
Any amount of retreating traffic on the other side of
Villequier Aumont, but no signs of panic or confusion.
A block caused by supply lorries coming ïrom the oppo-

48 PUSLIED, AND TLIE RETURN PUSLI

site direction threatened to hold up some ambulance cars,
but it was only momentary. Out little American doctor
did good work here, galloping off to halt the supply
lorries and raising Cain until the traffic sorted itself out.
I selected a field near the roadside for Headquarter
waggon lines. A stream tan conveniently by. The
horses were watered and fed; our Headquarter notice-
board was duly afiïxed to a roadside tree; and the doctor
added to his previous achievement by tying a tarpaulin
to the side of the mess cart, so that "Swiffy," the doctor
himself, and myself had shelter when we lay down.
The moon rose glorious, serene ; there was no need for
candles to light us to bed. We slept heavily, too tired
to worry about the morrow, or the menacing drone of
Hun 'planes overhead.

49

VI. BEHIND VILLEQUIER AUMONT

I HAVE tried to explin how " this tlood-burst of moving
war, such as the world had never before seen," affected
one unit of the R.F.A., and one unimportant civilian
soldier who was doing adjutant ; how the immensity and
swift thoroughness of the German effort must have been
realised by the casual newspper reader in England more
quickly than by the average officer or man who had to
fight against it.
5.30 .M. : That six hours' sloop under a tarpaulin did
me all the good in the world, and by 5 .M. I was out
seeing that our Headquarter horses were being groomed
and fed and got ready for immediate action.
The guns were particularly quiet, and I remember
thinking- wo have retreated eight toiles in forty-eight
hours-it's about time we stopped. Something is sure
to be doing farther north, where we are so much
stronger.
Breakfst and a shave; thon a move forward to find
the colonel, and to learn whether ho wanted the waggon
lines brought up again. It was a lovely morning. A
beautiful stretch of meadowland skirted the road leading
back to Villequier Aumont, and my horse cantered as if
the buoyancy of spring possessed him also. I caught up
Fentiman of D Battery, who said ho was shifting
his waggon lines back to Villequier Aumont. " The
D

50 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

water and the standings are so much better there,"
he said.
I round the colonel standing in the square at Ville-
quiet Aumont, watching the departure by car of the
three American ladies who for a month past had dis-
pensed tea and cakes in the gaily-painted maisonette at
the top of the village. They had been the first har-
bingers of the approaching brotherhood between the
]3ritish and American Armies in this part of the Front:
brave hospitable women, they had ruade many friends.
The colonel was not in such good mood this morning.
He had remained through the night with the" infantry
brigadier in the wood fr0m which our horse lines had
withdrawn the previous evening. The dug-out was none
too large, and his only rest had been a cramped four
hours trying to sleep on the floor. With no test at all
the night before, no wonder he looked fagged. But im-
mediately there were orders to give, he became his usual
alert, clear-headed self. "It is most important this
morning that we should keep communication with our
Divisional Artillery Headquarters," he began. "Bring
the telephone cart back to the wood at once, and put
a couple of telephonists into the dug-out. They'll be
safe there until the last possible moment. It's un-
certain yet whether we're going to hold the enemy up
there or not."
I galloped back and brought the telephone cart along
at a trot. The two wheelers, particularly "the doctor's
mare," stepped out in most refreshing style. "The old
cart's never had such a day since it's been to France,"
grinned the signalling-sergeant when we pulled up. Odd
5"9's were falling in the wood; our batteries had shifted
in the early morning from the eastern side of the
wood to positions more north-west, and two Horse

BEHIND VILLEQUIER AUMONT 51

Artillery batteries were rnoving up behind the rise
that protected our right flank, tut what was this ?
Coming up at a stead.y rnarch, bayonets glinting, a
long column of blue-grey wound into view. French
infantry! The thin line of khaki was af last to
receive support!
7 A..: The Infantry battle was now developing
sharply two thousand yards in front of us. Shells
crashed persistently into the wood; the " putt-
puttr- putt" of machine- guns rattled out ceaselessly.
• Whirnsically I recalled quieter days on the
Somme, when our rnachine-gunners used fo loose off
seven rounds in such a way as to give a very pass-
able imitation of that popular comic-song tag, " Urn-
tiddy-om-pom--Pom-pon, !" After three attempts we
had given up trying to keep telephone touch with the
batteries, and [ had detailed lnounted orderlies to be
in readiness. One line I kept going, though, between
the hut where the infantry brigadier and his brigade-
major and the colonel received messages describing
the progress of the fighting, and the telephone dug-
out, whence the colonel could be switched on to
the artillery brigadier. There was bad news of the
battery just out from England that had corne under
the colonel's comnmnd the evening before. Three of
their guns had been smashed by direct hits, and they
had lost horses as well. The toche were swarming
over the canal now, and our A and C and t tatteries
were firiug over open sights and cutting up Gerrnans
as they surged towards our trenches.
11 A.M. : Orders frorn our own brigadier to pull out
the guns and retire to a crest behind Villequier Aurnont.
I heard the news corne along the telephone wire, and
went through the wood to seek further directions from

52 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSIt

the colonel. It was evident now that the wood could
only be held at great sacrifice, and by determined hand-
to-hand fighting. The Boche outnumbered us by at
least four to one, and French help had not yet arrived
in sufficient strength. I walked behind two rows of
French and British infantry, lying ready in shallow
newly-dg trenches. They looked grave and thoughtful;
some of them had removed their tunics. I remember
noting that of four hundred men I passed hot one was
tMking to his neighbour. I remember noticing a few
horses waiting behind, and motor-eyelist messengers
hurriedly arriving and hurriedly departing. I re-
member most of ail the mournful, desolate howling
of a dog, tied up to one of the now deserted huts
the poor friendly Freneh pointer who the day before
had snuggled his nose into my hand. Iqear the hedge
leading to the hut where I should find the colonel stood
 group of infantry offieers. One of them, a tall lieu-
tenant-colonel, I reeognised as Colonel who had
dined with us in out mess in the quarry  few nights
belote the offensive started. His head was heavily band-
aged. I learned some days afterwards tht he had been
wounded while leading a company of his battalion in a
counter-attack; and that hot long after I passed him
that morning in the wood he reorganised and exhorted
his men, facing terrific rifle and machine-gun tire--and
indeed showed such glorious and inspiring courage that
he gained the Victoria Cross.
1 l'.M. : The mounted orderlies had delivered orders to
the batteries to retire, and D Battery was already trek-
king along the road the other side of Villequier Aumont.
Machine-gun tire in the wood we had left was hotter
than ever. And the German guns were moving up, as
could be told when long-range efforts began to be ruade

BEHIND VILLEQUIER AUMONT 53

on the villages behind Villequier Aumont. Hall a dozen
high-velocity shells struck the road we had traversed,
one of them knocking out a Horse Artillery waggon and
three horses. Two other horses had to be shot, and the
sixth bolted. From the markings on a good home that
I round tied to out own lines later in the day, I con-
cluded that the runaway had strayed in out direction;
and in the matter of strayed horses--good horses, that
is--the sergeant- major always worked on the prin-
ciple, "It's all in the same firm." At any rate, we
had a valuable spare horse for the trying match that
followed.
2.30 P.. : The colonel had selected the new positions
for the batteries, and two of them were already in.
While we waited the arrival of the others, we flung
ourselves down in a hay- field and watched the now
continuous stream of men, batteries, transport lorries,
and ambulance cars coming up the hill leading from
¥illequier Aumont, and toiling past us towards Ugny.
There was no doubting it now: it was a retreat on a
big scale.
All round us were rolling fields, ricb of soil, and tilled
and tended with that French care and thoroughness that
the war has intensified. Even small irregular patches
at road-crossings have been cultivated for the precious
grain these last two years. "The ]oche will get all
this, curse him !" muttered the colonel.
Major Bullivant of 1 Battery came over the hill on
the pet grey maejthat, in spite of three changes from
one Division to another, he had managed to keep with
him all the rime he had been in France. tte didn't
dismount in drill-book fashion; he just fell off. It was
spirit, hot physique, that was keeping him going. Un-
shaven, wild-eyed, dirty, he probably didn't know it.

54 PUSI=IED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

tIis mind centred on nothing but the business in hand.
"My battery is coming through Villequier Aumont now,
sir," he informed the colonel. " For a few minutes I
was afraid we weren't going to get out. My damn fool
of a sergeant-major, for some reason or other, took the
gun-teams back to the waggon lines this morning. Said
he was going to change them and bring fresh teams up
after breakfast or something. When t-eadle came up
with the teams we were under machine-gun tire. Got
one man killed and three wounded, and we have a few
scratches on the shields.. . If I don't get up, sir, I
shall fall fast asleep," he exclaimed suddenly. "Where
are our new positions, sir ?"
The colonel handed him his flask, and he smiled. "As
a matter of fact, sir, l've kept going on ration rum."
When the colonel and Major tullivant went off, up
rode t-eadle in an extraordinary get-up- tritish warm,
gum-boots, and pyjamas. He had been able to get no
change since the toche 8-inch had wiped out ] tattery's
mess at the opening of the Hun bombardmeut on the
21st. It wus an amazing thing, but neither of us had
remembered to eat anything since breakfast until that
moment. The day's excitements had caused us to ignore
rime altogether, and to forget hunger. ]ut teadle's
tired grin brought me back to such worldly matters, and
we fell to on a tin of bully and a hunk of cheese that
the signalling-sergeant discovered for us.
"They say we've done jolly well up north," said teadle,
his mouth full. "Got as far as Cambrai, and 25,000
prsoners taken at Ypres."
"Who told you that?" I asked, at the saine rime ready
to believe. Did not this entirely support my belief of
he early morning ? Certainly we must be doing some-
thing up north !

IEHIND VILLEQUIER AUMONT 55

"I heard it at the waggon lines," went on teadle.
"They say it's in Corps orders."
The line of retreating traffic and of loaded ambulance
cars in front of us maintained its monotonous length.
But the retirement continued to be orderly and under
full control, although now and again a block in the next
village kept the main road lined with immobile horses
and men, while high-velocity shells, directed at the road,
whizzed viciously to right and left of them. One kilted
Scot passed us leading a young cow. He paid no heed
to the jests and the noisy whistling of" To be a Fariner s
Boy" that greeted him. " The milk 'ull be a' richt the
morn's morn, ye ken," was his comfortable retort. And
once a red-headed Yorkshireman broke the strain of the
wait under shell-fire by calling out, " It's a good job
we're winnin'! "
The colonel came back after showing Major Bullivant
his new battery position, and told me to ride off at once
to Ugny, where Divisional Artillery tteadquarters had
stationed themselves, and inform the staff captain that
the ammunition dump on the roadside contained no
ammunition. " Find out something definite," he ordered.
D.A. had settled themselves in two rooms in a deserted
house, and the staff captain quickly sketched out the
arrangements he had ruade for ammunition supply. "A
Divisional ammunition column is too cumbersome for
this moving warfare," he said, " and your Brigade will
be supplied by No. 1 section acting as B.A.C. There's
an ammunition park at , and if you will supply
guides here (pointing to the map) at 6.30 to-night, your
B.A.C. will supply direct to your waggon lines. And
that arrangement will continue so long as we are con-
ducting this sort of warefare. Is that clear? . . .
Right !"

56 PUSHED, AND TI=IE RETURN PUSH

As I was about to depart, in came the brigade-major,
who had been in consultation with the brigadier-general.
"Ah, ," he said, calling me by naine, "you can give
me some information. Is the colonel far away ?"
"tIe's with the batteries, sir, giving them targets from
their new positions."
"Right! Can you tell me how many guns you bave
in action now ?"
I was a'ble to do this, and also told him where our
batteries were going to establish waggon lines for tbe
night.
"That won't do," he interrupted ; "you'll be too far
north. The Roche is coming down that main road.
You'd better tell the colonel that any further retirement
must be south-west, because the Boche is pinching us on
our left. l'll show you the line as it runs at present.
l've just got it."
We bent over his large-scale map, and I copied the
curved line on to my own map. "The French are
properly in now," added the brigade-major, "and we are
going to fight for that line. There's to be no more
retiring."
"Is if true, sir, that we've done well up north ? Most
encouraging rumours flying round."
"I don't know," he replied with a tired smile. "I
hope so."
A smile and a cheering word from the General, who
said, " l've just seen the colonel, and l've put two of
your batteries farther forward. They'll help to hold
¥illequier .Aumont a bit longer." Then outside I met
Beadle, and gave him the time and place where battery
guides had to meet the B.A.C. amnmnition waggons, and
sent off my groom to convey this information ofticially
to all the battery waggon lines. After which I cantered

BEHIND VILLEQUIER AUMONT 57

back, and discovered the colonel inspecting the two
batteries that the General had noved to more forward
positions.
It was 6 '.M., and the enemy advance machine-gun
parties were now certainly closing in on Villequier
Aumont, which lay in the hollow beneath us. But I
shall always remember the handling of our composite
A and C batteries on that occasion. It so exactly ful-
filled drill-book requirements, it might all have been
done on parade. The noses of the four 18-pdrs. peeped
out from under a clump of beeches, close to a pond under
the brow of a hill. Durable had climbed to the top of
a tower three-quarters of a mlle from the battery, and
directed the shooting from the end of a roughly laid
telephone wire. Ho reported only fleeting glimpses of
Huns, but could guess pretty well the spots at which
they were congregating, and issued his orders accordingly.
Young Eames, the ofiïcer passing the orders to the
gunners, stood very upright, close to the battery tele-
phonist, and let his voice ring out in crisp staccato tones
that would have won him full marks at Larkhill or
Shoeburyness: " Aiming point top of tower. All guns
• Four 0 degrees Right. Concentrate Two 0
minutes on Number One .... Corrector 15 2 .... Why
didn't you shout out your Fuze Number 3 ? . . . Three
Two-fiftyuTwo Nine-fifty.. . Will you acknowledge
orders, Sergeant Kyle ? . . ."
The colonel, who was standing well behind Eames,
smiled and said to me, " Good young officer that. If he
keeps as cool all the rime, the battery ought to shoot
well."
ttun aeroplanes were beginning to corne over. Trench
war customs had ruade if almost axiomatic that firing
should cease when enemy aircraft appeared. Three

58 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

times the battery stopped firing ai the cry, "Aero-
plane up !"
The colonel intervened. "Don't stop because of aero-
planes now," he said sharply. "We're fighting moving
warfare, and the enemy haven't rime to concentrate all
their attention on this battery."
7 P.M.- The colonel and I walked slowly back to the
roadway. "l've sent back to Bushman, and told him to
bring I-Ieadquarters waggon lines up here," he said.
"They are too far back the other side of Ugny, and
we're only a small unit- we can move more quickly
than a battery. We'll unhook on the side of that hill
there, away from the road. It will be quite warm
to-night, and we can lie down under those trees." . . .
A dozen or so 5"9's rushed through the air, and burst
with terrifying ear-racking crashes along the road in
front of us. A charred, jagged rent showed in the wall
of a farm building. Three hundred yards farther along
we saw the Headquarter vehicles drawn up on the road-
side. The drivers and the signallers were drinking tea,
and seemed to be preparing to settle for the night in a
barn whose lofty doors opened on to the road. " Look
ai those fellows," ejaculated the colonel testily. "They're
never happy unless they can stuff themselves under a
roof. Fetch 'em out, and tell 'em to pull up to the top
of that hill there. As long as you keep away from
villages and marked roads you can escape lnost of the
.... OE ''
shellm.
7.30 P.M." We had tied up the horses, and parked the
G.S. waggon and the telephone and mess carts. Twilight
had almos merged into night now, but the moon was
rising, and if was to be another amazingly lustrous moon
The cook had started a small log-fire to make tea for
the colonel, Bushman, and myself, and after that we

BEHIND VILLEQUIER AUMONT 59

intended to lie down and get some sleep. " Swiffy" and
the doctor seemed to have disappeared. Must be atone
of the battery waggon lines, we concluded.
"While tea is getting ready, l'll walk down to D
Battery again. They're pretty close up to the infantry,
and I want to make sure they can get out easily if they
have to make a rapid move," remarked the colonel, and he
disappeared over the hill, taking his servant with him.
The kettle had not had time to boil. The colonel
had only been away ten minutes. The tired drivers
were unrolling their blankets and preparing for slumber.
Suddenly my ear caught a voice calling up the hillside--
the colonel's--followed twice by the stentorian tones of
his servant.
The cry was, "Saddle-up !"

6O

VII. STILL IN RETREAT

8.15 r.f.: "I found that D ]attery had moved off---
gone towards the other side of Ugny, and A and C were
also on the march," explained the colonel, when Head-
quarter carts and waggons--parked out for the night
only hall an hour before--had again got under way
(taking the road between Villequier Aumont and Ugny)
fo the third rime during twenty-two hours. "Division
got news that the ]oche was putting in two fresh
divisions, and intended to attack by moonlight," he
added, "and they thought our guns were too close up
to be safe; so the brigade-major hurried down and told
the batteries to move back at once. We turn south-
west from Ugny and make for Commenchon, and corne
into action there as soon as we get further news from
Division. I bave sent out orders to all the batteries,
and they are marching to Commenchon independently."
It was a radiant night. The moon rode high in a
star-spangled sky; there was a glow and a sense of
beauty in the air--a beauty that exalted soul and mind,
and turned one's thoughts to music and loveliness and
home. The dry hard roads glistened white and clean;
and in the silvery light the silhouettes of men marching
steadily, purposefully, took on a certain dignity that the
garish sun had not allowed to b revealed.
Whether we spoke of it or not, each one of us listened

STILL IN RETREAT 6l

expectantly for the swift-rushing scream of a high-
velocity shell, or the long-drawn sough of an approaching
5"9. This main road, along which our retreating columns
were winding their slow even way, was bound to be
strafed.
We rode through Ugny, two days ago a Corps H.Q.,
deserted now save for the military police, and for odd
parties of engineers, signallers, and stretcher-bearers.
Then our way took us down a wide sunken rond, through
an undulting countryside that stretched p to remote
pine-tipped hills to right and left of us. A battalon of
'rench infantry had lmlted by the roadside ; their voices,
softer, more tuneful than those of our men, seemed in
keeping with the moonlit scene; and in their long field-
blue coats they somehow seemed bigger, more matured,
thon our foot-soldiers.
We had marched rive mlles when a horseman on a
broad-backed black came towards us. He looked intently
at every one he passed as he rode the length of our
column. " Is that the adjutant, sir ?" he asked when he
came level with me ; and then, sure of my identity, went
on, " l've got our supply waggon with me, sirhalted if
at the next cross-roads. I heard the Brigade was moving,
sir, and came to find the best spot to pick you up. The
battery supply waggons will be passing this way in about
half an hour, sir."
Keeping dily touch with your supply column is one
of the fine arts of moving warfare, and the resourceful
M'Donald had again proved his worth. "Refilling point,
to-morrow, will be at Baboeuf, sir," he added, "and after
to-morrow it will be only iron rations. Good forage
to-day, sir."
11 .M.: Brigade Headquarters had pulled into the
right of the road behind B Battery, just outside a village

62 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

that up to the 21st had been a sort of rest-village, well
behind the lines. Army Ordnance, Army Service Corps,
and battalions out of the line were the only units rcpre-
sented there, and a fair proportion of the civil population
had re-established itself after the German retreat in the
spring of 1917. low all was abandoned again, furniture
and cattle bundled out, and houses locked up in the hope
that shortly the Boche would be thrust back and the
village re-occupied by its rightful owners.
The colonel had ridden forward with young Bushman
to meet the brigade-major and to settle where the
Brigade would camp. More French infantry passed,
going up to the Front by the way we had corne back.
Twice, big lasting flares illuminated the sky over there
where the fighting was--stores being burnt to prevent
them falling into German hands, we concluded. Pres-
ently, Bushman returned and pointed out a particular
area where Brigade Headquarters could settle down.
The small village green would do for horse lines and
for parking out vehicles. I sent off the sergeant-major
to scout for water supply, and took possession of a
newly-roofed barri in which the men might sleep. There
was a roomy shed for the officers' horses and a stone
outhouse for the men's kitchen, low about a billet for
the colonel!
"There's a big house at the back, sir, with an
artillery mess in it," said the sergeant-major, who had
finished watering and feeding the horses. "Perhaps
there's a spare room there for the colonel."
I went round and came upon the officers of a 6-inch
how. battery, who had reached the village two hours
before, and were finishing their evening meal. They
offered me dinner, which I refused, and then a whisky,
which I accepted; but there were no spare rooms. They

STILL IN RETREAT 63

had got away from the neighbourhood of the canal with
the loss of two hows., but told me of a 9"2 battery
at , that it had been absolutely impossible to get
out. "I believe it is true that we've done very well up
north," replied their Irish captain cheerfully. " Lots of
prisoners at Ypres, they say .... Have another whisky !"
"We bave one tent, haven't we?" I asked the
sergeant-major when I got outside.
"Yes, sir, but there's a cottage where Meddings has
put the ofiicers' cook-house. It looks all right, and
there might be something there for the colonel."
The cottage certainly looked clean and neat from the
outside, but the door was locked, and it is the rule that
British troops only enter French houses with the consent
of the owners. However, I climbed through the window
and round two empty rooms each with bed and mattress.
Times were not for picking and choosing. "We'll put
the tent up," I decided, "and ask the colouel if he cares
to take one of these beds or have the tent. ¥ou and I,
]3ushman, will take what he doesn't want."
When I took a turn round to see if the men were
comfortably settled for the night, I learnt that the
skurried departure of the A.S.C. had provided them
with unexampled opportunity of legitimate loot. There
was one outbuilding crammed with blankets, shirts,
socks, and underwear--and our men certainly rose to
the occasion. Even the old wheeler chuckled when
he discovered a brand-new saw and a drill. The
sergeant-major fastened on to a gramophone; and that
caused me for the first rime to remember my Columbia
graphophone that I had loaned to C Battery before I
went home wounded from Zillebeke. ttang it, it must
have been left behind at Villequier Aumont. The
Germans had probably got it by now.

6 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSII

]t was half-past twelve before the colonel returned.
" l'll bave my camp-bed put up there," he said promptly,
indicating an airy cart-shed, and he refused altogether to
look at the empty cottage. So Bushman and I had beds
ruade up in the tent, and then the three of us sat down
to a welcome and memorable al fresco supper opposite
our horse lines. Our table was a door balanced on a
tree stump, and Meddings provided a wonderful Lincoln-
shire pork-pie, tte also managed hot potatoes as an
extra surprise, and as it was our first set meal since
5.30 A.M. breakfast, there was a period of steady, quiet,
hapl»y munching. One cigarette, then the colonel tucked
himself up in his valise, and in three minutes was deep
in his first sleep for three successive nights.
" l'll tell you what I'm going to do," I said to tush-
man when we got in our tent. " I'm going to take my
clothes off and put on pyjamas. ¥ou never know these
days when you'll get another chance."
I had pulled off my jacket, when I heard a jingling
sound outside and French voices. Looking out, I saw
a couple of troops of French cavalry picketing their tall
leggy horses on the village green. I just had time to
rush out and prevent two troopers stabling their oflïcers'
chargers in the cart-shed where the colonel was resting.
They seemed startled when I whispered that it was
"mon colonel" who lay there, but they apologised with
the politeness of their race, and I pointed out a much
better stable higher up the street.
About 3 A.M. the piqtmt woke me fo introduce an
artillery ofiïcer with a Caledonian accent, who asked
if I could tell him where a brigade I knew nothing at
all about were quartered in the village. The next thing
I remember was the colonel's servant telling me the
colonel was up and wanted me immediately.

65

VIII. A LAST FIFTY ROUNDS

5.30 ... :"No orders have reached me from Division
yet," said the colonel, shaving as he talked, his pocket
mirror precariously poised on a six-inch nail stuck in
one of the props that held up the roof of his cart-
shed boudoir. "And I'm still waiting for reports from
A and D that they've arrived at the positions I gave
them on the orders sent out last night. I want you to
go off and find the btteries. I will wait hcre for orders
from Division. ttave your breakfast first. You'll find
the bateries somewhere ulong that contour," pointing
with the little finger of the hand that held the safety
razor fo a 1/100,000th map on his bed.
Again I realised as I set out, followed by my groom,
that the :Boche had moved forward during the night.
The village we had occupied at 11 ,.1. was now within
range of his guns. Two 5"9's dropped even at that
moment within 200 yards of out horses. Moreover, I
hadn't ridden far along the main street before I met
some of out divisional infantry. A company commander
told me that the French had corne throu,h and relieved
them. His brigadier had arrived at Commenchon at
4 ,.M., and was lying downin the white house at
the corner. "The :Boche gave us no test at ail last
night," he went on. "He'd got two fresh divisions
opposite us, and shoved up thousands of men after
E

 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSII

ten o'clock. We killed hundreds of 'em, but there
was no stopping them. And aren't they hot with
the machine-gun? They must bave been specially
trained for this sort Of warfare. They snipe you at
700 yards as if the machine-gun were a rifle, and
their infantry hasn't needed a barrage to prepare the
way. There's so many of 'em."
I trotted on, and at the top of the street leading
out of the village recognised a mounted orderly of
the battery I had belonged to before coming to
]3rig«de tteadquarters, tte was riding hard, but pulled
up when he saw me and handed me a note, saying,
"Major Bartlett sent me with this to Brigade Head-
quarters, sir."
I recognised the brigade-nmjor's handwriting on an
ordinary Army message form. If was a note stating
that we were to remain in support of the French after
out own divisional infantry had fallen back, but that the
French Divisional General hoped to relieve out artillery
by 9 A.. We were to tire on certain points until
that hour, and then withdraw to a village still
farther south-west, and again co-operate with our own
infantry.
"Do you know if Major Bartlett read this?" I
askcd.
"Yes, sir; I saw him read it." 
" Is the battery in action ?"
"Yes, sir; they were firing when I came away."
Good! I knew then that Major ]3artlett, on his own
initiative, was acting on the instructions contained in
the brigade-major's note, and that the other batteries
would not be delayed in getting into action if I sent the
note direct to the colonel.
I took the orderly another quarter of a toile along the

A LAST FIFTY ROUNDS

road, so that he could point out the nearest way to
Major :Bartlett's battery; and then told my groom fo
take him direct to the colonel, af ter which the pair of
them would rejoin me.
I found the major in good fettle, and, as I had
guessed, b]azing off at the targets given by the B.M.
As also he had passed on the orders to B Battery, who
were three hundred yards away, we at any rate
had two batteries in action. He explained to me
that the Division despatch-rider had somehow failed
fo fiud Brigade Headqutrters, but lmd corne across
him. He had got his battery into position at about
two o'clock, and they had dossed down beside the
gIns.
The major didn't know the whereabouts of D and
A Batteries, so I got on my horse again and searched
a village that was farther south, but on the saine map-
contour. Judge of my relief when I encountered
Fentiman, who to]d me that D and A would be a.long
in ten minutes. I emphasised the need for despatch,
and he told me that the previous night his battery's
waggon lines had been taken back farther than
they shou]d bave been; the horses being thoroughly
done, they had had a proper halt ai midnight. "We']l
be firing i twenty minutes," he added optimistically.
" l'Il dash along and work out the targets with Major
Bartlett."
A couple of tIorse Artillery batteries had corne into
action a quarter of a toile behind ours, and shells began
to fly in the direction of the enemy in business-like
fashion. From the ridge we looked into a village that
sloped up again to a thick belt of trees three thousand
yards in front of us and to blue distances away on the
right. Down the slopes tiny blue iigures could be seen

68 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

feverishly throwing up earth; parties of twenty and
thirty men, khaki-clad, every now and then emerged
from the wood, and in single file dipped down to the
valley and ctme towards the village I had just left.
The problem would undoubtedly be how far the retire-
ment would proceed before French reinforcements ruade
the line massive enough for a proper stand. The colonel
was now with the batteries, checking their lines of tire,
and encouraging btttery commanders to do their damned-
est until the French artillery came along. My groom
told me that the colonel had had a very narrow escape
as he passed through Commenchon. A shell dropped
thirty yards from him, and a splinter had wounded his
mare. "
8.30 t.M.- The eternal machine-guns were spluttering
devilishly in the wood Ol»posite. Our infantry were
coming back :n largç,r numbers now, and I thougbt
glumIy of what the brigade-major had said the previous
evening, "We are goin fo fight for tlfis line." The
colonel had conferred with the colonel of the Horse
Artillery, who sad that his orders were fo pull out ai
9.15, corne what may. "The Corps are partcularly
anxious that no more guns should be lost." The
veterinŒEry sergeant of a IIorse Artillery battery had
dressed the colonel's mare, although she was too excited
for him to get the splinter out. "I think she deserves
to have a wound stripe up," smiled the colonel, who was
excedingly fond of ber.
9 A.g.- No signs yet of the French artillery. There
seemed to be a curious lull in the fighting. Only the
Boche long-range guns were firing, and their shells were
going well over out heads. And no more French
infantry were coming up.
9.20 A.. : The two Horse Artillery batteries were

A LAST FIFTY ROUNDS 69

away. Our teams and limbers had corne Ul), ail except
one team of C attery. We waited for the colonel to
give the word.
Suddenly the "chug-chug-chug" of a motor-cycle- a
despatch-rider from Division! The colonel tore open
the euvelope. "A ]attery Limber-up and retire,"
he ordered; " B and D will follow."
"The French artillery has becn stopped," he explained
shortly. "We are going to make the stand at B4than-
court, three mlles farther bacl«"
An ofiïcer of C Battery ran across to say that through
the binoculars grey ïorms could be seen in the belt of
trees opposite.
The colonel's eyes gleamed. " Got any ammunition
left after filling up the limbers ?" he asked quickly.
"Yes, sirabout fifty rounds."
"Right ; give it 'em, and then pull out at once."
The officer saluted and hurried off. The colonel
lighted a cigarette and stood under a tree. "One of
the most ditIicult things fo decide upon in war," he
soliloquised, "is to know the exact moment at which
fO " »
retire.
The sharp crack of C's 18-pdrs. firing fifty rounds
as fast as the guns could be loaded. Then silence.
Still no sign of the missing team of horses. A cor-
poral went by at the gallop to find out what had
happened.
The colonel was now on the ridge searching the trees
opposite with his glasses. Three guns had been limbered
up. Every other battery had gone. The battery com-
mander looked puzz]ed and almoyed. "The guns that
are ready can more off," said the colonel calmly. "An
ofiïcer is to wait here until the team arrives to take
away the other gun."

70 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

Even as the three guns took the road the missing team
and limber came out of the village.
"The off-leader had cast a shoe, and they had te send
back for the farrier, sir," reported the corporal.
"Good," observed the colonel, "but seine of you
fellows will have te remember that there's a war on, and
put more 'nip' into your work."

71

IX. FASTER AND FASTER

11 ,.M. : It needed cool counsels and a high and stead-
fast faith during the next twenty-four hours. The
sunken track along which our own and other British
Artillery brigades were retreating was full of ruts and
choked with dust, and we thanked our stars that the
weather had held. That road churned into the mud-
slime to which a few hours' rain could change it, would
have become impassable for wheeled traffic. But the
chier trouble was that the French " 75's" coming up to
relieve us had had to turn and go back the saine way as
ourselves. For the best part of a mlle both sides of the
narrow roads were occupied, and only patience, forbear-
ance, and steady command eased the block. The Boche
could not be far behind, and there vas just a possibility
that we might be trapped with little chance of putting
up a fight. It was a lovely day again, baking hot, and
the birds were singing their gayest; but most of us felt
savagely doleful. "I hope it is a strategic retreat," said
Fentiman viciously, "but we've had no letters and no
papers for days, and we know ]31ink All of what's going
on. A strategic retreat is all right, but if the fellow
behind follows you close enough to keep on kicking your
tail hard all the time, you may retreat farther than you
intend. "When the Boche retreated last year we never
got close enough to kick his tail--damn him."

72 PUSHED, AND THE RETURbI PUSH

Two welcome diversions! The road at the point we
had now reached rose to the level of the stubble-fields,
and three batteries of " 75's," with much " Zree-ing " of
the horses, pulled off the track and ruade across the fields
to another roadwoEy. At the same time the "heavies"
woke up, and the sound of the big shells grunting
through the air above our heads and on towards the
enemy who pursued us was très agrdable.
When we reached the village of ]34thancourt we
round two brigades of out divisional infantry already
there. Trenches were being dug, and our B Battery had
pulled their six guns behind the toile-long ridge that
ran southward from the village. The colonel joined
our brigadier, who was conferring with the two Infantry
brigadiers and the G.S.O.I., and as a result of this war
council, D ]3attery was ordered to continue the march and
take up a reserve position on the next ridge, two mlles
farther back, south of the village of Caillouel. A and
C, the composite battery, would corne into action along-
side B.
Telephone lines were run out from the two batteries
to look-out posts on the top of the ridge 700 yards away,
and the colonel ordered firing af the rate of one round a
minute, ttalf a dozen " ï 5 " batteries were being loosed
off with what always looks like gay abandon on the part
of the French gunners. Young ]3ushman was whisked
off to inform the staff captain, now at Caillouel, of the
batteries' new positions, so that ammunition supply
should be kept up We then awaited developments.
The view westwards from the Béthancourt ridge that
day provided one of the most picturesque panoramas of
the retreat. The centre of Béthancourt, ridded the
night before of its civilian inhabitants, was chock-a-block
with troops and military traffic; and the straight road

FASTER AND FASTER 73

that led down into the valley, across the stream, and up
again to Caillouel, was a two-mile ribbon of blue and
khaki, and waggons and lorries, and camp kitchens--
sometimes moving, oh, so slowly ! once at a standstill for
over an hour. A long way to the rig-ht high rocks and
thick masses of dark trees rose, aloof; below them, thou-
sands of horses and hundreds of supply and ammunition
waggons, some halted in lines, some making slowly across
the valley towards Caillouel. Directly in front of us
more horses, more waggons. A road at the foot of the
valley wound away to the left and thon round behind
the Caillouel ridge. The valley would have served
admirably for a field-day in home training.
The colonel called Major Bullivant and pointed out
that the stream at the bottom was crossed by only one
bridge, that over which the main road ran. " If you are
relying on that bridge for a withdrawal you will cor-
tainly be cut off. ¥ou'd botter eut down some trees
and make a bridge directly behind your battery. Of
course, there's the road round by the left, but it will be
best to have another way."
1 ..- A cavalry officer, hot and dusty, came up and
said ho had hurried back because some of our artillery
tire was dropping dangerously :ear the French infantry.
The colonel and ho ruade a joint inspection of maps, and
the cavalry otficer pointed out certain spots which we
still held.
"That's all right," replied the colonel. " My batteries
are not firing on that part, but I will pass word round."
And he sent me to some neighbouring batteries to explain
and to warn.
An infantry runner came to ask the colonel if ho
would go across to sec the Infantry brigadier. "More
moving," said the colonel when ho returned. "We are

74 PUSHED, AID THE RETURI PUSH

to fall back on Caillouel now. Will you get back and
see that telephone wire is brought up? You know
where D Battery have gone; the other batteries will
corne into line with them. You can keep tt.Q. waggon
line just behind Caillouel."
I rode off, accompanied by Beadle of A ]attery, still
dressed in overcoat and pyjamas. The stream of retreat-
ing traffic on the road between Bçthancourt and Caillouel
was thicker than ever; the centre of Caillouel was as
lacked as a Fen village during a hiring fair; the divisional
horse-master, the C.R.E., and the D.A.Q.M.G. were among
the oflïcers trying to sort out the muddle ; and in front of
the Mairie, like a policeman on point duty, stood a per.-
spiring staff captain. "That'll mean the Military Cross
at least," grinned Beadle. "Life's very hard sometimes,
isn't it ?"
3 I.M. • The batteries were now in positi. on Caillouel
ridge, and one brigade of the Divisional Infantry had
arrived and commenced to dig. " I must have turned
up hall France since we started this retreat," growled
one swarthy private, resting on his pick. "And I was a
navvy before the war, and joined up for a change."
I stood by the composite battery and saw four of the
waggons corne up with ammunition. They had had to
climb a long punishing slope over meadow-lands and
orchards, and the last rive hundred yards was across
ploughed fields. The horses were blowing hard. "They've
kept their condition well, considering the work they have
had to do this last four days," remarked I)umble. "I
hope the Supply Column won't rail us, though. The
horses want as much corn as they can get now."
"Well, the A.S.C. have had plenty of practice getting
up supplies this last three years. They ought to be
able to keep touch with us, however irregular our move-

FASTER AND FASTER 75

ments--and M'Klown is a pretty smart fellow," I
answered.
" lather amusing just now to recall that'Truth' a
short while ago was saying there were too many horses
in the Fieht Artillery, isn't it?" went on Dumble.
"They said one team a battery to pull the guns into
position from off the road would be enough, and that
motor-traction could do the rest. Never mind; the old
horse has earned his keep these last few days, hasn't
he ?"
" Look here," he added, "corne along with me and l'll
show you a find. You're thirsty, aren't you ?"
"I shall say a grand Amen if you offer me a drink,"
said I, taking a deep breath.
" Well, corne along--there's a cellar full of cider in
this house here. l've left a man in charge to see there's
no hanky-panky. I'm giving my men some, but under
surveillance, lo one allowed more than a pint."
It was the coolest, best-tasting cider I bave ever
drunk, not too sweet, not too tart. A gunner tipped up
the barrel and poured it into a dilapidated-looking enam-
elled mug. How good it was! I quaffed hall a pint
at a gulp, and said "lather !" when asked if I would
bave more.
"Glad you liked it," said Durable. "I must confess
that that was my third."
The General, suave, kcen-eyed, and pleasant-spoken,
came up with the colonel and the brigade-major as we got
back to the battery. The General spoke encouragingly
to most of us, and told the subalterns that gunnery rules
were as important in this sort of warfare as on the drill-
ground. " But don't forger that a cool head and com-
mon-sense are as good assets as any," he added.
We were looking now from the Caillouel ridge towards

76 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

the :P, dthancourt ridge, which we had occupied in the fore-
noon,--another fine landscape with a vast plain to the
right which was being keenly vatched for enemy move-
ment. My signalling-sergeant had run out a telephone
line about 600 yards in front of the composite battery,
and the General, the colonel, and the brigade-major went
along to the O.P. to see Major tartlett register his guns
on certain points where the General thought it likely
the enemy would collect.
The report that our Irigade was to be relieved and
our guns taken over by our companion brigade, who had
lost practically all their guns on the '21st, became more
than a report when Colonel -- and his battery com-
manders assembled to meet the General. One of the
battery commanders, a new-corner to the Brigade, was a
well-known golfer whom I had last seen tighting a most
exciting match in the 1914 amateur championship at
Sandwich. tte laughed when he recognised me. "A bit
of leave and a bit of golf would be a nice change now, eh ?
I'm afraid we shan't know what leave is for a long time,
though, tut do you know what I did the last rime I
was on leave and had a few rounds over my home
course-- ? "
Iut the return of the General prevented my knowing
the golf exploit he was going fo tell me. The colonel
called me for further instructions.
"The rd I-rigade are taking over out guns to-morrow
norning ai 6.30," he said. "I shall stay here until then
with General  (the ]nfantry brigadier), l'Il keel
young :Bushman with me, and my groom with our horses.
You had better remain ai the waggon line and keep in
touch with the battery waggon lines. Will you send up
my British warm when you gel back, some sandwiches
for :Bushman and myself, and my Thermos flask ?"

FASTER AND FASTER 77

The almost paralysing block of traffic between Béth-
ancourt and Caillouel had thinned out now. It was easy
enough also to move along the road from Caillouel to
Grandru, whither three hours ago I had despatched H.Q.
wag.gons fo get them out of the way. For two hours,
also, there had been a marked cessation of hostile tire.
And as I rode towards Grandru I thought of those reports
of big British successes at Ypres and at Cambrai. They
seemed feasible enough. What if they were true, and
what if the offensive on this front had been checked
because oï the happenings orth ? It was a pleasant
thought, and I rather hugged it.
Luter there was grim proof that the lull merely meant
that the Hun was bringing up his guns and putting in
fresh divisions to buffet and press out tired worn men.
5 I.M. : When [ reached Grandru and sat down in a
hay-field while my servant brought me a cup of tea and
some bread and cheese, I gave my mind to a rive minutes'
reconstruction of the incidents and aspects of the last
four days. It had all been so hurried, and each par-
ticular emergency had demanded such complete concen-
tration, that it was more than difficult to realise that so
short a rime had elapsed since the German hordes began
their rush. I longed to see a newspaper, to read a lucid
and measured account of the mighty confiict in which
out brigade, the centre of my present workaday world,
could only bave played such a tiny part. I longed for a
chance to let my friends in England know thai all was
well with me. tt.owever--
The regimental sergeant-major had established the
H.Q. horse lines in a oadside field just outside the
village. I wouldn't let him unload the waggons, but
the brigade clerk, devout adherent of orderliness and
routine, had already opened the brigade oflïce in the

78 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

first cottage on the right of the village street, while the
cook was in possession next door. It was the first village
we had corne to during the retreat, whence all the civi]ian
inbabitants had hot fled, and the cook talked of fresh
eggs for breakfa,st. I shaved and had a ,¢crub down, put
on a c]ean collar, and gained a healthier outlook on life
generally. I sent out the four cycle orderlies to scout
around and find the battery waggon lines, which I knew
were coming to this vicinity, and the A.S.C. supply officer
rode up and discussed the best place for unloading the
morrow's food and forage for the brigade. Thi» settled,
I rote out the formal information for the batteries, and
then decided to stroll round the village before dinner.
" l've got a rabbit for your dinner to-night, sir," called
the cook from his kitchen door, "a fresh rabbit." So I
promised to be back by 8 o'clock.
When I came back there was an a-kward surprise.
All out waggons had been shifted and a French heavy
battery were hauling their howitzers up the incline that
led from the road to the field. The senior French oflicer
was polite but firm. He was sorry to disturb us, but
this was the most suitable spot for his howitzers to tire
from.
The sergeant-major asked me whether I would like to
shift the horses to such-and-such a spot in the field, but
[ said "o" to that. "These guns will be firing all
night, and the horses will be only thirty yards away from
them. They'll have no test whatever, and they want
every minute they can get. No, the Brigade are coming
out of action to-morrow morning. We'll shift out waggon
line right away to the other side of the village. Saddle-
up at once, and get away before it is dark. Move well
away from the village while you are about it, and camp
by the roadside."

FASTER AND FASTER 79

The eook looked glum and said my rabbit was eooked
to a turn. "Keep if for me until we get settled down
again," I said. I posted L cycle orderly to wait at the
spot we were leaving, so as to re-direct messengers u'riv-
ing from Division or from the colonel; the brigade clerk
asked to be allowed to stay behind until the three other
orderlies returned from the batterieshe wouldn't feel
justified in leaving before then, he assured me. It was
8.15 P.. when out little proeession headed by the ser-
geant-major passed through the village.
I had sent my horses pu, and if was on the point of
darkness when I strode through the village, tome way
behind the eolumn. A few olfieers of the Pioneer battalion
that was moving out any moment stood at open doorways,
and a group of drivers waited near the bridge ready fo
harness up their mules. Three aged women dressed in
faded black, one of them carrying a bird-eage, had eome
out of a cottage and walked with feeble ungainly step
towards the bridge. A couple of ancient men, pushing
wheel-barrows piled high with household goods, followed.
Out of the distance came the brooding whine of an
approaehing howitzer shell. A mighty rush of air, a
blinding flash, and an appalling crash. An 8-ineh had
fallen in the middle of the street.
A running to and fro; a heartrending, whimpering
ery from one of the women; and groans and curses
farther up the street. Noue of the poor terror-strieken
old people were hurt, thank God! but three of the
drivers had been hit and two mules killed outright.
The men were quiekly lifted into the shelter of the
nearest bouse, and the eivilian refugees took cover in
a doorway just before the second shell tore a great rent
in the village green on the other side of the britge.
Five shells fell in ail, and an offieer afterwards tried

80 PUSHED, AND THE IETURN PUSH

to persuade the old women to take a lift in a G.S.
waggon that was about to start. But they refused to
leave their men, who would not abandon the wheel-
barrows. When I walked away the rive were again
beginning their slow hazardous pilgrimage to the next
village.
1 1 '.M. : That night I lay rolled up in a blanket at the
foot of a tree. The H.Q. waggon line was duly settled
for the night when I arrived--horses " hayed-p" and
most of the men asleep on the ground. The cook
iasisted on producing the boiled rabbit, and I are it,
sitting on the shaft of the mess cart. I arranged with
the N.C.O. of the piquet to change every two hours the
orderly posted at the spot we had left so hurriedlyL-it
was only ten minutes' ride on a cyclewand kept another
sentry on the watch for messengers who might corne
searching for us. It was again a beautiful clear night,
with a resplendent lnoon; a few long-range shells
whizzed over, but none near enough to worry us; a
pioneer party worked right throtgh the night, putting
up a stout line of barbed wire that went within thirty
yards of where I lay; retreating baggage-waggons,
French and British, passed along the road; restless
flashes along the eastern skyline showed out guns in
active defence.
I cannot say that I slept. The ground was hard, and
if got very cold about 2 A.M. I could hear the sergeant-
major snoring comfortably on the straw palliasse he had
managed to "commandeer" for himself. At about
3 .M. my ear caught the "chug-chug" of a motor-
cycle. It came nearer nd then stopped, and I heard
the rider and our sentry talking. I got up and found
it was the DivisionaI Artillery signalling-officer.
"P, ather important," he said, without preamble.

FASTER AND FASTER 81

"The General says it is essential to get all transport
vehicles over the canal to-night. There's bound to be
a hell of a crush in the morning. Headquarters ll.A.
will be at Varesnes by to-morrow morning, so I should
move as far that way as you can. l've just corne over
the canal, and there are two ways of crossing from here.
I think you'll find the Appilly route the least crowded.
The great thing is to hurry. I'm going to look for the
colonel now. l'll tell him you are moving."
We bade each other " Good-night." While the horses
were being hooked in, I scribbled an order explaining
the situation, and instructing ail battery waggon lines
to more towards Varesnes at once. I knew that in
view of the 6.30 A.I. relief by the --rd Brigade, horses
would be sent up for the ofiïcers and men at the guns,
and it was possible that the guns would now be brought
back from the Caillouel ridge before that time. The
]oche was clearly coming on once more.
Cycle orderlies sped away with the notes, and I was
sending a signaller on a cycle to tell the sentry posted
ai Grandru to rejoin us, when I discovered that the
brigade clerk had not yet turned up. I told the
signaller to send him along as well.
Two of the orderlies returned and reported that B
and D Batteries had received my instructions and had
started. With the return of the next orderly I ex-
plained where we were to go to the sergeant-major,
and told him to move off. I would corne long behind
with the others.
To my astonishment the signaller and the sentry came
back without the brigade clerk. ': Can't find him any-
where, sir," said the signaller. "Didn't you see him
while you were there ?" I asked the orderly who ha.d
been doing sentry. " o, sir. I saw no lights in that

82 PUSHED, AND TttE RETURN PUSH

bouse where the office was, and there's no one there
rlOW o
This was something unexpected, not to say perturb-
ing. I turned to one of the cycle orderlies who stood
by. " Go back and make a thorough search for Brier-
cliffe. Don't corne back until you are satisfied he's not
in the village. ]'11 wait here. You others, except one
cyclist, go on and catch up the column."
A quarter of an hour, twenty minutcs, hall an hour!
The orderly returned alone. "I can't find Briercliffe,
sir. l've been into every house in Grandru. ]-Ie's hOt
there."
I couldn't understand it. The amazingly conscien-
tious, thoroughly correct, highly eiïïcient ]riercliffe to
be missing. " I can't wait any longer," I said, mount-
ing my horse. "He's quite wide awake and should be
all right. We'll get on."

83

X. THE SCRAMBLE AT VARESNES

4 A.M. : For the best part of a toile my groom and 1 had
the moonlit road to ourselves. We passed at the walk
through the stone-flagged streets of Babceuf, our horses'
hoofs making clattering echoes in what might have been
a dead city. Along the whole length of the tortuous
main street were only two indications that there was lire
behind the closed doors and fastened shutters. Two
French soldiers, leaning against a wall and talking,
moved away as we rode up; then a door banged, and
all was quiet. Once, too, a car ran stealthily across
and startled my horse: I remember that distinctly,
because it was the first car I had seen since coming
back to the fighting area.
At the junction, where the way from Babceuf joined
the main road that ran parallel with the canal, stood a
single British lorry. A grey-headed lieutenant, who was
lighting a cigarette, came up when I hailed him, and
told me our waggons had passed. He had pointed out
the way, and they had gone to the left. "The first
turning on the right after that will bring you to the
bridge," he ended.
Our column was now moving along one of France's
wonderful main roads--perfectly straight, tree-bordered,
hall its width laid with pavé. On either side good-sized
villas, well-kept front gardens, "highly desirable resi-

84 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

dences "--comfortable happy homes a week before, now
shattered, silent, deserted. The ,'oad as we followed it
led direct fo the battle-front.
We had gone a mlle past the railway station, and were
in open country, and had sill to reach the first turning
fo the right. I asked the sergeant-major to trot ahead
and let lne know how mucb farther we had to go. "Over
a toile yet, sir," was his report.
At last, however, a sign-post loomed up, a,d we struck
right along a track that led over dreary waste lands.
]3efore long we were forging through a damp clinging
mist, that obviously came fro,n the canal. Somewhere
near the point towa,'ds which we were lnaking, shells
fro,n a ]3oche big gun were exploding with dull heavy
boomings. I sent the sergeant-major orward again, and
he came back with the bewildering report, "We're on the
wrong rond, sir!"
"Wrong rond !" I repeated. " What do you mean ?"
« There are so,ne French lorries in front, sir, and the
sentry won't open the bridge gares to let them cross."
I felt puzzled and angered, and rode forward to
tluestion the French sently. Half a dozen protesting
lorry-drivers stood round him.
Tbe bridge did lead to Varesnes, he admitted, but it
was only a light bridge, and he had orders to allow no
military trafiic over it. I became almost eloquent in
describing the extreme lightness of my vehicles; but a
sous-ojficier stepped out of a little hut and said be was
sorry, the orders were very strict, a,,d he could hot open
the gares. The bridge we wanted was approached by
the next turning to the right, off the main rond. He
assured me that it was a much better way, and, in any
case, he couldu't open the gares.
There was n2thing else for i" we ruade the long

THE SCRAMBLE AT VARESNES 85

tedious journey back, out of the fog and into it again,
and so got on the right track.
Wearines through lack of sleep and the dampness
of the air ruade one feel chil]y, and I got off my
horse and walked. The horses stepped out mechanic-
ally; the men had lost their chirpiness. There was a
half-hour or so when I felt melancholy and depressed:
the feeling of helplessness against the triumphant
efficiency of the Boche got on one's nerves. Vasn't
this talk of luring him on a myth ? Why was he
allowed to sweep forward at this overpowering pace,
day after day, when each of out big advances had been
limited to one hard, costly attack--and then stop ? I
quickened my step, and walked forward to where A
Battery moved along the saine road.
"Hullo, Durable," I said. " ¥ou and C are running
as separate batteries again, aren't you ? How did you
leave the cider-cellar ?"
"We came back from there at about 5 P.M. There
was a big discussion as to whether we should corne
farther back. The colonel wanted to stay, and the --rd's
B Battery were in action there until four this morn-
ing. It was a Divisional decision that there should be
a retirement to the next ridge. The poor old infantry
were fed to the teeth. They'd sweated blood digging
trenches all day on the Caillouel ridge, and then in the
evening had to fall back and start digging again.
" Have you seen the colonel ? " I asked.
"He was still there with General when we
came away. The --rd relieved us last night, instead
of first thing this morning; and we got down to
Grandru, and had three hours' sleep before your note
arrived."
" Battery's pretty done, I suppose ? "

86 PUSHED, AND THE RETUR:N PUSH

"Well, it was just about time we came out of action.
Men and horses would have been all-in in another day."
We crossed the fine broad canal, watcbed by the
lrench soldiers guarding the bridge. Dumble was silent
for some seconds, and then muttered, "You know, I hate
tobe coming back like this with the French looking on."
"Yes, I know," I replicd,--"but they are good
soldiers, and they understand."
"Yes--when I think of poor old tIarville, and the
fight he put up----" he broke off'; and we trudged
along.
"Do you know Harville always kept that speech of
Beatty's in his pocket-book, that speech where he said
England would have to be chastened and turn to a new
way of lire before we finished the war ? " said Durable
later.
"Yes, he was like that--old Harville," I said quietly.
Over another bridge; and I still walked with Durable
at the head of his battery. There was a long wait while
a line of French waggons moved out of out way. Some
of the men were yawning with the sleepiness that cornes
from being cold as well as tired. We were now on the
outkirts of a village that lay four mlles from Varesnes.
"What do you say if we stop at this place and go
on after a test?" said Durable. I agreed.
I put Hcadquarter waggons and horses inti an orchard,
and round a straw-loft where the men could lie down.
It was six in the morning, and I told the sergeant-
major to have breakfast up at 7.30. There was a
cottage opposite the orchard; some French soldiers
were inside breakfasting. As I looked through the
window I felt I would give anything for a sleep. The
old housewife, a woman with a rosy Punch-like face,
waited on the men. I asked her if she would let me

THE SCRAMBLE AT VARESNES 87

bave a room. She demurred a while, said everything
was dirty and in disorder: the French sous-oicier was
not gone yet. Then I think she noticed how fagged I
was. In two minutes my servant had brought my valise
in. " I'm going to take my clothes off," I said, "but
don't let me sleep after 7.30."
7.30 ,.M.: I woke to find the sun streaming through
the window. The booming of guns sounded nearer than
before. I got off the bed and looked out. The fifty
Headquarter men were breakfasting or smoking. Some-
thing prompted me- I had the feeling that we ought to
leave the village at once. I shouted through the window
for the sergeant-major. The column could be ready to
move in a quarter of an hour, he answered. My servant
brought me a change of boots and leggings, and I shaved.
"Won't you wait and have breakfast, sir ?" asked the
sergeant-major. "No. t'ack up everything; we'll get
to Varesnes as soon as you are ready."
I went round to see Durable before we started, but he
said he wasn't going to hurry. " l'll let the men have a
proper clean-up and march off about eleven," he decided.
The Headquarter column wound away from the village,
and set out on a long smooth road that ran through a
wood and edged away from the canal. Two toiles from
Varesnes we met the brigade-major. His tired eyes
lighted up when he saw me. "What batteries have
actually got over the canal ?" he questioned. I told
him that A were in the village I had just left. "C and
B are coming round by the l#oyon bridge," he informed
me. "I expect we shall send Headquarters and B on
to Thiescourt to get you out of the way--and give you
some rest." And he nodded and rode on.
It looked as if the German rush was not expected to
go much farther, for Varesnes was the first little town

88 PUSHED, AND TIIE HETURI PUSH

ful]y occupied by civilians that we had corne to. Most
of them were preparing to leave, and roomy French farm
carts, piled high with curious medleys of mattresses,
chairs and tables, clothing, carpets, kitchen utensils,
clocks and pictures, kept moving off. ]3ut chihlren
played about the streets; girls stood and ta]ked to
French and ]3ritish soldiers; and M. le Maire continued
to function.
The colonel, neat and unruftled, but pale with fatigue,
stood waiting in the main thoroughfare as we came in.
I informed him at once where I had left A ]3attery and
what the brigade-major had mentioned. He told me he
had remained with the Infantry brigadier until 6.30 ...,
the hour at which Colonel----of the--rd had formally
to relieve him; and he had only just crossed the canal.
The infantry were still falling back. "l've lost Laneridge
and my two horses," he added, shaking his head. " Lane-
ridge missed me in the fog when I sent for him, and I'm
hall afraid he went towards the Hun lines. It was very
puzzling to get your bearings up there this morning. I
walked ])art of the way here and got a lift in a lorry."
9.30 ..M. : The colonel had seen the C.R.A. and received
instructions about continuing the march. We were going
on another ten toiles to the place which a week ago was
to have become the test area for Divisional Headquarters.
I had corne across a section of the D.A.C. who had arrived
the night before and secured a billet, and they gave the
colonel and myself breakfast. I had discovered ]3
]3attery's mess in another cottage, every officer deep in a
regular Rip Van Winkle slumber that old of long arrears
of sleep. And I had been greatly cheered by the sudden
appearance, mounted on a horse, of Briercliffe, the miss-
ing brigade clerk, tIe explained his absence. When
one of the orderlies returned to Grandru, saying he

THE SCRAMBLE AT VARESNES 89

couldn't find B Battery's waggon lines, the admirable
Briercliffe had retorted that they must be found, and he
went in quest of them himself. Then when he heard
the sudden order to cross the canal he had the common-
sense to corne along with B Battery.
Neither C Battery nor A Battery had yet arrived.
The colonel, having shaved, felt ready for the fray again,
dictated the route-march orders, and told me to fix 11.30
ri.M. as the time of starting. Fortunately his horses
and his groom had turned up. The traffic down the
min street, with its old-fashioned plaster bouses, its
squat green doors, and the Mairie with its railed double-
stone steps, was getting more congested. Infantry trans-
port and French heavy guns were quickening their pace
as they came through. The inhabitants were moving out
in earnest now, hot hurriedly, but losing no time. A
group of hatless wolnen stood har,nguing on the Mairie
steps; a good-looking girl, wearing high heels and
bangles, unloaded a barrow-load of household goods into
a van the Maire had provided, and hastened honte
with the barrow to fill it again; a sweet-faced old dame,
sighless, bent with rheumatism, pathetic in her helpless
resignation, sat on a wicker-chair outside her doorway,
waiting for a farm Cal't to take ber away- by her side, a
wide-eyed solemn-faced little girl, dressed in her Sunday
best, and trying bravely not to cry.
10.15 ... • The colonel met me in the street; he had
just corne from seeing the C.R.A. again. "Better tell B
and D :Batteries to more off at once, :B leading, ttead-
quarters can start as well. It will be best to get out of
this place as quickly as possible. The enemy is coming
on fast, and there will be an awkward crush shortly."
11 n.. : The Boche machine-guns could be heard now
as plainly as if they were iïghting along the canal banks.

90 PUSHED, AND THE RETUR:N PUSH

B Battery had marched out with their waggons, ttead-
quarters behind them. I stood with the colonel in the
sqmre to watch the wbole brigade go through. Young
Bushman had ridden off towrds the canal to seek news
of C P)attery.
And now the first enemy shell" a swishing rush of
air and a vicious crack--a 4"2 H.V. It fell two streets
from us. Another and another followed. Shouts from
behind! The drivers spurred their horses to a trot.
Clouds of dust rose. Odd civilians alternately cowered
against the wall and ran panting for. the open country,
making frightened cries as each shell came over. A
butcher's cart and a loaded market cart got swept into
the hurrying military traffic.
"I don't like this," muttered the colonel, frowning.
" It would be stupid to have a panic."
On the Mairie steps I could sec M. le Maire ringing
a hand-bell and shouting some sort of proclamation.
With a certain dignity, and certainly with little ap-
parent recognition that shells were falling close, he
descended the steps and strode along the street and
through the square, all the rime determinedly shaking
his bell. As he passed, I asked him gravely why he
rang the bell. tic stared over his glasses with astonish-
ment, responded simply "Pour partir, m'sieur," and
walked on, still ringing. A bizarre incident, but an
instance of duty, highly conceived and carried out to
the end.
A colonel of one of our Pioneer battalions rode by
and hailed the colonel. "We seem to be driving if
pretty close," he said. "There's a lot more artillery
to cross yet, and they are shelling the bridge hard.
Which way do you go from here ?"
" l've got two batteries to corne, and I'm afraid one

THE SCRAMBLE AT VARESNES 91

of 'em's still over the bridge," responded the colonel.
"We go fo Thiescourt from here."
1 1.31 .¢.M. : I) Battery was passing now, with A hot
far behind. The stream of trattic making for beyond
the town was continuous as ever, but the shelling had
quietened, aud the horses were kept at the walk. The
colonel stood and accepted the salures of his batteries,
and criticised points of turn-out and horse-mastership
as though he were making an ordinary route-march
inspection. And this compelling them to think of
something other than the plysical dangers around and
behind them, had its moral effect upon the men. They
held themselves more erect, showed something of pride
of regiment and race, and looked men fit and worthy to
fight again.
Civilians were still hurrying out of the town. A
family passed us, the husband in his best sui of dull
black, top-hat, and white tie and all, pushing a peram-
bulator loaded with clothes, household ornaments, and
cooking requisites, his three children dragging ai their
mother's skirts and weeping piteously. A fine-looking
vieillard, with clean-cut waxen features and white
flowing moustaches, who wore his brown velvet jacket
and sombrero with an air, walked by erect and slow,
taking what he could of his belongings on a wheel-
barrow. Even the conjunction of the wheel-barrow
could not prevent him looking dignified and resolute.
And a terrier and a young retriever, oblivious of the
tragedy around them, gambolled up and down the Mairie
steps and chased each other across the street.
12 noon" Bigger shells had begun to fall, and still
C Battery had not corne. The colonel glanced at his
watch. One shell came near enough to send a chinmey-
pot and some slates clattering to the ground, making a

92 PUSHED, AND THE RETURIN PUSH

pair of water-cart horses plunge wildly ; a French soldier
was kflled ïarther down the street. An oficer cantered
by and directed a Horse Artillery battery that had
passed a ïew minutes beïore, and had a clear hall-toile
of road in front of it, to break into a trot. Voices in
rear could be heard shouting fo those in front to go
faster. Two riderless, runaway wheelers, dragging a
smashed limber-pole, raced after the Horse Artillery
battery. " I'm afraid we shall have to say Good-bye
to C Battery," said the colonel seriously.
I walked to the end of the square and looked down
the road towards the canal. Dust rose in clouds, and
straining horses still came on. Out of the welter I saw
youug Bushman's horse on the pathway coning towards
me. " C Battery's all right," he shouted to me, and a
minute later I heard him explaining to the colouel.
"C Battery's over now, sir. It has been touch-and-
go. Some Horse Artillery in front had a waggon hit,
and that caused a stoppage; and there were a lot of
other waggons in front as well. They are putting shells
all round the bridge now, sir. C Battery have had two
gunners wounded, but they are over now, sir."
C Battery came through ata trot, but the colonel
regarded their general appearance as soldierly. We
remained in the square and saw the tail-end of their
mess cart.
"And now," observed the colonel, lighting a cigarette
and noting the rime, " we may as well gather our horses
and get along ourselves."
" I feel very relieved about C Battery," he said rive
minutes later as we rode along; and he smiled for the
first rime for quite three hours.

93

XI. THE G IN GAP

1 P.M. : For some mlles after leaving Varesnes it was
retreat--rapid, undisguised, and yet with a plan.
Thousands of men, scores of guns and transport
vehicles, hundreds of civilians caught in the last rush,
all struggling to evade the mighty pincers' clutch of
the German masses who, day after day, were crushing
out attempts to rally against their weight and fury.
Unless collectedly, in order, and with intercommuni-
cations unbroken, we could pass behind the strong
divisions hurrying to preserve the precious contact be-
tween French and British, we should be trapped. And
when I say we, I mean the very large force of which
our Brigade formed one tiny part. Not even the
colonel knew much at this moment of the wider
strategy that was being worked out. The plain and
immediate task was to free the Brigade, with its seven
hundred odd men and its horses and waggons, from the
welter of general traffic pouring on to the main roads,
and bring it intact to the village that Division had fixed
as our destination. And as we had now become a non-
fighting body, a brigade of Field Artillery without guns, it
was more than ever our business to get out of the way.
Our men found room for some of the aged civilians
in motor-lorries and G.S. waggons; but I shall always
remember one silver-haired dame who refused to be
separated from the wheel-barrow heaped up with her

9 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

belongings, whieh she was pushing te a place seven
mlles away. For seine reason she would net allow a
gunner te wheel the barrow for her. Poor obstinate
old seul! I hope she got away; if she didn't, I
trust the Boche was merciful.
The colonel and I rode through a forest in order te
catch up the batteries. As we emerged frein the wood
we came upon rive brigades of cavalryMthree French
and two British--fresh as paint, magnificently mounted,
ready and waiting. " The most cheering sight we've
seen this morning," remarked the colonel.
We came up with C Battery, and rode at their head.
Despite the spurt to cross the canal, their turn-out was
smart and soldierly, and there was satisfaction in the
colonel's quick, comprehensive glance. Through Pontoise,
another village from which the inhabitants had fled the
day before, and past the outskirts of Noyon, with its
grey cathedral and quaint tower. The evacuation here
had been frantic, and we heard stories of pillage and
looting and of drunken men--not, one is glad to
say it, British soldiers. In all that galling, muddling
week I did hot see a single drunken soldier. As we
were neuf a considerable town, I gave my groom
twenty francs, and told him to buy what food he could:
we might be very short by nightfall. He returned with
some sardines, some tinned tunny fish, and a few biscuits,
the sardines costing rive francs a small tin. Atone
cross-road a dozen American I¢ed Cross cars were drawn
up, and I recall the alacrity of a middle-aged American
doctor, wearing gold pince-nez, in hopping off his ambu-
lance and snapshotting the colonel at the head of the
battery. I wondered bitterly whether that photograph
would subsequently be published unimr the heading,
" British Artillery in Ietreat."

THE G IN GAP 95

2.30 P.{. : The four batteries were now ranged along-
side a railway siding at a point where the road by
which we had journeyed joined the main road to
Compiègne. For several hours this great trafiic artery
had been packed with troops and transport moving to
and from the battle-front. It was hot and dusty,
and our men and horses were glad of the half-hour's
halt, although the respite had only lasted so long be-
cause the traffic on the main route had been too
continuous for us to turn on to it and reach the road
fifty yards farther down along which we had to continue.
Remembering a lesson of the Mons retreat emphasised
by a Horse Artillery major lecturing at Larkhill--that
his horses kept their condition because every time there
was a forced halt near a village he despatched his gun-
nets with the water-bucketstI had told my groom to
search around until he found water for my two horses.
Then I stood under the trees lining the main road and
watched three battalions of French infantry match past,
moving north of the part of the front out brigade had
just left. They were older, smaller, more town-bred
French soldiers than those we had seen during the
two previous days, more spectacles among them, and
a more abstracted expression. The thought came to
me that here must be last-line reserves. Up on the
steep hills that overlooked the railway siding bearded
French troops were deepening trenches and strengthen-
ing barbed wire.
3 P.M.- We were anxious to get on now, and longed
for a couple of (2ity of London trafiïc policemen to stand
in majestic and impartial control of these road junctions.
The colonel and Major Bullivant, after expostulating
rive minutes with a French major, had got our leading
battery across. Then the long line of trafIic on the

96 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

main route resumed its apparently endless flow. An
R.A.M.C. captain came out and stood by as I stationed
myself opposite the road we wanted our three remaining
batteries to turn down, watching fo take quick advantage
of the G in the first possible GAP. "lretty lively here
last night," volunteered the R.A.M.C. captain. " General
scramble to gel out, and some unusual sights. There
was a big ordnance store, and they hadn't euough
lorries to get the stuff away, so they handed out all
mammr of goods fo prevent them bcing wasted. The
men got pretty well cab'te blanche in blankets, boots,
and puttees, and you should have seen them carting off
oftïcers' shirts and underclothing. There was a lot of
champagne going begging too, and hundreds of bottles
were smashed to make sure the men had no chance
of getting blind. And there was an old sapper colonel
who ruade it his business to get hold of the stragglers.
He kept t it about six hours, and bunged scores of
wanderers into a prisoners-of-war cage; then he had
'em marched off to a collecting station. He was hot
stuff, I can tell you."
A gap came at last on the main route, but something
also that wou!d data the opening we had awaited for over
an hour.
A tremendous line of French lorries was moving
towards me on the road opposite. The French officer
in charge had corne forward to reconnoitre the crossing.
Three ]ritish lorries, loading up, also stood on the road
along which we wanted to go. If the French lorries
reached that spot first, our batteries might be held up
another hour. It was a moment for unscrupulous action.
I told my groom to dash off and tcll Major ]artlett to
corne along at the trot; then I slipped across and en-
gaged the French captain in conversation. If I could

THE G IN GAP 97

prevent him signalling back for his lorries to quicken
speed, all would be well. If Major Bartlett failed,
there would be a most unholy mix up near the three
stationary lorries. Major Bartlett responded nobly.
His leading team reached the three lorries while the
first French motor-waggon was still thirty yards away.
The gap between the stationary lorry and the moving
one narrowed to eight yards; but the waggon and six
horses were through, and the battery now commanded
the position with a line of horsed waggons and baggage-
carts stretching back along the fifty yards of the main
road, with A and B Batteries following in column of
route past the railway siding. The line of French
lorries extended back far as the eye could see. The
French officer turned sharply, cursed impatiently, and
asserted volubly that his lorries must corne through.
I explained soothingly what a long rime ve had waited,
and asked his forbearance. ]Ieanwhile C Battery con-
tinued to trot through the gap, and I called Heaven to
witness that the whole of our Brigade would be through
and away before ten minutes passed. I ran back to
urge A and B Batteries to keep up the pace. When
our very last water-cart, mess-cart, and G.S. waggon had
passed, I thanked the lrrench oflicer with great sincerity,
and felt I had done a proper job of work.
4.30 I.M. : We sat by the roadside eating bread-and-
cheese--the colonel, young Bushman, and I. The bat-
teries were well on the way to their destination; and
we three, jogging along in rear, had encouutered Bom-
bardier M'Donald, triumphant at having filled his forage
and rations waggon for yet another day. So we and our
grooms helped ourselves to bread-and-cheese and satis-
fied hefty appetites, and drank the cider with which
Bushman had filled his flask at Caillouel the day before.

98 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

Another of the mournful side-spectacles of the retreat
was being enacted under our eyes. Opposite a small
cottage a cart packed to a great height, but marvellously
balanced on its two huge wheels, stood ready to move
off. A wrinkled sad- eyed woman, perched on top,
held beside her her grandchild- a silent, wondering
little girl. A darkly handsome, strongly-built daughter
had tied a cow to the back of the cart. A bent old man
began to lead the wide-backed Percheron mare that was
yoked fo the shafts with the mixture of straps and bits
of rope that French farm folk find does well enough for
harness. But the cow, bellowing in an abandonment of
grief, tugged backwards, and the cart did not move. The
daughter, proud-eyed, self-reliant, explained that the cow
was calling for her calf. The calf would never be able
to make the journey, and they had been compelled to
sell it, and it would be killed for food. It was hard, but
it was war.
They tried again; but the cow refused to be com-
forted, and tugged until the rope threatened to strangle
her. They brought the ca]f out again and tied him
alongside his now pacified mother; but this time, when
the cart nmved forward, he protested in fear and be-
wilderment, and tried to drag himself free. The cart
was still there when we rode off.
Our way ran through a noble stretch of hilly country,
well wooded, with sparkling streams plashing down the
hillsides--a landscape of uninhabited quiet. Two aero-
planes droned overhead--the first Allied planes we had
seen since the retreat began. "The old :French line,"
observed the colonel, pointing out a wide system of
well-planned trenches, deep dug-outs, and broad belts
of rusted barbed wire. "The ]3oche ought not to get
through here."

THE G IN GAP .99

Up and over a hill, and down into a tiny hamlet
which more stricken civilians were preparing to leave.
As our little cavalcade drew near, a shrinking old woman,
standing in a doorway, drew a frightened little girl
towards her, and held a hand over the child's eyes. " I
believe they took us to be Germans at first," said the
colonel when we had passed.
In another village a woman was trying to nake a cow
pull a heavily-laden waggon up the bill. With streaming
eyes and piteous gestures she besought us to assist with
our horses. She would pay us money. Twice before she
had lost everything through the Boche, she pleaded.
The colonel looked grieved, but shook his head. :' .We'll
send back a pair of draught-horses if we can," was all he
said to me. And we did.
6 '.M.- We had reached Thiescourt, a hillside village
that had thought never fo be threateued by the Germans
again. Dwellings damaged during their last visit had
been repaired. New houses ruade of fine white stone,
quarried in the district, had been built, and were build-
ing. The bitterness of it, if the foul devastating Boche
were to corne again ! There were many evidences of the
hurried flight of the last two days,--torn letters and
papers, unswept fire-grates, unconsumed food and drinks,
beds with sheets in them, drawers hurriedly searched for
articles that could be taken away, disconsolate wandering
dogs. A few days before it had been arranged that the
major-general, his Divisional Staff, Ordnance, the Divi-
sional brass band, and all the usual appurtenances of a
Divisional Headquarters, should corne and make this
village a Divisional rest area. Few even of the first
preparations for visitation were left now. D.A.D.O.S.,
blue-tabbed and business-like, was in the main street,
bewailing the scarcity of lorries for removing his wares

100 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

to an area still farther back. tIe had several rifles h«
would be pleased to hand out to our batteries. There was
a large quantity of clothing which would bave fo be left in
the store he had established. Any we didn't want would
we burn, or drop in the stream before we left ? No
lorry fo remove the Divisional canteen. Would we dis-
tribute the supplies free to our men ? Biscuits, choco-
late, potted meats, tooth-paste, and cigarettes went like
wildfire.
Brigade tI.Q. mess was installed in a new bouse that
had chalked messages scrawled on doors, walls, and
mirrors, telling searching relations and friends the address
in a distant town to which the occupants of the bouse
had fled. In another dwelling that Boche aeroplanes
had already bombed, we discovered sleeping quarters. At
7 '.. a lieutenant on a motor-cycle arrived with Corps
orders for the morrow. We were to leave for Elincourt
immediately the tactical situation demanded it.
We dined early, and sought ot/r beds early too. I had
been asleep two minutes, as I thought--really about an
hour and a half--when Durable woke me up. "Cavalry
are coming through," he said, shining his electric torch
right in my eyes, "and they say the enemy is at Lagny.
ttadn't you better let the colonel know ? "
"No," I retorted with some asperity.
"But listen ; can you hear all that trafiïc ? It's our
infantry coming back."
" Can you hear machine-gun tire ? " I asked resent-
fully.
«« N'O. '
"Well, I'm damned if I disturb the colonel until you
can tell me that, at ]east," I said finally, turning on my
right side.

101

XII. OUT OF THE WAY

THE usual monotonous spectacle when we woke next
morning: the narrow streets of what a few days before
had been a tranquil, out-of-the-war village choked with
worn-out troops marching to go into rest. Now that we
had become a brigade of artillery without guns, a British
non-fighting unit struggling to get out of the way of a
mauoeuvring French army, our one great hope was that
Corps would send us right back to a depot where we could
refit ourselves with fresh guus and reinforcements, to
some spot where we need hot be wondering every rive
minutes whether the enemy was at our heels. Men who
have fought four days and nights on end feel like that
when the straîn of actual battle ceases.
The Boche guns souuded nearer, and the colonel had
ordered a mountèd ofIicer to go back and seek definite
information upon the situation. By 10 A.M. a retiring
French battalion marched through, and reported that the
line was again being withdrawn. ]3y 11 A.. two bat-
teries of "75's" came back. Which decided the colonel
that the tactical situation demanded our departure, and
the Brigade began the march to Elincourt. On past
more evacuated villages. Abandoned farm carts--some
of which our batteries eagerly adopted for transporting
stores and kit--and the carcases of dogs, shot or
poisoned, lyiug by the roadside, told their own story of

102 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

the rush from the Hun. By 1 '.i. we reached Elin-
court, a lnedieval town whose gable-ends and belfry
towers, and straight rows of hoary lime-trees, breathed
the grace and charm of the real France. 1 ruade im-
mediately for the Mairie, bent upon securing billets for
officers and men; but standing at the gateway was a
Corps despatch-rider who handed over instructions for
the Brigade to continue the march to Estree St Denis, a
town twenty kilometres distant.
5 P.M. : Estree St Denis, to which I rode in advance
with a billeting oiiicer from each battery, proved to be a
drab smoky town of mean-looking, jerry-built houses.
One thought instinctively of the grimiest parts of Lanca-
shire and the Five Towns. The wide and interminably
long main street was filled with dust-laden big guns and
heavy hows., four rows of them. Every retreating Divi-
sion in France seemed to be arriving and to be bringing
more dust. Hundreds of refugees from villages now in
Boche possession had corne, too. hat a place to be
sent to! It was useless looking for billets, so I fixed
upon a vast field on the outskirts of the town where we
could establish our horse lines and pitch tents and
bivouacs. This was satisfactory enough, but the water-
ing problem was bound to be difiicult. Four small
pumps in the main street and one tiny brackish pond
totalled the faciliies. It would take each battery an
hour and a half to water its horses. "Corps moves in
most mysterious ways," crooned Stoue. "Why did
they send us here?" We rode and walked until we
were tired, but found nothing that would improve
matters. Then Fentiman, Stone, and I found the Caf
de la Place, and entered the "Officers only" room,
where we sat down to a bottle of wine and devoured
the Continental 'Daily Mail' of March 23, the first

OUT OF THE WAY 103

paper we had seen since starting the retreat. Madame
informed us that some officers of Divisional Headquarters
had turned up the day before and were dining there.
As we went out to go and meet the batteries and lead
them to the waggon lines, there was a shout of recogni-
tion, and " Swiffy" and the little American doctor ran
up, grinning and rather shamefaced. "We thought of
posting you as deserters," I said with pretended serious-
ness, " not having seen you since the afternoon of the
23rd." It was now the 26th. They narrated a long
and somewhat sheepish story that, boiled down, told of a
barri that promised a sound afternoon's nap, an awak-
ening to find every one vanished; then a worried and
wearied tramp in search of us, with nothing to eat
except what they could beg or buy at ruinous prices;
one perturbing two hours when they found themselves
walking into the arms of the oncoming Hun ; and finally,
a confirmed resolve never to stray far from the ]rigade
mess-cart again.
7 P.M.: When the batteries were settled in their
waggon lines, I led the colonel and " Swiffy" and the
doctor through the crowded dusty streets into the Cafd
de la Place. The restaurant was filled with French and
]ritish officers. "Swiffy" insisted on cracking a bottle
of champagne to celebrate the return of the doctor and
himself to the fold; then I spotted Ronny Hertford, the
Divisional salvage officer, who was full of talk and good
cheer, and said he had got his news from the new
G.S.O. II., who had just corne from England, travelling
with a certain politician. " It's all right, old boy,"
bubbled lonny. "The War Office is quite calm about
it now; we've got 'em stone-cold. Foch is in supreme
command, and there are any number of Divisions in
reserve which haven't been called on. We're only wait-

104 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

ing to know if this is the real push, or only a feint, and
then we strike. We've got 'em trapped, old top, no
doubt about that."
" Right-o, strategist !" I retorted in the same vein.
"Do you want to buy a calf, old boy .2" he switched
off. "Look here--there's o,m under the table. About
1 10 lbs. of meat at 3 francs a pound. Dirt cheap these
times. A Frenchnmn has left it with Madame to sell.
We'd buy it for our mess, but we've got a goose
for dinner to-night. Stay and dine with us, old
boy."
Through the glass door that showed into the café one
saw a little group of eivilians, dressed in their Sunday
black, wa.iting for carts to take them from the town. A
mother was suckling a wailing child. An old cripple
nodded his head helplessly over hands propped up by
his stick. A smart young French soldier came in at the
door, and Madame's fair-haired daughter rushed to his
arms and held him while she wept. They talked fast,
and the civilians listened with strained faces. "Her
flanc6," quietly explained an interpreter who came
through the caf6 to join us in the " Otficers only" room.
" He's just corne from Montdidier with a motor-transport.
He says he was fired at by machine-guns, which shows
that the Boche is still co,ning on."
The camp conmandant of the Division, nervously
business-like, the baths' officer, D.A.D.O.S., and a couple
of padres came in. The Camp Commandant refused to
hear of the colonel sleeping in a tent. "We've got a
big dormitory at the back here, sir--thirty wire-beds.
We can put all your Brigade Headquarter officers up."
The colonel protested that we should be quite happy in
bivouacs, but he was overruled.
We dined in a tent in the waggon lines. As I made

OUT OF THE WAY 105

my way there I noticed a blue-painted motor-van, a
mobile French wireless station, some distance away in the
fields. What really caught my eye when I drew near it
was a couple of Camembert cheeses, unopened and un-
guarded, on the driver's seat. I bethought myself that
the operator inside the van might be pemuaded to sell
one of the cheeses. He wasn't, but he was extremely
agreeable, and showed me the evening communiu that
had just been "ticked" through. We became friends,
which explains why for three days I was able to inform
the camp commandant, Ronny Hertford, and all their
party, of the latest happenings at the Front, hours before
the French newspapers and the Continental ' Daily Mail'
arrived.
And what do you think the men of two of out
batteries were doing an hour af ter the camps were
pitched and the horses watered ?--playing a football
match ! Marvellous fellows!
We stayed at Estree until the evening of the 28th,
days of gossip and of fairly confident expectations, for we
knew now that the Boche's first offensive was held
but a rime of waiting and of wondering where we were
fo be sent next. Division was nearly thirty toiles away,
incorporated with the French Army, and still fighting,
while Corps seemed to have forgotten that we needed
supplies. Still there was no need to worry about food
and forage. Estree was an important railhead, and the
supply officer seemed anxious to get his stores distri-
buted as soon as they came in: he was prepared to
treat most comers as fahine-stricken stragglers. Beides,
near the station stood an enormous granary, filled to the
brim, simply waiting to be requisitioned.
About noon on the 28th we were very cast down by
the news that, to meet the demand for reinforcements,

106 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

the Brigade might be disbanded, and the gunners hurried
off in driblets, to make up losses on various parts of our
particular Army's front.
The colonel had instructions to attend a Staff Confer-
ence in the afternoon, and each battery was ordered to
prepare a list of its available gunners.
There were sore hearts that afternoon. Many of the
men had been with the Brigade since it was formed,
and fo be scattered broadcast after doing well, and
coming through a rime of stress and danger together,
would knock the spirit out of every one. The colonel
came back at tea-time, impassive, walking briskly. I
knew before he opened his lips that the Brigade was
saved. "We move to-night fo Pont St Maxence. We
are going on to Poix to refit," was all he said.
Every one was anxious to be off, fearing that the Staff
might change its mind. It rained in torrents that night,
and owing to the Corps' failure to map out proper accom-
modation arrangements, we slept anyhow and anywhere,
but no one minded much. The Brigade was still in
being, and nothing else mattered. I could tell many
stories of the nex few days--marching and billeting
and getting ready for action again; of the village that
no English troops had visited before, and the inhabitants
that feared us, and afterwards did hot want us to leave;
of the frieudly bearded patron of an estaminet, who
flourished an 'Echo de Paris,' and pointed to the words
tdnacité anglaise in an account of the fighting; of the
return of the signalling officer, who, while attending a
course at an Army School, had been roped in to |ead one
of Sandeman Carey's infantry platoons; of the magnifi-
cently equipped casualty clearing station that a week
before the offensive had been twenty-five toiles behind

OUT OF THE WAY 107

the lines, and only got its last patients away two hourB
before the Boches arrived !

April 2nd: A few more new guns had corne in from
the Refitting Depot. We were ahnost complete to
establishment. The horses were out grazing and getting
fat again. Most of the men were hard at it, playing
their eternal football. The colonel came out of the
chateau, which was Brigade Iteadquartes billet, and
settled himself in a deck-chair. He looked sun-tanned
and fit.
" If all colonels were as competent and knowledgeable
as our colonel, we should have won the war by now,"
said Durable as he and I walked away. "What a
beautiful day."
"Yes. Oh to be in England, now that April's here,"
I chimed in.
"Oh to be in England, any bally old time of the year,"
Durable corrected me.

THE RETURN PUS]=[

I. THE DEFENCE OF AMIENS

ON a day towards the end of April the colonel and I,
riding well ahead of the Brigade, passed through deserted
Amiens and stopped when we came upon some fifty
horses, nose- bags on, halted, under the trees along a
boulevard in the eastern outskirts of the city. Officers
in groups stood beneath, or leaned against, the high
wall of a large civil hospital that flanked the road-
way.
Reinforced in guns and personnel, and rested after
the excitements and hazards of the Match thrust-
back, out two brigades of Divisional Field Artillery,
and the D.A.C., were bound again for the Front.
These waiting ofiïcers formed the advance billeting
parties.
"We've been obeying Sir Douglas Haig's Order of
the Day--getting out backs to the wall," growled the
adjurant to me, after he had sprung up and saluted
the colonel. "The staff captain met us two hours
ago at --, but they were shelling the place, and
he said it wouldn't be sale for waggon lines; so
we came on here. He's inside the building now
seeing if he can put the whole Divisional Artillery
there. . .
"l'll ber we shan't be ready for the batteries when
they corne in," he went on gloomily--and then added,

112 IUSHED, AND THE RETURN IUSH

like the good soldier that he is, "My groom will
show you where the horses can water."
A long-range shell, passing high overhead and ex-
ploding among the houses some way behind us, showed
that Amiens was no health resort, tut horse lines
were allotted, and in due course the long corridors of
the evacu.ated building resounded with the clatter-
clatter of gunners and drivers marched in to deposit
their kits. "You've got a big piece of chalk this
morning, haven't you ?" grumbled the adjurant to the
adjutant of our companion Brigade, complaining that
they were portioning off more rooms than they were
entitled to. Still he was pleased to find that the
room he and I shared contained a wardrobe, and that
inside the door was pinned a grotesque, jolly-looking
placard of Harry Tatewmoustache and all--in "tox
o' Tricks." The discovery that a currant cake, about
as large as London, sent a few days before from Eng-
land, had disappeared from our Headquarters' mess-
cart during the day's march, led to a tirade on
the shortcomings of New Army servants, tut he
became sympathetic when I explained that the care-
takers, two sad-eyed ]rench women, the only civilians
we ourselves met that day, were anxious that our men
shou]d be warned against prising open locked doors
and cupboards. "Tell 'cm any man doing that will
be shot at dawn," he said, leaving me to reassure the
womn.
Twenty-four hours later, after another match, our guns
were in position. With pick and shovel, and a fresh
supply of corrugated iron, the batteries were fortify-
ing their habitations; trigade Headquarters occupied
the only dwelling for toiles round, a iny café that
no shell had touched. The colonel had a ground-floor

THE DEFENCE OF AMIENS 113

room and a bedstead to himself; the adjurant and
myself put down our camp-beds in an attic, with the
signalling officer and the American doctor next door, and
H.Q. signallers and servants in the adjoining loft that
completed the upper storey. It was a rain-proof com-
fortable shelter, but the C.R.A. didn't altogether approve
of it. "¥ou're at a cross-roads, with an ammunition
dump alongside of you, and the road outside the front
door is mined ready for blowing up should the Boche
advance this way," he" said grimly, when hê visited us.
" In any case, he'll shoot by the nmp on this spot im-
mediately he starts a battle... I think you oght
to have a retiring headquarters in readiness." So I
put in two days superintending the erection of a little
colony of houses, built of ammunition boxes and corru-
gated iron, hall a mile from the main road. I camou-
flaged the sloping roofs with loose hay, and, ata distance,
our " Garden City" looked like a bunch of small hay-
stacks. We got quite proud of our handiwork; and
there was a strained moment one midday when the
regimental sergeant- major rode hurriedly to the café
with a most disturbing report. Riding along the
main road he had observed a party of men pulling
down our huts, and piling the sheets of corrugated
iron into a G.S. waggon. When he cantered across,
the driver whipped up his horses, and the G.S. waggon
bounded over the open fields for half a mile before the
!
sergeant-major got sufiïciently near to order it to halt.
"They belong to the --st Brigade, sir," the sergeant-
major informed the adjutant," and l've told the sergeant
in charge of the party to consider himself under arrest
until you have seen him."
The adjutant, eye flashing, nostrils dilated, was already
out of the café walking hard, and breathing dire threats
H

I14 PUSHED, AND THE RETURIN PUSI
agaînst the servant who had been posted te guard our
new home. Apparently he had gone away te complain
that the cook was late in sending his dinner.
The sergeant and his assistant "pirates" were restor-
ing the dismantled huts by the time the adjurant and
myself drew near. The sergeant was plainly a disciple
of the " I's all in the saine firm" school. He submitted,
with great respect, that he was innocent of criminal
intent. Ïhere was nothing te show that the buts
were in use . . . and his battery wanted iron for
their gun-pits.
" lqone of your old soldier talk with me," blustered
the adjutant, shaking a ponderous forefinger. "You
knew you were doing wrong.. . Why did you send
the waggon off when you saw the sergeant-major ?"
"I went after it and stopped it when he told me te,
sir," returned the sergeant.
The sergeant-major admitted that, strictly speaking,
this was a correct statement. There was a ten
seconds' pause, and I wondered what the adjutant's
next thrust would be.
"Tho waggon was trotting away, was it?" he
demanded slowly.
"Yes, sir," replied the sergeant.
"And you ruade no attempt te prevent it trotting
until the sergeant-major told you te stop it ? "
"No, sir."
"And you know it's forbidden for waggons te be
trotted except in very exceptional circumstances ?"
"Ye-s, sir."
"Very well, I put you under arrest for contravening
G.R.O. by trotting draught-horses."
"Artful beggar--I know him of old," chuckled the
adjurant, as he and I returned te the café. " He was

THE DEFENCE OF AMIENS 115

a gunner in my battery when I was sergeant-major of
 Battery, :R.H.A."
The Boche was expected to attack on St George's
Day. Our Brigade was defending a reserve line, and
would not tire unless the enemy swept over our first-
lin system. Fresh trenches were being dug, and new
and stout rows of wire entanglement put down. Corps
orders were distinct and unmistakable. The fight here
would be a fight à ott'ance. On March 21 our re-
tirement had been a strategic one. But this Front
had to be held at all costs, and we should throw in
every reserve we had. Only once during our stay in
the café did the adjutant and myself sleep in pyjamas.
"These walls are so thin one 5"9 would knock the whole
place out ; if we have fo clear we may as well be ready,"
he said meaningly. The ridge, three-luarters of a toile
in front of us, was shelled regularly, and every night
enemy bombing planes came over, but, strangely enough,
the Boche gunners neglected our cross-roads; we even
kicked a football about until one afternoon a trench-
mortar ofiïcer misdirected if on to the main road, and
an expressive "" pop !" told of its finish under the wheel
of a motor-lorry. St George's Day, and still no Bocbe
attack! We began to talk of the peaceful backwater
in which we were moored. Manning, our mess waiter,
decorated the stained, peeling walls of the mess with
some New Art picture post-cards. I found a quiet
corner, and wrote out a 'Punch' idea that a demand
for our water-trougbs to be camouflaged had put into
my head. Major ]ullivant, who had succeeded poor
tIarville in the command of A Battery, and Major
Bartlett of C Battery, dined with us that night, and
the best story told concerned an extremely non-military
subaltern, newly attached to the ]:).A.C. When in-

116 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

structed to deliver an important message to " Div.
Arty."--the Army condensation for "Divisional Artil-
lery"whe pored long and hopelessly over a map.
]?inally he appealed to a brother officer. " I can't
find the village of 'DIVAaTY' on the map," he said,
and, of course, sprang into immediate fame through-
out the Division.
April 24- About 4 A.. a shell burst that shook the
cale. Then the steady whistling scream of high-velocity
shclls going overhead. I lighted a candle and looked
ut the adjutant ae he poked his red face and tousled
grey hair from under his blankets. "They've started,"
he muttered solemnly. "The old Hun always shells
the back areas when he attacks."
We got up slowly, and fastened boots and leggings.
"I suppose we ought to put on revolvers," he went on
dubiously, and then added with sudden warmth, "I hope
he gets it in the neck to-day."
Our telephone pit in the cellar below the café was
alive with industry. Our battëries were hot firing, but
the colonel had already asked the battery commanders
whether any shells, particularly gas shells, had corne
their way. A couple of 4"2's had landed close to
C ]attery, but they seemed to be stray shots; it did
not seem likely that the enemy knew where the batteries
were sited. The Boche bombardment continued.
After breakfast, a 5"9 exploding 200 yards from our
café, blew out the largest pane in the unshuttered
window. Shells had dropped by now in most spots
around us; but the cross-roads remained untouched. A
cyclist orderly from our waggon line, two mlles back,
brought news that a direct hit had blown the telephone
cart to bits; fortunately, neither man nor horse had
been touched. The adjutant was outside exhorting four

THE DEFENCE OF AMIENS 117

infantry stragglers fo try and find their units by return-
ing to the battle line. A Royal Fusilier, wounded in
the head, had fainted while waiting ai the cross-roads
for an ambulance; our cook had lifted him on fo a
bench inside the caf( and was giving him tea. The
colonel, who remained in the mess, in telephone touch
with the brigadier-general, C.R.A., and the brigade-
major, had never seemed so preoccupied. Days after-
wards, he confided to me that whcn the Hun bombard-
ment started he feared a repetition of the overpowering
assault of March 21.
"They had tanks out to-day," a boy captain of
infantry, his arm in a sling, told me, as he climbed
into a motor ambulance. " ]y Gad, I saw a topping
sight near Villers Bretonneux. The ]oche attacked in
force there and pushed us back, and one of his old
tanks came sailing merrily on. But j ust over the
crest, near a sunken road, was a single 18-pdr.; it
didn't tire until the ]oche tank climbed into view on
top of the crest. Then they let him have it at about
100 yards' range. Best series of upper-cuts l've ever
seen. The old tank sheered off and must have got it
hot." I learnt afterwards that this was a single gun
detachment belonging to our companion brigade, who
had been pushed forward as soon as news cane that
the enemy was being held.
]y tea-time we ourselves had been ordered forward
to relieve a brigade that had suffered considerably in the
opening stages of the assault. And, after all, we didn't
occupy the "Garden City" headquarters I had been at
such pains to build. We handed it over to the brigade
we were relieving, and their colonel congratulated our
colonel on his forethought.
The colonel decided that only the doctor, the ignal-

118 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

ling officer, and myself should go forward. The adjutant
could settle at the waggon lines and occupy himself with
reinforcements, clothing, and salvage returns, Army
Form B 213, watering and forage arrangements, and
suchlike administrative duties. :My task would be the
" Forward " or "G" branch--i.e., assisting the colonel
with the details of his fighting programmes.
The colonel and I lay down that night in a hole
scooped out of a chalk bank. The corrugated iron
above out heads admitted a draught at only one corner;
as our sleeping-bags were spread out on a couple of
spring mattresses, moved by some one at some rime
from some neighbouring homestead, we could hot coin-
plain of lack of comfort.
April 24 was the last day on which out Brigade
awaited and preiared to meet a Boche attack of the
first magnitude. But it was not until the month of
July that any of us conceived, or dared to believe in,
the possibility of his mighty armies being forced upon
the defensive again.
During :May and June we accepted it that out rôle
would be to stick it out until the Americans came along
en masse in 1919. The swift and glorious reversal of
things from August onwards surprised no one more than
the actual fighting units of the British armies.

119

II. THE RED-ROOFED HOUSE

WE'RE doing an attack to-morrow morning," said the
colonel, returning about tea-time from a visit to the
C.R.A. "We are under the --th Divisional Artillery
wile we're up here, and we shall get the orders from
then. You'd better let the batteries know. Don't say
anything over the wire, of course .... Any papers for
me to see?" he added, pulling out his leather cigarette
case.
I handed him the gun and personnel returns, showing
how many men and guns the Brigade had in action;
and the daily ammunition reports that in collated form
find their way from Divisional Artillery to Corps, and
from Corps to Army, and play their part in informing
the strategic minds at the back of the Front of the ebb
and flow of fighting activity ail along the vast battle
line, enabling them to shape their plans accordingly.
" D Battery are a bit low in smoke shells," remarked
the colonel. "You'd better warn Major Veasey that
he'll want some for to-morrow morning."
" B Battery . . . two casualties . . . how was that ?"
he continued, before signing another paper.
" About an hour ago, sir. Their mess cart was com-
ing up, and got shelled half a toile from the battery
position. Two of the se.vants were wounded."
"l've never seen an order worded quite like that,"

120 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

he smiled, when I showed him a typed communication
just arrived from the Divisional Artillery, under whose
orders we were now acting. It gave the map co-
ordinates of the stretch of front our guns were to tire
pon in response to S.O.S. calls. The passage the
colonel referred to began--
" By kind consent of the colonel of the --th
French Artillery, the S.O.S. barrage on our front
will be strengthened as follows" . ."
" Sounds as if the French colonel were lending his
batteries like a regimental band at a Bank Holiday
sports meeting, sir," I ventured.
"Yes, we are learning to conduct war in the grand
mammr," smiled the colonel, opening his copy of 'The
Times.'
Out mess, under a couple of curved iron "elephants"
stuck against the bank, had looked a miserable affair
when we came toit; but judicious planting of sandbags
and bits of "scrounged" boarding and a vigorous clean-
up had ruade it more habitable. Manning, the mess
servant, had unearthed from a disused dug-out a heavy
handsome table with a lacquered top, and a truly regal
chair for the colonel--green plush seating and a back
of plush and scrolled oak--the kind of chair that pro-
vincial photographers bring out for their most dignified
sitters. By the light of our acetylene ]amp we had
dined, and there had been two rubbers of bridge, the
colonel and the li ttle American doctor bringing about
the downfall of Wilde, the signalling officer, and myself,
in spire of the doctor's tendency to finesse against his
own partner. The doctor had never played bridge
before joining us, and his mind still tan to poker.
The Reconnaissance O fficer of the th Diisional Artil-
lery had rung up at 10 o'clock to tell us that an ofiïcer

THE RED-ROOFED HOUSE 121

was on his way with a watch synchronised to Corps
time, and that we should receive orders for the next
morning's operatioa z, iâ a certain Field Artillery Brigade
who were somewhere in our vicinity. I had told the
brigade clerk that he could go to bed in his 3 feet
by 6 feet cubby-hole, and that the orderlies waiting to
convey the battle orders to the batteries ought to snatch
some rest also. It was 11 P.. now. Wilde and the
doctor had gone off to their own dug-out. It was very
dark when I looked outside the mess. We were in a
lonely stretch of moorland; the nearest habitation was
the shell-mauled cottage at the railway crossing, two
toiles away. Every ten minutes or so enemy shells
screamed and flopped into the valley between us and
the road alongside which D Battery lay.
"We'll try and hurry these people up," said the
colonel, picking up the telephone. Even as he told the
signal]er on duty to get him Divisional Artillery, a call
came through. It was the Artillery Brigade from whom
we expected a messenger with the orders.
"No!" I heard the colonel say sharply. "We've had
nothing. . . No! no one has been here with a watch.
• . ¥ou want an officer to corne over to you? . . .
But I haven't any one who knows where you are."
A pause. Then the colonel continued. "¥es, but
you know where we are, don't you ? . . . Umph.
Well, where are you tobe round ? . . . ¥ou can't give
a co-ordinate over the telephone ? . . . That's not very
helpful."
He rang off, but I knew by his expression that the
matter was not yet settled. He got through to the
tth Divisional Artillery and told the brigade-major
that it was now 11.20 P.M., that no officer with" a syn-
chronised watch had arrived, and that the other brigade

122 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

were now asking us to send an officer to them for
orders for the coming battle. "I have no one who
knows where they are," he went on. " They must know
our location--we relieved one of their brigades. Why
can't they send to us as arranged? I may have some
..one wandering about half the night trying to find
them."
In a little while the telephone bell tinkled again.
"l'll answer them," said the colonel abruptly.
"All right, l'll send to them," he relolied stonily.
"Where are -e to find them, since they won't give us
co-ordinates over the telephone ? . . A house with a
red roof! . . You can't tell us anything more definite ?
• Very well .... Good-bye."
He put down the telephone with a little "Tchat!"
that meant all forms of protest, annoyance, and sense
of grievance. But now that no possible concession was
to be gained, and certain precise work had tobe done
by us, he became the inexorable matter-of-fact executive
leader again. "There's nothing for it," he said, looking
ai me. "You will have to go."
Buildings with red roofs are hot marked as such on
military maps, and I bent glumly over the ma t) board.
tIowever, bouses were exceedingly few in this neigbour-
hood, and the chateau on the oher side of the railway
could be ruled out immediately. It was known as "The
White Chateau," and I had noticed it în daytime. Be-
sides, it had been so heavily shelled that out companion
brigade had evacuated it two days before. "It's pretty
certain to be somewhere in this area," observed the
colonel, bending over me, and indicating a particular
three thousand square yards on the mat). "I expect
that's the place--on the other side of the railway," and
he pointed to a tiny oblong patch. I estimated that the

THE RED-ROOFED HOUSE 123

house was three toiles from where we were. It wanted
but rive minutes to midnight.
I went outside, and flickering my electric torch
stumbled across ruts and past occasional shell-holes to
the copse, three hundred yards away, that sheltered the
oiïlcers' chargers. I crackled a way among twigs and
undergrowth until the piquet called out, "Who goes
there ? "
"I think your groom's here, sir," he said, and the
trees were so close set that my shoulder brushed the
hindquarters of a row of mules as he piloted me along.
" Are you there, Morgan ?" he shouted, pulling open a
waterproof ground-sheet that was fasened over a hole
in the ground. " Nowgo away," called a voice angrily.
"Where's Morgan sleep ? Mr wants him," per-
severed the piquet.
We found my groom in another hole in the ground
about thirty yards away. He listened sleepily while I
told him to get my hirses ready immediately. "Do you
want feeds on, sir ?" he asked, with visions apparently
of an all-night ride.
There was no moon, and I gazed gratefully at the
only constellation that showed in a damp unfriendly sky
bthe Great P, ear. I let my horse find his own way the
first few hundred yards, until we struck a track, then we
broke into a trot. The swish and plop of gas shells in
the valley towards which we were descending ruade me
pause. I calculated that they were falling short of the
railway crossing I wanted to reach, and decided that a
wide sweep to the right would be the safest course. We
cantered alongside some ploughed land, and the motion
of the horse, and the thought that with luck I might
finish my task quickly, and earn a word of commen-
dation from the colonel, brought & certain sente of

124 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

exhilaration. The shelling of the valley increased; my
horse stumbled going down a bank, and for the next rive
minutes we walked over broken ground. "Getting a bit
too much to the right," I said to myself, and turned my
horse's head. Further thoughts were cut short by the
discovery that his forelegs were up against a belt of
barbed wire.
For ten minutes I walked in front of the wire, search-
ing for an opening, and getting nearer to where the
shells were falling. All the rime I looked earnestly for
the railway line. I began to feel bitter and resentful.
" If our own Divisional Artillery had been doing to-
morrow's show I shouldn't have had to turn out on a job
of this kind," I reflected. " Damn the --th Division.
Why can't they do their work properly ?"
]3ut little gusts of anger sometimes bring with them
the extra bit of energy that carries a job through. We
had reached a ruined wall now, and there was still no
opening in the wire. I could see telegraph posts, and
knew that the railway was just ahead. I got off my
horse, told the groom to wait behind the broken wall,
and, climbing through the barbed wire, picked my way
along smashed sleepers and twisted rails until I came to
the crossing.
I followed the deserted shell-torn road that led from
the level-crossing, searching for a track on the left that
would lead to the bouse I sought. A motor-cyclist,
with the blue-and-white hand of the Signal Service
round his arm, came through the hedge.
"Is there a bouse on top of that hill ?" I asked him,
after a preliminary fiicker of my torch.
"Yes, sir."
"Is ita red-roofed house ?"
"Well, . . . I don't know, air."

THE RED-ROOFED HOUSE 125

"Who's up there ?"
"Smith's group, sir."
"Oh, hang! that tells me nothing. What arc they--
artillery ?"
"Yes, sir--heavies, I think, sir."
I felt myself at a standstill. Orders for us were not
likely to be with a group of heavy artillery. "Whom
are you from ?" I asked finally, preparing to move on.
"From the --th Div. Artillery, sir."
" Oh !"--with a rush of hopefulness--" you have no
orders, I suppose, for the --ad Brigade ? "--mentioning
our Brigade.
"qo, sir."
I broke off and strode up the hillside, determined at
any rate to gather some sort of information from the
house the motor-cyclist had just left. I came upon a
bare-looking, two-storied brick building with plain doors
and windows. Through the keyhole of the front door I
could see a light coming from an inside room. I opened
the door and walked down the passage, calling, "Is this
the rd Field Artillery Brigade ?"
"No! This is the nd Field Company," replied a
fair-moustached sapper captain, who was lying on a
mattress in the room from which the light cane, reading
a book of O. Henry stories.
" Sorry to trouble you," I said, " but I'm trying to
find the rd Brigade. Do you know if they are round
here ?"
"I don't, I'm afraid. We only came in this
afternoon."
"It's a hous with a red roof," I went on, rather
hopelessly.
" I think I know the place," chimed in a voice from
an inner room. "It's  shooting-box, isn't it ? Your

126 PUSHED, AND TttE RETURN PUStt

best way is to get on the road again and take the next
track on the left. I noticed a red-roofed house up there
when we came by."
I trudged back and got on to the new track, feeling
veT martyred but very resigned. I suppose I ought to
have kept my eyes open more, I thought. Next time I
go to a new part of the country I won't miss a single
distinguishing feature.
It was now 1.15 A.. I came to a lonely bouse
fronted by a neatly railed garden. I hammered noisily
on the door and found that if opened into a darkened
passage. A torch flashed into my face. "Is this the
--rd Brigade ?" I began.
"Yes," a voice shouted, and suddenly a door opened
and a spurt of light revealed a youthful pink-cheeked
staff lieutenant. "Are you from the nd Brigade ?"
he asked. "Oh, bon! bon!I've been waiting for
yu."
"Waiting for me!" I retorted, nettled by his airy
manner. "Hard luck on me having fo traipse at this
time of night to a place I don't know to get orders you
ought to have sent out."
"Yes, I know," he replied cheerfully. "We're
awfully sorry, but it's the French Division, you know.
We've only just got the orders out of them. It's really
their show. And I'm afraid the first part of your
orders bave been sent off fo the wrong place." Saying
which, he led me into a large sombre room in which
four or rive officers sat immersed in papers and message
forms. An elderly colonel looked up and nodded over
his glasses. The young staff officer handed me some
barrage nmps and a quantity of type-written operation
orders.
"Zero hour is 5.10 A.M.," he began, "and here is th¢

THE RED-ROOFED HOUSE 127

part of your orders that has gone astray. I can't give
you this copy. Will you take the orders down from
this ? "
I commenced writing out the operation order, and
was struck to find that the barrage "lifts" were in
hundreds of metres instead of hundreds of yards.
"Yes, the French insisted on that," explained the staff
lieutenant briskly.
"But we haven't metres on our range-drums," I said
with an air of abandonment.
"Yes, I know, but the French insisted o it, because
of their infantry..... Oh! there's a para. there about
smoke-shells--that's important."
"The para. about smoke-shells is deleted there
will be no smoke-shells," put in the eldcrly colonel, look-
ing up.
"Oh, is it, sir ?" said the staff lieutenant, turning
round.
; h  "
"Yes the correction has just corne t rouh.
"Right, sir."
I synchronised my watch, thrust the bundle of papers
into my hip-pocket, and hurried away to find my horses.
It was half-past one, and the attack was timed to start
at 5.10. The colonel would require to deal with the
orders, and the battery commanders would have but the
barest rime to work out their individual "lifts." 1
started back at the gallop, skirting the side of the valley.
I remember wishing to heaven that the clumps and
hillocks of this part of France did hot look so consistently
alike. If only it were light enough for me to pick out
the mustard field that lay, a bright yellow landmark,
behind out chalk bank!
The colonel was in bed when I got back, but I held a
candle while he read through the orders, and got out his

128 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

ivory ruler, and apportioned a barrage lane to each
battery. "Metres will bave to become yards," was one
of his remarks.
By twenty-to-three the orderlies had set out with the
battle orders to the batteries, while I spoke on the tele-
phone to an oflïcer of each battery, and synchronised
watches.
When I turned in, after a whisky-and-soda and a
couple of biscuits, the colonel was fast asleep. I felt
satisfied, however, that I had done my share that night
towards beating the Hum
By 7 ,.i. we were up again, and until 7 P.M. the
telephone buzzed continuously. It was a day of hard
infantry fighting, of attacks that were held up and had
to be renewed, of German counter-efforts to shift us ff'oto
points won at the opening of our attack. All day long
F.O.O.'s and liaison officers telephoned reports of changes
in our front line, and rive rimes I turned on our batteries
to respond to S.O.S. calls. By the end of the day we
held three parts of the ground that our Higher Command
had planned to seize.

129

III. AN AUSTRALIAN "HAND-OVER"

THEIE followed three months of varied kinds of soldier-
ing: short spells holding the line, odd days in test areas,
quick shifts to other parts of the Front, occasional parti-
cipation in carefully prepared raids on Hun trenches, one
whole fortnight in a riverside village where even the
Boche night-bombers did not corne, and where we held a
joyous race-meeting--seventy riders in one race--and a
spit-and-polish horse show. There was the fresh burst
by the Hun armies that seemed to spell the doom of
Reims. We began to notice larger and larger bodies of
arriving Americans, but did not expect them to be in the
war on an impressive scale until 1918 was out. Leave
to England remained at a standstill. The universal
phrase of 1916 and 1917, " Roll on Duration," had
almost entirely disappeared from the men's letters that
came before me for censoring. Yet no one seemed de-
pressed. Every one appeared possessed of a sane and
calm belief that things would work out right in the long-
run. We should just ha.ve to hold the Hun off this
year, and by honest endeavour during training oppor-
tunities fit ourselves to fight with added effectiveness in
1919, when America would be properly in the field and
the Allies' turn would corne.
The second week in May the Brigade, a.fter a fourteen-
toile march, came again into the land of rolling heights
I

130 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

and sunken roads in which for three and a hall years
rnost of our fighting had been done. A "sausage"
balloon anchored to the ground, a pumping-station and
four square-shaped water-troughs, and a dozeu or so
shan[ies built of sandbags and rusted iron, dotted the
green-and-brown landsizape.
Waggon tracks had cut ugly brown ways through
clover-fields and grasslands. A new systera of trenches
stretched to north and to south from the main road
along which the Brigade were moving. Men of the
Labour Corps were stolidly filling shell-holes in the road
surface with broken stones, and digging sump-holes for
draining away the rain-and-mud torrents that were sure
to corne. A long dark wood crowued the ridge three
mlles in front of us. In the centre a slender spire
tipped the tree-tops.
"That's Baisieux Church," said M\ior Bullivant, with
whom I was riding along the horse track at the side of
the road. "Do you know the latest motto for the
Labour Corps ?" he added inconsequentially, looking down
ata bespectacled man in khaki who eased up as we
passed. "Infra dig.," he went on, with a humorous side-
glance, and without pausing for my auswer.
Away to the east muffled boomings as if giants were
shaking blankets. My mind turned to July 1916, when
first I arrived in France and came along this very road
at 3.30 one morning as the sun's rim began to peep
above the long dark wood. How easy to recall that
morning! I had brought fifty-three men from the Base,
reinforcements for the Divisional Artillery, and half-be-
lieved that the war could not proceed unless I delivered
them to their destination in the shortest possible rime;
and my indignant keenness when I reached the village

AN AUSTRALIAN "HAND-OVER" 131

behind the long dark ood and learned thut no one there
knew anything about the two lorries that were to trans-
port my party the remainder of the journey to the
Front! Did I hot rouse  frowning town major and
two amazed sergeant-majors before 5 A.M. and demand
that they should do something in the matter? And did
not my fifty-three lnen eventually complete a triumphant
pilgrimage in no fewer than thirteen ammunition lorries
to find that they and myself had arrived a day earlier
tlmn we were expected ? And here was I again in the
saine stretch of country, and the tritish line notso far
forward as it tmd been two years before.
We pitched tents and tethered our horses in the wood,
and before nightfall I walked into the village to look af
the spot beneath the church tower where I had halted
my fifty-three men, and to view again the barn in which
I had roused the most helpful of the two sergeant-majors.
Alas for the sentiment! All French villages seem much
alike, with their mud- wall barns and tiled cottages,
when you have passed through scores of them, as I have
doue since July 1916. I could hot be certain of the
building.
Coming back to our camp through the heart of the
wood, I chanced upon a place of worship that only a
being of fancy and imagination and devoutness could
have fashioned. Inside a high oval hedge, close-woven
with much patient labour, stood an altar ruade of
banked-up turf, surmounted b)- a plain wooden cross.
Turf benches to seat a hundred and fifty worshippers faced
the altar. Aboute, the wind rustled softly through the
branches of tall birches and larch trees, bent over until
they touched, and ruade one think of Gothic arches.
There was wonderful peace and rest in the place. Some

132 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

one told me afterwards that the chaplain of a London
Division had built i. It was a happy thought.
In the morning I went with the colonel through the
village, and a toile and a hall along a road leading east
that for half a toile was lined with camouflage screens.
" The Boche holds the ridge over there," remarked the
colonel, stretching an arm towards high ground swathed
in a blue haze rive mlles away. A painted notice-board
told all and sundry that horse traflïc was hot permitted
on the road until after dusk. We struck off to the left,
dropped into a trench where we saw a red triangular flag
flying, and said "Good-day" to the brigade-major of the
Infantry brigade who had ruade their headquarters at
this spot. Then we got out of the trench again, and
walked along the top until we came to what was fo be
our future home--the headquarters of the Australian
Field Artillery trigade that we were to relieve by 10
P.M. We received a cheery welcome from a plump,
youngish Australian colonel, and a fair-haired adjutant
with blue sparkling eyes.
When a brigade of artillery relieves another brigade
of artillery, there is a ceremony, known as " handing-
over," fo be gone through. The outgoing brigade pre-
sents to the in-coming brigade maps and documents
showing the positions of the ba.tteries, the O.P.'s, the
liaison duties with the infantry, the amount of ammuni-
tion tobe kept at the gun positions, the zones covered,
the S.O.S. arrangements, and similar information detail-
ing daily work and responsibilities. I ca.n recall no
"hand-over" so perfect in its way as this one. The
Australian Brigade's defence file was a beautifully
arranged, typed dccument, and a child could have
anderstood the indexing. True, the extent and number

AN AUSTRALIAN "HAND-OVER " 133

of their headquarters staff was astonishing. Against
our two clerks they had three clerks, and a skilled
draughtsman for map-making; also an N.C.O. whose
sole magnum o2»us was the weekly compiling of Army
Form :B. 213. But there could be no doubt that they
carried on war in a most business-like way.
The colonel went off with the Australian colonel fo
inspect the battery positions and view the front line
from the O.t).'s, and sent nie back to bring np ouç mess
cart and to arrange for the fetching of out kit.
tea-time we were properly installed; and iudeed the
Australian colonel and his adjurant remained as our
guests at dinner.
The mess, cut out of the side of the trench and lined
with corrugated iron, possessed an ingeniously manu-
factured doorpart of a drum-tight wing of a French
aeroplane. The officers' sleeping quarters were thirty fcet
below groud, in an old French dug-out, with steps so
unequal in height that it was the prudent course to
descend backwards with your hands grasping the steps
nearest your chin.
The Australian colonel dipped his hand for the fifth
rime into the box of canteen chocolates that Manning
had placed on the table with the port. " That's a nice
Sam :Browne of yours," he observed, noticing the gloss
on our adjutant's belt.
"I hope you don't take a fancy to it, sir," replied our
adjurant quickly. "We're all afraid of you, you know.
l've put a double piquet o our waggon lines for fear
some of your fellows take a liking fo out horses."
The Australian colonel and his adjurant laughed good-
naturedly, and the colonel told us a story of a captain
and a sergeant-major in another Australian brigade who
were accomlished "looters,"

13 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

One night the pair were hauling down a tent which
they thought was empty, when a yell ruade them aware
thal an offier was sleeping in it. The captain took to
his heels, but the sergeant-major was captured.
"The next day," concluded the Australian colonel,
"the captain had to go and make all sorts of apologies
to get his sergeant-major off. The other people agreed,
provided tbe officer ransoned him with half a dozen
pit-props and ten sheets of corrugated iron. :For a long
rime afterwards we used fo chaff the captain, and tell
him that he valued his serg'eant-major at six pit-props
and ten sheets of iron."
Hot sweltering days followed. Most mornings I spent
ai the O.P. watching our batteries' eflbrts to knock out
suspected enemy trench mortars, or staring through my
binoculars trying to pick out Boche transport, or fresh
digging operalions. The tralnp back at midday along
the communication trenches was boiling-hot going. I
used to think "People working in London will be pining
just now for green fields and country air. For myself,
I'd give anything for a cool ride on a London bus." In
the afternoons there were reserve battery positionsin
case of a swift Huu advanceto be reconnoitred, gaps
in the barbed-wire systems to be located, and bits of
trenches that would bave to be filled in to allow our
waggons to cross. Divisional Artillery were insistent
tpon timed reports of hoslile shelling, particularly gas
shelling, and this formed another portion of my special
work. One day intimation came from Division that
Fentiman and Robson had been accepted for the Air
Service. "It's the only way to get leave to England,"
said I'obson jocularly. Fentiman's chief regret was that
he would ha;ce to leave behind a mare that he had got
from the Tank Corps. "She pulls so," he told me one

AN AUSTRALIAN "HAND-OVER" 135

afternoon when I met him jogging along the road, "that
if I turned on to the grass at this molnent and put spurs
into her, she wouldn't stop till she got to Amiens. .
1o one in the Tank Corps has been able to pull her up
under four toiles, and only then when she came to a
seven-foot hedge. . But I was beginning to under-
stand her."
When I accompanied the colonel on his visits to the
Infantry brigades all the talk was of the training of the
youngsters, who now formed so considerable a portion of
the battalion strengths. "They are good stuff," I heard
one of the brigadiers say, "and I keep drumming into
them that they are fighting for England, and that the
Boche mustn't gain another yard of ground." IIe was a
fighter, this brigadier--although I have never yet met
another oflicer who took it as a matter of course that his
camp-bed should be equipped with linen sheets when he
was living in the firing line.
About three-quarters of a toile from our headquarters
was a tiny cemetery, set in a grove of trees on a bare
hillside, sequestered, beautiful in its peacefulness and
quiet. One morning, very early, I walked out to view
it more closely. It had escaped scvere shelling, although
chipped tombstones and broken railings and scattered
pieces of painted wire wreaths showed that the hell-blast
of destruction had not altogether passed it by. I went
softly into the little chapel. On the floor, nmddy, noisy-
sleeping soldiers lay sprawled in ungainly attitudes.
Rifles were piled against the wall; mess-tins and water-
bottles lay even upon the altar. And somehow there
seemed nothing incongruous about the spectacle, nothing
that would hurt a profoundly religious mind. It was all
part of the war.
And one night when I was restless, and even the

136 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

heavy drlgging warmth of the dug-out did not dull me
to sleep, I climbed up into the open air. It was a lovely
night. The long dark wood stood out black and distinct
in the clear moonlight; the stars twinkled in their calm
abode. Suddenly a near-by battery of long-range guns
cracked out an ear-splitting salvo. And before the
desolating rush of the shells had faded from the ear a
nightingale hidden among the trees burst into song.
That also was part of the war.

137

IV. HAPPY DAYS!

DURING the month of June Brigade Headquarters retired
from the trench dug-out and settled in the end house of
the village, a white-walled, vine-clad buildin, with a
courtyard and stables and a neat garden that only one
Boche shell had smitten. On the door of the large
room that we chose for the mess there still remained a
request in French, written in a clear painstaking hand,
that billeted officers should keep to the linoleum strips
laid acriss the carpet when proceeding to the two inner
rooms. But there was no linoleum now, and no carpet.
On the otherwise bare wall was hung a massively-framed
portrait of the proprietor--a clean-shaven middle-aged
Frenchman of obviously high intelligence. A family
press-cutting album contained an underlined report fron
a local newspaper of a concert given in the village on
June 6, 1914:--

Très remarque le duo de tandoline avec accom-
pagnement de violon exdcutd pa.f trois gracieuses
jeunes filles qui font à chacune de nos soi'ées admi'e"
par les amateurs du beau, leur talent d'artiste !

I gathered that the three young girls were daughters
of the house; I also noted that t'ois gracieuses jeunes
filles was doubly underlined.

138 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

One of our servants used fo be a professional gardener,
and in a couple of days he had weeded the paths and
brought skill and knowledge to bear on the neglected vege-
table beds. We had excellent salad from that garden
and fresh strawberries, while there were roses to spare
for the tall vases on the mantelpiece in the mess; and
belote we came away our gardener had looked to the
future and planted lettuce and turnips and leeks, and
even English pansies. The Boche gunners never got a
line on to that house, and though aerol)lanes cruised
above us every night hot a single bomb dropped near.
The town inajor, a learned and discursive subaltern,
relieved on account of rheumatic troubles from more
strenuous duties with an Infantry regiment, joined our
mess and proved a valuable addition, tte was  talented
mathematician whose researches had carried him to where
mathematics soar into the realms of imagination ; he had
a horror of misplaccd relatives, and possessed a reliable
palate in the marrer of red wines. One dinner-time he
talked himself out on the possibilities of the metric
system, and pictured the effects of a right angle with a
hundred instead of ninety degrees. Another night he
walked me up and down the garden ungil 2 .¢.[., expati-
ating on astronomy. He tried to make me realise the
beyond comprehension remoter/ess of the new star by
explaining that astronomers did not calculate its dis-
tance from the earth in thousands of mlles. "Light
travels at 186,000 mlles a second; to astronomcrs the
new star is 2000 years away," he concluded.
As I have said, he was a valuable addition to our
mess. One day he took me to a neighbouring village
and introduced me to a fat comfortable-looking Maire,
who spread his hands on his capacious knees and invited
us to try  cooling nip of absinthe. Afte: which he

HAPPY DAYS ! 139

produced from a small choice store a bç, ttle of fifty-year-
old brandy, and ruade the town major take it away in
token of a friendship that begau in the way-back days
of 1915.
All this may not sound like war, but I ara trying to
write down some of the average daily happenings in a
field-artillery brigade that has seen as much service as
any brigade in the new armies.
For several days Wilde, the signalling officer, and the
doctor conducted an acrid argument that arose fl'om the
doctor's astounding assertion that he had seen a Phila-
delphia base-ball player smite a base-bll so clean and
hard that it travelled 400 yards before it pitched.
Wilde, with supreme scorn, pointed out that no such
claire had been ruade even for a golf ball. The doctor
ruade play with the names of Speaker, Cobb, and other
transatlantic celebrities. Then one day Wilde rushed
into the mess flourishing a London Sunday paper that
referred in glowing terms to a mighty base-ball hit
of 136 yards, ruade on the Royal Arsenal football
ground; after which the doctor retired to cope with the
plague of boils that had descended upon the Brigade.
This and a severe outbreak of Spanish 'flue provided
him with a regular hundred patients a day. He him-
self had bitter personal experience of the boils. We
never saw him without one for ten weeks. His own
method of dealing with their excruciating tenderness
was to swathe his face in cotton-wool and sticking-plaster.
"Damn me, doctor, if you don't look like a loose
imitation of Von Tirpitz," burst out the adjutant one
day, when the doctor, with a large boil on either side
of his chin, appeared plastered accordingly.
By July we had side-stepped north and were housed
in a chateau that really deserved the appellation,

140 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

though it was far from being as massively built as an
average English country seat of like importance. It
be]onged to one of the oldest familles in France.
Wide noble staircases led to vast rooms ruade unten-
able by shell tire. Fragments of rare stained glass
littered the vacant private chapel. The most valuable
paintings, the best of the Louis XV. furniture, and the
choicest tapestry had been removed to safety. In one
room I entered some bucolic wag had clothed a bust of
Venus in a lance-corporal's cap and field-service jacket,
and ah3xed a box-respirator in the alert position. We
ruade the mess in what had been the nursery, and the
adjutant and myself slelt in bunks off an elaborately
mined passage, in making which Iritish tunnellers had
worked so hard that cracks showed in the wall above,
and the whole wing apleared undecided whether or hot
to sink. We learned that there were two schools of
opinion regarding the safety of the passage. The
Engineers of one Division thought the wing would hot
subside; some equally competent Engîneers shook their
heads and said no civil authority would dream of passing
the passage as safe. The adjutant and myself relied
upon the optimists; at any rate, we should be safe
from the ttun gunners, who treated the chateau as one
of their datum points.
We were relieving an Army Field Artillery brigade
commanded by a well-knowl_ scientific gunner, and on
the afternoon that we arrived he took the colonel and
myself on an explanatory tour of the battery positions
and the " O.I'.'s." They were leaving their guns in
position for us to use. There was a Corps standing
order that steel helmets should be worn and box-
respirators kept in the alert position in this part of
the line. So first we girded up ourselves in compliance

HAPPY DAYS! 141

with orders. Then our guide ruade us walk iu single
file and keep close to the houses as we walked along
the main street. "He has a beautiful view of the
chateau gares and can see movement in the centre of
the road," he informed us.
It was a terribly battered village. The church tower
had been knocked out of sha.pe. Roofs that had escaped
being smashed in were threadbare, or seemed to be slip-
ping off skeleton houses. Mutilated telegraph-poles and
broken straggly wires, evil-smelling pools of water, scat-
tered bricks, torn roadways, and walls blackened and
scarred by bomb and shell, completed a scene of nourn-
fulness and desolation. We passed oue corner house on
the shutters of which some "infanteers" had chalked the
waie. Then we struck
inviting saucy sign," Ben Jonson's ' '"
across a fast-ripening wheat-field and put tp a mother
partridge who was agonised with fear lest we should dis-
cover her young ones. " It will be a pity if these crops
can't be gathered in," remarked out colonel. To right
and left of us, and beyond the rtined village that lay
immediately in front, were yellow fields ready for the
harvesters. "Does he shell much ?" continued the
colonel.
"lot consistently," replied the other colonel. "I
don' think he does much observed shooting. He's
copying our method of sudden btrsts of tire, though."
We inspected two O.P.'s on one side of the wide
valley that led towards the front line, picked up,
through binoculars, the chier réference points in
tocheland, and had a look at two heavily-camouflaged
anti-tank guns that were a feature of the defence in
this part of the front. Myriads of fat overfed flies
buzzed in the trenches through which we passed. Hot
and dusty, we came back about 6 I.M., and entered

142 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

the chateau kitchen-garden through a hole that had
becn knocked in the high, ancient, russet-red brick
wall. The sudden scent of box and of sweet-smelling
herbs roused a tingling sense of pleasure and of
recollection. I never failed afterwards to return to
the chateau by that way.
The other colonel came out with us again next
morning, although our batteries were now in posses-
sion,, and his own officers and men had gone a long
way back. He wanted to show our colonel some
observation points from the O.t'. on the other side
of the valley.
A certain incident resulted. As we passcd A Battery's
position we saw Durable, the battery captain, looking
through the dial-sight of his No. 1 gun, apparently try-
ing to discover whether a black-and-white signalling-pole,
planted fifty yards in front of the gun, was in line with
a piece of hop-pole fifty yards farther on. Both colonels
stared fixedly st the spectacle. "What's become of the
aiming-posts ?" said the other colonel, puzzled and stern.
When a gun has fired satisfactorily on a certain
target, which is also a well-defined point on the map,
and it is desired to make this particular line of. tire
the standard line, or, as it is commonly called, the zero
line, the normal method is to align two aiming-posts
witb such accuracy that, no marrer what other targets
are fired upon, the gun can always be brought back to
its zero line by means of the aiming-posts. Absolute
accuracy being essential, the aiming-posts are specially
designed and are of a settled pattern. Judge of the
two colonels' astonishment then when they perceived
Dumble's impromptu contrivance.
"Hve you no aiming-posts ?" our colonel asked
Dumblo sharply.

HAPPY DAYS! 143

"No, sir, the other battery would hot leave theirs
behind. I had understood it was arranged that we
should hand over ours at the waggon line, and that
they should leave theirs here to give us the lines
of tire."
"Of course," interrupted the other colonel; " but
what are you doing now ? You ean't get your line
with those things."
"I'm trying to do the best I ean, sir, until my
own aiming-posts arrive."
"Yes, but it's hopeless trying to fix those ridieulous
things in the saine positions as the aiming-posts. Who
was it gave the order to remove the aiming-posts ?"
"The subaltern who was waiting for us to relieve
your battery, sir."
" The battery commander wasn't here then ?"
"No, sir. I believe he'd gone on ahead to the waggon
hnes.
" I'm exeeedingly sorry this has happened," said the
other colonel, turning to our colonel. "I'll have the
battery commander and the other officer up here ai
once, and they cau go forward with your officer when
he registers the guns again. It's disgraceful, l'Il
stop their next ]eave for ths." He disappeared into
the battery telephone pif to send through orders for
the recalling of the de]inquent oPficers.
"Not a bad idea to make an inspection round the
day after you have handed over," remarked our
colonel to me drily. "ïhis is rather an instructive
example."
These were our last days of waiting and wondering
whether the Boche would attack; of the artillery duels
and the minor raids by which each side sought to feel and
test the other's strength. I recall two or three further

144 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

incidents of our stay in that part of the line. The
G.O.C., R.A., of Corps decided that a rare opportunity
presented itself for training junior officers in quick
picking up of targets, shooting over open sights, and
voice-command of batteries from near sighting-places
where telephone wires could be dispensed with and
orders shouted through a megaphone. "It will quite
likely corne to that," he observed. "The next fighting
will be of the real open warfare type, and the value
of almost nechanical acquaintance with drill is that
the officer possessing such knowledge can use all his
spare brains fo deal with the changing phases of the
actual battle."So a single 18-pdr. used to be pulled
out for practice purposes, and Generals and infantry
officers came to see gunner subalterns schooled and
tested. It was better practice than Shoeburyness or
Larkhill, because though the shoots were carried out
on the gunnery school model the shells were directed
at real targets. During one series a distinguished
red- tabbed party was dispersed because the Hun did
an area strafe in front, behind, and around the single
gun. Another time the descent of an 8-inch saved
the amour-loropre of a worried second lieutenant, who,
after jockeying with his angle of sight, had got into
abject difficulties with his range and corrector.
One morning I was up forward carrying out instruc-
tions to keep in daily touch with the infantry battalions,
finding out their requirements, and discovering what new
artillery targets they could suggest. As it was also my
business to know what the Heavies were doing, I stopped
at an O.P. in a trench to ask a very young R.G.A. officer
observing for a 6-inch how. such questions as what he
had fired upon that morning, and whether he had noted
any fresh Boche movement. I had passed along the

HAPPY DAYS! 145

winding trench and descended the dug-out headquarters
of one of our infantry battalions, and was inquiring if
the commanding officer had any suggestions or com-
ilaints to make, when the boyish R.G.A. officer came
down the steps and, not noticing me in the dira candle-
light, asked in hurried tones : "Excuse me, sir, but could
you identify an artillery officer who said he was coming
here ? He stopped and asked me some extraordinary
questions .. and"--hesitatinglyw"you bave to be
careful talking to people in the front line."
The adjurant and the intelligence ofiicer of the in-
fantry battalion were smiling broadly. Finally the
colonel had to laugh. " Yes," he said, " I can identify
the artillery officer. Here he is. You haven't discov-
ered a siy this time."
The young officer looked abashed, and when later I
iassed his "O.P.," apologised with much sincerity. I
replied by asking him to have a good look at me, so
that he wouldn't mistake me next time we met. After
which we both laughed. We did meet again, not long
afterwards, and in much more exciting circumstances.
When the Brigade left that part of the line, Marshal
Foch had begun his momentous counter-effort between
Soissons and Château-Thierry. In a very short rime we
also were to be engaged in a swift and eventful move-
ment that changed the whole tenor of the war: a time
of hard ceaseless fighting, countless episodes of heroism
and sacrifice, and vivid conquering achievement.

K

146

V. BEFORE THE GREAT ATTACK

ON the evening of August 3, an evening with a sinister
lowering sky, we settled in our newest headquarters-
wooden huts, perched on the long steep slope of a
quarry just outside the crumbling ruins of Heilly, cele-
brated in the war annals of 1916 for an officers' tea-
rooms, where three pretty daughters of the bouse acted
as waitresses.
Excitement was in the air. Marshal Foch's bold
strategy at Soissons had had dramatic effect. The
initiative was passing again to the Allies. A faint
rumour had developed into an official fact. There was
to be a big attack on our immediate front. Yet few
of us dared to conceive the mark in history that
August 8 was to make. All we really hoped for was
a series of stout resolute operations that would bring
Germany's great offensive to a deadlock.
Along the road that wound past the quarry--otfshoot
of a main route that will for ever be associated with the
War--there flowed a ceaseless stream of ammunition
waggons. " This goes on for three nights. My
Gad, they're getting something ready for him," re-
marked our new adjutant to me. Gallant, red-faced,
roaring old Castle had been transferred to command
the Small Arms Ammunition section of the D.A.C., where
his love of horses was given full play, and had already

BEFORE THE GREAT ATTACK 147

gained his section many prizes at our tIorse Show a week
before.
Rain descended in stinging torrents, and the Australian
colonel and his ad.iutant , who would leave as soon as they
heard that our batteries had relieved theirs, looked out
disgustedly. I called for a bottle of whisky, and when
the Australian adjurant toasted me with "tIere's to the
skin of your nose," I gathered that his gloom was lessen-
ing. The soup came in and we started dinner.
Talk ran upon the extraordinary precautions taken
to surprise the enemy. Field-guns were hot to be
moved up to their battle positions until the night
before the attack. There was to be no digging in of
guns, no earth was to be upturned. Reconnaissance
likely to corne under enemy observation had to be
carried out with a minimum of movement. As few
officers and men as was possible were to be made
aware of the date and the scoi3e of the operation. On
a still night the creaking rattle of ammunition waggons
on the move may be heard a very long way off'. To
prevent this noise of movement wheel tyres were lapped
vith tope; the play of the wheels was muttled by the
use of leather washers. Straw had even to be laid on
some of the roadsas straw is laid in front of houses
where the seriously sick are lying.
"I think," said the Austra]ian signalling officer, "that
the funniest thing is the stggestion in orders that tele-
phone conversations should be camouflaged. I suppose
tlmt if some indiscreet individual asks over the 'phone
whether, for instance, a new telephone line bas been laid
to a certain map point it is advisable to reply, 'No, ho's
dining out to-night.' "
"Why not try a whistling code ?" put in our adjurant.
"Suppose you whistled the first line of 'Where my

148 PUSItED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

Caravan has rested,' that could mean ' At the waggon
hne.
"And 'Tell me the old, old Story' would be 'Send in
your ammunition returns at once,'" laughed Wilde, our
signaIling ofiîcer, who had been angeied many rimes be-
cause his line to Divisional ArtilIery had been held up
for that purpose.
" And 'It's a long way to Tipperary' could be taken
as 'Lengthen your Range,' " said one of the Australian
oiïicers in his soft drawl; while the exuberance reached
its climax when some one suggested that "Waiting for
the Robert E. Lee" might be whistled to indicate that
the Divisional Commander was expected at any moment.
"You've had some of the Americans with you, haven't
you ?" asked our colonel of the Australian colonel. " How
do you find them ? We heard a humorous report that
some of the Australian infantry were rather startled by
their bloodthirstiness and the vigour of their language."
The Australian colonel--one of those big, ugly, good-
tempered men who attract friendship--laughed and
replied, " I did hear one good story. A slightly wounded
Boche was being carried on a stretcher to the dressing
station by an American and one of our men. The Boche
spoke a bit of English, and was talkative. 'English no
good,' he said. 'French no good, Americans no good.'
The stretcher-bearers walked on without answering.
The Boche began again. ' The English think they're
going to win the war,--they're wrong. You Americans
think you've corne to win,--you're wrong.'
"Then the American spoke for the first and last
rime. 'You think you're going to be carried to hos-
pital,--you're wrong. Put him down, Digger !' And
that eded that.
" Speaking seriously, though," he went on, " the

BEFORE THE GREAT ATTACK 149

Americans who have been attached to us are good
stuff--keen to learn, and the right age and stamp.
When they pick up more old-soldier cunning, they'll
be mighty good."
"From all we hear, you fellows will teach them
that," answered our colonel. " I'm told that your in-
fantry do practically what they like with the Boche
on their sector over the river. What was that story
a Corps officer told me the other day ? Oh, I know!
They say your infantry send out patrols each day to
find out how the Boche is getting ou with his new
trenches. When he has dug well down and is making
himself comfortable, one of the patrol party reports,'
think it's deep enough now, sir '; and there is a raid,
and the Australians make themselves at home in the
trench the Boche has sweated to make."
The Australian colonel nodded with pleasure. "Yes,
our lot are pretty good at the cuckoo gaine," he agreed.
Next morning out shaving operations were enlivened
by the swift rush of three high-velocity shells that
seemed to singe the roof of the hut I was in. They
scattered mud, and ruade holes in the road below. "The
nasty fellow!" ejaculated out new American doctor,
hastening outside, with the active curiosity of the new
arrival who has been little under shell tire, to see where
the shells had burst. Out little Philadelphia medico
had gone, a week before, to join the American forces.
ttis successor was broad-built, choleric, but kind of heart,
and came from Ohio. I suspected the new doctor of a
sense of humour, as well as of an understanding of cur-
rent smart-set satire. "They kept me at your base two
months," he told me, "but
also heard an English doctor say he would be glad of a
move, as the base was full of :LU.O. and O.B.E.'s."

150 PUSHED, AND THE RETURlg PUSH

After breakfastte colonel and myself passed through
the battered relics of Heilly on our way to the
batteries. The rain and the tremendous traflïc of the
previous night had churned the streets i,,to slush, but
the feeling that we were on the eve of great events ruade
me look more towards things of cheer. The sign-board,
"--th Division Rest t/ouse," on a tulnble-down dwelling
ringed round wit shell-holes, seemed over-optmistic,
butthe intenton was good. At te litte railway staton
a couple of straw-stuffed dummies, side by side on a
platform seat as if waiting for a train, showed that a
waggish spirit was abroad. Oue figure was ruade up
with a black swallow-tailed coat blue trousers, and a
bowler hatset at a jaunty angle; the other wit
a woman's summer skirt and blouse and an open parasol.
B Btttery, who had discovered excellent dug-out in the
riilway cutting, reported that teir only trouble was the
flies, which were illimitable. A and C had their own
partcular note of satsfaction. They were sharing a
row of dug-outs equipped with German wire beds, tables,
mirrors, and oter home comfort. "We adopted the
Solomon method of division," explained Major Bullivant.
"I picked out two lots of quarters, and then gave C first
choice."
"We've got to selectpositions still farther forward for
the batteries to move to if the attack proves a success,"
said the colonel next day; and on that morning's outing
we walked a long way up to the infantry outposts. We
struck a hard main road that led due east across a wide
unwooded stretch of country. A drizzling rain had set
in; a few big shells grunted and wheezed high over our
heads; at intervals we passed litters of dead horses,
rotting and stinking, and blown up like balloons. Ata
cross-road we cme to a quarry where a number of

BEFORE THE GREAT ATTACK 151

sappers were working. The captain in charge smiled
when the colonel asked what was the task in hand.
" Genet'al hopes it will becime his headqua'ters
three hours after zero hour, sir."
"That ammunition's well hidden," 'ema'ked the colonel
as we followed a lane to the right, and noted some neat
heaps of 18-pdr. shells tucl¢ed unde" a hedge. We round
other small dumps of ammunition hidden among the
corn, and stowed in 'oadside recesses. Studying his
map, the colonel led the way across some disused t'enches,
past a lonely bu'ial-place horribly torn and bespattered
by shell tire, and up a wide desolate fise. "This will
do ve'y well," said the colonel, marking his map. He
looked up at the grey sky and the heavy drifting clouds,
and added, "We'll be getting back."
We came back along the main road, meeting occa-
sional snlall parties of infantry, and turned to the 'ight
down a road that led to the nearest village. A Boche
5"9 was fiL'ing. The shells fell at nfinute intervals four
hundred yards beyond the 'oad on which we we'e walk-
ing. The colonel was describing to me some of the
enjoyments of peace soldie'ing in India, when the'e came
a violent 'ushig of air, and a vicious crack, and a shower
of ea'th descended upon us; and dust hung in the air
like a giant shroud. A shell had fallen on the road fo'ty
ya'ds in front of us.
We had both ducked; the colonel looked up and
asked, "Well, do we continue ? "
"We might get off the road and go round in a semi-
ci'cle, siL" I haza'ded. "I think it would be safer
moving towards the gun than away from it."
"No, I think that was a 'ound badly 'layed,'" said
the colonel. "We'll keep on the 'oad. Besides, we shall
have rime to get past before the next one cornes. But I

152 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

give you warning," he added with a twinkle, "the next
one that cornes so near I lie down tiat."
"I shM1 do exactly as you do, sir," I responded in the
same spirit.
The colonel was right as usuM. The next round went
well over the road agMn, and we wMked along comfort-
ably. At the entrance to the village lay two horses,
freshly killed. The harness had not been removed. The
colonel cMled to two R.A.M.C. men standing near.
"Remove those saddles and the harness," he said, "and
place them where they can be salvaged. It will mean
cutting the girths when the horses commence to swell."
At 4.30 next morning the batteries wero roused to
answer an S.O.S. call. The rumble of guns along the
whole of our Divisional front lasted for two hours. By
lunch-rime we learned that strong Hun forces had got
into our trenches and penetrated as far as the quarry
where the colonel and myself had seen the sappers at
work. Twenty sappers and their officer had been caught
below ground, in what had been destined to become
General 's headquarters. Out counter-attack had
won back only part of the lost ground.
"I'm afraid they'll spot all that ammunition. They
are almost certain now to know that something's afoot,"
said the colonel thoughtfully.
" Something like this always does happen when we
arrange anything," broke in the adjurant gloomily.
There were blank faces that day. We waited to hear
whether there would be a change of plan. But after dark
the ammunition waggons again poured ceaselessly along
the roads that led to the front.

153

VI. THE BATTLE OF AUGUST 8

ON he afternoon of August 7 the colonel left us to
assume command of the Divisional Artillery, the C.R.A.
having fallen ill and the senior colonel being on leave.
Major Veasey, a Territorial officer, who was senior to our
two regular battery commanders, a sound soldier ar, d .
well-liked man, had corne over from D Battery to com-
mand the Brigade. A determined counter-attack, carried
out by one of our Divisional infantry brigades, had won
back most of the ground lost to the Boche the day before.
Operation orders for the big attack on he morning of the
8th had been circulated to the batteries, and between
9 P.M. and 10 P.M. the guns were to move up to the
battle positions. The old wheeler was looling ruefully
at the ninety-two steps leading from the quarry up to
our mess. Made of wooden pegs and sides of ammunition
boxes, the steps had taken him three days to complete.
"My gosh ! that does seem a waste of labour," commented
the Anerican doctor, with a slow smile.
"Doctor, those steps will be a godsend to the next
people who corne to live here," I explained. "That's one
of the ways in which lire is ruade possible out here."
We dined at eight, and it was arrangcd that Major
Veasey, the adjutant, and the signalling officer should go
on ahead, leaving me to keep in telephone touch with

154 PUSHED., AND THE RETURN PUSH

batteries and Divisional Artillery until communications
were complete at the new headquarters.
Down below the regimental sergeant-major was loading
up the G.S. waggon and the Maltese cart. An ejaculation
fron Wilde, the signalling officer, caused every one to
stare through the mess door. "Why, they're putting a
bed on, . . and look at the size of it. . Hi! you
can't take that," he called out to tlm party below.
The doctor rose from his seat and looked down. "Why,
that's my bed," he said.
" But, doctor, you can't take a thing like that," inter-
posed the adjutant.
The doctor's face flushed. This being his baptismal
experience of the Front, he regarded the broad wire bed
he had round in his but as a prize; he seemed unaware
that in this part of the world similar beds could be
counted in hundreds.
"But I like that bed. I can sleep on it. I want it,
and mean to have it," he went on warmly.
" Sorry, doctor," answered the adjutant firmly. " Our
carts have as nuch as they can carry already."
The doctor seened disposed to have the matter out;
but Major Veasey, who had been regarding him fixedly,
and looked amused, stopped further argument by saying,
" Don't worry, doctor. There are plenty of beds at the
new position."
The doctor sat down silent but troubled, and when
the others went he said he would stay behind with me.
I think he wanted my sympathy, but the telephone kept
me so busy--messages that certain batteries had started
to move, demands from the staff captain for a final return
showing the shortage of gas-shell gauntlets, and for lists
of area stores that we expected to hand over, and a
request from the adjutant to bring the barometer that

TttE BATTLE OF AUGUST 8 155

he had overlooked--that there was little rime for
talk.
It was half-past ten when word having corne that full
communication had been estab]ished at the new position,
I told the two signallers who had remained with me to
disconnect the wires; and the doctor and I set off.
was a murky night, and the air was warmly moist. The
familiar rumble of guns doing night-firing sounded ail
along the Front; enemy shells were falling in the village
towards which we were walking. There was a short cut
across the river and the railway and then on through
corn-fields. To strike it we ought to pass through a
particular skeleton house in the village we were leaving,
out by the back garden, and thence along a narrow track
that led across a swamp. In the dark I failed to find
the house; so we plodded on, pas the church, and took
to a main road. After walking two kilometres we
switched south along a by-road that led to the position
A Battery had occupied. :Nota soul had passed since
we took to the lnain road; the Boche shells, now arriving
in greater numbers, seemed, as is always the case ai
night, nearer than they actually were.
Sounds of horses and of orders sharply given ! It was
the last section of A Battery pulling out; in command
young Stenson, a round-faced, newly-joined oiïicer, alert
and eager, and not ill-pleased with the responsibility
placed upon him. "tIave the other sections got up all
right ?" :I asked him. "Yes," he answered, "although
they were shelled just before getting in and Bannister
was wounded--hit in the face, hot seriously, I think."
Bannister, poor fellow, died three days later.
The doctor and [ passed on, following a shell-plastered
road that wound towards a rough wooden bridge, put up
a week before; thence across soggy ground and over the

156 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

railway crossing. There was a slight smell of gas, and
without a word to each other we placed our box-respira-
tors in the alert position. To avoid the passage of a
column of ammunition waggons crunching along one of
the narrow streets we stepped inside a crumbling house.
1o sign of furniture, no stove, but in one corner--
quaint relic of less eventful days--a sewing-machine,
hot even rusted.
A grove of poplars embowered the quarry that we
were seeking; and soon our steps were guided by the
neighing of horses, and by the raised voice of the R.S.M.
hectoring his drivers. The doctor and I were to share a
smelly dug-out, in which all the flies in the world seemed
to have congregated. The doctor examined at length
the Boche wire bed allotted to him, and refused to adroit
that it was as comfortable as the one left behind, tIow-
ever, he expressed satisfaction with the mahogany side-
board that some previous occupant had loaned from a
neighbouring house; our servants had bespread it with
newspapers and ruade a washing-table of it.
The doctor quickly settled himself to sleep, but there
were tasks for me. "This is where I'm the nasty man,"
exclaimed Major Veasey, descending the dug-out with a
signalling watch in his hand. " I'm afraid I shall bave
to ask you to take the rime round to the batteries and
to the --th Brigade, who aren't in communication yet
with Divisional Artillery. Sorry to tire you out in the
dark-- bu t secrecy, you know."
Zero hour was timed for 4.20 _.M. ; it was now 11.30
.M. ; SOI donned steel helmet and box-respirator, and
was moving off when a loud clear voice called from the
road, " Is this --nd Brigade Headquarters ?" It was
Major Simpson of B Battery, buoyant and debonair.
" Hallo!" he burst forth, noticing me. "Where are

THE BATTLE OF AUGUST 8 157

you bound for? . . . Um--yes! . . . I think I can
save you part of the journey.. I'm here, and Lams-
well is coming along. We're both going to the new
positions."
Captain Lamswell of C tattery suddenly appearing,
accompanicd by young Beale of A Battery, we ruade our
way to the mess, where Major Veasey and the adjutant
were sorting out alterations in the operation orders just
brought by a D.A. despatch-rider. Beale and Major
Simpson slaughtered a few dozen flies, and accepted
whiskies-and-sodas. Then I synchronised watches with
representatives of the three batteries present, and young
Beale said that he would check the time with D lattery,
who were only two minutes' walk from A. That left me
to call upon the--th Brigade, who lay on the far side
of the village three parts of a mlle out.
We set out, talking and jesting. There was a high
expectancy in the air that affected all of us. Major
Simpson broke off humming " We are the Robbers of the
Wood" to say, "Well, if this show cornes off to-morrow,
leave ought to start again." " I should shay sho," put in
Lamswell in his best Robey-cum-Billy Merson manner.
" Doesn't interest me much" said I. "I'm such a long
way down the list that it will be Christmas before I can
hope to go. The colonel told me to put in for a few
days in laris while we were out at rest last month, but
l've heard nothing more about it."
When Major Simpson, Lamswell, and ]eale, with
cheery "Good-night," ruade for the sunken road that led
past the dressing station, and then over the crest to their
new positions, I kept on my way, leaving a red-brick,
barn-like factory on my lef, and farther along a tiny
cemetery. Now tlmt I was in open country and alone,
I became more keenly sensitive to the damp mournful-

158 1)USHED, AND THE RETURN 1)USH

ness of the night. What if to-morrow should result in
failure ? It was only four months since the Hun was
swamping us with his tempestuous might! 13rooding
menace seemed in the air. A sudden burst of tire from
four 5"9's on to the cross-roads I had just passed whipped
my nerves into still greater tension.
I strode on, bending my mind to the task in hand.
At 4.40 A.M. I lifted my head to listen to the sound
of the opening barrage--a ceaseless crackle and rumble
up in front. I had not taken off my clothes, and quickly
[ ascended the dug-out steps. Five hundred yards away
a 60-pdr. battery belched forth noise and flame; two
8-inch hows. on the far side of the road numbed the
hearing and ruade the earth tremble. A pleasant
enough morning: the sun just climbing above the shell-
shattered, leaf-bare woods in front; the moon dying
palely on the other horizon; even a school of fast-
wheeling birds in the middle distance. Ten minutes,
a quarter of an hour, half an hour. Still no enemy
shells in this support area. Could it be that the attack
had really surprised the Boche ?
I turned into the adjutant's dug-out and found him
lying down, telephone to ear. "Enemy reply barrage
only slight," he was repeating.
"Any news ?" I asked.
"Some of the tanks missed their way," he an-
swered. "A Battery bave had a gun knocked out and
four men hit. No communication with any of the other
batteries."
By seven o'clock we were breakfasting, and lIajor
Veasey announced his intention of going forward to seek
information. A grey clinging mist had enveloped the
countryside. "Something like March 21st," said the

TlE BATTLE OF AUGUST 8 159

major as he and I set out. "We said it helped the
Boche then. I hope we don't have to use it as an
excuse for any failure to-day. Difiïcult for observers,"
he added thoughtfully.
At the dressing station in the sunken road we learned
that one battery of out companion Field Artillery Brigade
had sufiired severely from gas. All the officers had
been sent down, and a large proportion of the gunners.
The sickly-sweet smell hung faintly over most of the
ground in the neighbourhood of our batteries as well.
A and C were now firing fifty rounds an hour. "The
major's asleep in that dug-out," vo]unteered Beale of A,
pointing fo a hole in a bank that allowed ai least two
feet of air space above Major Bullivant's recumbent
form. The major was unshaven; his fait hair was
tousled, tte had turned up the collar of his British
warm. Beale also looked unkempt, but he said he had
had three hours' sleep belote the barrage started and
felt quite fresh. " Out casualties came just after we
got the guns in," he told me. "They dropped two
whizz-bangs between :No. 1 gun and No. 2."
Major Simpson was up and eating hot sizzling bacon
in a trench, with a cable drum for a seat and an
ammunition- box as table. Two of his subalterns
Overbury, who won the M.C. on Match 21st, and Bob
Pottinger, all smiles and appetite, at any rate this
morninghad also fallen fo, and wanted Major Veasey
and myself fo drink tea. "We're taking a short rest,"
remarked Major Simpson cheerfully. "I'm glad "I
moved the battery away from the track over there.
No shell has corne within three hundred yards of us ....
We have had a difficulty about the wires. Wilde said
he laid wires from :Brigade to all the new positions
belote we came in last night, but my signallers haven't

160 PUSttED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

found their wire yet; so we laid a line to A and got
through tiret way."
Infanry Brigade Headquarters was in a ravine four
hundred yards away. A batch of prisoners had just
arrived and were being questioned by an Intelligence
officer: youngish men most of them, sallow-skinned,
with any arrogance they may have possessed knocked
out of them by now. They were the first Huns I re-
member seeing with steel helmets daubed with staring
colours by way of camouflage. " They say we were hot
expected to attack to-day," I heard the Intelligence
officer mention to the G.S.O.II. of the Division, who
had just corne up.
" Is that one of your batteries ? "asked the Infantry
Brigade signalling offices, an old friend of mine, pointing
to out D Battery, a hundred yards from Brigade Head-
quarters. "What a noise they ruade. We haven't had
a wink of sleep, l:[ow many thousand rounds have they
fired ?"
" Oh, it'll be about 1500 by midday, I expect," I
answered. "Any news ?"
"It's going ail right now, I believe. Bit sticky at the
start--my communications have gone perfectly, so far--
touch wood."
More prisoners kept coming in; limping, bandaged
lnen passed on their way down; infantry runners in
khaki shorts, and motor-cycle despatch-riders hurried up
and buzzed around the Brigade tIeadquarters; inside
when the telephone bell wasn't ringing the brigade-major
could be heard demanding reports from battalions, or
issuing fresh instructions. There was so little fuss that
numbers of quiet self-contained men seemed to be stand-
ing about doing nothing. Occasional high-velocity shells
whizzed over out heads.

THE BATTLE OF AUGUST 8 161

Major Veasey suddenly emerged from the brigade-
major's quarters, looking at his map. "Some of the
Tanks and two companies of the s lost their way at
the start," he told me, "but things have been pulled
straight now. The --rd Brigade have gone right ahead.
A hundred and twenty prisoners up to date. Down
south the Australians are on their final objective.
Yoicks !--this is the stuff to give 'em! ow we'll go
and have a look at my battery."
Captain Drysdale, who was commanding during Major
Veasey's absence from the 4"5 battery, sid that the pro-
gramme had been carried through without a hitch,
although it had been difiicult in the night to get the
hows. on to their aiming-posts without lights. "Kelly
has gone forward, and has got a message through. He
says he saw some of our firing, and the line was extra-
ordinarily good."
"Good old Kelly!" said Major Veasey, puflïng at his
pipe. " I don't know whether we shall be ordered to
move forward to-day; we shan't until the situation is
thoroughly clear. But I shall go forward now with
Simpson and Bullivant to spy out the land. You'd
better cut back to Headquarters with what news we've
got "--this was said to me--" Division will be wanting
something definite."
When about 3 P.M. Major Veasey returned, footsore
and wearied, he brought news that the Infantry Brigade
that had reached its final objective had had to corne
back, owing to the stoutness of the machine-gun
opposition. The attack would be renewed in the
morning, and the batteries would not move forward
that evening.
The adjutant was opening the latest batch of official
envelopes from Divisional Artillery. With a laugh he
L

162 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

flourished a yellow paper. "ttere's your leave to Paris,"
he called out.
«Certainly, I should take it," was Major Veasey's
comment. "Why, I knew one C.R.A. who never stopped
officers' leave when they were in action. It was only
when the Division was at test that he wouldn't let
them go. Said he wanted them for training then. You
pop off."
And as this is a true tale, I hereby record that I did
go to Paris, and returned in full time to participate in
tho brave days that witnessed Britain's greatest triumihs
of the war.

163

VII. SHORT LEAVE TO PARIS

SHORT leave to Paris ought to bequeath a main impres-
sion of swift transition from the dirt, danger, and com-
fortlessness of the trenches to broad payements, shop
windows, welI-dressed women, smooth courtliness, and
restaurant luxuries; to fresh incisive talks on politics
and the Arts, to meetings with old friends and visits to
well-remembered haunts of the Paris one knew beforo
August 1914. Instead, the wearing discomforts of the
journey are likely to retain chier hold upon the memory.
Can Iever forger how we waited seven hours for a train
due at 9.25 P.M. ata station that possessed no forms to
sit upon, so that some of the men lay at full length and
slept on the asphalt platform ? And is there hot a
corner of my memory for the crawling fusty leave-train
that had bare planks nailed across the door spaces of
some of the "oflàcers' " compartments ; a train so packed
that we three officers took turns on the one spare seat
in an "other ranks " carriage ? And then about 8 .¢.M.
we landed ata well-known "ail-change" siding, a spot
of such vivid recollections that some one had pencilled in
the ablution-house, " If the Huns ever take -- Camp
and have to hold it they'll give up the war in disgust."
But in the queue of officers waiting at the ¥.M.C.A.
hut for tea and boiled eggs was the brigade-major of u
celebrated Divisional Artillery. He stood in front of

164 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

inc looking bored and dejected. I happened to pass him
a cup of tea. As he thanked me he asked, "Aren't you
fed up with this journey ? Le's sec the R.T.O. and
inquire about a civilian train!" " If you'll take me
under your wing, sir," I responded quickly. So we
entered Paris by a fast train,--as did my two com-
panions of the night before, who had followed my tip of
doing what I did without letting outsiders sec that there
was collusion.
The brigade-major's wife was awaiting him in Paris,
and I dined with them at the Ritz and took them to
lunch next day at Henry's, where the frogs' legs were
delicious and the chicken a recompense for that night-
mare of a train journey. Viel's was another restaurant
which retained a proper touch of the Paris before the
war--perfect cooking, courtly waiting, and prices not
too high. I have pleasant recollections also of Fouquet's
in the Champs Elysées, and of an almost divine meal at
the Tour d'Argent, on the other side of the river, where
Frederic of the Ibsen whiskers used once to reign: the
delicacy of the so«fflge of turbot! the succulent tender-
ness of the caneton à la oresse ! the seductive flavour of
the raspberries and whipped cream ]
The French Government apparently realise that the
f.mous restaurants of Paris are a national asset. There
was no shortage of waiters; aud, thotlgh the choice of
dishes was much more limited than it used to be, the
real curtailment extended only to cheese, sugar, and
butter. Our bread-tickets brought us as much bread as
we could reasouably expect.
One day, in the Rue de la Paix, I met a well-known
English producer of plays, and he piloted me to the
Café de Paris, which seemed to have lost nothing of its
special atmosphere of smartness and costliness. Louis

SHORT LEAVE TO PARIS 165

the Rotund, who in the early days of the war went off
to guard bridges and gasometers, was p]aying his more
accustomed rôle of maître d'ldtcl, explaining with suave
gravity the unpreventable altitude of prices. And for
ai least the tenth rime he told me how in his young-
man soldiering days he came upon the spring whose
waters have since become world-famous.
Another night I ascended Montmartre, and dined
under the volatile guidance of Paul, who used to be a
pillar of the Abbaye Theléme. Paul came once fo
London, in the halcyon days of the Four Hundred Club,
when nothing disturbed him more than open windows
and doors. " Keep the guests dancing and the windows
tight-closed, and you sell your champagne,"was his business
motto. However, he was pleased to see me again, and
insisted on showing me his own particular way of serving
Cantelupe melon. Before scooping out each mouthful
you inserted the prongs of your fork into a lemon, and
this lent the slightest of lemon flavouring to the luscious
sweetness of the melon.
America seemed fo be in full possession of the restau-
rant and boulevard lire of Paris during those August
days. Young American officers, with plent-y of money fo
spend, were everywhere. "You see," a Parisienne ex-
plained, "before the war the Americans we bad seen had
beeu mostly rich, middle-aged, business men. But when the
American oflicers came, Paris round that they were many,
that many of them were young as well as well-off, and
that many of them were well-off, young, and good-looking.
If is quite chic fo lunch or dine with an Amcrican officer."
The Americans carried out their propaganda in
their usual thorough, enthusiastic ïashion. I was takeu
to the Elysge Palace Hotel, where I found expcrienced
publicists and numbers of charming well-bred women

166 PUSHED, AND THE RETUR:N PUSH

busy preparing information for the newspapers, and
arranging public entertainments and sight-seeing tours
for American troops in Paris, all with the idea of em-
phasising that Americans were now pouring into France
in thousands. One night a smiling grey-haired lady
stopped belote a table where four of us, all ]3ritish
oflàcers, were dining, and said, " You're English, aren't
you? Well, bave you been with any of 'our boys'
• . ttave you seen them in action ? . . . They're fine,
aren't they ? " We were surprised, a little taken aback
at first, but we showed sympathetic understanding of the
American lady's enthusiasm, and responded in a Inanner
that left her pleased as ever.
:Before returning to the Front I got in a day's golf at
La Boulie, and also ruade a train journey to a village
the other side of Fontainebleau, where an old friend,
invalided from the French army, had settled on a con-
siderable estate, and thought of nothing but the fruits
and vegetables and dairy produce he was striving to
improve and increase. I did not visit many theatres; it
struck me that the Paris stage, like that of London, was
undergoing a war phase--unsophisticated, ready-to-be-
pleased audiences bringing prosperity to very mediocre
plays.
My journey back to the line included a stay at a
depot where ofiàcers were speedily reminded that they
had left the smooth luxuriousness of Paris behind them.
The mess regulations opened with "Try to treat the
mess as a mess and hot as a public-house," and con-
tained such additional instructions as, " Do hot place
glasses on the floor," and "Olficers will always see that
they are in possession of sufficient cash to pay mess bills."
I found the brigade three and a hall toiles in advance

SHORT LEAVE TO PARIS 167

of where I had left them. There had been a lot of stiff
fighting, and on our front the British forces had not
gone so far forward as the corps immediately south of
us had done. Big things were afoot, however, and that
very night batteries and Brigade Headquarters moved
up another three thousand yards. A snack of bully
beef and bread and cheese at 7 I.M., and the colonel
and a monocled Irish major, who was working under
the colonel as "learner" for command of a brigade,
went off to see the btteries. The adjutant and myself,
bound for he new Headquarters, followed ten minutes
later.
"You know that poor old Lamswell has gone," he
said, as we crossed a grassy stretch, taking a ruined
aerodrome as our guiding mark. "Poor chap, he was
wounded at the battery position the day after you left.
Only a slight wound in the leg from a gas-shell, and
every one thought he had got a comfortable 'Blighty.'
But gangrene set in, and he was dead in three days.
Beastly things those gas-shells! . . . Kent, too, got one
through the shoulder from a sniper, and he's gone fo
England. The colonel was with him at the O.P., and
tried to get the sniper afterwards with a rifle."
"How is the colonel ?" I asked.
"Oh, he's going very strong; active as ever. Colonel
 is back from leave and doing C.R.A. now. We're
under the mth Division at the moment."
"You remember Colonel who got the V.C. in
the Retreat," he went on; "he was killed on August
8th--went out to clear up a machine-gun pocket. .
Damned nice fellow, wasn't he ?"
We reached a narrow road, crowded with battery
ammunition waggons going up to the new positions.
Darkness had descended, and when you got off the road

168 PUSHED, AND THE RETURI PUSH

to avoid returning vehicles it was necessary to walk
warily to escape tumbling into shell-holes. " The
blighters have got a new way of worrying us now,"
went on the adjutant. "They've planted land-mines
all over the place, particularly near tracks. Lead-
horses are always liable to put a foot against the wire
that connects with the mine, and when the thing goes
off some one is nearly always hurt. D Battery had a
nasty experience this afternoon. Kelly tried to take a
section forward, and the Boche spotted them aud shelled
them to blazes. As they came back to get away from
observation one of the teams disturbed a land-mine.
The limber was blown up, and one driver and two
horses were killed.. . Look here, if we move off in
this direction we ought to save rime; the railway must
be over there and the place for our tIeadquarters is hot
far from it, in a trench where the O.P. used to be."
We found ourselves on some shell-torn ground that
was cut up also by short spans of trenches. One part
of it looked exactly like another, and after ten minutes
or so we decided that we were wandering to no purpose.
" There are some old German gun-pits close by," panted
the adjutant in further explanation of the place we
were seeking. All at once I saw a rhin shaft of light,
and blundered my way towards it. It proved to be
a battery mess, ruade in a recess of a trench, with a
stout tarpaulin drawn tight over the entrance. I hailed
the occupants through the tarpaulin, and on their invita-
tion scrambled a passage inside. A young captain and
two subalterns listened to what I had to say, and gave
me map co-ordinates of the spot on which we now
were. When I mentioned German gun-pits the captain
responded with more helpful suggestions. " It's difficult
finding your way across country, because the trenches

SHORT LEAYE TO PARIS 169

wind about so, but follow this trench as it curves to the
right, and when you corne to an old lritish dug-out
blown right in, go due north across country; then you'll
corne to the railway," he said.
We thanked him, plodded on, reached a point on the
railway quite half a mlle beyond the spot we wanted,
and then out of the darkness heard the voice of Henry
of C lattery, We drew near, and found him in the
mood of a man ready to fight the whole world. "Data
fools," he grumbled: "there's a sergeant of A lattery
who's taken a wrong turning and gone into the blue,
and hall a dozen of my waggons have followed him..
And l lattery have a waggon tipped over on the
railw.ay line, just where we all cross, and that's holding
everything else up."
As we could be of no assistance to the distressful
tIenry we continued our own search, and, by hailing ail
within call, eventually reached out trench, where we found
the colonel, always in good mood when something practical
wanted doing, superintending tIeadcluarters' occupation of
the place. "Major Mallaby-Kelby, the doctor, the adju-
tant, and myself can fix up under here," he said, pointng
to a large tarpaulin fastened acoss the trench. "The
signallers have got the mined dug-out round the corner,
and you," he went on, referring to me, "had better
start fixng Wilde and yourself up. We'll make that
gun-pit with the camouflaged roofing into a mess
to-morrow."
With the ad of the servants I gathered six long two-
inch planks, and placed them across the part of the
trench that seemed best protected from enemy shells. A
spare trench cover pulled full stretch on top of these
planks lent additional immunity from tain. A little
shovelling to level the bottom of the trench, aad Wilde's

170 PUSHED, AND THE RETURbl PUSH

servant and mine laid out our valises. A heap of Ger-
man wicker ammunition-carriers, sorted out on the
ground, seved as a rough kind of mattress for the
colonel. The doctor had fastened upon a si)are stretcher.
In hall an hour we were all seeking sleep.
Zero hour was at 1 A.M., a most unusual rime for the
infantry to launch an attack. But this would increase
the element of surprise, and the state of the moon
favoured the enterprise. When hundreds of guns started
their thunder I got up to see, and found the doctor on
the top of the trench also. Bursts of flame leapt up
ail around, and for toiles to right and left of us. The
noise was deafening. When one bas viewed scores of
modern artillery barrages one's impressions become
routine impressions, so to speak; but the night, and
the hundreds and hundreds of vivid jumping flashes,
ruade this l ,.M. barrage seem the most tremendous,
most violently terrible of my experience. The doctor,
looking a bit chilled, gazed long and solemnly at the
spectacle, and for once his national gift of expressing his
feelings failed him.
When news of the results of the operation came to
us if was of a surprising character. OEhe infantry had
moved forward under cover of the barrage, had reached
their first objective, and continued their advance two
mlles without encountering opposition. The ]oche had
stolen away before our guns loosed off their fur),. I
only saw three prisoners brought in, and some one tried
to calculate the thousands of pounds worth of ammuni-
tion wasted on the " barrage." A message came that we
were to hold ourselves in readiness fo rejoin out own
Divisional Artillery; our coinpanion Field Artillery
Brigade, the --rd, would match also. At 6.30 1)..
the orders arrived. We were fo trek northwards, about

SHORT LEAVE TO PARIS 171

four thousand yards as the crow flies, and be in touch
with our C.R.A. early next morniug.
That uight rain fell in torrents. When we had dined,
and all the kit had been packed up, we sheltered in the
gun-pit, awaiting our horses and the baggge-waggons.
As the rain found fresh ways of coming through the
leaky roof, we shifted the boxes on which we sat; all of
us except the colonel, who, allowing his chin to sink
upon his breast, slept peacefully for three-quarters of an
hour. It was pitch-dark outside, and the trench had
become a glissade of slimy mud. It was certain that the
drivers would miss their way, and two of the signallers
who had gone out to guide them along the greasy track
from the railway crossing had corne back after an hour's
wait. After a rime we ceased trying to stem the rivulets
that poured into tho gun-pit; we ceased talking also, and
gave ourselves up to settled gloom, all except the colonel,
who had picked upon the one dry spot and still slept.
ut things mostly corne right in the end. The rain
stopped, a misty moon appeared; the vehicles came
along, and by 10.30 P.M. the colonel was on his mare,
picking a way for out little column around shell-holes,
across water-logged country, until we struck a track
leading direct to Meaulte, where the Brigade had been
billeted during 1915. It was a strangely silent match.
There was a rumbling of guns a long way fo north of us,
and that was all. The Boche had undoubtedly stolen
away. For a long rime the only sound was the warning
shout, passed from front to rear, that told of shell-holes
in the roadway.
On the outskirts of the village we saw signs of the
ttun evacuation: deserted huts and stables, a couple of
abandoned motor-lorries. The village itself was a wreck,
a dust-heal), hot a wall left whole after out terrific bom-

172 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

bardments. Not a soul in the streets, not a single house
habitable even for troops. Of the mill that had been
Brig'ade Hèadquarters three years before, one tiny frag-
ment of a red-brick wall was left. The bridge in front
of it had been scattered to the winds; and such deep
shell-craters pitted the ground and received the running
water, that the very river-bed had dried np. On the
other side of the village batteries of our own and of our
companion brigade moved slowly along. It was 2 ,..
when we encamped in a wide meadow off the road.
When the horses had been tethered and fed and the
men had erected their bivouacs, the colonel, Major
Mallaby-Kelby, and we rive remaining officers turned
into one tent, pulled off boots and leggings, and slept
the heavy dreamless sleep of healthily tired men.
At 7 t.M. the colonel announced that he and myself
would ride up to Bécourt Chateau to visit the C.R.A.
We touched the southern edge of Albert, familiar to
thousands of British soldiers. The last rime I had been
there was on my return from leave in January 1917,
when I diued and slept at the newly-opened otIicers'
club. Since the Boche swoop last March it had become
a target for British gunners, and seemed in as bad a
plight as the village we had corne through the night
before. We had no rime to visit it that morning, and
trotted on along a road lined with unburied German
dead, scattered ammunition, and broken German vehicles.
The road dipped into a wood, and the colonel showed me
the first battery position he occupied in France, when he
commanded a 4"5 how. battery. Eécourt Chateau was
so much a chateau now that Divisional Headquarters
were living in tents outside. Four motor-cars stood in
the courtyard; some thirty chargers were tied to the
long high railings; motor despatch-iders kept coming

SHORT LEAVE TO PARIS 173

and going. I.A. were on the far side of the chateau,
and when our grooms had taken our horses we leapt a
couple of trenches and ruade our way to the brigade-
major's tent. The brigade-major was frankly plcased
with the situation. "We are going right over the old
ground, sir," he told the colonel, "and the Boche has not
yet ruade a proper stand. Our Divisional Infantry are
in the line again, and the latest report, timed 6 A.M.,
cornes from Montauban, and says that they are approach-
ing Trones Wood. We shall be supporting them to-
morrow morning, and the C.R.A. is anxious for positions
to be reconnoitred in X 10 and X 11. The C.R.A. has
gone up that way in the car this morning."
I looked into an adjoining tent and found the liaison
officer from the heavies busy on the telephone. "A 5"9
battery shooting from the direction of Ginchy. Right!
You can't give me a more definite map-spotting ?
Right-o! We'll attend to it! Give me counter-
batteries, will you ?"
"Heavies doing good work to-day ?" I asked.
" Rather," he returned happily. "Why, ve've got a
couple of 8-inch hows. as far up as Fricourt. That's
more forward than most of the field-guns."
As I stepped out there came the swift screaming rush
of three high-velocity shells. They exploded with an
echoing crash in the wood below, near where my horse
and the colonel's had been taken to water. A team
came up the incline toward the chateau af the trot,
and I looked rather anxiously for our grooms. They
rode up within two minutes, collectedly, but each with
a strained look. " Did those corne anywhere near you ?"
I inquired. "We just missed 'em, sir," replied Lane-
ridge. "One of them dropped right among the horses
at one trough."

174 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

By the colonel's orders I rode back to the waggon
lines soon afterwards, bearing instructions to the battery
commanders to join the colonel at half-past one. The
Brigade might expect to move up that evening.
The battery commanders came back by tea-time with
plans for that evening's move-up completed. The waggon
lines during the afternoon were full of sleeping gunners ;
a sensible course, as it proved, for at 6.45 P..i. an
orderly brought the adjutant a pencilled message from
the colonel who was still with the C.R.A. It ran--

Warn batteries that they must have gun limbers
and firing battery waggons within 1000 yards of •
their positions by 3.30 ,.M., as we shall probably
move at dawn. Headquarters will be ready to start
after an early dinner. I am returning by car.

" Hallo ! they're expecting a big advance to-morrow,"
said the adjurant. The note also decided a discussion in
which the adjurant, the signalling officer, and the cook
had joined as to whether we should dine early and pack
up ready to go, or pack up and have dinner when we
got to the new position behind Mametz Wood.
It was a dark night again; other brigades of artillery
were taking the saine route as ourselves, and, apart from
the congestion, our own guns had shelled this part so
consistently since August 8 that the going was heavy
and hazardous. We passed one team with two horses
down; at another point an 18-pdr. had slipped into
a shell-hole, and the air rang with staccato shouts of
« I-Ieave !" while two lines of men strained on the drag-
ropes. We reached a damp valley that lay west of
a stretch of tree-stumps and scrubby undergrowth--
remlmnts of what was a thick leafy wood before the

SHORT LEAVE TO PARIS 175

hurricane bombardments of July 1916. D Battery had
pulled their six hows. into the valley; the three 18-pdr.
batteries were taking up positions on top of the eastern
slope. Before long it became clear that the Boche 5"9
gunners had nmrked the place down.
" I'm going farther along to X 30 A, and shall stay
with the Infantry brigadier," the colo,ml told me in his
quick incisive way. "Major Mallaby-Kelby and the
adjurant will corne with me. You will stay here with
Wilde, and pass orders from us to the batteries. There
are some Boche huts in that bank, and I picked one
for you this afternoon."
There was indeed a row of beautifully made wooden
huts, quite new, covered with waterproof felt, lined with
match-boarding, and fitted with cupboards and comfort-
bringing devices. The Boche has no scruples about
cutting down trees in an enemy country for material
for his dwelling-places, but he also seems to possess an
unlimited number of workmen, who lavish skill and
care in making them pleasant to live in. Major Yeasey
had taken possession of a truly palatial hut for his
mess. "Our infantry only got here to-day," he said,
"and they captured some of the men who were adding
the finishing touches." Major Simpson and Major
Bartlett had set up a joint mess, and there was an
ample supply of wire beds. Major Bullivant's officers
were housed three hundred yards away.
Wilde came in full of a dispute he had had with
Durable as to whether Headquarter signallers or A
Battery's servants should occupy a certain dug-out with
a corrugated-iron roof. "Durable said he was there
first, and claimed it on that ground," said Wilde,
"but I told him the colonel had said I could bave if,
nd that concluded the entertainment."

176 PUSHED, AND THE RETURIç PUSH

We had left "Swiffy," the veterinary officer, at the
waggon line, but the doctor had accompanied us, and he
was first to curl himself up on his stretcher. Wilde and
I posted ourselves on a couple of rised wire beds.
The adjutant always said that the doctor was able to
snore in rive different keys. He started off that night
with a series of reverberating blasts that caused Wilde
to laugh hysterically and call out, " For Heaven's sake,
doc., be quiet, or you'll give the position away to the
Boche." But the doctor didn't hear the appeal; nor
did he wake up when three high-velocity shells landed
a hundred yards away on the hill behind us. The huts
were, of course, on the wrong side of the valley from
our point of view of Boche shelling, and many more
shells whizzed shrilly over our heads belote the night
was out.
Hall an hour after we had fallen asleep an orderly
woke me with a "secret" communication that gave 4.50
M. as zero hour, and I circulated the news to the
batteries. Some time later the telephone bell aroused
me, and the adjutant said he wanted to give me the
time. Some one had knocked over my stub of candle,
and after vainly groping for it on the floor, I kicked
Wilde, and succeeded in making him understand that
if he would light a candle and check his watch, I would
hang on to the telephone. Dazed with sleep, Wilde
clambered to his feet, trod once or twice on the doctor,
and lighted a candle.
" Are you ready ?" asked the voice at the other end
of the telephone. " Ready, Wilde ?" said I in my turn.
"l'll give it you when it's four minutes to one . .
thirty seconds to go," went on the adjutant.
Now Wilde always says that the first thing he heard
a.s my calling "thirty seconds to go" and that I did

SHORT LEAVE TO PARIS 177

not give him the " four minutes to one " part of the
ceremony. I always tell him he must bave been hall
asleep, and didn't hear me. Ai any rate, the dialogue
continued like this--
Adjurant (over the telephone to me)- "Twenty
seconds fo go."
Me (to Wilde)- "Twenty seconds fo go."
Wilde" "Twenty seconds."
Adjutant- "Ten seconds to go."
Me" " Ten seconds."
Wilde- "Ten seconds."
Adjuant- "Five seconds."
Me- "Five."
"Wilde • "Flve.
Adjurant" "Now! Four minutes to one."
]Vie. "OW! Four minutes fo one."
Wilde (blankly)- "tut you didn't tell me what rime
it was going to be."
If was useless arguing, and I had to ring up the
adjurant again. As a matter of fact if was the colonel
who answered, and supplied me with the "rive seconds
fo go" information; so there was no doubt about the
correctness of the time-taking on this occasion, and after
I had gone out and roused an ofiicer of each battery, and
lnade hiln check his watch, I turned in again and sought
sleep.

178

VIII. TRONES WOOD AGAIN

FOR three hours after zero hour our guns spat tire, fining
down from four rounds a gun a minute to the slow rate
of one round each minute. The enemy artillery barked
back furiously for the first two hours, but got very few
shells into our valley; and after a time we paid little
heed to the 5"9's and 4"2's that dropped persistently on
the top of the western slope. An 8-inch that had
landed in the valley about midnight had wrought
frightful execution, however. Another brigade lay next
to us; in fact one of their batteries had occupied a
position intended for our C ]attery. The shell fell
with a blinding crash among their horses, which they
had kept near the guns in readiness for the morn-
ing; and for hall an hour the darkness was pierced by
the cries and groans of wounded men, and the sound of
revolvers putting horses out of their pain. Four drivers
had been killed and twenty-nine horses knocked out.
"A lucky escape for us," was the grim, hot unsym-
pathetic comment of C Battery.
All through the morning the messages telephoned
to me indicated that the fighting up forward had been
hard and relentless. Our infantry had advanced, but
twice before eleven o'clock I had to dash out with
S.O.S. calls; and at intervals I turned each battery

TRONES WOOD AGAIN 179

on to enemy points for which special artillery treat-
ment was demanded.
The colonel ordered Wilde and myself to join the
forward Headquarters party after lunch. We found
them in a small square hut, built at the foot of a
range of hills that rose almost sheer 200 feet up, and
curled round north-east to Catterpillar Valley in which
our batteries had spent a bitter punishing rime during
the third week of July 1916. The hut contained four
wire beds and a rive-foot shaft in one corner, where a
solitary telephonist crouched uncomfortab]y at his task.
The hut was so cramped for space that one had to shift
the table--a map-board laid upon a couple of boxeswin
order to move round it.
The winding road outside presented a moving war
panorama that afternoon. Two Infantry brigades and
their staffs, and some of the battalion commanders, had
huts under the hillside, and by four o'clock battalions
returned from the battle were digging themselves
sheltering holes higher up the hillside. Boche pris-
oners in slow marching twenties and thirties kept
coming along also; some of them used as stretcher-
bearers to carry their own and our wounded; others
were turned on to the odd jobs that the Army call
fatigues. I found one long-haired, red-eyed fellow
chopping wood for our cook; my appearance caused 
signaller, noted for his Hyde Park Corner method of
oratory, to cease abruptly a turgid denunciation of the
Itun and all his works.
The talk was all of a counter-attack by which a
battalion of Prussian Guards had won back the eastern
corner of Trones Wood, one of the day's objectives.
One of the Infantry brigadiers, a tall, tireless, fighting
soldier, who started the war as a captain, had corne

180 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

round to discuss with the colonel artillery support for
tbe fresh attack his Brigade were to make at 5.45 I.M.
This brigadier was rather apt to regard 18-pounders as
rnachine-guns; and it was sometimes instructive to note
the cool good-humoured way in which the colonel guided
his enthusiasm into other channels. "You're giving me
one forward section of 18-pounders there," began the
brigadier, marking the map. " lIow,"--placing a long
lean forefinger on a point 150 yards behind our rnost
advanced infantry post," couldn't I have another little
fellow there ?that would tickle hirn up."
The colonel smiled through his glasses. "I don't
think we should be helping you more, sir, by doing
that.. I can shoot on that point with observed
tire as well from where the batteries are as frorn up
there; and think of the dificulty of getting arnmuni-
tion up."
« tight !" responded the General, and turned imrnedi-
ately to the subject of the 4"5 how. targets.
I went outside, and saw Judd at the head of the two
guns of B Battery, that were to be the forward section
in the attack, going by at the trot. As he passed he
gave me an "I'm for it" grin. I knew that he was
trotting his teams because the corner of the valley was
still under enemy observation, and had been shelled all
day. Bob Pottinger was following in rear.
Five rninutes after the two guns passed, the loche
began a hellish strafe upon a battery that had perched
itself under the crest of the hill. A couple of hundred
5"9's carne over, and we had a view of rapid awe-inspir-
ing bursts, and of men rushing for cover. " Good shoot-
ing that," remarked the colonel, who had corne to the
doorway.
The brigadier paid us anotlmr visit late that night.

TRONES WOOD AGAIN 181

tte was almost boyish in his glee. "A perfect little
show," he told the colonel. "Your forward guns did
very fine work indeed. And the 6-inch hows. gave
the wood an awful pasting. From the reports that
have come in we only. took seven Ioche prisoners;
practically all the rest were killed."
So we took our rest that night, content in the know-
ledge that things were going well. There being only
four beds, one of us would have to doss down on the
floor. The colonel insisted on COlning into our "odd
man out" gamble. The bare boards fell fo me; but
I slept well. The canvas bag containing my spare
socks fitted perfectly into the hollow of my hip--the
chief recipe for securing comfort on hard ground.
Rdveille was provided by the bursting of an 8-inch
shell on the other side of the road. If removed part
of the roof of our hut, and smothered the rest with
a ponderous shower of earth. We shaved and washed
by the roadside, and Major Mallaby-Kelby contrived a
rapid and complete change of underclothing, also in the
open air.
Iy 8.30 A.M. the colonel, Major Mallaby-Kelby, and
the battery commanders were walking briskly through
the valley and on to the rolling country beyond, recon-
noitring for positions to which the batteries would move
in the afternoon. Wilde and myself accompanied them,
and as Judd and Iob Pottinger were also of the party
I heard more details of what I Iattery's forward section
had done the evening before.
"I saw you turn into the valley at the trot," I said
to Judd.
"Yes, by Gad," he replied; "and when we got into
the valley we made it a canter. Those dead horses will
.how you what the valley has been like."

182 IUSttED, AND THE RETURI PUSH

We were striding through the valley now--a death-
trap passage, two hundred yards across at its widest
point, and less than three-quarters of a toile long. I
counted twenty-seven dead horses, lying in grotesque
attitudes, some of them cruelly mangled. The narrow-
gauge railway had become scattered bits of scrap-iron,
the ground a churned waste of shell-holes.
"And the worst of it was that the traces of the
second team broke," Pottinger chimed in. "Judd had
gone on ahead, and we hadn't any spare traces. So I
sent that team b«ck out of the way, followed the first
gun, and brought the team back to take up the second
gun. Damned good team that, E sub-section. You
remember the team we were training for the 'A]arm
Race' when we were out at St Saveur ? That's the
one. . And the old Boche was peppering the valley
all the rime."
" Did the Boche shell much during the attack ?"
I asked.
"Well," continued Pottinger, "he gave the guns most
of the shelling-. I was shooting the battery and
Judd was doing F.O.O. with the infantry,--and where
Judd was if was mostly macbine-guns."
" Yes," said Judd, " I got the wind-up with those
machine-guns. I couldn't find the battalion head-
quarters at first, and it was 150 yards from the wood.
The first lot of nachine-gun bullets went in front of
me; one plopped into a bank just past my foot. It was
data funny. I spun right round.. . But the infantry
colonel, the colonel of tbe s, wus a brave man. Ve
only had a tiny dug-out, and every time you got out the
machine-gun started. But he didn't mind; he got out
and saw for himself everything that was going on.
Didn't seem to worry him at all. . . And I shall never

TRONES WOOD AGAIN 183

forger the way the heavies lammed it into the wood.
They had hall an hour, six batteries of 6-inch howitzers,
before the 18-pounders put in a rive minutes' burst of
shrapnel.. They say the wood is choked with German
dead."
It was this self-same colonel who wrote to his brigadier
commending the fine work of Judd and lottinger on that
day. Before October was out each was wearing the M.C.
ribbon.
Battery positions being selected, the colonel, Major
Mallaby-Kelby, and myself cast round for a headquarters.
Some machine-gunners had taken possession of the only
possible dug-outs. However, there were numerous huts,
abandoned by the Hun, and I was chalking our claire on
a neat building with a latehed door and glass windows,
and a garden-seat outaide, when the colonel, who was
gazing through his binoeulars at the long, dense, hillside
wood that marked the eastern edge of the valley, said in
his deeisive way, "What's that Swiss ehâlet at the top of
the gully in the centre of wood ? . . . Looks a proper
sort of place for headquarters! . . . Let's go and in-
spect it."
The view through the binoeulars was hot deeeptive;
indeed, when we plunged into the wood and ruade the
steep elimb up to the ehâlet, we passed rive or six beau-
tifully built huts hidden among the trees. The ehâlet
was equipped with a most attractive verandah; a hundred
feet below stood a larger wooden building, eovered with
black felt and lined with match-boarding. The main
room possessed tables obviously ruade by expert ear-
penters, and a roomy beneh, with a sloping baek, that
went round two sides of the apartment. An inner bed-
room contained a wood-framed bed with a steel spring-
mattress and a number of plush-bottomed ehairs. The

184, PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

Boche had extended his craftsmanship to the neat slats
that covered the joinings of the wall-planks and kept out
draughts. All the wood used was new and speckless,
and smelt sweet and clean. The other huts were con-
structed with similar attention to detail. Also, one came
across tables and benches in shady nooks, and arbours
of the kind found in German beer-gardens.
"Jehoshaphat," gasped Major Mallaby-Kelby, "this is
indeed the height of war luxury." The colonel, who was
going on leave next day, hot having been in England
since the early part of January, smiled in his turn, and
jested upon the desirability of delaying his departure
until we vacated this delightful retreat. Wilde and
myself nosed about joyously, chalking the naine of our
unit on every door within reach. From a Boche artil-
lery map picked up in the chalet we concluded that the
place nmst have been the summer quarters of a Hun
artillery group commander.
And then without warning our satisfaction was changed
to disappointment. Major Mallaby-Kelby had just called
out that the place was so complete that even a funk-hole
had been provided, when a gunner emerged.
"What are you doing here ?" inquired the major in
surprise. "
"I'm left here until out brigade headquarters corne in,
sir," the gunner replied promptly.
"What brigade ?"
" The --rd, sir," said the gunner, naming our com-
panion Artillery Brigade.
" When did Colonel take over ? " asked the
colonel.
"About an hour ago, sir. tIe left me to look after
the place until Brigade tIeadquarters came in this after-
noon."

TROIES WOOD AGAII 185

We looked solemnly atone another. "We've been
forestalled," said the colonel with mock despair. Then
with brisk decision, " Wel], there are plenty more huts
about here. We'll hurry up and get settled beforo other
people corne along."
The colonel left us during the afternoon. The C.R.A.'s
car was to corne for him at headquarters waggon line
early next morning. The doctor, who was now living
with the veterinary ofiicer and the French interpreter
at the waggon line, had visited our new Cluarters in the
wood, and hoicked off' our ]ast but one bott]e of whisky.
I had despatched a frantic S.O.S., coupled with 100
francs in cash, to the colonel, begging him take the
interpreter to Boulogne so as to replenish our mess sup-
plies. Our good friends of the --rd Brigade had occupied
the ch'let, and received one sharp reminder that the
]oche gunner was still a nasty animal. A high-velocity
shell had hit the edge of the gully not ten yards from
them, and their adjutant and their intelligence officer had
described to me their acrobatic llunge into the funk-
ho]e. Major Mallaby-Ke]by was commanding our Brigade
in the absence of the colonel, and already our signal-
wires buzzed with reports that indicated a very short
sojourn in our new home in the wood.
I ara making this narrative a plain matter-of-fact
record of incidents and episodes in the career of our
Brigade--which, let it be noted, was in action from
August 1, before the British advance commenced, until
November 4, the day of the final decisive thrust--
because such an account, however poorly told, ofirs a
picture of real war: the war that is by no means one
continuous stretch of heroism and martyrdom in excelsis,
of guns galloping to death or glory, of bayonets dripping

186 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

with ene'ny blood, of " our gallant lads" meeting danger
and destruction with "characteristic British humour and
cheerfulness," when they are hot " seeing red." On
that 29th of August, when Major Mallaby-Kelby as-
sumed com.nand, we knew that the campaign had taken
a deiïnite turn in our favour, but none of us expected
the Boche to be so harried and battered that by ove.nber
he would be suing for peace. And I a'n stating bald
unimaginative fcts if I say that one of the "nain aspira-
tions a'nong officers and .nen was to continue the advance
in such a way as fo "nake sure of decent quarters o'
nights, and to drive the Gcr'nans so hard that when
winter set in we should be clear of the foul .nud tracts
and the rat-infested trenches that had formed the battle-
fields of 1915, '16, and '17. Major Mallaby-Kelby was
a keen pushful ofiicer, i.nmensely eager to maintain the
well-known eiïiciency of the Brigade while the colonel
was away ; but he took me into his confidence on another
,natter. " Look here !" he began, jocularly and with a
sweeping gesture. " I'n going to ask you to .nake sure
that the mess never runs out of white wine. It's .nost
i.nportant. Unless I get whie wine .ny efficiency will
be impaired." I replied with due sole,nnity, and said
that in this important matter our interpreter should be
specially com.nissioned to scour the countryside.
]y 1 P.M. it beca.ne so certain that the ene'ny had
inaugurated a retreat that the .najor issued orders for
the Brigade to move forward three toiles. We marched
steadily down the valley through which Judd and lot -
tinger tmd passed on their forward-section adventure,
skirted the wood that they had assisted the Divisional
Infantry to recapture, and halted for further instructions
west of a deserted colony of battered issen huts, gaping
holes and broken bricks shovelled into piles, still entered

TRONES WOOD AGAIN 187

on the maps as the village of Guillemont. It would have
been a truer description to paint on the sign-boards, "This
was Villers Carbonnel," as has been done atone desolate
spot between Peronne and Villers Bretonneux. Along the
valley we had passed were row after row of solidly-built
stables left uncleaned and smelly by the fleeing Hun;
rotting horses smothered with flies; abandoned trucks
marooned on the few stretches of the narrow-gauge
railway left whole by our shell-fire. In the wood stood
numerous Boche-built huts, most of them put up since
the Match onslaught. The Boche, dirty cur that he is,
had deliberately fouled them before departing. The
undulating waste land east of Trones Wood, hallowed by
memories of tierce battles in 1916, had remained un-
troubled until the last few weeks; and the hundreds of
shell-holes, relics of 19 l 6, had become grass-grown.
The humnocky greenness reminded one of nothing so
much as a seaside golf-course.

188

IX. DOWN THE ROAD TO COMBLES

A ATTERY had been ordered to move about half a mile
beyond Guillemont, and to corne into action off the road
that led towards the extensive, low-lying village of
Combles, through which the enemy front line now tan.
Major Mallaby-Kelby had gone forward and the three
remaining batteries awaited his return.
I clambered my horse over the shell-holes and rubbish
heaps of Guillemont, a preliminary to a short reconnais-
sance of the roads and tracks in the neighbourhood. Old
Silvertail, having become a confirmed wind-sucker, had
been deported to the Mobile Veterinary Section; Tommy,
the shapely bay I was now riding, had been transferred
to me by out ex-adjurant, Castle, who had trained him
tobe well-mannered and adaptable. "A handy little
horse," was Castle's stock description, until his increasing
weight ruade Tommy too snmll for him. I had ridden
about six hundred yards past the sunken road in which
A tattery's ammunition waggons were waiting, when
half a dozen 5"9's crashed round and about tbem.
turned back and saw more shells descend among the
empty issen huis in Guillemont. Two drivers of A
Battery were being carried away on stretchers and the
waggons were coming towards me ata trot. They halted
four hundred yards from the spot where they had been

DOWN THE ROAD TO COM]LES 189

shelled, and young Beale said they counted themselves
lucky hot to have had more casualties.
The Boche by now had got his guns in position and
began a two hours' bombardment of Guillemont and its
cross-roads. It was hot until 7 e.M. that Major Mallaby-
Kelby returned. He was tired, but anxious to go for-
ward. "We are the advanced Brigade for to-morrow's
show," he said. "The battery positions are only 1600
yards from the Boche, but I think they will be compara-
tively sale.. I want you all to corne along and we'll
arrange a headquarters, l've got my eye on a sunken
Nissen hut. There's a section commander of another
brigade in it, but .it ought tobe big enough to hold us
as well."
So the major, the adjurant, Wilde, and myself walked
ata smart pace along the road to Combles. The Boche
shells were mostly going over out heads, but whizz-bangs
now and again hit the ground to left and right of us; a
smashed limber had not been cleared from the road, and
fifty yards short of the railway crossing four decomposing
horses emitted a sickening stench. "We'll have our
headquarters waggon line along there first thing to-
morrow," announced the major, stretching a long arm
towards a side-road with a four-foot bank.
At the forsaken railway halt we turned off the road-
way and followed the line, obeying to the letter the
mujor's warning to bend low sud creep along under cover
of the low embankment, "Now we'll slip through here,"
said the major, after a six-hundred-yards' crawl. We
hurried through what had been an important German
depot. There was one tremendous dump of eight-gallon,
basket-covered wine bottles--empty naturally; a street
of stables and dwelling-huts ; a small mountain of mouldy
hay; and several vast barns that had been used for

190 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

storing clothing and material. Each building was pro-
tected from our bombers by rubble revetments, fashioned
with the usual German carefulness. "They shell here
pretty consistently," added the major encouragingly, and
we ruade for more open land that sloped up towards a
well-timbered wood on the wide-stretched ridge, a thou-
sand yards away. The sparse-covered slopes were dotted
with living huts, ail built since the ]oche recovered the
ground in his Mareh push. "A Battery have moved to
within two hundred yards of Leuze Wood now--you can
sec the guns," resumed the major. "The other battery
positions are on the southern side of the road. The place
I have in my eye for headquarters is close to A Battery."
The German artillery had quite evidently understood
the likelihood of British batteries occupying the slope,
and were acting accordingly. Our party had reached a
smashed but tbree hundred yards from A Battery, when
the whine of an approaching she]l caused us to drop to
ground ; it fell fifty yards away, and the air became dense
with flying pieces of shell and earth showers. As we
raised ourselves again we saw Beadle walking at an even
pace towards us. "Not a nice spot, sir," he began,
saluting the major. "We picked that place for a mess"
--pointing fo the broken hut--"and rive minutes later
a shell crashed into it. There's a dead horse round the
corner ....
"IIave you been shelled much at the battery ?" de-
manded the major.
"We had two sergeants killed a quarter of an hour
ago, sir... Captain Durable is arranging to shift the
guns a bit north of the present position,do you approve
of that, sir ?"
"Yes, certainly," responded Major Mallaby-Kelby
hastily. "If the direction of the shelling indicates that

DOWN THE ROAD TO COMBLES 191

if would mean more safety for the battery I'm all for
.... OE "
shfftln¢. Beadle saluted and went away.
There was not as much spare room in the Nissen hut
as the major had thought. He asked me to " organise
things" and to « scrounge round " for a trench-cover fo
separate the subaltern and his gunners from our party;
but while I was dodging shells, making the search, he
round a small Boche combination hut aud dug-out. The
opening pointed the wrong way, of course; but there
was one tiny chamber twenty feet below ground with a
wooden bed in it, and upstairs a table, a cupboard, and
a large heap of shavings. It was now eight o'clock, and
the major remembered that he had not even had tea.
"Now what are we going to do about a meal ?" he
broke out. "We can't bave many servants up here,
there's no room . . and it will be difficult to gct the
mess cart up. low, who bas any suggestions ? On these
matters I like fo hear suggestions."
My own idea was that Meddings the cook, the major's
servant, and one other servant should bring up some
bully-beef, cheese, and bread, and bacon and tea for the
morning. Ail that we wanted could be carried in a
couple of sandbags. We could do without valises and
blankets that night. Zero hour for the battle was 5.15
_.. The mess cart could corne along afterwards. The
proposition was favourably received, the major's only
revision referring fo his white wine.
Headquarter waggons had remained the other side of
Guillemont, and I voluntecred to walk back and bring
the servants up. The major thought that Wilde ought
fo accompany me; it was not too p]easant a pilgrimage
with the Boche maintaining his shelling.
But as we climbed the stairs of the dug-out the major
made a further decision. "I think yol might as well

192 PUSHED, AND TttE RETURN PUSH

bring the mess cart," he called out. I paused. "ot
very easy to bring it round here in the dark, sir," I said,
and Wilde raised his eyebrows deI)recatingly.
" Yes, I think you had better bring it," continued the
major. "There are two officers, and besides, the drivers
have to learn the way to cerne here.... Don't forger
my bottle of white wine, old fellow," was his parting
reminder as Wilde and I set off.
The nature of the shelling caused us to direct out
steis through the ]oche depot towards the railway again.
"Pity we didn't have something to eat belote we cane
up here," growled Wilde. "What road are we going to
bring the cart along when we corne back ? There's no
proper track when we get off the main road."
I looked back towards the hut in which we had left
the major and the adjurant. There was little to dis-
tinguish it from several other huts. "There's the led
Cross station and that big wooden building at the
corner; I think we shall recognise them again," I
said.
"Do you see that signalling pole on the roadside ?
That's a pole crossing, and I know there's a track leading
off the road there," added Wilde shrewdly. "That's the
way we'd better bring the cart."
It was nearly dark when we reached the Guillemont
cross-roads. Small parties of infantrymen were coming
along, and ammunition and ration waggons. As we
turned up the road leading south-west, a square-shouldered
man with a stiff big-peaked cap saluted with the crisp
correctness of the regular soldier. I recognised the
sergeant-major of A Battery.
"Were you much shelled when you took your waggon
lines up there this evening ?" I asked him.
"Yes, sir. It got too hot, and Major Bullivant sent

DOWN TtIE ROAD TO COMBLES 193

us down again hall an hour ago. All the batteries
have shifted their waggon lines back behind Guillemont,
sir."
"All the more exciting for us," muttered Wilde. ty
the aid of my electric torch we picked our way along a
rough track that took us to our waggons. The drivers
and spare signallers were waiting orders to settle down
for the night. When I told the cook that we only
wanted bare necessities in the mess cart, he answered,
"That'll mean emptying the cart first. We've got
everything aboard now." Such things as the stove, the
spare crockery and cutlery, several tins of biscuits, and
the officers' kit were quickly dumped upon the ground,
and I told off one of the servants to act as guard over it
until the morning. "What about this, sir ?" inquired
the cook, opening a large cardboard box. "The inter-
preter sent it up this evening." I noted twenty eggs
and a cake. "Yes, put that in," I replied quickly.
Wilde detailed a signaller to accompany the driver of
the cart, and, with Meddings and two of the servants
walking behind, the journey commenced. A ten-minutes'
hold-up occurred when Captain Denny of B tattery, a
string of waggons behind him, shouted my naine through
the darkness. He wanted the loan of my torch for a
brief study of the shell-holes, as he intended establishing
the battery waggon lines in the vicinity.
The Boche had sçarted his night-firing in earnest by
the rime the mess cart and party passed the cross-roads
at Guillemont. A pungent snell of gas led fo much
coughing and sneezing. The air cleared as the road
ascended, but shells continued to fly about us, and no
one looked particularly happy. There were nervy,
irritating moments when waggons in front halted un-
accountably; and, just before the railway crossing,
N

194 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUStt

Wilde had to go forward and coax a pair of I.E. mules,
who refused to pass the four dead horses lying in the
road. The railway crossing passed, we began to look for
the black-and-white signalling pole.
"ttere itis," called Wilde with relief, as a 5"9 sped
over us towards the railway line. "Corne along, Miller,"
he shouted to the mess-cart driver, fifty yards behind us.
The cart creaked and wobbled in the bumpy ditch-cross-
ing that led past the pole. "There's the big building,"
said I, going on ahead, "and here's the Red Cross place.
We're getting on fine. We'll tell M'Klown and Tommy
,,
Tucker that we'll apply for a job with the 9 8 0 company
(the A.S.C. eompany that supplied the Brigade with
forage and rations).
"We want to go half-right from here," I continued,
lighting up my torch for four or rive seeonds. The
track led, however, to the left, and we slowed our pace.
Another two hundred yards and we came to a junction;
one track curved away to the right, the other went back
towards the road.
A high-veloeity shell screamed over and burst with a
weird startling flash of flame a hundred yards away.
We followed the right-hand path, and round that it bent
to the left again. "This is getting puzzling," I said to
Wilde in a low voice. "I think we've corne right so
far," he replied, "but I shall be glad when we're
there."
We went on for another rive minutes, the cart follow-
ing. Then sudden]y the situation became really
worrying. We were facing a deep impassable trench.
"Damn!" said Wilde angrily. "I was af raid this would
happen."
"I don't think we can be more than a couple of
hundred ya«ds from where we want to get," I answered.

DOWN THE ROAD TO COMBLES 195

"It ought tobe in that direction. Let's give 'em a
hail."
"They'll be down below--they won't hear us," said
Wilde gloomily.
We stood up on the trench and called first the naine
of the Brigade and then the naine of the adjutaut. Not
a sound in reply. We shouted again, the servants join-
ing in. Another shell, bursting near enough to spray
the mess cart with small fragments! At last we heard
a cry, and shouted harder than ever. A figure came out
of the gloom, and I recognised Stenson, A Battery's
round-faced second lieutenant. "Ah! now we're all
right," I called out cheerfully. "You see how we're
tied up," I said, turning to Stenson. "Our headquarters
is close to your battery. 1hich is the way toit ?"
Stenson's face fell. "That's what I was hoping you
would tell me," he replied blankly. "l've lost myself."
There was a groan from Wilde.
"I left the battery about hall an hour ago because
some one was shouting outside in the dark," went on
Stenson. "I found a major sitting in a shell-hole; he
had lost his way trying to get back to the railway. I
managed to put him right--now I can't find the battery."
Another voice came from the far side of the trench,
and we peered af the newcomer. It was one of the
Brigade orderlies, who also had lost his way trying to
find an infantry battalion headquarters. I examined
him on his sense of direction, but all I got from him was
that if he could reach the road and see the fifth telegraph
pole from the wood, he would know that Brigade Head-
quarters lay on a line due north.
More shells dropped near, and I began to think of
Minnie, our patient mess-cart mare. We must get her
and the cart out of the way as soon as possible. Close

196 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN I:)USH

by stood a big /qissen hut, snk half-way below ground.
After consulting with Wilde, I told the servants to
unload the cart and carry the stuff into the hut. The
cart having gone, we went inside ; and, lighting a candle,
discovered the usual empty bottles and scattcred German
illustrated periodicals that indicate a hot too hurried
Boche evacuation. After a ten minutes' wait, during
which the Boche shelling increased in intensity, Stenson,
the orderly, and myself went forth with my torch, bent
upon trying all the tracks within reach until we found
the right one. And though we twice followed ways that
disappointed us, and turned and searched with a bitter
sense of bafllement, our final path led in the direction to
which I had first pointed. We round ourselves close to
the shell-stricken hut where I had met Beale of A
Battery earlier in the evening. "I know where we are
now," I shouted hilariously.
"Who's that ?" called some one sharply. I turned
my torch on to the owner of the voice. I t was Kelly of
D Battery, yet another lost soul. "I'm hanged if I
know where I ara," he explained angrily. " I can't find
the battery. I was going fo 1le down inside here until
it got light, . . but I have no matches, and I put my
hand on a clammy dead Boche."
"Get away with you!" I laughed. "That's a dead
horse. I saw it this afternoon."
Sure of my ground now, I walked comfortably to-
wards the dug-out where Major Mallaby-Kelby and
the adjurant were waiting. It was 11.15 1).[. now.
Tired and hungry and without candles, they had fallen
asleep.
"By Gad! you're back," ejaculated the major when I
touched him. "Have you brought my white
wine ?"

DOWN THE ROAD TO COMBLES 197

"It is coming, sir, before very long," I responded
soothingly.
I stood outside, fiashed my torch, and yelled for
Wilde. An answering shout was succeeded by Wilde
himself. "Why, we were quite close ail the rime," he
said in surprise.
"Now you go back with the orderly and bring
Meddings over with something to eat," I went on,
"every one's famished." Soon Meddings arrived, striding
across shell-holes and treacherons ground with a heavy
mess-box balanced on his head.
" Only bully beef to-night, sir," said Meddings to the
expectant major as he dumped the box on the itoor of
the hut.
"My dear fellow, I can eat anything, a crust or a dog-
biscuit, I'm so hungry."
Meddings raised the lid and we ail crowded round.
"By Gad! this is too much," snapped the major.
The box contained nothing but cups and plates and
8aucers.
When Meddings returned with a second box the
major and the adjutant seized some biscuits and munched
happily and voraciously. "¥ou devils," said the major,
• grinning reproachfully at Wilde and myself, "I ber you
had whiskies-and-sodas at the waggon line. Why were
you so long ?"
We didn't go into full explanations then, and I must
confess that when the major, in his haste, knocked the
bottle of white wine off the table and smashed it, Wilde
and myself could scarcely forbear a chuckle. That ought,
of course, to be the climax of the story; but it wasn't.
I had put two bottles of the major's white wine into
the mess cart, so the concluding note was one of content.
Also I might add, Stenson called upon us to say that

198 t'USHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

), Battery's mess cart had failed to arrive, and four
foodless officers asked us to have pity upon them. So A
Battery received a loaf and a big slab of the truly excel-
lent piece of bully, a special kind that Meddings had ob-
tained in some mysterious fashion from a field ambulance
that was making a hurried move. "You two fellows
have earned your supper," said the now peaceful major
to Wilde and myself. "I didn't think you were going
to have so trying a journey." We ate bully sandwiches
solidly until 1 ),.M. Then the major and the adjutant
descended to their little room below ground. I glanced
through 'The Times,' and then Wilde and myself round
a restful bed upon the shavings. The cook and the
servants had gone back to the lissen hut.
The major's last words as he fell asleep were, "I've
to be at the --th Infantry Brigade Headquarters at
4.45 in the morning. I think l'll take the adjutant
with me. . lo,"---sleepily,--"you'd better corne,
Wilde."
At 4 A.M., when the major's servant woke us, the
major called up the stairs to me, "I think, after all,
you'd better corne with me." As I had hot removed
my boots, it didn't take me long to be up and
ready.
Before we were fifty yards from the hut the major
and I shared in one of the narrowest escapes that have
befallen me in France. We heard the shell coming
just in time to crouch. According to Meddings, who
stood in the doorway of the hut, it fell ten yards
from us. Smothered with earth, we moved forward
rapidly immediately we regained our feet.
"We shall be right for the rest of the day after
that," panted the major. " The --th Brigade are in
the bank along the road from Leuze Wood to Combles,"

DOWN THE ROAD TO COMBLES 199

he added, reading from a message form. As we left
the dewy grass land and got on to the road that led
through the wood, other shells whistled by, but none
of them near enough to set our nerves tîngling again.
Indeed the state of mind of both of us seemed sanguine
and rose-coloured. "Fine bit of country this," said
the major in his quick jerky way, "and that purple
h«ze is quite beautiful. It ought to be lighter thon
this. It's not even half morning light yet. . .
My old uncle in County Clare would be sure to
call it dusk. tte often used to say when we were
arranging a day's fishing, 'Let me see, it will still be
dusk at 5 A.M.'"
The major drew an envelope from his pocket and
fixed his eyeglass. "Awkward thing sonetimes having
a double-barrelled name," he continued. "I remember
a bright young subaltern in a reserve brigade in Eng-
land, whose name was Maddock- Smith, or something
like that. l=Ie complained that the brigade clerk had
not noticed the hyphen, and that he was down to do
double duty as orderly officer--once as Maddock and
once as Smith."
We were now through the wood, and walking down
the hill direct to Combles. Everything seemed pro-
foundly quiet; not a soul in the road save ourselves.
"Seems strange," observed the major, frowning. "In-
fantry Brigade Headquarters ought to be about here.
They can't be much farther off. The starting line is
only a few hundred yards away."
"¥ou'd certainly expect to see plenty of messengers
and runners near  brigade headquarters," I put in.
"Hullo! here's some one on  bicycle."
It was a :New Zealand officer. "Can you tell me
where the--th Brigade Headcluarters are ?" he asked.

200 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

"We are looking for them ourselves," replied the
major. "I've to be there by 4.45, and it's past that
I1OW.
We went down to where a track crossed the road at
right angles. Still no one in sight. "Don't understand
it," remarked the New Zealand officer. "I'm going back
for more information."
The major and I remained about rive minutes longer
watching the haze that enveloped the village below
commence to lift. Then suddenly we heard the sharp
metallic crack of quick-firing guns behind, and dozens
of 18-pdr. shells whistled above us. The barrage had
started.
Almost immediately red Very lights went up within
a stone's-throw as it seemed to me. _And now Boche
lights leapt up on our left where the haze prevented us
seeing the Morval ridge, the highest ground in the
neighbourhood, and still in enemy hands. Presently
the devilish rattle of machine-guns rapped out, spread-
ing round the half-circle along which the alarm lights
were still soaring heavenwards.
" We can't do anything by staying here," decided the
major. "My place is with the Infantry Brigade, and I
must find them."
"We can report, at any rate, that the Boche lights
went up within a few seconds of the start of our
barrage, and that the enemy artillery replied within
four minutes," I remarked, looking at my wrist-watch,
as shells from the direction of the Boche lines poured
through the air.
"Yes, we can say that," responded the major, "and
, keep down!" ho called out violently.
A number of bullets had swished swiftly past us.
We kept close to the bank and walked, bending down,

DOWN THE ROAD TO COMBLES 20!

until we came again to the sunken portion of the
road.
"We can also report that this road was subjected
to machine-gun tire," concluded the major pointedly.
We ducked again with startled celerity just before
reaching the wood. This rime it was a. short-range
shell from one of our own guns--there was no RiS-
taking the wheezy, tinny sound of its passage through
the air. It fell in front of s on the edge of the
road, and delivered its shrapnel as vengefully as if it
had fallen in the Boche lines. As we came beyond
the wood we met young Stenson with a small party
of gunners. His face shone with expectancy. He
was on the way to man the forward gun that A Battery
had placed overnight under cover of a bank not far
from the road the major and I had just walked
along.
"Well, old fellow," remarked the major, removing
his steel helmet when we got back to headquarters,
"a cup of tea, and you'd better go straight down to
those trenches the other side of Guillemont and inquire
what has become of the Infantry Brigade. And you
can deliver our reconnoitring report."
It was a long walk, and I resolved to pick up my
horse for the return journey. The Infantry brigadier
was taking an early cup of tea when I found his
heatquarters. His brigade-major told me. that there
had been a change of plan, and the Brigade did hot
corne forward, as previously arranged. "We couldn't
tind you to let you know," he explained. "Show Re
the position of your headquarters on the map. .
we have our advanced headquarters not three hundred
yards from you, and you will tind the 2nd
headquarters near there too .... I'm sorry we

202 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

didn't let you know last night. But none of our
despatch-riders could find you."
I rode back the best part of the way, and found
the major, the adjutant, and Wilde fortifying them-
selves with eggs and bacon.
"We'll look round for a better protected head-
quarters than this af ter breakfast," said the major
briskly.
"When l've had a shave, sir," I answered appeal-
ingly. "I can't maintain my efficîency without a
shave, you know."

X. A MASTERLY TURNING MOVEMENT

/kUGUST 30: Before noon we learned that the battle
had gone not altogether our way. Our own Divisional
Infantry had fought well and scattered the Boche in the
low-lying village of Combles, but the Division on our
left had failed to force the enemy from the Morval
Heights. Consequently our infantry had been ordered
to withdraw their line slightly, while it remained im-
possible for the Field Artillery to push forward so long
as the Boche observers possessed the Morval ridge.
Our batteries, with an S.O.S. range of 1700 yards,
were close enough, as it was, to startle strict adherents
of siege-war principles. Indeed A Battery's forward
section, handled first by Durable and then by Stenson,
had boldly harassed the enemy nachine-gunners from
under 500 yards' range. Durable had already been
recommended for the Military Cross, and Major Bulli-
vant described Stenson's exploits while visiting Brigade
Headquarters during the afternoon.
"Yesterday," he told Major Mallaby-Kelby, "he took
a sniping gun on to the crest, and kept it in action for
four hours, firing 150 rounds. At one time he was
within three hundred yards of the enemy, tte wiped
out at least two infantry teams and waggons--although
the Bocho tried hard o knock his gun out with 5"9's
and whizz-bangs. This morning he fired 500 rounds

20' PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

over open sights, and the colonel of the s tells rue
he helped out infantry a lot. I understand that ruore
than once, when his gunners got tired, he 'layed' the
gun himself--not part of an officer's work, perhaps--
but he's a very sound youngster, and I should like to
get him soruething."
" I shall be pleased indeed fo put him in," responded
Major Mallaby-Kelby. "A word from tb.e infantry
would, of course, help."
Out new headquarters, nearer fo the Boche depot,
consisted simply of a deep stairless shaft with a 40
degrees slope. The props supporting the roof were fusty
with mildew and fungus, but the entrance faced away
from the German guns. As the colonel of the 2nd
--s was keen to be in liaison with us, he and his
adjurant and a couple of signallers shared the shaft.
The servants gatt,ered clean straw from the German
dump and strewed it down the shaft. Major Mallaby-
Kelby and the colonel, a slim soft-voiced young ruan at
least twenty-six years of age, with a proved reputation
for bravery and organising powers, had their blankets
laid side by side at the top of the shaft; the two
adjutants, plus telephones, came next; then a couple
of signallers with telephone switch-boards; and, lowest
of all, the doctor and myself. Wilde and his signallers,
the cook and his servants, had installed theruselves in
a roomy hut stuck in a big bank thirty yards away.
There was a sort of well at the top of the shaft, with
steps cut in the earth, leading down froru the ground-
level. We fastened a tarpaulin across the top of the
well and ruade it out ruess. If was hot unwise to pick
such a well-shielded nook; the Boche gunners fiung
shells about lnore in this neighbourbood than along the
slo[ve where the batteries were situated.

A MASTERLY TURNING MOVEMENT 205

We slept three nights in the shaft. Each morning
on awaking I discovered that I had slipped a couple of
yards downhill. I ruade further full acquaintance, too,
with the completeness of the doctor's snoring capa-
bilities. Down in that sha[t he must have introduced
a new orgy of nasal sounds. It commenced with a
gentle snuffling that rather resembled the rustling of
the waters against the bows of a racing yacht, and then
in smooth even stages crescendoed into one grand
triumphant blare.
September 1 proved a day of glory in the history of
the Division. Conferences of Generals, and dashing to
and fro of despatch-riders, produced ambitious plans for
an advance that would more than make up for the set-
back of August 30. A brigade of our own Divisional
Infantry was again to descend upon the village of
Combles, while another brigade, working on the flank,
would effect a turning novement northwards towards
Fregicourt, a hamlet twelve hundred yards north-east
of Combles. Meanwhile the Division on our left in-
tended to make a desperate effort to free the Morval
tIeights.
My task was to be brigade liaison ofiicer with the
--th Infantry Brigade, who had corne up overnight to
a quarry a quarter of a toile beyond D Battery's posi-
tion. It was a crisp invigorating day, with a nip in
the air that foretold the approach of autumn, and it
would have been a pleasant walk along the valley had
hot one constantly fo get to leeward of the dead horses
that littered the way. And I shall always recall a small
log-cabiu that stood isolated in the centre of the valley
--the sort of place that could mean lone settlers or
hermit hunters to imaginative boyhood. I felt drawn
fo the hut. The door hung ajar and I looked in. A

20 PUSHED, AND THE RETUR:N PUSH

young German infntry soldier, dead, his face palely
putty-like, his arms hanging loose, sat on a bench before
a plain wooden table. There was no disorder in the
hut. Many a rime have I seen sleeping men in more
grotesque attitudes. But the open jacket and the blood-
stained shirt told probably of a miserable being who had
crept inside to die.
A red triangular flag hanging limply from a lance
stuck in the chalk-bank near a roughly-contrived tar-
paulin and pit-prop shelter revealed the infantry briga-
dier's headquarters. The Brigade signalling officer hailed
me from a dug-out that flew the blue and white of the
signalling company. Outside the brigade-major's hut I
found Captain Drysdale of D Battery, and two other
gunner ofiicers. "We are kicking out heels, waiting for
news like newspaper correspondents during a Cabinet
crisis," said Drysdale with a bored smile. «I can't see
why they wnt so many liaison ofiicers .... I went
without my dinner to get here from the waggon line
last night, and haven't had breakfast yet; and these
people haven't told us a scrp of news yet."
« You're doing liaison for Division, aren't you ?" I
said, "and I'm for Brigade. They can't need us both."
"Except that the General told me he might require
me to go forward with him fo look for targets," replied
Drysdale.
"Well, if you like, you slip along to the battery for
breakfast, l'll hold the fort until you corne back."
There ws, indeed, until well on in the morning,
surprisingly little information fo be telephoned to the
Artillery. What news the Infantry brigade-major did
receive, however, was all to the good. The battalions
that went into Combles were going strong, and the
mopping-up was being done with the old-soldier

A MASTERLY TURNING MOVEMENT 207

thoroughness tht so many of the young lads who
only learnt war during the summer advance seemed to
acquire so rapidly. One of the companies engaged in
the turning movement had paid the penalty of over-
eagerness, and losing touch with a sister company had
been badly enfiladed by German machine-gunners; but
another company had rushed up to fill their place and
the movement was progressing towards its appointed
end.
A dozen Boche prisoners were brought in, dirty,
hollow-eyed, and furtive. "This one speaks English,
sir," said the dapper little private of the East----s,
who had charge of the party, addressing an intelligence
officer.
I spoke fterwards to this prisoner, a dark pale-faced
infantry man with staring eyes. His English was fair,
lthough he told me he had only visited England once,
for a fortnight--in London and Manchester. He had
been  telephone manufacturer's employee.
"¥ou were in Combles when you were captured ?"
I asked.
« eS."
"How long had you been in the line ?"
"Four days; we went down to Combles yeuterday
morning."
"Did your rations get up last night ?" I proceeded,
thinking of our all-night burst of tire on enemy cross-
roads and approaches.
"We took ours with us, but none came for the others
there. They had had nothing for two days."
The marching away of the prisoners prevented further
questions. Soon the Divisional Commander with his
attendant staff came up, and a conference in the
brigadier's headquarters was commenced. After hall

208 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

an hour the G.O.C. came out. His demeanour betokened
satisfaction. The manner in which he turned to speak
parting words to the brigadier indicated further activities.
A captain of the West ----s, who had been in reserve,
turned from watching him, and said to me, "I expect
we shall be performing this afternoon." Soon the phrase,
"exploiting initial success," ran from tongue to tongue.
This was the message that ai noon I telephoned fo our
adjurant :--
7th ----.s and East ----s will push forward
fighting patrols to exploit success in an easterly and
north-easterly direction into St Pierre Vaast Wood,
and along the road to S---- latrols will not
penetrate into squares X 120 and Z 130, as --th
Division will continue its advance in Y 140, a and c,
under a barrage very shortly.
Artillery bave been given tasks of harassing tire
east of St Pierre Vaast Wood, and will hot tire west
of line eastern edge of this wood to A 210, b 05.
Patrols must be pushed out without delay, as it is
the intention of the Divisional Commander to exploit
initial success with another brigade to-day.

"That's the stuff fo give 'em," chortled the Brigade
signalIing officer, who had been whipping round similar
messages to various units.
More prisoners kept coming in; the brigade-major's
telephone rang furiously; a heavily-moustached infantry
signaller, with a bar to his Military Medal, just back
from the eastern side of Combles, was telling his pals
how an oflicer and himself had stalked a Hun sniper.
" He was in a hole behind some trees," he said, "and
we were walkin' along, when he hit old Alf in the
foot."

A MASTERLY TURNING MOVEMENT 209

"Is old Alf all right ?" asked another signaller
quickly.
"Yes"--nodding and grinning--"he's got a nice
Blighty--he's all right. .. As I was sayin', he hit
old Alf in the foot, and Mr Biles says to me, 'We'll
get that blighter.' So we dropped, and Mr Biles crawled
away to the right and I went to the left. He popped
off again after about rive minutes, and I saw where the
shot came from. He had two other goes, and the second
time I saw his head. The next rime he pOloped up I
loosed off. . We went to bave a look aïterwards.
I'd got him right under the ear."
At three o'clock the brigade-major complained to us
that some 18-pdrs. were shooting short. "They mustn't
tire in that square," he said excitedly, "we're still mop-
ping up there."
I telephoned to our adjutant, who said he would
speak to our batteries. "We are hot firing there at all,"
he informed me rive minutes afterwards, and I reported
to the brigade-major.
Ten minutes later the brigade-major rushed angrily
out of his hut. "Look here!" he said, "that artillery
tire has started again. They've killed a subaltern and a
sergeant of the East ----s. You must do something!"
I rang up the adjutant again. "It isn't our people,"
he replied tersely. " It might be the--th Division on
our left," I suggested. "Can you get on to them ? "
" l'll get Division to speak to them," he replied.
By rive o'clock the number of prisoners roped in by
the Division was hot far short of a thousand; the
Division on the left had gained the Morval ridge, and
this, combined with the turning movement from the
soutb, had brought about something like debacle among
the enemy forces opposed to us. "That's topping," said
O

210 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUStt

the brigade-major when receiving one particular tele-
phone report, and he looked up with a laugh. "The
----s bave captured a Boche ambulance waggon, and
they have sent it down for receipt on delivery, with
horses and driver complete."
lot long afterwards I met Major Veasey, hot and
radiant after one of the big adventures of the day. tte
had gone forward with Kelly, and discovered that the
infantry were held up by tierce machine-gun tire. "I
was afraid all the rime that the major's white breeches
would give the show awuy," Kelly told me, "but we
crawIed on our beIIies to ubout a hundred yards from
the machine-guns--there were two of 'em--and got the
exact spot. We went back and told the battery where
fo tire, and then went forward for another look."
"]y Jove, we did pepper 'em. And, hang me, if the
major didn't say we must go and make absolutely sure
that we had outed 'em. There were nineteen ]oches in
the trench, and they surrendered to the major ....
Look ut this pile of revolvers we took from them--
fourteen ultogether. The major's promised to give this
little beauty to the doctor."
And still the day's tale of triumph was not concluded.
At seven o'cIock the infantry battalion that had been
held in reserve mude a combined dash with troops of the
Division on the left, and drove the tired dispirited ttuns
out of Sailly-Saillisel, another 2 0 0 0 yards on.
Out batteries fired harassing crashes alI through the
night, and were warned to be ready to move first thing
in the morning.

Xl. ON THE HEELS OF THE BOCHE

SEPT. 2: The side-spectacle that struck me most when
I walked by myself through Combles was that of a
solitary Royal Engineer playing a grand piano in the
open street, with not a soul to listen to him. The
house from which the instrument had been dragged
was smashed beyond repair; save for some scrapes
on the varnish the piano had suffered no harm, and
its tone was agreeable to the ear. The pianist pos-
sessed technique and played with feeling and earnest-
ness, and it seemed weirdly strange to hear Schumann's
" Slumber Song" in such surroundings. But the war
has produced more impressive incongruities than that.
The Brigade settled itself in the neighbourhood of
Fregicourt. The--st Infantry Brigade was already
established there in a trench; and the first job ¢,f work
that fell to me was to answer the F.O.O. of another
Artillery brigade who had rung up Infantry Brigade
tIeadquarters. "IIuns are moving along the road in
X 429 b and c," said a voice. "Can you turn one of
my batteries on to them ?" Our batteries were not
yet in position, but I saw, a couple of hundred yards
away, two batteries whose trails were lowered; so I
hurried across and gave them the target and the map
spotting, and before long 18-pdr. shells were on their
way to ginger up the aforementioned unlucky Huns.

212 PUSttED, AND TttE RETURN PUSH

An aeroplane fight within decent observing distance
aroused much more interest. :No decisive result was
obtained, but the enemy airman was finally driven
away in full retreat towards his own lines. "Jerry
isn't as cheeky as he used to be in Flanders last
year, is he ? " said Wilde to me. " It must be true
that he's running short of 'planes."
The problem of the last few days had been the water
supply for the horses. Although the sappers were hard
at work in Combles, there was as yet no water within
rive toiles of the batteries. The Boche by smashing all
the power-pumps had seen to that; and the waggon
lines were too far in rear for moving warfare. « We
shall be all right when we get to the canal," had been
everybody's consolatory pronouncement. " The horses
won't be so hard worked then."
We were still in the area of nowly-erected Boche
huts, and Headquarters lay that night without con-
siderable hardship. Manning, our mess waiter, a fish-
monger by trade, had discovered a large quantity of
dried fish left by the departing enemy, and the nen
enjoyed quite a feast; the suddeu appearance in new
boots of ninety per cent of them could be similarly
explained. The modern soldier is not squeamish in
these matters. I overheard one man, who had ac-
cepted a pair of leggings from a prisoner, reply to a
comrade's mild sneer, "Why hOt ? . .. I'd take any-
thing from these devils. There was a big brute this
morning: I hd a good mind to take his false teeth--
they had so much gold in 'em." Which rather sug-
gested that he was "telling the tale" to his unsym-
pathetic listener.
Late that night orders informed us that on the
morrow we should corne under another Divisional

ON THE HEELS OF THE BOCHE 213

Artillery. Our own infantry were being pulled out
of the line to bring themselves up to strength. The
eneny were still withdrawing, and fresh British troops
had to push ahead so as to allow him no respite.
A ]3attery had already advanced their guns another
2000 yards, and through the night fired hotly on the
road and approaches east of the canal. Next morning
Major Mallaby-Kelby was instructed to reconnoitre
positions within easy crossing distance of the canal,
but hot to more the batteries until further orders
came in. ]3icycle orderlies chased down to the waggon
lines to tell the grooms to bring up out horses. My
groom, I remember, had trouble on the road, and did
not arrive soon enough for the impatient major; so
I borrowed the adjutant's second horse as well as his
groom. A quarter of a toile on the way I realised
that I had forgotten my box-respirator; the only solu-
tion of the diflqculty was to take the groom's, and send
him back to renain in possession of mine until I re-
turned; and all that morning and afternoon I was
haunted by the fear that I might perhaps be com-
pelled to put on the borrowed article.
The reconnoitring party consisted of Major Mallaby-
Kelby, Major Veasey, Major Bullivant, young Beale of
A ]3attery, and Kelly and Wood of D tattery, who
loaded themselves with a No. 4 Directe,r, the tripod
instrument with which lines of tire are laid out.
When we approached the highest point along the
main road leading east, Major Mallaby-Kelby sent back
word that the road was under observation; we must
corne along in couples, two hundred yards between each
couple. The ]3oche was sending over some of the high-
bursting shells which he uses so much for ranging pur-
poses, but we were hot greatly troubled. We dipped

214 PUSItED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

into a slippery shell-scarred track that wound through
a hummocky copse, swung southwards aIong a sunken
road, and then ruade due east again, drawing nearer a
dense forest of stubby firs that stretched far as eye
could see. This was the wood into which our infantry
had pushed fighting patrols on Sept. 1. Every few
yards we met grim reminders of the bloody fighting
that had ruade the spot a memorable battle-ground.
]VIy horse shied at two huddled grey forms lying by
the roadside--bayoneted Huns. I caught a glimpse
of one dead German, hall covered by bushes; his face
had been blown away. Abandoned heaps of Boche
ammunition ; fresh gaping shell - holes ; one ghastly
litter of mutilated horses and men, and a waggon
rolled into the ditch, revealed the hellish execution
o[ our artillery. The major called a halt and said
we would leave out horses there.
We struck north-east, away from the forest, and,
reaching the cross-roads on top of the crest, gazed
across the great wide valley that from the canal sloped
up to the blue haze of heights still held by the enemy.
Through the lasses one saw the yellows and greens of
bracken and moss and grass in the middle distances.
"We're getting into country now that hasn't seen much
shelling," remarked the major with satisfaction. But
the glasses also showed slopes seared and seamed with
twisting trenches and tawny waggon tracks.
Our path lay along a road bordered by evenly-planted,
broken and lifeless poplars. The major called out for us
fo advance in single file, at intervals of twenty-five yards.
When high-velocity shells struck the ground a hundred
yards short of the road and a hundred yards beyond if, we
all of us dropped unquestioningly into the narrow freshly-
dug trench that ran at the foot of the poplar. About

ON THE HEELS OF THE BOCHE 215

rive hundred yards on, to the left of the road, we passed
a shell-blasted grove that hung above a melancholy
rubbish-heap of broken bricks and shattered tituber.
" Government Farm !" called Major Mallaby-Kelby,
with an informative gesture.
Govermnent Farm was a datum point that batteries
had mercilessly pasted two days be[ore.
" Government Farm !" repeated Major Bullivant, who
walked behind Mallaby-Kelby.
"Government Farn !" echoed Major Veasey, with out-
stretched arm; and I, in my ttrn, passed the word to
Beale.
Young Beale was in exuberant spirits. He not only
turned his head and shotted " Government Farm !" with
a parade-ground volume o[ voice; he fo!lowed with the
clarion demand of "Why don't you acknowledge orders ?"
to Kelly, who was so surprised that he nearly dropped
the Diector before responding with a grin, and thrusting
out his arm in the way laid down in the gun-drill book
for sergeants to acknowledge gunnery orders passed along
the line of guns.
We came to another large wood that stretched down
towards the canal, and, once more in a party, moved
along the southern edge of it. An infantry captain,
belonging to the Division we were now working under,
stepped from beneath the trees and saluted. "We're
reconnoitring for battery positions," said Major Mallaby-
Kelby, answering the salure. " Can you tell me how the
front line runs now ?"
"We're sending two patrols through the wood fo the
canal now," replied the captain, "The Boche hadn't
entirely cleared out three-quarters of an hour ago."
"We may as well go on," said Major Mallaby-Kelby,
after three or four minutes further con'«ersation. "The

216 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

Boche must be over the canal by now and we have
to select battery positions as soon as possible. We don't
want to bring the guus up in the dark." There was a
generl feeling for revolvers, and we entred the wood
and followed u bridle-path. I could imagine that wood
in the pleasant careless dys of peace, a proper wood for
picnics aud nutting expeditions, tipening bluckberries
even now loaded the bramble bushes, but the foui
noxiousness of gas shells had ruade them uneatable. The
heavy sickly smell of phosgene pervaded the close air;
no birds fiuttered and piped among the upper branches.
The heavy steel helmet caused rills of sweat fo run down
the cheeks.
We forged ahead past a spacious glade where six tracks
met. "There's a hut we could use for a mess," said
Major Veasey. " Mark it up, Kelly; and look at that
barrel, it would be big enough for you to sleep in."
Snapped-off branches, and holes torn in the leaf-strewn
ground, showed that the guns had hot neglected this part
of the wood; and in several places we noted narrow ruts
a yard or so in length, caused by small-calibre projectiles.
" Ricochet shots from whizz-bangs fired at very close
range," commented Major ]ullivant.
After certain hesitations as to the right track to
follow, we reached the nortl»western cdge of the wood.
Major Mallby-Kelby refused fo allow us fo leave cover,
and we knelt hidden among the prickly bushes. " For
heaven's sake don't show these white breeches, Veasey,"
laughed Major Bullivant.
A village nestled at the foot of the slope. Nota sign
of life in it now, although the Boche was certainly in
possession the day before. "There are some ]oches in
that trench near the top of the slope," said Major Veasey
suddenly. " Can you see them ? Eight degrees, two

ON THE HEELS OF THE BOCHE 217

o'clock, from the farm chimney near the quarry." I
looked hard and counted three steel helmets. "We could
have some good shooing if we had the guns up," added
the major regretfully. A F,,oche 5"9 was tiring consist-
ently and accurately into the valley beneath us. I say
accurately, because the shells fell rotlnd and about one
particular spot. "Don't see what he's aiming at," said
Major lullivant shortly. "He's doing no damage. .
He can't be observing his tire."
There was a discussion as to whether an 18-pdr.
battery placed near a long bank on the slope wou]d be
able to clear the wood ai 3000 yards' range, and Major
Mallaby-Kelby and Major F, ullivant slipped out to inspect
a possible position at the corner where the edge of the
wood curved north-east. Then Major Mailaby-Kelby
decided that if was time to return ; and on the way back
Major Veasey said he would be content to bring his
4"5 how. battery into the glade where the six tracks met.
" Might as well make us trench mortars," growled Kelly
to me. "We shan't be more than a thousand yards from
the F, oche."
Jtst before we came out of the wood Major Mallaby-
Kelby called to me to chalk the sign of Brigade H.Q. on
an elaborate hut that stood forty yards off the track--a
four-roomed hut, new and clean. It was not pleasant,
however, to find two dead loche horses lying in the
doorway.
An enemy bombardment started as we left the wood.
Major Veasey and his party went off immediately towards
where the horses were waiting. The other two majors,
still seeking battery positions, bore away to the south,
and I followed them. A 4"2 battery suddenly switched
its tire on to the strip of ground we were crossing, and
we ran hurriedly for shelter to a trench that lay handy.

218 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

Shells whistled over our heads, and we panted and
mopped our brows while taking a breather.
"No wonder he's shelling here," exclaimed Major
Mallaby-Kelby. "The --rd" [our companion Brigade]
"have a battery here .... Look at those dead horses...
three, rive, seven--why, there are twelve of 'em."
"Yes, sir," I put in, "that happened yesterday when
they were bringing up ammunition."
re moved up the trench, but we seemed to draw tire
as if we had magnetie properties. "We'll move back
again," remarked Major Mallaby-Kelby with energy, and
he started off, Major Bullivant following.
We had gone about fifty yards when Major Bullivant
turned swiftly, gave me a push, and muttered "Gas!"
We ran back to where we had been before, and looked
round for Major Mallaby-Kelby. '"Damn it," he said
abruptly when be came up, sneezing, "I forgot to bolt.
I stood still getting my box-respirator on."
When the shelling died down we walked farther along
the trench, which turned westwards. Excellent positions
for the three 18-pdr. batteries were round not far from
the trench; and returning again towards the wood for
our horses, we chanced upon a deep dug-out that Major
Mallaby-Kelby sent me down to explore. "Don't touch
any wires or. pegs," he said warningly; "the Hun may
have left some booby-traps." The dug-out was thirty
feet deep, and had only one entrance. But I round
recesses with good wire beds, and a place for the tele-
phonists. "We'll make that Headquarters," decided the
major, and I chalked out our claire accordingly.
When we got back to the batteries we round that
orders for the move had corne in; the teams were up;
and after a very welcome cup of tea the journey to the
new positions was started. Wilde, the signalling oticer,

ON THE HEELS OF THE BOCHE 219

and myself led the way with the Headquarters' vehicles,
and followed a beautifully hidden track that ran through
the wood and came out a hundred yards from our selected
dug-out. Three red glares lit up the sky behind the
heights held by the Boche. " By Jove," said Wilde, "he
must be going back; he's burning things."
My day's work was hot yet ended. Our own infantry
had been brought up again, and it was imperative that
we should be in early communication with the --rd
Brigade, the Brigade commanded by the forceful young
brigadier who had discussed artillery arrangements with
the colonel for the operation in which Judd and Pottinger
had done so well vith their forward section. There
was a shortage of telephone wire, and at 8.15 P.M. Wilde's
line had hot been laid. Major Mallaby-Kelby decided
that the only alternative was for me to go and report to
the brigadier, whose headquarters were not far from the
road leading to Senate Farm. It was very dark, and
the fact that the whole way was under Boche observation
ruade it impossible for me to use my torch. Shells were
falling about the cross-roads--and I have undertaken
more agreeable walks. I went down into the Infantry
brigade signal-hut first to find whether we had at last
got a line through. We hadn't. When I asked for
the General's mess, the signalling sergeant conducted me
along a passage that in places was not three feet high.
Climbing up a steep uneven stairway, I found myself at
the top looking into the mess with only my head and
shoulders exposed to view. The General was examining
a map. His brigade-major, a V.C. captain with gentle
eyes and a kindly charming manner; his staff captain, a
brisk hard-bitten soldier, with a reputation for never
letting the Brigade go hungry; the signal offieer, the
intelligence officer, and other junior member of the staff,

220 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

were seated round the saine table. "What about the
--nd Brigade ?" I heard the General say, mentioning
our Br,ade.
"We haven't heard from them yet," observed the
brigade-major.
« "Eio ] ,,
I'm from the --nd r ,aae, I said loudly.
There were startled ejaculations and a general looking
round to the spot where the voice came from.
" Hallo, Jack-in-the-box!" exclaimed the brigadier,
staring at my head and shoulders, "where did you corne
from ?"
I explained, and the General, laughing, said, "Well,
you deserve a drink for that .... Corne out of your box
and we'll give you some targets .... I didn't know any
one could get in that way."
Before I went away the tactical situation was ex-
plained to me. I was given the points the Infantry
would like us fo tire upon during the night. Also I got
my drink.
The last thing Major Mallaby-Kelby said before going
off fo sleep was, "Extraordinary long rime since we met
any civilians. Haven't seen any since, July."

221

XII. THE MAJOR'S LOST PIPE

SEPT. 4: "/k full mail-bag and a bottle of white wine
are the best spirit revivers for war-worn fighting-men,"
said Major Mallaby-Kelby contentedly, gathering up his
own big batch of letters from the one and sipping a
glass of the other.
During two days Brigade Headquarters and the four
batteries had received piles of belated letters and parcels,
and there was joy in the land. I remember noting the
large number of little, local, weekly papers--always a
feature of the men's mail; and it struck me that here
the countryman was vouchsafed a joy unknown to the.
Londoner. Both could read of world-doings and national
affairs in the big London dailies; but the man from the
shires, from the little country towns, from the far-off
villages of the British Isles, could hug to himself the
weekly that was like another letter from home--with its
intimate, sometimes trivial, details of persons and places
so familiar in the happy uneventful days before the war.
As for the white wine, that did not greatly interest
the other members of trigade Headquarters mess. lut
the diary contained the bald entry, ':At 9.30 P.. the
whisky ran out," in the space headed Aug. 28 ; and none
had corne to us since, t)eople at home are inclined to
believe that the whisky scarcity, and the shortage of
cakes and biscuits, and chocolate and tobacco, scarcely

22 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

affected officers' messes in France. Itis true that recog-
nised brands of whisky appeared on the Expeditionary
Force Canteens' price-list at from 76 to 80 francs a
dozen, but there were days and days when none was to
be bought, and no lime-juice and no bottled lemon-
squash either. Many a fight in the September-October
push was waged by non-teetotal ofiïcers, who had nothing
with which to disguise the hideous taste of chlorinate if
lime in the drinking water. Ah well!
There was also the serious matter of Major Mallaby-
Kelby's pipe. It became a burning topic on Sept. 4.
"I must have dropped it yesterday when we tumbled
into that gas," he told me dolefully. "I mustn't lose
that pipe. It was an original Dunhill, and is worth three
or four pounds, l'll offer a reward for it. .
Will you cime with me ti look fir it ? " And he fixed
his ,nonocle and gazed at me compellingly.
"Does the offer of a reward refer to me, sir ?"I
inquired with all the brightness at my command. For
answer the major commenced putting on his steel helmet
and box-respirator.
It was fitting that I should go. I had accompanied
the major on all his excursions, and my appearance over
the horizon had become a sure warning to the batteries
that the major was not far off. "Gunner Major and
Gunner Minor" some one lad clristened us.
The major conducted the search with great verve.
We encountercd a gunner chopping wood, and he told
him the story of the t, ipe. "l'll give twenty-five francs
to any one who brings it ti me," he concluded. The
gunner saluted and continued to chop wood.
" Rather a big revard !" I remarked as we walked on.
" Do you think twenty-five too much ? Shall I make
it fifteen ?"

THE MAJOR'S LOST PIllE 228

"¥ou've committed yourself now," I answered sol-
emnly.
Our arrival at the trench in which we had sheltered
the day before coincided with the whizz-phutt of a 4"2
dud. "I shall be sorry if I get you killed looking for
my pipe," said the major cheerfully. We wited for the
next shell, which exploded well behind us, and then
hastened to the spot where our quest was really to
commence. Four gunners belonging to the --rd lri-
gade stood idly in the trench. The major stopped and
looked down upon them. He addressed himself directly
to a wali-faced, emotionless kind of man whose head and
shoulders showed above the trench top.
"I was down here yesterday," began the nmjor, "and
lost my pipe. It was a very valuable pipe, a pipe
I prize very much. I think it must be somewhere in
this trench .... "
The wall-faced man remained stolidly silent.
"I want to get it back again," went on the major;
" and if any of you fellows find it and bring it to me--
I'm Major Mallaby-Kelby, commanding the --nd lrigade
--I'll give a reward of twenty-five francs."
" Is this it, sir ? " said the wall-faced man in matter-
of-fact tones, whipping out of his pocket a thin-temmed
pipe with a shapely, beautifully-polished bowl.
"]y Jove, that's it!" exclaimed the major, taken
aback by the swift unexpectedness of the recovery.
" Yes, by Jove, that's it," he continued, his face lighting
up. He took the pipe and rubbed the bowl affection-
ately with the palm of his hand.
"Twenty-five francs reward!" I murmured softly.
"Yes, that's right," he said briskly, and began turning
out his pockets. Three maps, a pocket-handkerchief,
some ration biscuits, and a note-case with nothing in it.

224 PUSHED, AID TIIE RETURN PUSII

"](ou must lend me twenty-five francs," he declared
masterfully.
The wall-faced gunner accepted the money without
any sign of repressed emotion, and saluted smartly.
The smiles of the other men broadened into grins as the
major and myself set out faces homewards.
There were more serious matters to consider when we
got back. D Battery had had two men killed by shell
tire in the wood; the other batteries had had to send
away a dozen men between them, overcome by gas; the
Infantry brigadier wished to discuss fresh plans for
hastening the enemy's deiarture from the neighbourhood
of the canal.
In the afternoon I accomianed the major on a round
of the batteries. Nests of Boche machine-gunners were
still checking the advance of our infantrymthey had
fought heroically these fellows ; but slowly, methodically,
implacably the work of rooting them out was going on.
Our farther advance was only a matter of hours now.
"We're ordered not to risk too many casualties on this
front," the Infantry brigadier had told the major. "The
enemy will bave to fall back when certain movements
north and south of us are completed. . But we
mustn't let him rest." Beale of A Battery had returned
from the most crowded glorious experience of his young
life. tte had taken a gun forward to support two com-
panies of the infantry who were striving to establish
posts on the eastern side of the canal. Their progress
was stayed by machine-guns and snipers, and the
casualties were beginning to make the company com-
manders doubt if the operation was worth while. Beale
reconnoitred with two platoon commanders and located
the machine-guns, returned and brought his gun up, and
from an open position fired over four hundred rounds;

THE MAJOR'S LOST PIPE 225

and afterwards went forward in front of thc advanced
posts to makc sure that the machine-guns had .been
definitely put out of action. This brilliant effort enabled
the infantry to move forward afterwards without a
casualty. I)usty, flushed with the thrill of what he had
bcen through, Beale knew that he had done fine work, and
was frankly pleased by the kind things said about him.
The following day produced fresh excitemcnts. Major
Simpson had gone down to B Battery's waggon line to
secure solnething like a night's rest--although I might
say that after thc spring of 1917 the Boche night-
bombers saw toit that out waggon lines were no longer
the havens of peace they used tobe. Disaster followed.
The Boche drenched tle battery position with gas.
Captain Denny, who had corne up from the waggon line
fo relieve the major, was caught while working out the
night-firing progrmnlne. Overbnry, young Bushlna.n,
and another ottieer were also gassed; and eight men
besides. C Battery were victims as well, and Henry
and a nulnber of thc gunners had been removed to the
Casualty Clearing Station.
And belote lunch-rime a brietty-worded order was
reeeived direeting Major Mallaby-Kelby to report
immediately fo a Field Artillery Brigade of another
I)ivision. Orders are apt to arrive in this sudden
peremptory fashion. Within an hour and a half the
major had bidden good-bye to us and ridden off, a
mess cart following witb his kit. And Major Veasey
came fo reign in his stead.
Major Mallaby-Kelby left one souvenir, a bottle of
the now famous white wine which had got mislaid
at least the cook explained it that way. The omission
provided Brigade Headquarters with the wherewithal to
drink the major's health.
P

226 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSI:I

Ai nine o'clock that night I stood with ]Iajor Veaey
outside out headquarters dug-'out. A mizzling tain
descended. Five substantial rires were burning beyond
the heights where the Boche lay. "What's the odds
on the war ending by Christmas ?" mused the major.
".. I give it until next autumn," he added.
A battery of 60-pounders had corne up close by.
Their horses, blowing hard, had halted in front of out
dug-out hall an hour before, and the drivers were
waiting orders to pull the guns the final three hundred
yards into position. Two specks of lights showed that
a couple of them were smoking cigarettes. "Look at
those drivers," I said. "They've beeu here all this time
and haven't dismounted yet."
The ma.ior stepped forward and spoke to one of the
men. "Get off, lad, and give the old horse a test. Ite
nceds it."
"Some of these.fellows will never ]earn horse manage-
ment though the war lasts ten years," he said esignedly
as he went downstairs.
[ remember our third and last nightin that dug-out,
because the air below had got so vitiated that candles
would only burn with the feeblest of glimmers.

227

XIII. NURLU AND LIERAMONT

SEeT. 6: The expected orders for the Brigade's farther
advance arrived at 2 r..i., and by eight o'clock Wilde
and myself had selected a new headquarters it a trench
south of the wood. A tarpaulin and pit-prop mess had
been devised: I had finished the Brigade's otScial War
I)iary for August; dinner was on the way; and we
awaited the return of Major Veasey from a conference
with the ]nfantry brigadier.
The major came out of the darkness saying, " We'll
have dinner at once and then more immediately. There's
a show to-morrow, and we must be over the canal before
daybreak. Heard the splendid news ? . . . We've
got right across the Drocourt ()uéant line. . That's
one reason why we are pushing here to-morrow."
We had a four-mlles' match before us, and Manning
and Meddings, our mess waiter and cook, farther down
the trench, could be heard grumbling at the prospect of
another packing-up, and a seau-ch in the dark for fresh
quarters "We always lose knives and forks and
crockery when we more like this," Manning was sayi,g
i] his heavy-dragoon voice.
"You and Wilde had better look for a headquarters
somewhere near the cross-roads at Nurlu," thc major
told me. " The ad.iutant and lnyself will find where thc
batteries are and join you later."

228 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

There was a twenty minutes' delay because in the
dark the G.S. waggon had missed us and vanished round
the corner of the wood. As we moved off I felt a wet
muzzle against my hand, and, stooping, perceived a dog
that looked like a cross between an Airedale and a
Belgian sheep-dog. "Hullo, little fellow !" I said, patting
him. He wagged his tail and followed me.
The German shelling had died down, and we hoped
for an uneventful journey. ]lut night treks across
ground that bas been fought over usually test one's
coolness and common-sense. The Boche had blown up
the bridges over the canal, and descending the slope we
had to leave the road and follow a track that led to an
Engineers' bridge, so well hidden among trees that thc
cnemy artillery had not discovered it. ]tut it was a
long rime before our little column completed the cross-
ing. A battery wre ahead, and between them and us
came a disjointed line of infantry waggons--horses
tloundering in the mud, men with torches searching for
shell-holes and debris that had to be avoided..Only one
vehicle was allowed on the bridge ai a rime, and a
quarter to eleven came before the six mules scrambled
the G.S. waggon over. The real difficulty, however,
was to decide upon the track to take the other side of
the canal. Maps were seless; these were tracks
unknown to the topo,raphers. Not one of them fol-
lowed the general direction in wbich I bclieved :Nurlu
to be. I resolved to take the track that went south-
east, and hoped to corne upon ont that ould turn duc
cast. tteavy shells, one every four minutes, rumbled
high overhead, and crashed violently somewhere south of
us. "They are shooting into Moislains," said Wildc.
We trudged along hopefully.
The dog was still with us, running in small circles

NURLU AND LIERAMONT 229

round me. " That Jnust l)e the shcep-dog part of him,"
I said to Wilde. " He's a bit rhin, but ho seems a wiry
little chap."
The looked-for track due east came when I began fo
think that we were drawing too near to where the big
shells were falling. After half a toile we reached a
metalled road; the track we had passed along went over
and beyond it. The point tobe decided now was
whether to go straight on or to turn left along the road.
Nota soul, nota single vehicle in sight ; it was hard to
believe that three Divisions were to make a big attack
on the morrow. I halted the waggons on the road, and
turned to Wilde. "Let's send Sergeant Starling (the
signalling sergeant) to find where this track leads to.
We'll walk up the road and find some one who can show
it us on the map. There are bound to be dug-outs in
this bank."
1Ve walked for half a toile, meeting no one. The dog
and an orderly accompanied us. In the distance my ear
eaught a familiar sound--the clip-clop of horses trotting.
It came nearer and nearer. Then we saw a horseman,
wearing the Artillery badge, leading a light dl'aught
horse.
"What battery do you belong to ?" I asked, stopping
him.
" B, sir."
"Where are you going now ?"
"A shell came, sir, and hit our waggon. My traces
were broke, and I'm going back fo the waggon line,
sir."
"Where is B Battery ?"
" Up this road, sir, and I think you take a turning on
the left, but I can't quite remember: sir: we had a bit of
a mix-up."

230 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSI-1

" Bring up the wa.ggons," I told the orderly. "We're
on the right road. If Sergeant Strling isn't back, leave
some one behind to bring him along."
Before long a jingling and a creaking told us that our
carts were close aihand. We walked on, and, reaching
a cross-ronds, waited to shout for those behind to keep
straight on. Half a minute afterwards I heard my naine
called. A single light shone out from a dug-out in the
bank.
It was Garstin of C Battery who had hailed me.
" Major Veasey is here with Major tartlett" he said,
coming towards us. The two majors were sitting in a
dug-out no bigger than a trench-slit. "What do you
think of my quarters ?" smiled Major ]dartlett. " Sorry
I can't ask you to have a drink. Out mess cart hasn't
arrived )'et."
"We've round B and C, so far," interposed Major
Veasey, puffing at his pipe, and I must find the th
Infantry Brigade before I finish to-night.. . This
road takes you direct to Nurlu, you know."
Wilde and I and the headquartrs waggons resumed
out march. We had reached a sunken portion of the
rond, when above us began the deep steady drone of
Boche aeroplanes. We halted the waggons.
A wait, during which Lizzie, the big mare, whinnied,
and we looked up and strained our ears to follow the
path of te 'planes. Then, farther away than the
whirring in the skies had led us to expect, came the
ear-stabbing crack of the bombs. One Itwo !three !
four five !six ! in as quick succession as rifle-shots.
' Damn 'em," said Wilde apprehensively. " I hope they
don't get any of our horses."
We were quite near lurlu now, and, leaving the
waggon in the sholter of th unke.a rond, Wilde and

NURLU AND LIERAMONT 3l

I again forged ahead. An Army Field Brigade was
forming its waggon lines in a field off the roadside
amid sharp angry cries of " Keep those lights out !"
Soon we approached another sunken road leading into
the village. Through the hedge that rose above the
bank I saw a black oblong hut. "Let's look at this
place," I said.
In the darkness we ruade out a number of huts. A
ring of sandbags showed where a tent had been pitched.
l'ushing away the blanket that covered the opening fo a
huge mined dug-out, we looked upon a row of sleeping
engineers. " There are plenty of empty huts here," a
corporal, half-awake, told us. It was past lnidnight.
This will do us for to-mnç, I said to Wilde.
A humming overhead reminded us that Boche 'planes
still hovered near. As we came out of the dug-out a
string of red lights floated downwards. A nmchine-gun
spluttered, and a bullet pinged close to us. "What's he
up to ?" said Wilde, his eyes gleaming. We drew back.
A bomb fell three hundred yards away; then another,
and another. The ground shook; we thought of our
waggons and horses in the road. The dog had dashed
outside.
When the 'planes had passed, I sent the orderly fo
bring up the waggons. The horses went back to the
other side of the canal; the men soon found cover for
the night. Wilde and I ruade for the hut that we had
noticed first of all. It was not very spacious--nor very
clean- but if contained four wire beds to accommodate
the major, the adjurant, Wilde, and myself. "Why, it's
a guard-room," I called, shining my torch on a painted
board aixed to the door.
So, for once in out lives, we slept in a guard-room.
Th littla dog had curlad himelf up in a corner.

232 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

Sept. 7: Zero hour for the launching of the attack
was 8 A.,[., much later than usual. The village of
Lieralnont was the first objective, and afterwards the
infant T were to push on and oust the toche from
Guyencourt and Saulcourt. It was to be an attack on
the grand scale, for the enemy had brought up one fresh
Division and two others of known fighting capacity, tte
was likely to hold very stoutly to the high ground at
EpChy. Our A Battery was under ordels fo follow
close on the heels of the infantry, to assist in wiping
out machine-gun nests.
The camp in which we had settled overnight pos-
sessed at least three empty Nissen huts in good con-
dition. The place had been captured from the tritish
during the March retreat, and retaken not more than
three days ago. Our guard-room sleeping quarters
were hot roomy enough for four simultaneous morning
toilets; so I had my tin bowl and shaving articles
taken over to one of the Nissen huts, and I stripped
tnd managed a "bowl-bath" before breakfast. The dog,
who had quite taken possession of me, stretched himself
on the floor and kept an eye upon ne.
The wily toche had improved our Nissen huts.
Trap-doors in the wooden tloors and "funk-holes"
down below showed how he feared out night-bombers.
Jagged holes in the semicircular iron roofing proved
the wisdom of his precautions.
By half-past eight a German 5"9 was planking shells
over the camp, near enough for flying fragments to
rattle against the roof and walls of the huts. Fifty
rounds were fiied in twenty minutes. The ]oche
gunners varied neither range nor direction; and no
one was hurt. The shelling brought to light, how-
ever, a peculiarity of the dog. He chased away in the

NURLU AND LIERAMONT 233

direction of each exploding shell, and tried also to
pursue the pieces of metal that whizzed through the
air. Iqothing would hold him. When he returned,
pantiug, it was to search for water; but af ter  short
rest thc shells lured him out again in vain excited
quest.
Round his neck was a leather collar with a brass
plate. The plate bore the na,ne of a brigadicr-general
com,nanding an infantry brigade of a Division that had
gone north. " No wonder he follows you," grinned
Wihte. "He thinks you are a General. . It must
be your voice, or the way you walk."
"More likely that I use the saine polish for my
leggings as the Geueral," I retorted.
Major Veasey called me, and we started forth to see
how the battle was progressing. The village of Lieramont
had fallen very quickly, and Major Bullivant had already
reported by mounted orderly that lais battc,'y had moved
through the village, and corne into action near the sugar
factory.
" Oh, the leetle dawg!" said Major Veasey in wheed-
ling toncs, fondling the dog who frisked about him.
Then he got his pipe going, and we strode through
desolated Nurlu and lnade across rolling prairie land,
broken by earthworks and shell-holes. A couple of
heavy hows. were dropping shells on the grassy ridge
that rose on out leItwasted shots, because no battcries
were anywhere near. Ve stuck to the valley, and, pass-
ing a dressing station where a batch of walking cases
were receiving attention, drew near to the conglomeration
of tin huts, broken walls, and tumbled red roofs that
stood for Liera,nont. We stopped to talk to two wounded
infantry officers on their way to a casualty clearing
station. The advance bad gone well, they said, except

234 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

at Saulcourt, which was not yet cleared. They were
young and ïresh-coloured, imperturbable in manner, clear
in their way of expressing themselves. One of them,
jacketless, had his left forearm bandaged. Through a
tear in his shirt sleeve I noticed the ugly purple scar
of an old wound above the elbow. Odd parties of
infantry and engincers stood about the streets. Plenty
of woundcd were coming through. I tan in to examine
a house that looked like a possible headquarters of the
future, and looked casually at a well that the Boche had
blown in. The dog was still at my heels.
"Now we want to find the sugar factory to see how
Bullivant is getting on," said the major, refilling his
pipe. We pulled out maps and saw the factory plainly
marked; and then followed a hard good-conditioned
road that led over a hill.
We were getting now to a region where shells fell
more freely. A mlle to the north-east machine-gun
duels were in progress. When we saw the wrecked
factory with its queer-looking machinery--something
like giant canisters--we pressed forward. o sign
whatever of A Battery! I looked inside some tin huts:
one had been used as a German mess, another as an
ofiïcers' bath-house; flies swarmed upon old jam and
meat tins; filth and empty bottles and stumps of caudles,
a discarded German uniform, torn Boche prints, and
scattered picture periodicals. "There's no one here,"
mused Major Veasey. "I suppose the battery has
moved forward again."
Beyond a tangled heap of broken machinery, that in-
cluded a huge fly-wheel, bent and cracked, sood a big
water-tank, raised aloft on massive iron standards.
"We might be able to see something from up there,"
said the major. There was a certain amount of swarm-

NURLU AND LIERAMONT 235

ing to be done, and the major, giving up the contest,
aided me to clamber up. Out of breath I stood up in
the dusty waterless tank, and got out my binoculars.
Towards where the crackle of machine-guns had been
heard, I saw a bush-clad bank. Tucked up against it
were horses and guns. Big Boche shells kept falling
near, and the landscape was wreathed in smoke.
Before we got to the battery we met Major Bullivant,
whose gestures alone were eloquent enough to describe
most war scenes. A rippling sweep of his left arm
indicated where two machine-gun nests on the bosky
western slopes of Saulcourt held up out inïantry ; a swan-
like curl of the right wrist, raised to the level of the
shoulder, told where A Battery had been situated, less
than a thousand yards from the enemy. "A company
of the  were faltering because of the deadliness of
the machine-guns," he said. ".. I got hold of a pla-
toon commander and he took me far enough forward to
detect their whereabouts. . . Ve fired '2 00 rounds
when.I got back to the battery. M:y gunners popped
them off in find style, although the Boche retaliated.
• . . The infantry have gone on now .... I round two
broken machine-guns and six dead Germans at the spots
we fired at. . It's been quite a good morning's
work."
He smiled an adieu and went off to join a company
commander he had arranged to meet. When we reached
the bank A Battery were about fo move to a sunken
road farther forward. Smallman, from South Africa,
nicknamed "Buller," was in charge, and he pointed
joyously to an abandoned :Boche P, ed Cross waggon that
the battery had "commandeered." Four mules had been
harnessed to it; the battery waggon line was its
destination.

236 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

"Gee-ho! they went off in a hurry from here," re-
markcd Major Vease) , looking ai a ]ight engine and
three trucks loaded with ammunition and corrugated
iron that the enemy had failed to get away on the
narrow-gauge line running past Saulcourt. " What we
ought t do is to have a railway ride back. The line
goes to Nurlu. That wouhl be a new experience--and
I'm tired enough."
" Ves, that wouht be better than the four-in-hand in
the G.S. waggon that )'ou took to the sports meeting,"
I added.
A Hun 5"9 was firing persistently on a spot 400
yards between Saulcourt and where we stood. For once
in a way the dog neglected shells, and searched for
bully-beef leavings among the tins thrown aside by the
battery drivers. We were not absolutely sale. The
Boche shells were fitted with instantaneous fuses, and
after each burst bits of jagged iron flew off at right
angles to points as far distant as 700 yards. As we
turned to go a piece whistled over our heads and hit
one of the Red Cross waggon lead-mules. The poor
beast dropped and brought down his frightened, kicking,
companion nmle also. The drivers had released them
by the rime Major Veasey and I came up. The wounded
mule round, his feet, and was led a few yards away. A
horrible tear, 8 inches long, showed a smashed jawbone
and cheekbone; he moved his head from side to side
in his pain. "I shall have to shoot him," said the
major, loading his revolver. The mule stared dully as
the major approached, but drew back sharply when he
saw the revolver. The driver could not hold him pro-
perly, and the first bullet-hole was hot the half-inch to
an inch below the forelock that means instantaneous
death. Th poor animal fell, but got up again and

NURLU AND LIERAMONT 237

st.aggered away. The major had o follow and shoot
again.
We struck off in. a more northerly direction on out
way back to Nurlu, searching for thc forward section
of B Battery that had been told off to work in con-
iunctiou with a certain Infantry battalion. Ve met
Wheater, who was commanding the section, and he told
the najor that be had hot taken his two guns farther
forward, because the battalion commander lmd gone off
in a hurry without giving him instructions, without even
telling him tlJe line the infantry had reached.
"How long bave you heen here ?" aske(l the major
pointedly.
"Three hours, sir."
" Well, ny dear fellow, you certainly should havc
taken your gnns farther forward l>y now, battalion
commander or no battalion comnmnder. "%u've got a
mounted ordcrly, and you could bave sent him back to
Brigade Headquartcrs, informing them of your new posi-
tion. Thon you could have got into touch with thc
infantry and asked them fo targets. It's useless stay-
ing here." "
The arrival on borseback of the major-general com-
manding the Division attacking in this portion of the
front turned the conversation. Not long appoined to
his present command, the General during he March
retreat had been the senior Infantry brigadier in out
own Division. He was a particularly able and resource-
ful soldier; his first demand was for information re-
garding the work done by our forward guns. The major
told him that Wheater's section remained where it was
because of the neglect of the battalion commander.
The General listened quietly, and cast a kecn eye
upon Wheater, " You can take your guns up in safety

238 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

to Guyencourt, and you'll find plenty to shoot af there.
rell any one who wants to know that your instructions
corne direct from the Divisional commander.. And
don't rely too much on battalion commanders. Very few
battalion commanders know anything about artillery.
It's a pity, but it's a fact." He responded with dignity to
our salutes, and rode off, followed by his attendant staff
oflicers and the grooms.
The major got more and more tired of the walking.
I t was half-past two now, and we were both pretty
hungry. The dot seemed as frisky and energetic as
when he chased the shells at breakfast-rime. We
passed a big dressing station; a wheeled stretcher stood
outside. "As we didn't take a train ride, should I push
you back in that, major ?" I inquired with due serious-
ness. Major Veasey smiled, and we started on the last
toile and a half.
There were prospects, we learned wheu we got back
to lgurlu and read the reports received by the adjurant,
of another move forward for the batteries.
"This looks like bringing the waggon lines over the
canal," said the adjurant, showing the major the follow-
ing wire from the staff captain :--
"Good sprint at V '201 b '2.7. Water-cart
filling-point being arranged. Approaches good for
water-carts. Troughs now in order at V 202
c 8.5."

Auother message of thc saine tenor, having to do with
gun repairs, ran

" No. 347 light shop moves tu Moislains to-morrow.
Will uudertake quick repairs. Longer jobs will be
sent back to Nos. 124 B-- and 192 F--."

NURLU AND LIERAMONT 2,9

A third telegram supplied a reminder that the spiteful
Boche still had rime to leave devilish traps for the
unwary--
"Advanced guard Nth Division round small
demolition charges in :Nissen hut at W 123
b 8.9, and mined dug-out W 129 d 3.2."

"Yes," remarked Major Veasey, " we are certain to
movc again to-night. The wise man will take a lie
down until tea-time." And he hied him to the wire
bed in the guard-room.
Af 8.15 that night Wilde and l, the Headquarters
party, and the dog, having waited an hour and a hall
for the orderly that Major Veasey had promised to send
back to guide us to a new headquarters, settled in some
old German gun-pits, scooped out of a lofty chalk bank.
Our march had brought us through Lieramont and beyond
the shell-mauled cemetery where the Boche in his
quest of safety had transformed the very vaults into
dug-outs.
The horses were sent back to the waggon line and
the drivers told fo bring them up again at 6 ri.M. ; and
I was arranging the relief of the orderly stationed on
the roadside to look out for the major when the major's
special war-whoop broke cheerily through the darkness.
"The opening of the gun-pit faces the wrong way, and
we have no protection from shells--but the tarpaulin
will keep any tain out," was the best word I could find
for our new quarters.
If was a moderately calm night. We four ofiicers lay
down side by side with just our valises to soften the rug-
gedness of the ground. Fitful flashes in front showed our
own guns firing; high-velocity shells, bursting immediately

240 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

behind us, ruade us ponder on the possibility of casualties
bcfore the night was out. But we were dog-tired, and
slept well; and by 7 A.L the dog no longer snuggled
against my feet, and we were preparing for further
departure.
"We corne under the --th Divisional Artillery ai
7.30, and have to settle in Lieramont and await orders,"
explaincd Major Veasey. " They don't want out Brigade
to push on. . They say that the infantry could have
walked into Ep6hy without trouble, but they were too
fagged. The latest report is that the P, oche is back
there again."
Our chier aire when we walked back towards Lieramont
was to secure decent quarters before troops coming up
should flood the village. 0ur first discovery was a
Nissen but in a dank field on the eastern outskirts.
It wanted a good deal of tidying up, but 'twould serve.
We were ravenous for breakfast, and the cook got his
wood-tire going very quickly. There were tables and
chairs to be found, and the dog and I crossed the road,
russct-red with the bricks from broken houses that had
been used to repair it, on a journey of exploration.
Bui]t close to a high hedge was an extra large Nissen
but, painted with the lted Cross sign. Inside twenty
wire beds in tiers: dozens of rolls of German lint and
quantities of cotton-wool littered the floor. 0utside,
rive yards from the door, lay the body of a British
olticer. A brown blanket covered all but his puttees
and a pair of neat, well-made brown boots.
Through an opening in the hedge we came upon
more Nissen huts. 0ne of theln was divided by a
partition, and would do for a mess and for officers'
sleeping quarters. Another large building could ac-
commodate the men, and I round aIso a cook-house

NURLU AND LIERAMONT 241

and an office. I used chalk freely in " staking-out"
our claire, and hurried back to the major in a lever
of fear lest some one else should corne before we could
install ourselves.
There were three incidents l)y which I shall remem-
ber our one night's stay in Lieramont. First, the men's
cook discovered a Gernmn otticer's silver-edged iron
cross. One of the servants, a noted searcher after un-
considered trifles, had round a Boche ottïcer's overcoat
in one of the huts. He went through the pockets and
threw the coat away. The cook, coming af ter him,
picked up the coat, and, " Blow me," said he, "if this
didn't fall out."
Also, while Major Veasey, Major Simpson, and Major
Bullivant were standing talking, a British soldier, push-
ing a bicycle, passed along the road. Following him,
sometimes breaking into a run fo keep up, came a
plump, soft-faced German boy in infantry uniform, the
youngest German I had seen in France. "Why, he's
only a kid," said Major Veasey. " He can't be more
than sixteen."
"Was ist ihr regiment ?" called Major Bullivant. I
took if that the major was asking the youngster fo what
regiment he belonged.
The ]ritish private and his prisoner stopped. The
boy Boche smiled sheepishly, yet rather pleasantly, and
said something which I didn't understand, and don't
believe Major Bullivant did either.
There was a hall-minute pause. Then the practical
British private moved on, calliug simply, " Corne on,
Tich " The phrase, "He followed likc a lamb," became
appropriate.
And I remember one further episode, hot so agree-
able. Ma.ioi Veasey and myself had been fo call on tlm

2,2 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

Divisional Artillery, under whose orders wo were now
working. When we returned the ded British ofiïcr
still ly outside the F, ed Cross hut. But the neat
brown boots had been removed.
"By God, that's a ghoulish bit of work," said the
mjor, ngry disgust in hi fce. "The man who did
that is  cur."

243

XIV. THE F1GHT FOR RONSSOY

SPT. 16: The first autumn tints were spreading over
field and tree, and the tempestuous rains of the last few
days had chilled the air; but the weather had righted
itself ow, and would prove no bar to the next advance,
which it was whispered would take place on the 18th.
The American offensive at St Mihiel on the 12th had
undoubtedly keyed-up out men, and any one supposed
to know anything at all was being button-holed for fore-
casts of the extent of the Allies' giant thrust up to the
rime of the winter rains.
There had been a four days' withdrawal of our Brigade
to more peaceful areas behind the line, and, praise the
Saints! we had again corne under our own Divisional
Artillery.
The colonel had returned, and, as usual, the first day
or so after coming off leave, appeared preoccupied and
reserved. Still there was no one like our colonel; and,
in the serene atmosphere of his wise unquestioned
leadership, petty bickerings, minor personal troubles,
and the half-jesting, half-bitter railings against higher
authority, had faded away. He brought the news that
the medical board in England would hot permit the
C.I.A. to return to France; and the appointment of
C.R.A. had gone to the colonel of out companion ïeld
Artillery Brigade, now the senior Field Artillery officer

244 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

in the Division--a popular honour, because, though we
thought there could be no colonel so good as ours, m
we should nog have been such a good Brigade had we
admitted any other belief,--we all knew Colonel to
be a talented and experienced gunner, and a brave man,
with great charm of manlmr. Besides, it kept the ap-
pointmeat in the family, so to speak. We wanted no
outsider from another Division. "You must all con-
gratulate General - when you meet him," said our
colonel gently.
The four days behind the line had been interesting in
their way, despite the rain-storms. We had hot baths
and slept in pyjamas once more. Some of the younger
officers and a few of the N.C.O.'s had ruade a long lorry
trip to Abbeville to replace worn-out clothes. Major
Bullivant and the adjutant had borrowed a car to search
for ahnost forgotten mess luxuries; and coming back
had given a lift to a curé, who in the dark put his foot
in the egg-bo., snashing twenty of the eggs. There
had been the booby-trap in the blown-up dug-out. A
chair that almost asked to be taken stood half-embedded
in earth near the doorway. I was about to haul it
away to the mess when [ perceived a wire beneath
it, and drew back. Afterwards some sappers attached
more wire, and, from a safe distance, listened to a small
explosion that would have meant extreme danger to any
one standing near. Also there had been the dead horse
that lay unpleasantly near oui' lness. Major Veasey,
" Swigy," the doctor, our rollicldng interpreter M. Phineas,
and myself all took turns at digging a hole for its burial ;
and there was plenty of laughter, because old l'hineas
refused to go near the horse without swathing his face
in a scarf, and when wielding the pick raised it full-
stretch above his head before bringing it, with slow

THE FIGHT FOR RONSSOY 245

dignigy, to earth--for all the world like a church-bell-
ringer. Two nights in succession German night-bombers
had defied our anti-aircraft guns and brought cruel death
to horses camped alongside the canal. On the second
night we had witnessed a glorious revenge. Our search-
lights had concentrated upon a Gotha, and they refused
to let it escape their g]are. Then suddenly from up above
came the putt-puttr-putt of machine-guns. Ped and
blue lights floated down; the swift streakings of initam-
matory bullets clove the cobalt sky; with ecstasy we
realised that one of our airmen was in close combat
with the invader. When the enelny 'plane crashed
to earth, a blazing holocaust, cheers burst frola hun-
dreds of tent-dwellers who had corne ot to view the
spectacle.
And now on the 16th of September we had pitched
tents a toile south of Lieramont, which we had left on the
9rb, on the confines of a wood that stretched down to a
road and fringed it for three parts of a toile fo the village
of Templeux la Fosse. Wilde and the adjutant had de-
parted in high spirits, and their best clothes, fo catch the
leave train, and I was doing adjutant. Hubbard, a new
officer from D Battery, who before getting his commis-
sion had been a signalling sergeant, filled Wilde's shoes.
I had ridden into Templeux la Fosse fo conduct a polite
argument with the ofïicer of a Division newly arrived
from Palestine on the matter of watering arrangements.
His point was that his Division had reached the area
first and got the pumps into working order, and his
instructions were to reserve the troughs for the horses
of his'own Division. I argued that if our horses did
not water in Templeux they would have to do a seven-mile
journey three times a day to the next nearest abreuvoir.
" And you can't claire the exclusive use of a watering-

046 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

point unless Corp grants special permission," I con-
cluded.
"But Corps haven't instructed you to water here,"
he persisted.
"Neither bave they tohi us hot to come here," I
countered.
We parted, agreeing to refer the whole matter to
Corps. Corps, I might add, ruled that we should be
allowed to water 2 0 0 horses per hour at certain hours, and
that the other Division should police the performance.
I had returned in time to administer the distribution
of fifty-nine remounts corne from the base to replace
battery horses killed by bombs and shell-fire, or evacu-
ated by "Swiffy," out veterinary officer, to the Mobile
Veterinary Section, as a result of the hard-going and
watering difficulties since the advance started on
August 8th.
I was talking to the staff captain about the ammuni-
tion dumps he had arranged for the coming battle, when
the brigade clerk handed me a buff slip just arrived
from the Csualty Clearing Station. It stated simply
that 2nd Lieut. Garstin had died as the result of gun-
shot wounds. Poor boy! a handsome well-mannered
youngster, who had corne out to France practically from
school.
I finished talking to the staff captain and walked to
the colonel's tent. I told him of Garstin's death.
"Wounded last night taking up ammunition, wasn't
he ?" said the colonel gravely.
" Yes, sir. He had finished the job and was coming
back towards Lieramont. Two of the men were wounded
as well."
The colonel pulled out the note-book in which he
kept his liit of the officers in th Brigade.

THE FIGHT FOR RONSSOY 247

"That leaves C Battery very short of ofiïcers. You'd
better transfer--let me seewM'Whirter from ' B.' .
And ask the staff captain if we can have an oflïcer from
the D.A.C."
A little later I sent out the following wire to B and
C Batteries :--

" 2nd Lieut. J. M'Whirter will be attached to
C Battery on receipt of this message. 2nd Liet.
F. E. R. Collinge of No. 1 Section D.A.C. will join
B Battery to-day."

The night bristled with excitements. No. 1 Section
of the D.A.C., with "two hundred horses, were camped a
hundred yards from us, and ai 9 ... I was in their
ness, talking books of the day, horses, and stage gossip.
A lull in the conversation was broken by the low un-
mistakable drone of an enemy aeroplane. If sounded
right overhead. "What's happened te our anti-aircraft
people ? " said Major Brown, starting up from the table.
"How's he got through as far as this without any one
shooting at him ?"
We waited in silence. [ wondered what had become
of the dog, who had followed me, but had remained out-
side the trench-cover mess.
The first bomb crashed near enough to put out the
candles and rattle the glasses on the table. "That fell
over there," said the padre, pointing to behind the wood.
"No, it was on this side, hot far from my horses," put in
Major Brown quickly.
Three more bombs shook the ground beneath us. Then
we heard more distant explosions.
Outside we saw torch flashings in the D.A.C. horse
lines, and heard hurrying fo and fro. " Swiffy" aluo had
run down to give his aid.

248 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

So serious had been the loss of horses through bombing
during the summer of 1918 that after each fatal raid an
ofllcial report had to be forwarded and a formal inquiry
held to decide whether full precautions for the safety of
the horses had been taken. At 9.30 f.M. I received this
note from Major Brown :--
"The followin casualties occurred to animals of
this Section by hostile bombs at 7 P.M. on 16th
inst.
" Map location D 230, c. 97 " killed, 7; wounded,
11 ."

Hall an hour later a message from C P,atery, who
were a toile and a hall away along the valley, in-
formed me that their casualties in horses and mules
numbered 19.
At two in the morning I was aroused by a furious
beating of wind and rain upon the tent. Hubbard,
already in receipt of wet on his side of the tent, was up
fastening the entrance-flap, which had torn loose. Sharp
flashes of lightning and heavy thunder accompanied the
squall when it reached its height. "I hope the pegs
hold," shouted Hubbard, and we waited while the tent-
sides strained and the pole wavered. The dog growled,
and a scuttling behind us was followed by the appearance,
at the back of the tent, of the colonel's head and
shoulders. In his pyjamas, drenched and shivering with
cold, he struggled inside. " My tent's down," he called
sharply. "Houston's got my kit into his bivouac. .
You two fellows hop outside and hammer in the pegs.
Let's save this tent if we ean. . And some one
lend me a towel for a tub down !"
Wrapped in rain-coats, Hubbard and myself faced the
skirling tain. When we slipped inside again the colonel

THE FIGHT FOR RONSSOY 249

had dried himself. I lent him a blanket and my British
warm, and he settled himself contentedly on the ground,
refusing to occupy either camp-bed.
"The annoying part," he said, with the boyish ring iii
his voice th made his laugh so attractive, "is that my
tent was much better put up than yours."
The wind still blew when we got up in the morning.
A valiant tale came from " Swiffy," the doctor, and
M. Phineas. They occupied atent 'twixt a bauk and a
hedge, nearer to the ]).A.C. M. l'hineas had held up
the pole with folds of wet canvas alternately chokiug
him or whirling rouml him, while "Swiffy " yelled
him to kneel upon the tent bottom to keep if fast, and
expected him to fetch a servant at the saine rime. The
doctor, enfolded by the wanton canvas in another state
compartment of the blown-about tent, was cut off from
communication with the other two, and fought the battle
on his own.
The struggle to keep the tents from collapsing was
crowned at 6 ..M. by the urgent and peremptory order
from Division: "Ail tents in the Divisional forward area
are to be struck before dawn."
It was an order that breathed an understanding fear
of the inquisitive eyes of enemy aerial observers. But
if the G.S.O. who issued the order really knew-
Under cover of the darkness the Brigade moved
up 6000 yards to secret positions for the morrow's
battle. We were behind our own infantry once again,
and it was to be a big advance. We had corne over
forty mlles since August 8 in a series of three- to eight-
mlle leaps; for the third time the battalions had been
brought up to something like strength, and they were
full of fight. In the mud and slime of the Somme and

250 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

Flanders in 1916 and 1917, when each advance was on
a narrow front and ceased after a one-day effort, I always
marvelled at the patient, fatalistic heroism of the infantry.
A man went "over the top" understanding that, however
brilliant the attack, the exultant glory of continuous
chase of a fleeing, broken enemy would hot be his; and
that, should he escape wounds or death, it would uot be
long before he went "over the top" again, and yet again.
But this open fighting had changed all that. It showed
results for his grit and endurance to the humblest
"infanteer." And remember, it was the civilian soldier
--unversed in war, save actual war--who accepted and
pushed home the glorious opportunities of achievement
that these wondrous days offered.
The colonel and I mounted our horses at eight o'clock,
saw C and D Batteries begin their march, and called
upon the new C.R.A. in his hut-headquarters at Lieralnont.
He was genuinely pleased at being congratulated upon
his appointment, and, I remember, produced for me a
Havana, corne straight from London. Both the General
aud the brigade-major had good things to say of the
dog, who was now definitely known as "Ernest "--chiefly
because I had said "Hullo" to call him so many times
that inevitably one recalled Mr Frank Tinuey and his
mode of addressing his stage assistant.
From Lieramont the colonel and myself rode eastwards
two toiles and a hall. The road was crowded with
waggons and horses, returning in orderly fashion from
delivering ammunition. In the distance guns boomed.
Vhen we got to the pave the colonel said we would walk
across country the rest of the way. Our horses had only
been gone a couple of minutes when the colonel suddenly
halted and exclaimed, "l've let Laneridge go back with
my steel helmet."

THE FIGHT FOR RONSSOY 251

"Should we wait a few minutes on the road, sir ?"
I responded quickly ; " Laneridge is likely to corne back
and try to catch you. . . Of course he doesn't know
where our headquarters will be."
For answer the colonel stood in the centre of the road
and shouted with studied clearness--" Laneridge ! . . .
Laneridge !"
We tried a joint call, and repeated it; but there was
no sound of returning hoofs.
One curious result followed. An infantry soldier,
who had passed us, came back and, in a north-country
accent, asked, "Beg pardon, sir, but did you call me ?--
my name's Laneridge, sir."
"No," said the colonel, "'I was calling my groom."
The man passed on. " That's a really striking coin-
cidence," remarked the colonel. "Laneridge is ht a
common uame.
After waiting rive minutes we continued our walk,
and crossing a valley dotted with abandoned gun-pits
and shallow dug-outs, came to a shrub-covered bank
from which a battery was pulling out its guns.
" Our headquarters will be here," said the colonel
succinctly. "Hubbard has been sorting things out.
There are dug-outs along the bank, and I expect we
shall find something in the trench down there."
Hubbard had indeed found a place for the mess in the
trench, while he pointed to a cubby-hole in the bank
that would do for the colonel, and to another shelter, a
yard high from roof to floor, in which he and I could lie
down. The telephone lines to the batteries and to
Div. Art. were laid. He was ready for the battle.
Zero hour was at 5.20 A.r. The battery commanders
had received the operation orders during the afternoon.
I reported out arrival fo the brigade-major; and not

252 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

worTing much about some hostile 'planes that seemed to
be dropping bombs in the neighbourhood of the front
line, we turned in.
At 1.30 A.M. the telephone near my head buzzed.
heard the colonel say, "Are you troubled by gas ? "
"Haven't noticed any, sir.""
"Vou had better have yolr box-respirator ready. It
seems fo be coming in a cloud down the valley."
I dozed off again, but half an hour later the uneasy
movements of "Ernest" roused me. [ sneezed several
times, and felt a burning in the throat. This was
lndoubtedly gas. Hubbard I found to be a heavy
sleeper, but by punching hard enough I ruade him open
tis eyes, and we put. on our box-respirators. It was
hall an hour before the gas sergeant reported that the
air had cleared. We slept once more. Half an hour
before zero time the gas rattle sounded again, and indeed
we were wearing our respirators, when at 5.20 the usual
sudden crackle and rumble all along the front announced
the opening of the barrage. Judged by the quickness
with which he put down a retaliatory barrage, the enemy
was prepared for our attack. Nothing could now hold
"Ernest." He dashed tirelessly north, souti, east, west,
towards whichever point of the compass he heard a gun
firing or a shell exploding. " I'm sure that dog's mad,"
commented the colonel when we breakfasted at 7 ,.M.
"I watched him from my dug-out for three-quarters of
an hour after the barrage started. He passed the open-
ing eighty times, then I got tired of counting. He seems
to take a marvellous interest in shells... I t's a pity
the staff captain can't use him for ammunition returns."
While we were conducting a settled defence of the
line, or registering our guns for a battle, no ont visited
the "O.P.'s," or the front line, more than the colonel.

THE FIGHT FOR, RONSSOY 253

]any and many a morning, with a couple of sandwiches
and a slab of choco]ate in his pocket, he tramped to the
O.P. and stayed there until dark, criticising the shooting
of the batteries and iinding fresh targets for their tire.
But during a set battle he did all his work on the
telephone, in touch with Divisional artillery one way,
and with the batteries, the F.O.O.'s, and the infantry
the other. There is never much news during the first
hour, or evcn until the full artillery programme has been
completed. By that time the Brigade expects definitc
reports as fo whether the infantry have reached thcir
objectives, and upon what new points they require
artillery assistance for consolidating positions, or for
repelling counter-attacks.
But on this occasion the first message reached Brigade
ai 5.50 ,.M. C Battery reported that immediately the
barrage opened the Boche retaliated upon them with
5"9's. They had had six killed and ten wounded. The
killed included the sergeant who so splendidly com-
manded C's forward sniping-gun on that bewildering,
nerve-testing March 21st.
I spoke to the other btteries. I) Battery, and B,
who had horses handy to nove forward when the tirst
objective was taken, had been little troubled, but A had
had their mess smashed in, and three of the servants
wounded. I rang up " luller," who was doing liaison witb
the th lnfantry Brigade, and he said it was understood
that two companies of the " had lost their way, but
generally the attack proceeded well.
The uncertainty lasted uatil 11 ,.., when the colonel
completed a telephone conversation with the brigade-
major. The Division on our left had hot gained its
first objective because of exceedingly stout opposition
on the part of a German corps, who had gained a fine

254 PUSHED, AND THE IETURN PUSH

fighting reputation during the past two weeks. The --th
south of out Division had done very well, capturing and
advancing beyond the village of. Templeux le Guerard.
Our Divisional infantry had cleared Ronssoy after tough
fighting, but their farther progress was checked because
of the hold-up on the left. Reserve battaIions of the
Division chiefly affected by this resistance v,-ere to
attack as soon as possible.
"The Australians have done extraordinariIy weI1 down
south," the colonel told me. "They simply marched
through with their tanks, capturing guns and prisoners
wholesale, and are on their most distant objective."
Then he rang up Major Simpson. "Don't take your
bttttery forward until you get definite orders from the
Brigade," he said. "The enemy still hold the high
ground north of us."
Major Bullivant, always keen on making an early re-
connaissance during a set battle, rang up at noon to say
that he had been as far as a high wood, a toile and a hall
in front of his battery. "I got a very long view from there,"
he went on, "and saw no sign at all of any Boche. "
The colonel, putting on his pince-nez, studie'd his
map and asked the major for the exact position. "Yes,"
he observed, " that's on the 140 contour, and you must
bave seen as far as -- copse."
tIis next remark revealed how his mind was working.
" Did you notice any tracks from the wood towards the
batteries ? . . . Two tracks! . . . but my map shows a
line of barbed wire running across . GoodI . . .
there is a useable track as far as 19 c, and by striking
east before you corne to the cross tracks itis possible to
iind an opening in the wire.. Good, Bullivant. .
I expect I shall move the batteries that way. . No,
no orders to move yet !"

THE FIOHT FOR RONSOY 21î

At 1.15 P.L, after further talks with the brigade-
major, the colonel told me to send out this message to
the four batteries:--

" Brigade will advance as soon as possible to
position in F 20, or if that locality is full up, in
F 21 c. Prepare to advance, and report to Brigade
commander at F 2 0 c 4, 2."

The colonel's horses had been ordered up from the
waggon line. " Hubbard and I will go on," he told
me, "and Hubbard can commence laying out lines to
the batteries' new positions. ¥ou will remain here to
keep in touch with Division. I shall be back before
we move, and batteries are hot to go forward until
orders are issued from here."
He returned af 4 P.M. and told me to send out
orders for an immediate advance to the positions
chosen. I was returning from the signallers' dug-out
when a young major belonging to the s passed,
followed by a sergeant. The major looked pale and
worn, but walked cluickly. There are moments when
personal acquaintance with members of other branches
of the Service possesses a very direct value. 1 did not
know Major very well, but a habit contracted
through frequent visits to the Infantry ruade me call
out "Any news ?"
"Our Brigade's doing a clearing-up attack at rive
o'clock," he answered without stopping.
"We don't know anything about that," I said,
catching him up. " How long is it since orders were
issued ?"
"l've only just left the General," he replied, still walk-
ing ahead.
" Can you spa'e two mhmtes to explain the scheme

256 PUSttED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

fo the colonel," I pressed. "Our batteries are juat
about to move up."
"I hardly have time to get to the battalion," he
answered with a frown of dissent.
"Two Ininutes!" I pleaded--and succeeded. We
hurried to the mess. There was a quick, clear ex-
change of words between the major and the colonel.
The major sped away as the colonel thanked him.
" Telephone st once to the batteries to prevent them
moving!" said the colonel, turning to me.
Before rive minutes had passed, the colonel, after a
te]ephone talk with the brigadier-general, had arranged
a short barrage programme for the batteries.
"There's usefulness in your being a gossip, you see,"
he smiled, a quarter of an hour later.
The orders for the batteries to advance still held
good, and immediately the barrage ceased they pulled
out. By 6 r.. the colonel had ridden forward again.
My instructions were to remain until the divisional
signalling ofiicer had laid a line to the new Brigade
Headquarters. At eight o'clock, followed by " Ernest"
and the Brigade signallers who had stayed with me, I
rode through St Emilie and dipped into a cul-de--sac
valley crowded with the tield batteries of another
Division. Our way took us toward and across gorse-
clad, wild-looldng uplands. Night approached. Just
as we halted st a spot where two puddly, ehurned-up
sunken roads crossed, guns behind and on either side
of us belched forth flalne and rasping sound. Eighteen-
pounder shells sereamed swiftly over us; the whole
eountryside spurted flashes. One of the horses plunged
with nervousness. "It's an S.O.S. eall, sir," said a
driver who had put his horse under a bank, raising
his voiee against the din. " Ernest," his little body

THE FIGHT FOR RONSSOY

quivering with excitement, was already racing back-
wards and forwards. I told my groom te take my
herse into the sunken road, and started te look for
the colonel and the headquarters party. A sticky
walk up the track te the left took me within a couple
of hundred yards of the village of Ronssoy, where
most of the Boche shells were falling. No signs of
Headquarters up there. Af ter a lot of shouting te
persuade the dog te keep near me, I turned back
and went through the mud again, past the cross-roads
junction, and along a still slimier, water-logged cart-
track. I round every one on Headquarters digging
shelters in the side of the road. The servants had
rigged up a corrugated-iron habitation for the colonel.
The brigade clerks, the signallers, and the cooks had
dug hard, and ruade use of trench-covers, with tho
swift resource that long experience of trench-life had
developed into a kind of second nature. Hubbard had
arranged an "elephant," raised on two rows of ancient
sandbags, for himself and me te snu:gle under.
"l've sent out S.O.S. lines te the batteries," said the
colonel, who was sitting on a box in a long-di.-used gun-
pit. "We'll turn this place into a mess to-morrow."
The firing died down. I sent seine one te tell the
groom te take the horses back te the waggon line
which was being established at the headquarters posi-
tion we had just left. The cook prepared us a simple
meal. By 10 P.. the brigade-major had telephoned in-
structions for the night-firing with which the batteries
were te busy themselves. Out night was disturbed by
the swish-plop of gas shells, but none came near enough
seriously te disquiet us.

258

XV. "ERNEST" IS LOST

SPT. 19: That morning Bob Pottinger reported at
Brigade Headquarters, smiling all over his face. An
extra leave warrant had corne in, and it was his turn
to go. For weeks past every one had known of his
eagerness to get home, in order to conduct certain matri-
monial projects to the "Yes or No" stage. Leave to
England was going nicely now. Durable, young Beale,
Judd, and Hetherington were away, and the men were
going at the rate of rive p.er day. Officers had to be
tive months in France since their last leave--raostly it
ran to seven; the men's qualification was twelve months.
Happy is the army that is attacking! Only when the
enemy has full possession of the initiative is leave
entirely cut off.
Of the 5 P.M. attack carried out the night before by
the --th Brigade, all that we knew was that unex-
pectedly large numbers of the enemy had been met.
The fighting had been tierce, and the Boche still held
some of the ground the Brigade had set out to take.
Right through the night our guns had been busy firing
protective bursts.
The mystery of the Boche's unlooked-for strength was
explained by a Divisional wire that reached us about
8 A.. It stated that a prisoner captured by the--th
Brigade said that at 7 A.M. on the 18th, following

"ERbEST" IS LOST 259

urgent orders resulting from the British offensive at
5.20, a whole Boche division came by bus from Maretz,
fourteen toiles back. Their mission was to nmke a
counter-attack that would win back the original line.
ihey depliyed at ]ony, near the canal, and completed
their march in readiness for an attack at 6 P.M. ]ut
the 5 1.. thrust by our mth Brigade completely sur-
prised them, and in fact broke up their offensive. The
prisoner also reported that many casualties had been
caused by our artillery tire.
The brigade-major, telephoning at 9 A.M., told us fur-
ther details about the main offensive of the day before.
The hold-up on our left had continued until late in the
evening, in spite of renewed attacks on a big scale.
"The German Alpine Corps have some of the stiffest
fighters we have run agains for a long time," he went
on. " On the outskirts of Épehy onu post was held by
three officers and forty-five men until 7.45 P.M. When
-they surrendered there were only seventeen hot wounded."
The sunken road we were occupying led towards the
red-brick, modern-looking village of Templeux-le-Guerard.
A German encampment, quite a large one, containing
several roomy huts newly built and well fitted up, stood
outside the eastern edge of the village. The colonel had
just pointed out that any amount of material for the
impro'ement of our tIeadquarters was to be had for the
fetching, and I had despatched the wheeler and a party
of servants and signallers to the German encampment
when the telephone bell rang.
It was the brigade-major again. "We're doing
nother attack," he said cheerfully, "to finish the work
started last evening .... I want you to open on line
F 10 c 2.0 to F 16 b 0.8 .... Dwell there till 11.20.
• . . Then creep 1100 yards in a north-esterly direc-

260 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

tion--100 yards each four minutes--to F 11 a 4.0 to
F 11 d 2.5 .... Dwell twenty minutes .... Then
creep 100 yards each four minutes to F 11 b 1.3 to
F 11 d 8.7 .... 4'5 hows. on Sart Farm ....
Open ai tapid tate on start-line for first four minutes.
• . . Then go to Normal Rate for the creep, and Slow
on final protective barrage .... Is that clear ? . . .
Right ! . . . Good-bye."
I had repeated the map co-ordinates as the brigade-
major gave them, and had written them down; and the
colonel, coming in to the mess, followed the telephone
conversation on his map. I handed him my note:book,
and for rive minutes he worked in his rapid silent way,
with his ivory pocket-rule and scale for measuring map
co-ordinates. Then he told the telephonist on duty to
get him each battery in turn; and the Irigade was soon
a stage nearer in its preparations for supporting the
Infantry brigade selected to make the attack.
Ten minutes later the brigade-major again rang up to
say that the how. battery was required to tire smoke-
shells on certain points.
Before the fight began the colonel ruade a tour of the
batteries. The party sent to the German camp returned
with forms and tables, and plenty of corrugated iron and
boards; and it was while I was detailing a party of
them to dig a sleeping-place for the colonel farther into
the bank that a group of officers, headed by a red-tabbed
staff captain, came along. Even if I had not recognised
him from his portraits--or because two winters before
the war he and I stayed in the saine hotel at lice--
there was no doubt as to his identity, lame and title
appeared written in indelible pencil on his box-respirator.
tIe told me he was looking for a headquarters for his
brigade, and he had heard that the sunken road was a

"ERIEST" IS LOST 261

likely spot. "I don't know how long we shall be here,"
I replied, "but we intend to carry out as many improve-
ments as possible. It will be a decent place to take over
when we leave." And I indicated the digging party.
"Ernest," as usual, was extremely affable, and received
any amount of petting and patting from the visiting
of Scers. Just as they departed the assistant brigade
clerk came to me with a batch of men's leave warrants.
1 went into the mess, and was occupied signing the
warrants and other documents for ten minutes or so.
When I came out there was no sign of "Ernest." Ten
minutes later the attack started and the air was fluttered
with the swish and scream of shells.
An hour passed. The colonel returned. ¥e lunched.
Afterwards the colonel removed his jacket, did a bit of
sawing, and directed the wheeler and hs party in the
task of boarding-in our gun-pit mess, so as to leave if no
longer exposed to wind and tain on two sides, ttubbard,
who was proud of his strength, climbed on top and
pulled and shifted the three six-inch girders to more
suitable positions. I took a turn with pick and shovel
in the improvement of the colonel's dug-out. The dog
had not corne back. One of the orderlies thought he
had seen him running along with the officers who had
called before lunch.
About half-past three the brigade-major called for our
18-pounders to drive off another toche wave with a
half-hour's shower of shrapnel; he also wanted our how.
battery to devote itself to Sart Farm and ttolland Post,
which forward observers reported to be little strongholds
of enemy trench-mortars and nachine-guns. Still no
sign of "Ernest." The mess-cart arrived at rive o'clock,
and as a last resource I scribbled a note to the doctor,
who was as fond of the dog as any of us, describing the

262 PUSHED, AND TItE RETURN PUSIt

titled staff captain, and urging him to scour the country-
side until he struck a trail that would lead to "Ernest's"
recovery.
At 7.30 f.M. an S.O.S. call, telephoned by Drysdale,
who was doing liaison with the --th Infantry Brigade,
showed how desperately the Boche was contesting the
occupation of the strong points on this portion of the
front, although a Corps Intelligence Summary, delivered
about the saine rime, told us that 60 ofiïcers and 2315
other ranks, wounded and unwounded, had passed through
the Corps prisoners of war cages since 6 ... the day
before, and that the strength of the average Hun infantry
company had been reduced to 60 rifles.
As the colonel, Hubbard, and myself sat down to
dinner, the following message was handed to me :--
" Wire has been laid out to O.P. at F 16 c 42 by
B and C Batteries. The contours on the small
paper 1/20.000 map are not correct in this
neighbourhood. New zero line was registered
on Tombois Farm."

"Yes, l've already warned the batteries that the
special m aps are hot reliable," commented the colonel.
The end of the day found our infantry in possession
of most of the strong points they had striven to seize,
but at a heavy cost. And all through the night our
batteries poured forth tierce deadly tire to harass and
nullify Hun efforts to loosen our grip.
It was the same sort of warfare next day. The
fighting was carried out yard by yard. There was a
certain post, Doleful Post, very valuable to the Boche
because it dominated the ilnmediate neighbourhood. It
was our batteries' business to make it hellishly uncom-
fortable for him. At 10 ..M. the colonel, after a talk

"ERNEST" IS LOST 263

with Division, ordered the Brigade te bring harassing tire
te bear during the next twenty-four hours upon Doleful
Post and the valley running north-east from it. The
three 18-pdr. batteries were te work in two-hour shifts,
firing 50 rounds an heur; the 4"5 how. battery was te
tire 15 rounds per heur continuously. Next day the
infantry were te storm the post, and thus secure a
jumping-off spot for another forward leap.
With a more or less settled programme laid down--
for twenty-four hours at any rate--the colonel, Hubbard,
and I devoted seine thought te the building of our head-
quarters. "It looks as if we were in for a spell of
trench warfare without the protection we were ac-
customed te in trench-warfare days," observed the
colonel. "There are no mined dug-outs te hide in."
The cook, a Scottish miner, had con trived a kind of
two-storied habitation in his little stretch of the
bank; and he and Manning and my servant felt them-
selves moderately sale. The colonel's home--heavy
"elephant " roof and wooden walls stuffed well into
the bank--being complete, the wheeler, the servants,
l=[ubbard, and myself put backs and forearms into the
task of fashioning a similar shelter for tIubbard and
me. I, of course, could net stray far from the tele-
phone. The staff captain wanted te talk about new
ammunition dumps and gun-repairing workshops. Major
Bullivant inquired whether he couldn't be selected for
he next gunnery course at Shoeburyness. Major Veasey
thought if rime another captain relieved Drysdale as
liaison otficer with the-Infantry Brigade. And all the
rime there were routine papers and returns te be looked
through and signed.
" There's something that will de for the September
War Diary," said the colonel, putting in front of me

264 PUSHED, AlgD THE RETURlg PUSH

a letter sent to him by the brigadier- general com-
manding one of out Infantry brigades. It ran :d
"I ara anxious that you and your officers and
men should know how grateful I and my battalion
commanders are to you for the excellent barrage
you gave us yesterday morning (Sel,t. 18) under
such very ditticult circumstances. They all realise
that with the noving of batteries, getting up the
ammunition, and the frequent barrages you are
called upon to provide, besides the harassing and
the normal shooting, a very great strain is placed
on your Brigade. And the success we had yester-
day was ]argely ruade possible by the splendid
work of your people."

About eleven o'clock the doctor, who had ridden from
the waggon line, came in gaily singing " Hail! hail! the
CI" » {
ang s all here," to a tune from the l'irates of Penzance."
"l've located 'Ernest,' " he shouted triumphantly when
he saw me.
" Splendid," I answered, smiling in return. " Have
you got him at the waggon line ?"
"No; Isawhim asI wascoming up here. Hewas
trotting along with a captain who was going towards that
village with the factory, over there."
"Was he a staff captain, with a Military Cross and
another ribbon ?" I asked.. . "Didn't you tell him it
was our dog ?"
" That's so. I told him that, and ':Ernest' came and
jumped around when he saw me; but the captain said
it couldn't be out dog, because a brigadier-general's naine
was on the collar, and he wasn't going to let him go ; his
colonel wanted him. Besides," added the doctor plain-
tively, "' Ernest' wouldn't follow me."

"ERNEST" IS LeST 265

"I-Iis colonel !" I repeated, puzzled. "Didn't he say
'his General' A staff captain is on a brigadier-
general's staff.... His colonel? .. Are you sure
he was a staff captain? Was he wearing red ?"
"I didn't see any red," replied the doctor. "He was
walking behind a wa.gon that had a pile of wood and
iron on it. It looked as if they were moving."
My face fell. " Did you notice his regiment ? Was
he a unner or an infa,,tryman, or what?" I asked
quickly.
" Well, I «.an't say that I did. I don't know all your
re2lmetl ts.
The colonel joined us. "Laneridge has brought my
mare up," he remarked pleasantly. "You'd like a litt]e
exercise, perhaps. When the doctor has finished bis
sick parade you take my mare and see if the dog
can be found."
The doctor and I rode across country, and scoured
the village he had pointed te, but there was no trace
of "Ernest." We spoke te a couple of military police-
men, told them all about out loss, saw that they in-
scribed particulars in their note-books, and then con-
tinued out inquiries among seine heavy gunners, who
had pulled into a garden near the sugar factory. I
even narrated the story te an Irish A.P.M., who was
standing in the street conversing with a motoring staff
officer. "l've been in this village fully an heur and
haven't seen a dog such as you describe," said the
A.P.M. "And I'm sure I sould have noticed him.
• . . I'm fond of dogs, and I notice them all. . . l'll
help you any way I can.. Give me full particulars,
and l'll pass them round te my police."
He lisened while I tried te obtain further clues frein
the doctor au te the branch of the service te which the

266 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

captain, seen that morning with "Ernest," belonged.
The doctor, his cap tilted backwards, a long dark cigar
protruding at an angle of 45 degrees from the corner of
his mouth, did his best, but it was no good. " I'm sorry
mi don't know your regiments well enough," he said at
last.
° It was at this point that the doctor's groom--in the
building trade before the war--entered into the conver-
sation. He had heard everything that had been said
since the quest began, but this was the first remark
he had ruade.
"The officer the medical ofiïcer spoke to this morning,
sir, was in the Pioneers," he said to me.
"Why didn't you tell us that before ?" asked the
doctor impatiently.
" Sorry, sir, you didn't ask me," was the toneless
reply.
The doctor looked unutterable things, and the lighted
end of his cigar described three or four irregular circles.
"Gosh !" he pronounced briskly. "We gotta put more
pep into looking for this dog, or the war'll end before we
find him."
A high-velocity shell bursting on the near side of
the factory helped to decide us. The A.P.M. said that
a party of the Pioneers had marched down the street
hall an hour ago. The doctor and I bade him good-
bye, went through the village, and were directed to
a lane alongside a rilway embankment. In one
among a row of wooden huts, where the Headquarters
of the reserve infantry brigade were quartered, we
round the colone of the Pioneers finishing lunch. He
and our colonel were old friends, and immediately I
explained the object of my visit he became sympa-
thetic. " ](es," he laughed, "we have your dog--at

"ERNEST" IS LOST 267

least our A Company have him. I believe they
found him wandering on the other side of the valley.
... Stop and have some hmch, and l'll scnd for
alto.
" No, thank you, sir .... I shall hve to be getting
back."
A subaltern went off to fetch the dog. The doctor
left to pick up the horses and to return to the waggon
line. The colonel invited me to have a drink. ut
there was disappointment when the subaltern returned.
" I'm afraid the dog bas gone again, sirabout half an
hour ago."
"Really !" said the colonel.
"Yes, sir; he was in A Company's mess whea two
Gunner ofiïcers passed, and lin went after them."
" He knows your badge, at any rate," remarked the
colonel to me with twinkling eyes. "Fro sorry you've
had your journey for nothing. But we'll kee a look-out
and send him back if he returns to us."
" I'm going to have another search round the village
before I go back, sir," I responded determinedly. "We're
getting warmer."
Turning from the lane into the road that led into the
village, I noticed a groom who had been waiting with his
two horses since the first rime I passed the spot. At
first he thought he hadn't seen  dog that looked like
a cross between an Airedale and a Belgian sheep-dog.
Then he fancied he had. Yes, he believed it had passed
that way with an R.A.M.C. major. " But those men near
that ambulance car will tell you, sir. They were play-
ing with the dog I saw, about half an hour ago."
Yes, I was really on the trafl now. "That's right,
sir," remarked the R.A.M.C. sergeant when he had helped
two walking wounded into the ambulance car "I

68 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

remember the dog, and saw the naine on the collar ....
He followed our major about twenty minutes ago. He's
gone across that valley to Brigade Headquarters... I
don't think he'll be long."
"What's it like up there ?" asked one of the ambu-
lance men of a slight, fagged-looking lance-corporal of the
Fusiliers, who had been hit in the shoulder.
"Hot!" replied the Fusilier. " One dropped near
Battalion Headquarters and killed our sergeant ....
I tSink there are rive more of our lot coming along."
There were two more places to be fi]led before tbe
ambulance car moved off: Anot|mr Fusilier, wounded
in the knee, hobbled p, assisted by two men of the
saine regiment, one of them with his head bandaged,
"Hullo, Jim !" called the lance-corporal from the
ambulance. " I wondered if you'd corne along too, Did
you see Tom ?"
":No," responded the man hit in the ankle.
The ambulance moved off. An empty one took its
place. It was a quarter to two, but I was resolved to
wait now until the R.A.M.C. major returned. Three
shells came over and dropped near the railway. More
walking wounded filled places in the ambulance.
The major, with "Ernest" at his heels, came back at
a quarter-past two. " Ernest" certainly knew me again.
He leapt up and licked my hand, and looked up while
the major listened to my story. "Well, I should have
kept him--or tried to do so," he said. "He's a taking
little fellow, and l've always had a dog until a few weeks
ago .... But" with a pleasant smile " I think
you've earned your right to him .... l've never seen
a dog so excited by shells .... Well, good-bye!"
He walked away, and "Ernest" started after him,
I tood still in the centre of the road. The dog turned

"ERbEST" IS LeST 269

his head as if te see whether I meant te follow. Then
he came back, and quietly lay down at my feet.
We had a joyous walk home. There were shells te
scamper after, wire te scramble through, old trenches te
explore. The return of "Ernest" brought a deep content
te our mess.

Sept. 21 : The attack which started at 5.40 ,¢.M. was
carried out by two of out Divisional Infantry brigades;
a brigade of another Division attacked simultaneously.
The object was te close with the main enemy positions
in the Hindenburg Line. Tanks were put in te break
down the opposition--sure te be met by the brigades on
the left and right; and every officer in the Division
knew that if the final objectives could be held the Boche
would be compelled te withdraw large forces te the far
side of the canal. The attack was planned with extra-
ordinary attention te detail. Battalions were ordered
net te attempt te push on beyond the final objective;
trep, ch mortars were te be moved up te cover the con-
solidation of the final positions; the reconnaissance work
had been specially thorough. Our batteries had horses
and limbers in readiness for a quick rushing up of the
guns.
The earlier part of the operation went well enough,
but by 8 ,¢.. we knew that out two Infantry brigades
were having te go ail out. The Boche machine-gunners
were firing with exemplary coolness and precision. At
8.30 the brigade-major telephoned that every gun we
possessed must tire bursts on certain hostile battery
positions. The colonel and I didn't leave the mess that
morning; the telephone was rarely out of use. At half-
past ten Iajor Bartlett, who had gone forward te an
infantry post te see what was happening, got a message

270 IUSHED, AND THE RETURN IUSH

back to say that, harassed by heavy machine-gun and
rifle tire, out infantry were coming boek. Aeroplane
calls for artillery tire on hostile batteries were twice
responded to by our batteries. Drysdale, doing liaison
with the tord Infantry trigade, reported that two bat-
talions had had severe losses. A buff slip from the
Casualty Clearing Station informed us tha the lead
driver of our brigade telephone cart had died in hospital
overnight: he had been hit just after leaving the Head-
quarters position the previous evening, and was the
second tIeadquarters driver to be killed since Sept. 1.
The only relief during a morning of excitenent and
some gloom was the arrival of three big cigars, sent by
the doctor for the colonel, Hubbard, and myself. As the
colonel didn't smoke cigars, the only solution was for
Hubbard and myself to toss for the remaining one.
Hubbard won.
At one o'clock it became clear that our infantry could
not hope to do more than consolidate upon their first
objective. There was no prospect of the batteries
noving forward, ancl at 1.30 the colonel told me to send
out this message to all batteries--
"Gun limbers and firing battery waggons need
hot be kept within 20 0 0 yards of gun positions
any longer to-day."

Mjor Veasey called on us at tea-time, and the talk
ran on the possibilities of the next few days' fighting.
"The toche seems bent on holding out here as long as
he can," said the major. "I think he's fighting a rear-
guard action on a veT big scale," said the colonel
thoughtfully. "Our air reports indicate much movement
in his back areas .... And most of his artillery tire is
from long range now."

"ERNEST" IS LOST 271

"Let's hope it continues in that way," went on the
major, filling his pipe. " If only he'd stop his beastly
gas shells it wouldn't be so bad. It's not clean war.
I'd vote willingly for an armistice on gas shells."
"Are you improving your accommodation at the
battery ?" asked the colonel. "We're likely to be hem
a few days, and we must make as much protection as
we tan."
"We've got quite a decent dug-out in the bank to
sleep in," answered Major Veasey, getting up to go, "but
our mess is rather in the open--under a tarpaulin.
However, it's quite a pleasant mess. Bullivant and
Simpson came to dine last night, and we played bridge
till eleven."
I had sent out the S.O.S. lines to batteries, and we
had sat down to dinner a little earlier than usual, owing
to the desirability of showing as little light as possible,
when the telephone bell rang. I put the receiver to
my ear.
A strong decided voice spoke. "Is that the adjutant,
sir? . . . l'm Sergeant of D Battery, sir ....
Major Veasey has been badly wounded."
"Major Veasey wounded," I repeated, and the colonel
and Hubbard put down knives and forks and listened.
"Yes, sir, . . a gas shell came into the mess. Mr
Kelly and Mr Wood have been wounded as well...
We've got them away to the hospital, sir .... Mr Kelly
got it in the face, sir... I'm afraid he's blinded."
"How was Major Veasey wounded ?"
"In the arm and foot, sir.. . Mr Wood was hot
so bad."
"There's no other ofiicer at D Battery, sir," I said to
the colonel, who was already turning up the list of
oflïcers in his note-book.

272 PUSttED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

"Tell him that the senior sergeant will take command
until an officer arrives," replied the colonel promptly,
"and then get on to Drysdale at the infantry, l'll speak
fo him. . I don't like the idea of Veasey being
wounded by a gas shell," he added quickly. Depression
descended upon all three of us.
The colonel told Captain Drysdale to inform the
Infantry brigadier what had happened, and to obtain his
immediate permission to go to the battery, about half a
toile away. "You've got a subaltern at the waggon line.
• Get him ui," advised the colonel, "the sergeant-
major can carry on there .... Tell the General that
anothcr officer will arrive as soon as possible to do
liaison."
The colonel looked again at his note-book. "We're
frightfully down in officers," he said at last. " l'll ask
Colonel m__ of the--rd if he can spare some one fo
take on to-night."
"I hope Yeasey and Kelly are not badly wounded,"
he said later, lighting a cigarette. "And I'm glad it
didn't corne last night, when there were three battery
commanders at the bridge party. That would have
been catastrophe."
That night the 13oche rained gas shells all round our
quarters in the sunken road. I-Iubbard and myself and
"Ernest" were hot allowed much sleep in our right
little, tight little hut. One shell dropped within twenty
yards of us; thrice fairly heavy shell splinters played
an unnerving tattoo upon our thick iron roof; once
we were forced to wear our box-respirators for hall
an hour.
At 11.30 P.. the colonel telephoned from his hut to
ours to tell me that new orders had corne in from the

"ERNEST " IS LOST 273

brigade-major. "We are putting down a barrage from
midnight till 12.15 . M.," he said. "¥ou needn't worry.
l've sent out orders to the batteries .... Out inïantry
are making an assault at 12.15 on Doleful Post. It
ought fo sartle the Hum He won't expect anything ai
that hour."

S

XVI. THE DECISIVE DAYS

SEPT. 22: If was as the colonel expected. The Boche
took our hurricane bombardment from midnight to 12.15
A.M. to be an unusually intense burst of night-firing;
and when our guns "lifted" some six hundred yards, our
infantry swept forward, and in a few minutes captured
two posts over which many lires had been unavailingly
expended during the two preceding days. Sixty pris-
oners also were added to their bag.
But the enemy was only surprised--not done with.
This was ground that had been a leaping-off place for
his mighty rush in March 1918. Close behind lay
country hat had hot been trod by Allid troops since
the 1914 invasion, tIe counter-attacked fiercely, and
at 5.10 A.M. a signaller roused me with the message.
"Out attack succeeded in capturing Duncan and
Doleful Posts, but failed on the rest of the front.
S.O.S. line will be brought back to the line it was on
after 12 midnight. Bursts of harassing tire will be put
down on the S.O.S. lines and on approaches in rear from
now onwards. About three bursts per hour. Heavy
artillery is asked to conform."
I telephoned to the batteries to alter their S.O.S.
lines, and told the colonel what had been done. Thon I
ought sleep again.
After breakfast the brigade-major telelohoned that the

THE DECISIY DAYS 275

Division immediately north of us was about to attempt
the capture of a strong point that had become a wasps'
nest of machine-gunuers. "We have to hold Duncan
Post and Doleful Post at all costs," he «dded. All
through the morning messages from Division artillery
and from the liaison officer told the saine talc: tierce
sallies and desperate counter-attacks between small
parties of the opposing infantry, who in places held
trench slits and rough earthworks within a mashie shot
of each other. About noon the Gcrmans loosed off a
terrible burst of tire on a 500-yards' front. "Every Boche
gun for toiles round seemed to be pulverising that awful
bit," " 13uller," who had gone forward fo observe, told me
afterwards. "My two telephonists hid bchind a brick
wall that received two direct hits, and I lay for a quarter
of an hour in a shell-hole without daring to move. Then
half  dozen of their aeroplnes came over in close for-
mation and tried to find our infantry with their machine-
guns. . . I got the wind up properly." Our batteries
nswered three S.O.S. calls between 10 A.M. and 1 o'clock;
and, simultaneously with a news message from Division
stating that British cavah'y hd reched qazareth and
crossed the Jordan, that 18,000 prisoners and 160 guns
had been captured, and that Liman von Sanders had
escaped by the skin of his teeth, came  report from
young Beale that Germans could be seen massing for a
big effort.
I passed this information to the brigade-major, and
our guns, and the heavies behind them, fired harder than
ever. Then for an hour until 3 o'clock we got a respire.
A couple of pioneers, lent to us by the colonel, who had
shown himself so sympathetic in the marrer of the lost
dog, worked stolidly with plane and saw and foot-rule,
improving our gun-pit mess by more expert crpentering

276 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

than we could hope to possess. The colonel tore the
wrapper of the latest copy of an automobile journal,
posted to bim weekly, and devoted himself to an article
on spring-loaded starters. I read a type-written docu-
ment from the staff captain that related to the collection
« as opportunity offers," of two field guns captured from
the enemy two days before.
But at 3.35 the situation became electric again. The
clear high-pitched voice of young Beale sounded over
the line that by a miracle had not yet been smashed by
shell-fire. " Germans in large numbers are coming over
the ridge south of Tombois 'arm," he said.
I got through to the brigade-major, and he instructed
me to order our guns to search back 1000 yards from
that portion of our front.
« Don't tell the batteries to ' search back,'" broke in
the colonel, who had heard me telephoning. " It's a
confusing expression. Tell them to 'search east,' or
'north-east' in this case."
By a quarter to four the telephone wires were buzzing
feverishly. More S.O.S. rockets had gone up. The
enemy had launched a very heavy connter-attack. Our
over-worked gunners left their tea, and tons of metal
screamed through the air. Within an hour Drysdale
sent us most inspiring news.
"The infantry are awfully pleased with our S.O.S.
b OE '
arraoe, he said briskly. As a matter of fact, that
burst you ordered at 3.40 was more useful still,
caught the Germans as they came out to attack ....
They were stopped about 150 yards from our line ....
They had to go back through our barrage .... It was
a great sight .... The dead can be seen in heaps ....
Over twenty Boche ran through our barrage and gave
themselves up."

THE DECISIVE DAYS 277

Drysdale had more good news for us twenty minutes
later. Two companies of a battalion hot attacked--they
were to the right bf the place to which the enemy
advanced--saw what was happen]ng, dashed forward
along a winding communication trench, and seized a
position that hitherto they had found impregnable. They
got a hundred l,risoners out of the affair.
Two more S.O.S. calls went up before dinner-time,
but a day of tremendous heavy fighting ended with our
men in glorious possession of some of the hardest-won
ground in the history of the Division.
"If we can hold on where we are until really fresh
troops relieve us we shall be over the ttindenburg Line
in three days," said the colonel happily, as he selected
targets for the night-firing programme.
tte had written " From receipt of this message S.O.S.
lines will be as follows--" when he stopped. " Can't
we shorten this preliminary verbiage ?" he asked quizzi-
cally. "Castle ruade this opening phrase a sort of
tradition when he was adjutant."
"What about 'Henceforth S.O.S. lines will be'?" I
replied, tilting my wooden stool backwards.
"That will dol" said the colonel.
And "henceforth " it became after that.
For two more days we carried on this most tiring of
all kinds of fighting : for the infantry, hourly scraps with
a watchful plucky foe; for the gunners, perpetual readi-
ness to tire protective bursts shou]d the enemy suddenly
seek to shake our grip on this most fateful stretch of
front; in addition to day and night programmes of
"crashes" that allowed the gun detachments no rest,
and at the same time demanded unceasing care in
" laying" and loading and firing the guns. And with
the opposing infantry so close to each other, and the

278 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

front line changing backwards and forwards from hour
to hour, absolute accuracy was never more necessary.
The Brigade had had no proper test since the early days
of August. The lnen had been given no opportunîty for
baths or change of clothing. Out casualties had not
been heavy, but they were draining us steadily, and
reinforcements stepped into this strenuous hectic fighting
with no chance of the training and testing under actual
war conditions that make a period of quiet warfare so
valuable. And yet it was this prtion of "the fifty
days," this exhausting, remorseless, unyielding struggling
that really led to the Boche's final downfall. It forced
him to abandon the Hindenburg Line--the beginning of
the very end.
I was going to write that it was astonishing how
uncomplainingly, how placidly each one of us went on
with his ordinary routine duties during this rime. But,
after all, it wasn't astonishing. The moments were too
occupied for weariness of soul; our minds rioted with
the thought, "He's getting done! Let's get on with
it! Let's finish him." And if at rimes one reflected
on the barrenness, the wastefulness of war, there still
remained the satisfying of the instinct to do one:s work
well. The pioneers had done their very best, and ruade
quite a house of our mess, even finding glass to put in
the windows. I don't know that the old wheeler under-
stood me when I emphasised this thoroughness of the
pioneers by adding, "You see, we British always build
for posterity "; but before we went away he began to
take a pride in keeping those windows clean.
On Sept. 25 we heard without much pleasure that
we had corne under another Divisional Artillery, and
wero to retire to out waggon lines by nightfall. "I'd
rather stay here a few days longer and then go out

THE DECISIVE DAYS 279

for a proper rest," said the colonel, taking appreci-
aive stock of the habitations that had arisen since
our occupation. "I'm afraid this order means a shift
to another part of the line." And if was so. Our
Brigade was to side-step north, and the colonel and
the battery commanders went off after lunch to re-
connoitre positions. An Australian Field Artillery
brigade came to " take-over" from us, and I yarned
with their colonel and adjutant and intelligence officer
while waiting for our colonel to return. I told them
that it was ages since I had seen a ' Sydney Bulletin.'
"I used to get mine regularly," said their adjutant,
"but it hasn't corne for ten weeks now. I expect some
skrim-shanker at the post-office or at the base is pinching
it .... I'm going to tell my people to wrap it up in the
'War Cry' before posting it. I know one chap who'a
had that done for over a year. :No one thinks of pinch-
ing it then."
One of the Australian batteries was late getting in,
and it was half-past seven before the colonel and I,
waiting for the relief to be complete, got away. The
Boche guns had been quiet all the afternoon. But--
how often it happens when one bas bcen delayed !m
shells fell about the track we intended to take when
we mounted our horses, and we had to side-track to
be out of danger. When we arrived at Headquarters
waggon lines it was too late to dine in daylight; and
as Hun bombers were on the war-path, our dinner was
a blind-man's-buff affair.
The colonel had been told that we should be required
to fight a battle at our new positions on the 27th, and
already the batteries had commenced to take up am-
munition. :But whenm the Hun aeroplanes having
passed by and candles being permissible in out tents

280 PUSHED, AND THE RETURlX7 PUStt

--the brigade clerk produced an order requiring us te
have two guns per battery in action that very night, I
considered joylessly the prospect of a long move in the
dark.
" They expect us te move up to-night, sir," I liold
the colonel, handing him the order brought by a motor-
cyclist despatch-bearer about eight o'clock.
" Oh!" said the colonel--and the " Oh !" was a chef-
d'oeuvre of irony.
Then he wrote a masterly little note, perfect in its
correctness, and yet instinct with the power and know-
ledge of a commander who had a mind of his own. He
wrote as follows, and told me te hand the message te the
returning despatch-rider :--
"Ref. your B.M. 85 dated 25th Sept., I regret
that I shall net be able te move one section per
battery into action to-night.
" I was late in returning frein my reconnaissance
owing te delay in fixing position for my Brigade
l:Ieadquarters; did net get the order until eight
o'clock, and by that time batteries had started
moving ammunition up te the positions. Ail
available guides had gone up with the ammuni-
tion waggons.
"My batteries will be prepared te tire a barrage
by dawn on 27th Sept.
" In confirmation of my telephone conversation
with B.M. to-day positions selected are as
follows :--"

The message closed with the map co-ordinates of the
positions chosen for our four batteries, and with a request
for the map location of the Divisional Artillery Head-
quarters, te which the note was sent.

THE DECISIVE DAYS 281

Next day, the 26th, was a day of busy preparation.
We learned that, for the first time, we should be in
active co-operation with an American Division. The
infantry of the British Division we were workig under
had been told off to protect he left. flank of the American
Division. The object of the attack was the capture of
the last dominating strong-posts that guarded a section
of the Hindenburg Line, immediately north of the section
for which our own Divisional infantry had battled since
Sept. 19. The enemy was to be surprised. Our guns,
when placed in position, had to remain silent until they
began the barrage on the 27th. That morning, there-
fore, topographical experts busied themselves ascertain-
ing exact map locations of the batteries' positions so as
to ensure accurate slooting by the map. The point was
emphasised by the colonel, who wrote to all batteries :m
" Battery Commanders are reminded that as bar-
rages on morning of 27th will be fired without
previous registration of guns,
"THE LINE LAID OUT MUST NOT BE ENTIRELY
DEPENDEIT ON COMPASS BEARIIG. Check it by
measuring angles to points which can be identi-
fied on the map. All ca]culations to be ruade by
two officers working separately, who will then check
each other.
"Every precaution must be taken hot to
attract the attention of the enemy to batteries
moving forward into action, lothing to be taken
up in daylight, except in the event of very bad
visibility."

The colonel rode over to see the C.R.A. of the Division
to whom our Brigade had been loaned. After lunch he
held a battery comnanders' conference in his tent, and

282 PUSHED, AND THE RETURIq PUSH

explained the morrow's barrage scheme. "Ernest," the
dog, spent a delighted frolicsome hour chasing a :Rugby
football that some Australians near our waggon lines
brought out for practice. Hubbard went on to the new
positions to lay out his telephone lines. I occupied
mysclf completing returns for the staff captain.
By rive o'clock I had joined the colonel and Hubbard
at the new positions. Our only possible mess was a
roofless gun-pit not far from a road. The colonel and
ttubbard were covering it with scrap-heap sheets of
rusty iron, and a tarpaulin that was not sufiïciently
expansive. Further down the road was a dug-out into
which two could squeeze. The colonel said Hubbard
and I had better occupy it. He preferred to sleep in
the gun-pit, and already had gathered up a few armfuls
of grasses ad heather to lie upon. Manning and the
cook had disovered a hole of their own, and the two
clerks and the orderlies had cramped themselves into
a tiny bivouac.
The final fastening-down of the gun-pit roof was en-
livened by heavy enemy shelling of a battery four hun-
dred yards north-east of us. Several splinters whistled
past, and one flying piece of iron, four inches long and an
inch wide, missed my head by about a foot and buried itself
in the earthen floor of the mess. "That's the narrowest
escape you've had for some time," smiled the colonel.
Ten minutes later the brigade clerk brought me the
evening's batch of Divisional messages and routine orders.
This was the first one I glanced at :--

"Wire by return naine of war-tired captain or
subaltern, if any, available for temporary duty for
administration and training of R.A. malaria con-
valescents. Yery urgent."

28

XVII. WITH THE AMERICAIqS

SEPT. 27 : Our meetings with the Americans had so far
been pretty casual. We had seen parties of them in
June and July, training in the Contay area, north of
the Albert-Amiens road; and ont day during that period
I accompanied out colonel and the colonel of out com-
panion brigade on a motor trip to the coast, and we
passed some thousands of them hard at work getting fit,
and training with almost fervid enthusiasm. It used to
be a joke of mine that ou one occasion my horse shied
because an Australian private saluted me. :No one
could make a friendly jest of like kind against the
American soldiers. When first they arrived in France
no troops were more punctilious in practising the out-
ward and visible evidences of discipline. Fit, with the
perfect fitness of the man from 23 to 28, not a weed
amongst them, intelligent-looking, splendidly eager fo
learn, they were much akin in physique and general qua-
lities to our own immortal "First ]-Iundred Thousand."
I came across colonels and majors of the :New York and
Illinois Divisions getting experience in the line with out
brigadiers and colonels. I have seen U.S. Army :N.C.O.'s
out in the field receiving instruction from picked :N.C.O.'s
of out army in the art of shouting orders. Their oflicers
and men undertook this training with a certain shy
solemnity that I myself thought very attractive. I am

284 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

doing no lip-service to a ,, wish is father to the thought"
sentiment when I say that a manly modesty in respect
to military achievements characterised all the fighting
American soldiers that I met.
They were hot long in tumbling into the humours of
life at the front. I remember an episode told with much
enjoyment by a major of the regular U.S. Army, wh5
sl)ent a liaison fortnight wih our Division.
There is a word that appears at least once a day on
o,'ders sent out from the "Q" or administrative branch
of the British Army. It is the word "l%turn ": "Re-
turn of Personnel," "Casualty leturns," "Ammunition
leturns," &c., all to do with the compilation of reports.
The American Division to which the major belonged had
been included among the units of a British Corps. When,
in course of time, the Division was transferred elsewhere
Corps Q branch wired, "leturn wanted of all tents and
trench shelters in your possession." hYext day the
American Division received a second message: "Re my
0546/8023, hasten return of tents and trench shelters."
The day following the Corps people were startled by
the steady arrival of scores of tents and trench shelters.-
The wires hummed furiously, and the Corps staff captain
shouted his hardest, explaining over a long-distance tele-
phone that "Hasten return" did not mean " Send back
as quickly as possible."
"And we thought we had got a proper move on send-
ing back those tents," concluded the Americn major
who told me the story.
And now we were in action with these virile ardent
fellows. Two of their Divisions took part in the great
battle which at 5.30 A.M. opened on a 35-toile front--ten
days of bloody victorious fighting, by which three armies
shattered the last and strongest of the enemy's fully-

WITH THE AMERICANS 285

prepared positions, and struck a vital blow af his main
communications.
The first news on Sept. 27th was of the best. On
our part of the front the Americans had swept forward,
seized the two ruined farms that were their earliest
objectives, and surged to the top of a knoll that had
formed a superb point of vantage for the Boche ob-
servers. By 7.30 A.M. the Brigade was told to warn
F.O.O.'s that our bombers would throw red flares outside
the trenches along which they were advancing to indieate
their position.
But again there was to be no walk-over. The Boehe
counter-attack was delivered on the Americans' left
flank. We were ordered to tire a two-hours' bombard-
ment upon certain points towards whieh the enemy was
pouring his troops; and the colonel told me to instruet
our two F.O.O.'s to keep a prtieular look-out for hostile
movement.
By 11 A.M. Division issued instructions for ai1 gun
dmnps to be ruade up that night to 500 rounds per
gun. "Stiff fighting ahead," eommented the colonel.
At three o'clock Dulnble, who was commanding A
Battery, Major Bullivant having gone on leave, reported
that the Americans were withdrawing from the knoll to
trenches four hundred yards in rear, where they were
reorganising their position.
That settled the fighting for the day, although there
was speedy indication of the Boche's continued liveli-
ness- a plane came over, and by a daring manœuvre set
tire to three of our "sausage" balloons, the observers
having to tumble out with their parachutes. Ail this
rime I had remained glued to the telephone for the
receipt of news and the passing of orders. There was
opportunity now to give thought to the fortifying of

286 PUSHED, AND THE RETURI PUSH

our headquarters, ttubbard, who prided himself on his
biceps, had engaged in a brisk discussion with the officers
of a near-by Artillery brigade headquarters regarding
the dug-out that he and myself and "Ernest" had
occupied the night before. Originally it had been
arranged that we should share quarters with them, dug-
ours in a neighbouring bank having been allotted for
their overflow of signallers. But at the last moment
an Infantry brigade headquarters had "commandeered "
part of their accommodation, and they gave up the dug-
out that Hubbard and I had slept in, with the intimation
that they would want it on the morrow. As Hubbard
had discovered that they were in possession of four good
dug-outs on the opposite side of the road, he said we
ought to be allowed to retain our solitary one. But
no! they stuck to their rights, and during the morning's
battle a stream of protesting otficers came to interview
Hubbard. Their orderly otficer was suave but anxious;
their signalling olïicer admitted the previous arrange-
ment to share quarters; Hubbard remained firm, and
said that if the Infantry brigade had upset their arrange-
ments, they themselves had upset ours. I was too busy
to enter at length into the argument, but I agreed to
send a waggon and horses to fetch material if they chose
to build a new place. When their adjutant came over
and began to use sarcasm, I referred the matter to our
colonel, who decided, "Their Division has sent us here.
The dug-out is in our area. There is no other accom-
modation. We shall keep it."
"Will you come over and see our colonel, sir ?" asked
the adjutant persuasively.
"Certainly not," replied the colonel with some
asperity.
The next arrivals were a gas officer and a tall ebul-

WITtt THE AMERICANS 287

lient Irish doctor, who said that the dug-out had been
prepared for them. Hubbard conveyed our colonel's
decision, and ten minutes later his servant brought
news tlat the doctor's servant had been into the dug-
out and replaced our kit by the doctor's.
Hubbard, smiling happily, slipped out of our gun-pit
mess, and the next item of news from this bit of front
informed me that our valises had been replaced and the
doctor's kit put outside. Hubbard told me he had in-
formed the doctor and the gas officer that, our colonel
having made his decision, he was prepared to repeat the
performance every time they invaded the dug-out. "And
I was ready to throw them after their kit if necessary,"
he addcd, expanding his chest.
The upshot of it all was that our horses fetched fresh
material, and we helped to find the doctor and the gas
officer a home.
The battle continued next day, our infantry nibbling
their way into the Boche defences and allowing him no
rest. The artillery work was not so strenuous as on the
previous day, and Hubbard and I decided to dig a dug-
out for the colonel. It was bonny exercise for me. "I
think every adjutant ought to have a pit to dig
adjutants get too little exercise," I told the colonel.
After which Hubbard, crouching with his pick, offered
practical tuition in the science of underpinning. We
sweated hard and enjoyed our lunch. Judd and young
Beale reported back from leave, and Beale caused a
sensation by confessing that he had got married. A
Corps wire informed every unit that Lance-Corporal
Kleinberg-Hermann, "5 ft. 8, fair hair, eyes blue, scar
above nose, one flse tooth n front, dressed German
uniform," and Meyer Hans, " 6 ft., fait hair, brown eyes,
thin face, wears glasses, speaks English and French

288 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

fluently, dressed German uniform," had escaped from a
prisoners of war camp. The mail brought a letter
from which the colonel learnt that a long-rime friend,
a lieut.-colonel in the Garrison Artillery, had been killed.
]te had lunched with us one day in June, a briht-eyed,
grizzled veteran, with a whimsical humour. India had
ruade him look older than his years. "They found his
body in No Man's Land," said the colonel softly. "They
couldn't get toit for two days."
A half-past nine that night we learned that our own
Divisional infantry were coming up in front of us again.
There was to be another big attack, to complete the work
begun by the Americans, and at zero hour we should
pass under the command of our Divisional artillery. At
four in the morning the telephone near my pillow woke
me up, and Major Bartlett reported that the Boche had
started a barrage. "I don't think he suspects anything,"
said the major. "It's only ordinary counter-preparation."
In any case it didn't affect our attack, which started
with splendid zest. The Boche plunked a few gas
shells near us; but by 9.15 the brigade-major told me
that the Americans and our own infantry had advanced
a thousand yards and were on their first objective. " I
smell victory to-day," said the colonel, looking at his
map. By half-past ten Major Bartlett's battery had
moved forward two thousand yards, and the major had
joined a battalion commander so as to keep pace with
the onward rush of the infantry.
Good news tumbled in. At 10.5 0 the intelligence
otficer of our companion Artillery brigade rang up to
tell me that their liaison officer had seen our troops
entering the southern end of a well-known village that
lay along the canal.
"ling up A and Bat once," interjected the colonel,

WITH THE AIIERICAbIS

"and tell them to stop their bursts of tire, otherwise
they will be firing on our own people. Tell our liaison
officer with the --th Infantry Brigade that we are no
longer firing on the village. . . And increase the how.
battery's range by 1000 yards."
Five minutes later the brigade-major let us know that
the Corps on our left had cleared a vastly important
ridge, but their most northerly Division was held up by
machine-gun tire. When the situation was eased they
would advance upon the canal. Our D Battery was now
firing at maximum range, and at 11.20 the colonel
ordered them to move up alongside C.
The exhilarating swiftness of the success infected
every one. Drysdale rang up to know whether we hadn't
ny fresh targets for D Bttery. "I'm sure we've
cleared out every Boche in the quarry you gave us," he
said. The staff captain told us he was bringing forward
his ammunition dumps. The old wheeler was observed
to smile. Even the telephone seemed to be working
better than for months past. In restraint of over-
eagerness, complaints of short shooting filtered in from
the infantry, but I established the fact that our batteries
were hot the sinners.
By tea-time all the batteries had advanced, and the
colonel, "Ernest," and myself were walking at the head
of the headquarters waggon and mess carts through a
village that a fortnight before had been a hotbed of
Germany's hardest fighting infantry.
The longer the time spent in the fighting area, the
stronger that secret spasm of apprehension when a shift
forward to new positions had to be ruade. The ordinary
honest-souled member of His Majesty's forces will admit
that to be a true saying. The average healthy-minded
recruit coming to the Western Front since July 1916
T

290 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

marvelled for his first six months on the thousands of
hostile shells that he saw hitting nothing in particular,
and maiming and killing nobody. If he survived a
couple of years he lost all curiosity about shells that did
no harm; he had learned that in the forward areas there
was never real safety, the fatal shell might corne at the
most unexpected monent, in the most unlooked-for spot:
it might be one solitary missile of death, it might ac-
company a hideous drove that beat down the earth all
around, and drenched a whole area with sickening scorch-
ing ruines; he might not show it, but he had learned
to fear.
But on this move-up we were agog with the day's fine
news. We were in the mood to calculate on the extent
of the enemy's retirement: for the moment his long-
range guns had ceased to tire. We talked seriously of
the war ending by Christmas. We laughed when I
opened the firs Divisional message delivered at out new
tIeadquarters: "Divisional Cinema will open at Liera-
mont to-morrow. Performances twice daily, 3 '.M. and
6 '.M." "That looks as if our infantry are moving out,"
I said.
We had taken over a bank and some shallow, aged
dug-outs, occupied the night before bY our C ]attery;
and as there was a chill in the air that foretold rain,
and banks of sombre clouds were lining up in the
western sky, we unloaded our carts and set to work
gettin our belongings under cover while it was still
ligb, t. " There's no pit for you to dig in," the colonel
told me quizzingly, "but you can occupy yourself filling
these ammunition boxes with earth; they'll make walls
for the mess." tIubbard had been looking for°something
heavy to carry; he brought an enormous beam from
the broad-gauge railway that lay a hundred yards west

WITH THE AMERICANS 29]

of us. The colonel immediately claimed it for the mess
roof. "We'll fix it centre-wise on the ammunition
boxes to support the tarpaulin," he decided. « Old Fritz
has done his dirtiest along the railway," said Hubbard
cheerfully. « He's taken a big out of every rail; and
he's blown a mine a quarter of a toile down there that's
giving the sappers something to think about. They
told me they want to have trains running in two days.
Meanwhile the signallers had been cleaning out tbe
deep shaft they were to work in; the cooks and the
clerks had selected their own rabbit-hutches; and I had
picked a semi-detached dug-out in which were wire beds
for the colonel, Hubbard, and myself. True, a shell had
ruade a hole in one corner of the iron roof, and the place
was of such antiquity that rats could be heard squeaking
in the vicinity of my bed-head, but I hoped that a map-
board fixed behind my pillow would protect me from
unpleasantness.
The colonel was suspicious of the S.O.S. line issued
to us by Division that night. The ordinary rules of
gunnery provide that the angle of sight to be put on
the guns can be calculated from the difference between
the height of the ground on which the battery stands
and the height at the target. More often than not
ridges intervene between the gun and the target, and
the height and position of these ridges sometimes cause
complications in the reckoning of the angle of sight,
particularly if a high ridge is situated close to the
object to be shot at. Without going into full ex-
planation, I hope I may be understood when ] say
that the correct angle of sight, calculated from the
map difference in height between hattery and target,
occasionally fails to ensure that the curve described
by the shell in its fiight will finish sufficiently high

292 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

in the air for the shell to clear the final crest. When
that happens shells fall on the wrong side of the ridge,
and our own infantry are endangered. Itis a point to
which brigade-majors and brigade commander natur-
ally give close attention.
The colonel looked at his map, shook his head, said,
" I don't like that ridge," and got out his ruler and ruade
calculations. Then he talked over the telephone to the
brigade-major. "Yes, I know that theoretically, by every
ordinary test, we should be safe in shooting there, and l
knov what you want to shoot at .... But there's a risk,
and I should prefer tobe on the sale side .... , Will you
speak to the General about it ?"
The colonel gained his point, and at 10.20 l., issued
a furtber order to the batteries :--

"I)revious S.O.S. line is cancelled, as it is found
that the hillside is so steep that our troops in
Tino Support Trench may be hit.
"Complaints of short shooting have been frequent
all day. Henceforth S.O.S. will be as follows .... "

"l'll write out those recommendations for honours
and awards before turning in," he said, a quarter of an
hour later, searching through the box in which confi-
dential papers were kept. "Now, what was it I wanted
to know ?--oh, I remember. Ring up Drysdale, and ask
him whether the corporal he put in is named Marchman
or Marshman. I-Ils writing is not very clear .... If he's
gone to bed, say I'm sorry to disturb him, but these things
want to be got in as soon as possible."
It was a quiet night as far as shell-fire was concerned,
but a furious rain-storm permitted us very little sleep,
and played havoc wih the mess. Our documents re-
mained safe, though most of them were saturated with

WITH THE AMERICANS 293

water. In the morning it mas cold enough to make one
rub one's hands and stamp the feet. There was plenty
of exercise awaiting us in the enlarging and rebuilding
of the mess. Y¢e ruade it a very secure aflkir this rime.
"What about a tire, sir ? " inquired ttubbard.
"Good idea," said the colonel. I-le and t]ubbard used
pick and shovel to fashion a vertical, triangular niche in
the side of the bank. The stafl-sergeant titrer returned
with a ten-foot store-pipe that he had found in the
neighl,ouring village; and lJefore ten o'clock out first
mess tire since the end of April was crackling merrily
and burning up spare ammmition boxes.
The colonel went off to tour the batteries, saying,
"I'll leave you to fight the battle." The brigade-
major's first telephone talk at 10.:5 ,». left no doubt
that we were pushing home all the advantages gained
the day before. "I want one good bur.t on-
Trench," he said. " After that cease firing this side
of th¢ canal until I tell you to go on." The news an
hour later was that our Divisional Infantry patrols were
working methodically through Vendhuile, the village on
the canal bank, which the Americans had entered the
day before. Next " tuller," who was with the Infantry
brigade, called up, and said that the mopping-up in
the village had been most successful: out fellows were
thrusting for the canal bridge, and had yet to encounter
any large enemy forces. At twenty to one the brigade-
major told me that our people were moving steadily to
the other side of the canal. " We're properly over the
ttindenburg Line this rime," he wound up.
The Brigadier-General C.R.A. came to see us during
the afternoon, and we learned for the first rime that on
the previous day the Americans had ïought their way
right through Vendhuile, but, on account of their

294 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

impetuosity, had lost touch with their supports. "They
fought magnificently, but didn't mop-up as they went
atone, explained the General. The Boche tried the
trick he used to play on us. tIe hid until the first
wave had gone by, and then came up with his machine-
guns and fired into their backs.. . It's a great pity.
• I'm afraid that six hundred of them who crossed
the canal have been wiped out."
" I hear that our infantry go out for a proper rest as
sooa as this is over," he added. "They brought them up
again to conplete the smashing of the Hindenburg Line,
because they didn't want to draw upon the three .bso-
lutely fresh Divisions they were keeping to chase the
Hun immcdiately he yielded the Hindenburg Line. Our
infantry must bave fought themselves to a standstill
these last three weeks." *
"Any news about us ?" incluired the colonel.
":No; I'm afraid the gunners will bave to carry on as
usual. . . The horses seem to be surviving the ordeal
very well.. ."
At 4.2 5 P.M.-- I particularly remember noting the
time--we were told by Division that Bu]garia's sur-
render was unconditional. "That will be cheering news
for the batteries," observed the colonel. " I'd send that
out." The brigade-major also informed us that British
cavalry were reported tobe at Roulers, north-east of
Ypresbut that wasn't official. "Anyhow," said the
colonel, his face glowing, "it shows the right spirit.
Yes, I think the war will be over by Christmas after
ail."
" It would be great to be home by Christmas, sir,"
put in tIubbard.
" Yes," responded the colonel in the same vein, " but
it wouldn't be so bad evenout here .... I doa't think

WITH TttE AMERICAbS 295

any of us would really mind staying another six months
if we had no 5"9's to worry us." And he settled down
to writing his daily letter home.
October came in with every one joyously expectant.
The enemy still struggled to hold the most valuable high
ground on the far side of the canal, but there was little
doubt that he purposed a monster withdrawal--and our
batteries did their best to quicken his decision. The
brigade-major departed for a Senior Staff Course in
England, and Major "Pat" of our sister brigade, a highly
efiïciet and extremely popular ogScer, who, with no pre-
vious knowledge of soldiering, had won deserved distinc-
tion, tilled his place. Major " Pat" was a disciple of
cheering news for the batteries. "This has just corne in
by the wireless," he telephoned to me on October 2nd.
"Turkey surrendered--British ships suiling through the
Dardanelles--Lille being evacuated--British bluejackets
landed at Ostend."
" Is that official ?" I asked wonderingly.
He laughed. "bo, I didn't say that. . . It's a wire-
less report."
"Not waggon line ?" I went on.
He laughed again. " bo, l'll let you know when it
becomes official."
Formal intimation was to hand that Durable, Judd,
Bob Pottinger, young Beale, Stenson, and Tincler had
been awarded the Military Cross, and Major Veasey the
D.S.O. Drysdale was happy because, after many times
of asking, he had got back from headquarters, Patrick,
the black charger that he had ridden early in 1 916.
The tide of success rolled on. A swift little attack
on the morning of October 3rd took the infantry we
were, supporting, now that our own battalions had with-
drawa for a fortnght's rest, on to valuable high ground

296 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSI-I

east of the canal. "They met with such little opposi-
tion that our barrage became merely an escort," was the
way in which Beadle, who was doing F.O.O., described
the adwmce. Surrendering Germans poured back in such
numbers that dozens of them walke, l unattended to the
prisoners of war cages. "I saw one lot corne d(wn," a
I).A.C. oflïcer told ne. "A]l that the sentry had to do
was to point to the cage with a 'This-way-in' gesture,
and in they marche&"
One wee cloud blurred the high-spirited light-hearted-
ness of those days. We lost "Ernest," who had marehed
forward with us and been our pet sinee Sept. 6th. The
colonel and Hubbard took him up the line; the little
fellow didn't seem anxious to leave me that morning,
but I thought that a run would do him good, and he
had followed the colonel a couple of days belote. " I'm
sorry, but we've lost ' Ernest,'" was the eolonel's bluntly
told news when he returned. " He disappeared when
I was calling on B Battery.. . They said he went
over the bill with an infantry offieer, who had ruade
mueh of him.. . It's eurious, beeause he stuck to
us when I went to see the infantry at Brigade Head-
quarters, although every one in their ver}' long dug-out
fussed over him."
There was poor chance of the dog finding his way back
to us in that country of many traeks, amid the eoming
to and fro of thousands of all kinds of troops. We never
saw or heard of him again. The loss of him dispirited
all of us a bit; and I suppose I felt it more than most-
he had been a splendid little companion for nearly a
month.
The adjutant and WiIde returned from leaye on
Oct. 3rd, full of the bright times to be spent in London.
"People in England think the war's all over. They

WITH THE AMERICANS 297

don't realise that pursuing the Boche lneans fighting him
as well," burst forth the adjurant. " i-ly Gad," he went
on, " we had a narrow escape the day we weut on leave.
I never saw anyt.hing like it. in my lire. ¥ou remelnber
Oe factory at M,,islains, near tle place where we were
out f,,r three or four (lays at le begiuuing of last m()nth.
Well, Wilde and I caught a leave bus that went that
way on tle road to Amiens. The l,us had to pull up
about rive hundred yards short of the factory, because
there was a lot of infatry in front of us... And just
at that moment a Ioche mine blew up.. . Made an
awful mess... About eleven men killed. . We
had taken the place tl,ree weeks before, and the mine
had remained undiscovered all that rime... We must
all of us have passed over that sl,ot raany rimes. ¥ou
remember they ruade a Red Cross Station of the factory.
• . . A most extraordinary thing!"
The Boche tire had died away ahnost entirely ; if was
manifest that the Brigade would have to move forward.
I could go on leave now that the adjurant was back
Beadle and myself were the only two officers in the
Brigade who had gone through the March retreat and
hot yet been on leave to England; but I was keen on
another trip forward with the colonel, and on the morn-
ing of the 4th Wilde and I joined him on a prospecting
ride, looking for new positions for the batteries.
It was a journey that quickened all one's powers of
observation. We went forward a full rive mlles, over
yellow churned wastes that four days before had been
crowded battlefields; past shell-pocked stretches that
had been ruade so by out own guns. A first we trotted
along a straight road that a short rime belote had been
seamed with Boche trenches and barbed wire. The
¢olonel's mare was fresh and ready to hy at heaps of

298 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH"

stones and puddles. " She's got plenty of spirit still,"
said the colonel, " but she's not the mare she was before
the hit in the neck at Commenchon. However, I know
her limitations, and she's all right providing I spare her
going uphiil."
Just outside the hal[-mile long village of Ronssoy he
pointed to a clump of broken bricks and shattered beams.
"That's the farm that D Battery insisted was Gillemont
Farm, when we were at Cliffe Post on September 19,"
he explained. " The day I was with him at the ' O.P.,'
Wood couldn't understand why he was unable to see his
shells fall. He telephoned to the battery to check the
range they were firing at, and then decided that the nap
was wrong. When I told him to examine his map more
closely he spotted the 140 contour between this place
and Gillemont Farm. It made Gillelnont Farm invisible
from the 'O.P.' Of course Gillemont Farm is 2000
yards beyond this place."
We reached a battered cross-roads 1200 yards due
south of Duncan Post, that cockpit of the bitter hand-
to-hand fighting of Sept. 19th and 20th. A couple of
9.'
captured Boche 4"- s--the dreaded high-velocity gunw
stood tucked behind a low grassless bank, their curved,
muddy, camouflaged shields blending with the brown
desolation of the landscape. Two American soldiers
saluted the colonel gravelymlean, tanned, straight-eyed
young fellows. For the first time I noticed that the
Americans were wearing puttees like our men, instead of
the canvas gaiters which they sported when first in
France. Their tin hats and box-respirators have always
been the saine make as ours.
The colonel stopped to look at his map. "We'll turn
north-east here and cross the canal at ]ony," he said.
We rode round newly-dug shell-slits, and through gaps

WITH THE AMERICANS 299

in the tangled, rusted barbed wire; at one spot we
passed eighteen American dead, laid out in two neat
rows, ready for removal to the cemetery that the U.S.
Army had established in the neighbourhood; we went
within twenty yards of a disabled tank that a land mine
had rendered hors de cobat; we came across another
tank lumbered half-way across a road. "Tanks always
seem to take it into their heads to collapse on a main
road and interrupt traffic," muttered the colonel
sardonically.
There were twelve hundred yards of a straight
sunken road for us to ride through before we reached
Bony. That road was a veritable gallery of Germau
dead. They lay in twos and threes, in queer horrible
postures, along its whole unkempt length, some of them
with blackened decomposed faces and hands, most of
them newly killed, for this was a road that connected
the outer defences of the Hindenburg Line with the
network of wire and trenches that formed the l:[in-
denburg Line itself. "Best sight l've seen since the
war," said Wilde with satisfaction. And if the colonel
and myself ruade no remark we showed no disagreement.
Pity for dead Boche finds no place in the average
decent-minded man's composition. Half a dozen of out
armoured cars, wheels off, half-burned, or their steering
apparatus smashed, lay on the entrenched and wired
outskirts of Bony, part of the Hindenburg Line proper.
In the village itself we found Red Cross cars filling
up with wounded; Boche prisoners were being used as
sretcher-bearers; groups of waiting infantry stood in
the main street; runners flitted to and fro.
"We'll leave our horses here," said the colonel; and
the grooms guided them to the shelter of a high solid
wall. The colonel, Wildi, and I ascended the main street,

300 IUSHED, A:ND THE RETURN IUSH

making eastward. A couple of 5"9's dropped close to the
norhern edge of the vill,ge as we came out of it. We
met a party of prisoners headed by two oflïcers--one
short, fat, nervous, dark, bespectacle ; the other bearded,
lanky, nonchalant, and of good carriage tte carried a
g,,h|-nobbed Malacca cane. :Neither officer looked at us
as we passed. The tall one reminded me of an officer
among the first party of I',oche pris«,ners I saw in France
in Agust 1916. His arrogant, disdainful air had
roused in me a gust of anger that ruade me glad I was
in the wtr.
We went through a garden transformed into a dust-
bin, and dipl,ed down a hummocky sloie tlat rose again
fo a chalky ridge. Shells were screaming overhead in
quick succession now, and we walked fast, making for a
white boulder that looked as if it would offer shielded
observation and protection. We round ourselves near
the top of one of the giant air-shafts that connected with
the canal tunnel. Tufts of smoke spouted up at regular
intervals on the steep slope behind the village below us.
"We're in time to see a barrage," remarked the colonel,
pulling out his binoculars. "Our people are trying to
secure the heights. I didn't know that Gouy was quite
clear of Boche. There was flghting there yesterday."
"There are some Boche in a trench near that farm on
the left," he added a minute later, after sweeping the
hills opposite with his glasses. " Can you see them ?"
I ruade out what did appear to be three grey tin-
helmeted figures, but I could see nothing of our infantry.
The shelling went on, but time pressed, and the colonel,
packing up his glasses, led us eastwards again, down to a
light-railway junction, and through a quaint little ravine
lined with willow-trees. Many German dead lay here.
One young oldier, who had died with his head thrown

WITH THE AMERICAIqS 301

back resting against  green bank, his blue eyes
open te the sky, wore a strangely perfect expression of
peace and rest. Up another ascending sunken road.
The Boche guns seemed te have switched, and hall a
dozen shells skimmed the top of the road, causing us te
wait. We looked again at the fight being waged on the
slopes behind the village. Our barrage had lifted, but
we saw no sign of advancing infantry.
The colonel turned te me suddenly and said, " l'm
going te select positions about a thousand yards south of
where we are af this moment--along the valley. Wilde
will corne with me. You go back and pick up the
horses, and meet us af Qtennemont Farm. I expect we
shall be there almost as soon as you."
I followed the direct road te return te Bony. A
few shells dropped on either side of the road, which was
obviously a hunting-ground for the Boche gunners. At
least a dozen British dead lay at intervals huddled
against the sides of the road. One of them looked te
be an artillery officer, judged by his field-boots and
spurs. But the top part of him was covered by a rain-
proof coat, and I saw no cap.
Quennemont Farm was a farm only in naine. There
was no wall more than three feet high left standing ; the
wh01e place was shapeless, stark, blased into nothing-
ness. In the very centre of the mournful chaos lay
three disembowelled horses and an overturned Boche
ammunition waggon. The shells were still on the shelves.
They were Yellow Cross, the deadliest of the ]3oche
mustard-gas shell.
I went on leave next morning, and got a motor-car
lift frein Peronne as far as Amiens. ]3efore reaching
Villers-Bretonneux, of glorious, fearful memories, we
passent through Warfusee-Abancourt, a shell of its former

02 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUStt

self, a brick heap, a monument of devastation. An aged
man and a slim white-faced girl were standing by the
farm cart that had brought them there, the first civilians
I had seen since August. The place was deserted save
for them. In sad bereavement they looked at the cruel
desolation around them.
" My God," said my companion, interpreting my in-
most thought, "what a home-coming!"

.3O3

XVIII. A LAST DAY AT THE O.P.

WHEN, on October 21, I returned to France, the war had
ruade a very big stride towards its end. Cambrai
had been regained, and Le Cateau--" Lee Katoo," the
men insisted on calling it--taken. Ostend was
ours, Lille was ours; over Palestine we had cast our
mantle. Out own Division, still hard at it, had gone
forward twenty-four toiles during my fortnight's leave in
England. Stories of their doings trickled towards me
when I broke the journey at Amiens on my way back to
the lines. I met an Infantry captain bound for Eng-
land.
" It's been ail open fighting this last fortnight--
cavalry, and forced marches, and ail that--and I don't
want to hear any more talk of the new Armies not
being able to carry out a war of movement," he said
chirpily. " The men have been magnificent. The old
Boche is done now; but we're making no mistakes--
we're after him ail the while.
"Data funny, you know, some of the things that are
happening up there. The Boche has left a lot of coal
dumps behind, and every one's after il. There's a 2000-
ton pile at Le Cateau, and it was disappearing so rapidly
that they put a guard on it. I was walking with my
colonel the other day, and we came across an Australian
shovelling coal from this dump into a G.S. waggon.

804 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

A sentry, with fixed bayonet, was marching up an
down.
"The colonel stopped when we came to the sentry,
and asked him what he was supposed to be doing.
"'Guarding the coal dump, sir.'
"'But what is this Australian doing ? Has he any
authority to draw coal? Did he show you a chit?'
"'No, sir,' rep]ied the sentry. ' I thought, as he had
a Government waggon, it would be all right.'
"' Upon my Sam !' said the colonel, astonished. Then
he tackled the Australian.
"'What authority have you for taking away this
coal ?' he asked.
"The Australian stood up and said, 'I don't want any
authority--I bally well fought for it,' and went on with
his shovelling.
"Fraukly, the colonel didn't know what to say; but
he has a sense of humour. 'Extraordinary fellows!'
he said to me as we walked off.
"Then we came across an American who was
'scrounging' or something in an empty house. He
jumped to attention when he saw the colonel, and
saluted very smartly. But what do you think? tte
saluted with a bowler hat on,--found it in the house, I
expect .... I tell you, it was an eye-opening day
for the colonel."
I lorry-hopped to the village that I had been told
was Divisional Headquarters; but they had moved the
day before, seven toiles farther forward. There were
nearly 200 civilians here. I saw a few faded, ancient
men in worn corduroys and blue-peaked caps; a bent old
crone, in a blue apron, hobbled with a water-bucket
past a corner shop--a gr0cer's--shuttered, sluttish from
want of paint; three tiny children, standing in doorways,

A LAST DAY AT THE O.P. $0

wore a strangely old expression. There was a pathetic-
ally furtive air about all these people. For four years
they had been nnder the Boche. Of actual, death-
bringing, frightenig war they had seen not more than
rive days. The battle had swept over and beyond them,
carryiig with it the feared and hated German, and the
main fighting force of the pursuing British as well. But
it was too soou yet for them to forget, or to throw off a
sort of lurking dread that even now the Boche might
return.
I got a lift in another lorry along a road crumbling
under the unusual amount of trafiic that weighed upon it.
Our advance had been so swift that the war scars on
the countryside had not entirely blighted its normal
characteristics. Here were shell-holes, but no long
succession of abandoned gun-positions, few horse-tracks,
fewer trenches, and no barbed wire. The villages we
went through had escaped obliterating shell tire. I
learned that our attacks had been planned thus-wise.
Near a bleak cross-roads I saw Collinge of B Battery,
and got off the lorry to talk to him.
" Brigade Headquarters are at Bousies, about six mlles
from here," he said. " I'm going that way. The bat-
teries a.re all in Bousies."
"What sort of a time have you had ?" I inquired.
" Oh, most exciting ! Shan't forget the day we crossed
the Le Cateau river. We were the advance Brigade.
The Engineers were supposed to put bridges across for
us; the material came up all right, but the pioneers
who were to do the work missed the way. The sapper
otiicer who had brought the material wanted to wait
till the proper people srrived, but the Boche was
shelling and machine-gunning like mad, and the colonel
said that bridge-building must be got on with at once.
U

06 PUSttED, AND THE RETURN PUStt

The colonel was great that day. Old Johns of D Battery
kept buzzing along with suggestions, but the colonel put
his foot down, and said, 'It's the sapper ofiïcer's work;
let him do it.' And the bridges were really well put up.
All the guns got across safely, although C Battery had a
team knocked out."
I walked by Collinge's side through a village of
sloping roofs, single-storied red-brick houses, and rnud-
clogged streets. It was the village which our two
brigades of artillery occupied when the Armistice was
signed, where the King came to sec us, and M. le Maire,
in his excitement, gave His Majesty that typically
French, shall I say ? clasp of intirnacy and brotherliness,
a lef-handed handshake.
"Curious thing happened on that rise," rernarked
Collinge when we were in open country again. "The
colonel and the adjutant were with an infantry General
and his Staff ofiïcers, reconnoitring. The General had
a little bitch sornething like a whippet. She downed
a hare, and though it brought thern into view of the
Boche, the General, the colonel, and the others chased
after them like mad. I believe the colonel won the
race--but the adjutant will tell you all about it."
Away on the left a lone tree acted as a landmark for
a sunken road. "Brigade tried to make a headquarters
there," went on Collinge, "but a signaller got knocked
out, and the Boche began using the tree as a daturn
point; so the colonel ordered a shift." Twenty rough
wooden crosses rose mournful and rernote in a wide,
rnois mangel-field. "The cavalry got it badly there,"
said Collinge. "A 4"2 gun turned on thern frorn close
range, and did frightful execution." We were near to
a cross-road, rnarked balefully by a two-storied house, cut
in hlf so that the interior was opened to view like a

A LAST DAY AT THE O.P. 07

doll's house, and by other shell-mauled buildings. "The
batteries came into action under that bank," he con-
tinued, pointing .his cane towards a valley riddled with
shell-holes. "That's where Durable did so well. Came
along with the cavalry an hour and a half before any
Horse Artillery battery, and brought his guns up in
line, like F.A.T. . . See that cemetery on the top of the
hill ? . . . the Boche ruade it in August 1914 ; lot of the
old Army buried there, and it's been jolly well looked
after. The colonel walked round and looked at every
grave one day; he sid he'd never seen a better cared-
for cemetery. . We had an ' O.P.' there for the
Richemont River fight. The Boche shelled it like blazes
some days. . And we saw great sights up that
pavé road there, over the dip. They held a big con-
ference there; 11 sorts of Generals turned up.. .
Staff cars that looked like offices, with the maps and
operation orders pinned up inside; and when our bat-
tery went by, the road was so packed with traiïic that
infantry were marching along in fours on either side of
the road."
We reached the outskirts of Le Cateau, descending a
steep lavé road. "They shelled this place like stink
yesterday," Collinge told me. "Headquarters were in
one of those little houses on the left for one night,
and their waggon line is there now, so you'll be able
to get a horse. . I heard that Major Bartlett had
both his chargeri killed yesterday when C Battery
came thrcugh. Isn't that one of them, that black
horse lying under the trees ?"
I looked and saw many horses lying dead on both
sides of the road, and thought little of i{. That was
war. Then all my senses were strung up to attention :
a small bay horse lay stretched out on the pathway, his

808 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSII

head near tlle kerb. There was a shapeliness of the
legs and a fineness of the mud-checkered coat that
seemed familiar. I stepped over to look. Yes, if
was my own horse "Tommy," that old Castle, our
ex-adjurant, had given me--old Castle's "handy little
horse." A gaping hole in the head told all that
needed to be told. I found " Swiffy" and the doctor
in the workman's cottage that had become Brigade
waggon-line headquarters. Yes, "Tommy" had been
killed the day before. My groom, Morgan, was riding
him. The Boche were sending over shrapncl, high
in the air, and one bullet had round its billet. Poor
little horse! Spirited, but easy to handle, always in
condition, always well- mannered. Ah, well! we had
had many good days together. Poor little horse!
I want always to remember Bousies, the village of
gardens and hedgerows and autumn tints where we saw
the war out, and lay under shell tire for the last rime;
whence we fought our final battle on /qovember 4th,
when young Hearn of A Battery was killed by machine-
gun bullets at 7 0 yards' range, and Major Bullivant, with
a smashed arm and a crippled thigh, huddled under a
wall until Durable fouud him--the concluding fight that
brought me a strange war trophy in a golfing-iron round
in a hamlet that the Boche had sprawled upon for four
full years. And the naine punched on the iron was
that of an Oxford Street firm.
Collinge and I rode into Bousies in the wan light of
an October afternoon. At a cross-roads that the Boche
had blown up--"They didn't do it well enough; the
guns got round by that side track, and we were only
held up ten minutes," said Collinge--Brigade Head-
quarters' sign-board had been planted in a hedge. My

A LAST DAY AT THE O.P. 309

way lay up a slushy tree-bordered lane; Collinge bade
me good-bye, and rode on down he winding street.
There were the usual welcoming smiles. Manning gave
me a "Had a good leave, sir ?" in his deep-sea voice, and
ilde came out to show where my horse could be stabled.
" It's a top-hole farm, and after the next more we'll
brng Headcluarters waggon line up here .... The
colonel says you can bave his second charger now that
you've lost 'Tommy.' tIe's taking on liajor Yeasey'
mare, the one with the cold back that bucks a bit.
She's a nice creature if she's given plenty of work."
"tIow is the colonel ?" I asked.
" Oh, he's in great form; says the war may end any
minute. Major Simpson and Major Drysdale are both
away on leave, and the colonel's been up a good deal
seeing the batteries register.. We got a shock when
we came into this place yesterday. A 4"2 hit the men's
cook-house, that small building near the gate.. But
they haven't been troublesome since."
The end wall of the long-fronted narrow farmhouse
loomed up gauntly beside the pillared entrance to the
rectangular courtyard. A weather-vane in the form of
a tin trotting horse flaunted itself on the topmost point.
This end wall rose to such height because, though the
farmhouse was-onc-storied, its steep-sloping roof en-
closed an attic big enough to give sixty men sleeping
room. Just below the weather-vane was a hole poked
out by the Boche for observation purposes. Our adjutant
used to climb up to it twice daily as a sort of consitu-
tional. Some one had left in this perch a bound volume
of a Romanist weekly, with Mghly dramatic, fearfully
coloured illustrations. As the house contained some
twenty of these volumes, I presumed that they betrayed
the rcligious leaaings of the farm' absent owner. A

310 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

row of decently ventilated stables faced the farmhouse,
while at the end of the courtyard, o],posite to the
en t'ance gares, stood an enormous high-doored barn.
The entrance-hall of the house gave, on the left, to two
conectiag stone-fiagged rooms, one of whi h Manning
used as a kitchen--Meddings, our regtlar cook, was on
leae. The other room, with its couple of Slaciou
civilian beds, we used as a mess, and the colonel and the
adjutant slept there. The only wall decorations were
two "samplers" executed by a small daughter of the
house, a school certificate in a plain frame, and a couple
of gaudy-tinselled religious pictures. A pair of pot
dogs on the mantelpiece were as stupidly ugly as some
of out own mid-Victorian cottage treasures. And there
were the usual glass-covered orange blossoms mounted
on red plush and gilt leaves--the wedding custom tradi-
tional to the country districts of :Northern :France. The
inner door of this room opened directly into the stable
where out horses were stalled. An infantry colonel and
his staff occupied the one large and the two small rooms
to the right of the entrance-hall; but after dinner they
left us to go forward, and my servant put down a
mattress on the stone floor of one of the smaller rooms
for me to sleep upon. Wilde took possession of the
other little chambei. The large room, which contained
a colossal Çak wardrobe, became our mess after breakfast
next day. The signallers had fixed their telephone
exchange in the vaulted cellar beneath the house, and
the servants and grooms crowded there as well when the
Boche's night-shelling grew threatening.
After a long deprivation we had corne into a country
where cabbages and carrots, turnips and beetroot, were to
be had for the picking; and there were so many plates
and glasses to be borrowed from the farmhouse cap-

A LAST DAY AT THE 0.P. 811

boards that I feared greatly that Manning would feel
bound to rise to the unexampled occasion by exer-
cising his well-known gift for smashing crockery. We
dined pleasantly and vell that night; and when the
night-firing programme had been sent out to the batteries
--the Boche was in force in the big thick forest that
lay three thousand yards east of or farmmwe settled
down to a good hour's talk. Wilde told me of the
German sniper they had found shot just before the
advance to this village; the adjutant narrated the mag-
nificent gallantry of an officer who had relinquished his
job of :Reconnaissance officer to the C.:R.A. in order to
join a battery, and had now gone home with his third
wond since Zillebeke. "You remember how he came
back in rime for the August advance and got hit immedi-
ately and wouldn't let them send him back to England
--you know we loaned him to the rd Brigade because
they were short of officers. Well, he rolled up agaia
about ten days ago, and got hit again in the Le Cateau
attack. Major 'Pat' told me he was wonderful ....
Lay in a shell-hole with his leg smasbed they poured
blood out of his bootsand commanded his battery from
there, blowing his whistle and all tbat, until they mado
him let himself be taken away." The colonel, who
listened and a the saine time wrote letters, said that the
thing that pleased him most during the last few days
was the patriotic instinct of some cows. When the tIun
evacuated Le Cateau he took away with him all the able-
bodied Frenchmen and all the cows. But his retreat
became so ra.pid and so confused, that numbers of
the men escaped. So did the cows: for three daya
they were dribbling back fo their homesteads and
pasturages.
All through the night the enemy shelled Bousies.

812 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

fie planted only two near us, but a splinter ruade a
hole in the roof of the big barn and caught a mule on
the shoulder.
The doctor came up from the waggon line next
morning and accompanied me on a tour of the batteries.
"If you follow the yellow wire you'll come to B Battery,"
said Wilde. "They are in the corner of a meadow. A
:Battery are hot far away, across the stream." It was a
golden autumn day, and our fet rustled through the
fallen yellow leaves that carpeted a narrow lane bowered
by high, luxuriant, winding hedges. "Why, this place
must be a paradise in peace times," said the doctor,
entranced by the sweet tranquillity of the spot. " It's
like a lover's walk you see in pictures." We strode over
fallen trees and followed the telephone wire across a strip
of rich green. B Battery's guns were tucked beneah
some stubby full-leaved trees that would hide them from
the keenest-eyed aerial observer. "lo sick, doctor,"
called Bob Pottinger from underneath the trench-cover
roof of his three-foot hole in the ground. "We're
improving the position and bave no time to be ill."
The doctcr and I crossed a sticky water-]ogged field, and
passed over the plank-bridge that spanned the slow
vagrant stream. A battery had their mess in one of
the low creeper-clad cottages lining the road. Their
guns were thrust into the hedge that skirted the neat
garden at the back.
Major Bullivant gave me welcome, and read extracts
from Sir Douglas Haig's report on the Fifth Army
letreat--his ' Times' had just reached him. tte asked
the doctor whether it was too early for a whisky-and-
soda, and showed us a Boche barometer, his latest war
trophy. "We've lost quite a lot of men since you've
been away," he told me. "Do you realise the Brigade

A LAST DAY AT THE O.P. 313

has been only four days out of the line since Agust 1st ?
You've heard about young Beale being wounded, of
course ? I was on le,ve, and so was Beadle; and Tincler
was sick, so there was only Dumble and Beale running
the battery. Beale got hi when shiïting the waggon
line, . . . and it was rather fine of him. I-Ie knew old
I)umble was up to his eyes that day, and told the sergeant-
major hot to tell Dumble what had happened to him,
until the battle was over. I)id you hear, too, about
Manison, one of the new officers ? :Poor chap! Killed
by a bomb dropped in daylight by one of our own
aeroplanes as he as goin to the O.:P.
"The Boche hasn't done much night-bombing lately.
I don't think he's ot the 'planes. Ite gave us one
terrible niht, though, soon after we crossed the canal,
• . knocked out two of my guns and killed any
number of horses. There were ammunition dumps
oing up all over the place that night; . . he stopped
us from doing our niht firing.
"Have you heard the story of the old woman at
S.-- ?" he went on. "When the bombardment was
going on the civilians went down into the cellars. The
Germans hooked it, and the people came up from the
cellars. But Boche snipers were still in the village,
and out advance parties warned the inhabitants to keep
below. . When, however, our troops came along in a
body, one old woman rushed forward from under the
church wall, in the square, you know .... She was
excited, I expect. . A swine of a Boche in a house
on the far side of the square shot her. . Our
infantry surrounded that house."
"Well, I must quit," ejaculated the doctor suddenly.
We went out and ruade for the village road again. A
screaming swish, and a report that hurt the ears and

314 PUSHED, A:ND THE RETUR:N PUSH

shattered the windows in the front of the cottage. A
toche hih-velocity shell had crashed a few yards away
on the other side of the stream, and thrown up spouts of
black slimy mud. The doctor and I scurried back to
the shelter of the cotm:e wall. Another shell and
another. A lieutenant-colonel of Infantry, on horse-
back, swung violently round the corner and joined us.
Tlree more slmlls fell. Then silence. "These sudden
bursts of tire are very disconcertinu, aren't they?"
remarked the colonel as he mounted and rode away.
" Say, now!" said the doctor to me. "I think we'll
call back and bave that whisky-and-soda Major Bullivant
offered us before we resume out journey."
"We'll take a trip up to the 'O.P.' this morning,"
said the colonel to me ai breakfast on October 28th.
The wind was sufficiently drying to make walking
pleasant, and to tingle the cheeks. The sun was a
tonic; the turned-up earth smelt good. Our Head-
quarter horses had been put out to graze in the
orchard--a Ioche 4"2 had landed in it the night
before--and they were frolicking mightily, Wilde's
charger " Blackie" being especially industrious shooing
off one of the mules from the colonel's mare. There
was a swirling and a skelter of brown and yellow leaves
ai the gap in the lane where we struck across a vege-
table garden. A square patch torn from a bed-sheet
flew taut from the top of a clump of long hop-poles
--the sign, before the village was freed, to warn our
artillery observers that civilians lived in the cottage
close by. Similar, now out-of-date, white flags swung
to the breeze from many roof-tops in the village. "The
extraordinary feature," the colonel mentioned, "was the
number of Tricolours that the French had been able to
hide from the Germans; they put them out when we

A LAST. DAY AT THE O.P. 315

came through." He nodded a pleasant good-day to a
good looki»g young staff ofScer who sood on the steps
of the house in tle pavé-laid street where one of our
infautry brigades ilad ruade thir lleadquarters. The
staff otficer wore a pair of those full-below-the-knee
"plus 4 at golf" breeches that the tardee affects.
" For myself, I wouldu't wear that kind of breeches
unless l were uctually ou duty with the Guards," said
the colonel rather sardonically" they are so intensely
ugly." A tiny piam tinkled a u corner house near
the roofless church and the Grande Place. In two-
foot letters on the walls in the square were painted,
" Hommes" on some houses, "Femmes" on others :
reminders of the Boche method of segregating the
sexes before he evacuated the inhabitants he waated
to evucuate. Only rive civilians remuined in the
village nowthree old men and two feeble decrepit
women, numbed und heart-sick with the war, but
obstinate in clinging to their homesteads. Already
some of our men were patching Ieaky, shrapnel-flicked
roofs with biscuit-tins and strong strips of waterproof
heeting.
We passed through A Battery's garden at nine o'clock.
"We won't disturb them," said the colonel. "Bullivant
is a morning sleeper, and is certain hot to be up after
the night-firing." Round the corner, however, stood a
new officer who looked smart and fresh, with brightly
polished buttons and Sain Browne belt. He saluted in
the nervously precise fashion of the newly-joined officer.
The colonel answered the salure, but did not speak;
and he and I worked out wayfollowing the track
of a Tankthrough and between hedges and among
fruit-trees that had hot yet finished thei season's
output. We passed he huddled-up body of a shot

316 IUSHED, AND THE RETURI IUSH

:British soldier lying behind a fallen tree-trunk. We
were making for the quarry in which C and D
Batteries were neighbours. On a ditch-bordered road
we met ten refugees, sent back that mornig from a
hamlet a toile and a half away, not yet considered safe
from the Boche. The men, seeing us, removed their
hats and lowered them as far as the knee--the way
in which the Boche had commanded them to proffer
respect. One aged woman in a short blue skirt wor
sabots, and British puttees in place of sockings.
There had leen a mishap at D Battery in the early
hours of the morning. Their rive useable 4"5 howitzers
had been placed in a perfect how. position against the bank
of the quarry. In the excitement of night-firing a re-
inforcement gunner had failed to "engage the plungers,"
the muzzle had hot been elevated, and the shell, instead
o descending rive thousand yards away, had hit the
bank twelve yards in front. The explosion killed two
of the four men working that particular how. and
wounded a third, and knocked out the .C.O. in charge of
another how. fort)' yards distant. The colonel examined
the howitzer, looked gravely severe, and said that an
officers' inquiry would be held next day. tte asked
Major Bartlett of C Battery, who was housed in a toy-
sized cottage in the centre of the quarry, how his
18-pdrs. were shooting; and mentioned that the in-
fantry were apprehensive of short-shooting along a road
close to our present front line, since it lay at an awkward
angle for our guns. Major :Bartlett, self-possessed,
competent, answered in the way the colonel liked officers
to answer--no " I thinks": his replies either plain
"Yes" or ":No." Major Bartlett gave chapter and
verse of his battery-shooting during the two previous
days, and said that every round had been ob,erved tire.

A LAST DAY AT THE O.P.

Walking bris]<ly--the colonel was the fittest man of
forty-five I bave known--we mounted a slope of turnip-
fields and fresh-101otghed land. There was a plantation
rive hundred yards to right of us, and rive hundred
yards to left of us; into the bigger one on the lef
two 5"9's dropped as we came level witb it. Splashes
of newly thrown-up earth behind tree-clumps, against
banks and alongside bedges, showed the short breast-
high trenches, some six yards long, in which the infantry
had fought a few days before. Fifteen hundred yards
away the clustering trees of the great forest where the
enemy lay broke darkly against the horizon. "You see
that row of tall straight trees in front of the forest, to
the r]ght of tbe gabled bouse where the white fltg is
flying," said the colonel, pulling out his glasses--" that's
the present front line." Three ponderous booms from
that diection denoted trench mortars at work.
We descended the other side of the slope, keeping
alongside a hedge that ran towards a red-roofed farm.
In two separate places about three yards of the hedge
had been cut away. "Boche soldiering!" remarked the
colonel informative]y. "Enabled him to look along both
sides of the hedge and guard against surprise when our
infantry were coming up.
"We may as well call at Battalion Headquarters," he
added when we reached the farm. In a wide cellar,
where breakfast had hot yet been cleared away, we
came upon a lieutenant-colonel, twenty-four years of
age, receiving reports from his company commanders.
Suave in raanner, clear-eyed, hot hasty in making
judgments, he had learnt most things to be known
bout real war at Thiepval, Schwaben Redoubt,. and
other bloody places where the Division had marie
history; wounded again in the August advance, he

318 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PIYSH

had refused to be kePt from these final phases. The
colonel and ho understood each other. There was the
point whether liaison duties between infantry and artil-
lery could be more usefully conducted in the swift-
changing individual fighting of recent days from
infantry brigade or from infantry battalion; there
were conflicting statements by junior officers upon
short-shooting, and they required sifting; a few words
had to be said about the battalion's own stretch of
front and its own methods of harassing the enemy.
A few crisp questions and replies, all bearing upon
realities, a smile or two, a consultation of maps, and
another portion of the colonel's task for that day was
completed.
We walked across more ploughed land towards a
sunken road, where infantry could be seen congregated
in that sort of dolce fa" niente which, on the part of
infantry in support, is really rather deceptive.
A " ping-ping!" whisked past, and stung us to
alertness.
"Hullo--machine-guns !" ejaculated the colonel, and
we quickened our steps toward the sunken road.
A major and a subaltern of the machine-gunners
clambered down the opposite bank.
"I believe l've spotted that fellow, sir," burst forth
the major with some excitement. "I think he's in a
house over there . . might be  target for you . .
bullets have been coming from that way every now and
again for two days. l'll show you, if you like,
sir."
The major and the colonel crept out on top of the
bank, and ruade for a shell-hole forty yards in front.
I followed them. The major pointed across the rolling
grass lands to a two-storied grey houso with a slate

A LAST DAY AT THE O.P. 819

roof, fourteen hundred yards away. "I believe he's in
there," he said with decision.
The colonel looked through his glasses.
The major spoke again. " Do you see the square
piece removed from the church spire, sir? . . That
looks like an ' O.P.', doesn't it ?"
The colonel opened his map and pointed .to a tiny
square patch. "I .make that to be the house," he said.
"Do you agree ?"
"Yes, sir," replied the major. "We thought at
first it was the house you see marked four hundred
yards more south-east; but I believe that is really
the one."
"l've got an 'O.P.' farther forward. I'm going up
there now. We'll have a shot at the house," responded
the colonel simply.
The major went back to the suuken road. The
colonel and I walked straight ahead, each of us in
all probability wondering whether the Boche machine-
gunner was still on duty, and whether he would regard
us as worthy targets. That, at any rate, was my own
thought. We strode out over the heavy-going across a
strip of ploughed land, and heard the whizz of machine-
gun bullets once .more, not far from the spot we had
just left. We did not speak until we descended to a
dip in the ground, and reached a brook that had to be
jumped. We were absolutely by ourselves.
Up the slope, on the far side of the brook. More
ploughed land. We were both breathing hard now.
Belote we came to the crest of the slope the colonel
stopped. "We're in view from the Boche front line
from the top," he said sharply. "The'O.P.' is a hole
in the ground. . You had better follow me about
twenty yards behind. . And keep low .... Make

320 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

for the fifth telegraph-pole from the left that you will
see from the top."
He movcd off. I waited and then followed, my
mind concentrated at first on the fifth telegraph-pole
the colonel had spoken about. There was no shelling
at this moment. A bird twittered in a hedge close
by; the smell of grass and of clean earth rose strong
and sweet. /o signs or sound of war; only sunshine
and trees and----
The colonel's voice came sharp as whipcord. "Keep
down !--keep down !" I bent almost double and walked
fast at the saine time. My mind turned to September
1916, when I walked along Pozières Ridge, just before
the Courcellette fight, and was shouted at for not crouch-
ing down by my battery commander. But there were
shells abroad that day. . . I almost laughed to
myself.
I tumbled after the colonel into the square hole that
constituted the " O.P."--it had been a Boche trench-
mortar emplacement. The sweat dripped down my
face as I removed my tin hat; my hair was wet and
tangled.
Johns, a subaltern of D Battery, was in the pit with
a couple of telephonists. He was giving firing instruc-
tions to the battery.
"What are you firing at, Johns ?" inquired the colonel,
standing on a step cut in the side of the pit, and lean-
ing his elbows on the parapet.
«Two hundred yards behind that road, sir--trench
mortars suspected there, sir." He called, "All guns
parallel!" down the telephone.
"Don't you keep your guns parallel when you aren't
firing?" asked the colonel quickly. " In't that a
battery order ?"

A LAST DAY AT THE O.P. 321

Johns flushed andrep]ied, " No, sir. . . We lef
them as they were after night-firing."
" But don't you know that itis an Army order--
that guns should be left parallel ? »
"Y-e-es, sir."
"Why don't you obey it, then ?"
" I thought battery commanders were allowod their
ehoice. I.----"
The colonel cut poor Johns short. ,« It's an Army
order, and has to be obeyed. Army orders are not
ruade for othing. The reason that order was made
was because so many battery commanders were making
their own choice in the marrer. Consequently there
was trouble and delay in 'handing-over.' So the Army
ruade a standard ruling."
Then, as was always the case, the colonel softened in
manner, and told Johns to do his shooting just as if he
were not looking on.
The new subaltern of A Battery suddenly lowered
himself into the pit. The colonel brightened. "You see
the grey house over there! . . . Can you see if? . . .
Good! . . . _An enemy machine-gun is believed to be
there .... I want you to tire on that house...
There's the poin on the map."
" Sorry, sir, my wire to the battery is hot through
yet--I've just been out on it."
The colonel looked at his watch. "It's half-past
eleven now. Your line ought tobe through by this
1;ime."
"¥es, sir; i's been through once, but if wen
hall an hour ago. I expeet my signallers baek any
minute."
" Vey well! you can be working out your switch
angle and your angle of sight while you wait."
X

$22 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

Johns had now got his battery to work, and the
sight of his shells bursting among the hedges and
shrubs fired his Celtic enthusiasm and dissipated
the nervousness he had felt in the colonel's presence.
"Look at that! isn't that a fine burst ?" he called,
¢lutching my arm, m and see that one. Isn't if a
opper ?"
An exclamation from the colonel, who had stood
8phinx-like, his glasses directed upon the grey house,
ruade every one turn. "l've spotted him," he called, his
voice vibrating. "He's at the top-floor window neares
to us.. There he goes again... I heard th
'ping' and saw dust corne out of the window., low
then, is that line through yet ?"
The line wasn't through, and the excitement of the
hunt being upon us, every one felt like cursing all
telephone lines--they always did break down when
they were most wanted. The rive minutes before this
line was reported to be through seemed an hour, and
when the telephonist had laboriously to repeat the
orders, each one of us itched to seize the telephone and
8hout ribald abuse at the man at the other end.
The first shell went into the trees behind the house.
So did the round, three hundred yards shorter in range,
by which it had been hoped to complete a plus and
minus bracketing of the target. After a bold shorten-
ing of the range, the subaltern, directing the shooting
of A Battery's guns, was about to order a wide deflec-
tion to the left, but the colonel stopped him. "Your
line is all right," he said. "It looks as if you were
too much to the right from the 'O.P.', but that's the
deceptiveness of flank observation. The range is
short, that's all. Give if another hundred yards and
se what happens."

A LAST DAY AT THE O.P. 32

A direct hit resulted in twenty rounds, and there waa
jubilation in the" 0.1). '' M'Whirter of C Battery turned
up, also Captain Hopton of B, and preparations for
a window-to-window searching and harrying of the
Ioche machine-gunners were eagerly planned. It wa
2 l'.M. now, and the colonel had forgotten all about
lunch. "I think we can get back now," he said
brightly. " Register on that house," he added, turning
fo the officers in the pif, "and you can give tha
machine-gunner a hot time whenever he dares to
become troublesome. »
We walked back to the sunken road in the highes
of spirits, and af ter the major of the Machine-Gun
Corps, who had watched the shooting, had thanked
the colonel and expressed the view that the Bocho
machine-gunner might in future be reckoned among
the down-and-outs, the colonel talked of other things
besides gunnery.
I told him that though on my last leave to England I
had noted a new seriousness running through the minds
of peot, le, I had no altogether found the humble un-
selfishness, the chastened spirit that many thinkers
had prophesied as inevitable and necessary before the
coming of victory.
" But what about the men who have been out here ?
Won't they be the people of England after the war--the
real representative people ?" returned the colonel, hi
eyes lighting up as he talked. "Theirs has been the
chastening experience, at any rate. The man who come
through this must be the better man for it."
The conversation lost its seriousness when we dis-
cussed whether Army habits would weave themselvea
into the ordinary workaday world as a result of the

w&r.

324 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

"Some of them would bo good for us," said the
colonel happily. " Here's one"--picking up a rifle
and carrying it at the slope--" I'm going to carry
this to the first salvage dump, and help to keep down
taxation."
" It might be an interesting experiment to run Society

on Active Service lines," I put in.
an Acting-Baronet and then a
before getting substantive rank.
of an Acting-Duke paralyses one."

" Fancy being ruade
Temporary- Baronet
And the thought

We laughed and walked on. Along the road leading
back into the village we met a bombardier, who saluted
the colonel with the direct glance and the half-smile that
betokens previous acquaintance. The colonel stopped.
"What's your naine, Bombardier ? » he demanded.
The bombardier told him. "Weren't you in my
battery ?"
"Yes, sir," said the man, smiling, "when we first came
to France .... I'd like fo be back in the old Division,
sir."
" l'll see what can be done," said the colonel, taking
his naine and number.
"I believe I remember him, because he often came
before me as a prisoner," he told me, with a hunmrous
look, as we continued out walk. "Very stout fellow,
though."
If was a quarter-past three now, and the experiences
of tho day had sharpened the appetite. The colonel
wasn't finished yet, however, tic turned into the In-
fantry Briade Headquarters, and spent a quarter of an
hour with the bri.,:adier ,eneral and his briiade- major
discussim. the artillery work that would be required for
the next big advance. We dJscovered a lane we hadn'

A LAST DA¥ AT THE O.P. 325

walked through before, and went that way to our farm-
house. It was four o'clock when we got back, and two
batteries had prisoners waiting to go before the colonel.
So lunch was entirely wiped off the day's programme,
and ata quarter to rive we sat down to tea and large
quantities of buttered toast.

XIX. "THE COLONEL--

WE knew now that November 4th was the date fixed
for the next battle. The C.R.A. had offered the Bri,,_,ade
two days at the waggon lines, as a rest belote zero day.
The colonel didn't want to leave our farm, but two
nights at the waggon lnes would mean respte from
night-firing for the gunners; so he had asked the battery
commanders to choose between moving out for the two
days and remaining in the line. They had decided
to stay.
It turned torain on October 29th. Banks of watery,
leaden-hued clouds rolled lumberingly from the south-
west; beneath a slow depressing drizzle the orchard
became a melancholy vista of dripping branches and
sodden muddied grass. The colonel busied himself
with a captured German director and angle-of-sight
instrument, juggling with the working parts to fit them
for use with our guns--he had tle knack of handling
intricate mechanical appliances. The adjutant curled
himself up among leave-rosters and ammunition and
horse returns; I began writing the Brigade Diary for
October, and kept looking over the sandbag that re-
placed the broken panes in my window for first signs of
finer weatber.
The colonel and the adjutant played Wilde and
myself at bridge that night--the firs gaine in our mess

"THE COLONEL.--" 327

since April. Then tho colonel and I stayed up until
midnight, talking and wriing letters: he showed me a
diminutive writing-pad that his small son had sent by
that day's post. "That's a reminder that I owe him a
letter," ho smiled. "I must writoehim one .... lïle's
just old enough new te understand that I was coming
back te the war, the last rime I said good-bye." The
elonel said this with tender seriousness.
A moaning wind sprang up during the night, and,
sleepless, I tossed and turned upon my straw mattresa
until past two o'clock. One 4"2 fell near enough te
rattlo the remaining window-panes. The wail through
tho air and tho soft "plop" of the gas shells seeme&
attuned te the dirge-like soughing of the wind.
The morning broko calm and bright. There was tho
tufliness of yestcrday's day indoors te be shaken off.
meant te go out early. It was our unwritten rule
leavo the colonel te himself aL breakfast, and I drove
poncil and ruler rapidly, collating the intelligence re-
ports frein the batteries. I looked into the mess again
for my cap and cane before setting forth. The colonel
wa drinking te and reading a magazine propped up
against the sugar-basin. "I'm going round the batteries,
air," I said. " Is there anything you want me te tell
themor are you coming round yourself later ?"
"No; net this morning. I shall call on the infantry
about eleven--to talk about this next battle."
" Right, sir!"
He nodded, and I went out into the fresh cool air of
a bracing autumn day.
I did my tour o[ tho batteries, heard Beadlo's jest
about the new groom who breathed a surprised " Me an'
all ?" when told that he was expected te accompany his
officer on a ride up te th battery; and, leaving A

328 PUSHEI), AND THE RETURN PUSH

Battery's cottage at noon, crossed the brook by the little
brick bridge that turned the road towards our Ylead-
quarters farm, six hundred yards away.
"The colonel rang up a few minutes ago to say that
our notice-board at the bottom of the lane had been
blown down. He wanted it put right, because the
General is coming to see him this afternoon, and might
miss the • "
tuimng, l've told Sergeant Starling.
" Colonel B.-- came in about eleven o'clock," went
on the adjutant. "tte's going on leave and wanted to
say good-bye to the colonel."
"Where is the colonel now," I asked, picking up some
l)ivisional reports that had just arrived.
"He's with the Heavies--he's been to the Infantry.
I toid him Colonel B---- had called, and he said he'd
go round and see himmtheir mess is in the village,
isn't it ?"
At twelve minutes past one the adjutant, Wilde, and
myself sat down to lunch. "The colonel said he wouldn'
lJe late--but we needn't wait," said the adjutant.
" No; we don't want to wait," agreed Wilde, who had
been munching chocolate.
At a quarter-past one; "Crump !" "Crump!"
" Crump !"--the swift, crashing arrival of three high-
velocity shells.
"l'll ber that's not far fron A Battery," called Wilde,
jumping up; and then settled down again to his cold
beef and pickles.
"First he's sent over to-day," said the adjurant. "tte's
been awfully quiet these last two days."
Manning had brought in the bread-and-butter and
apple pudding that Meddings had ruade to celebrate
his return from leave, when the door opened abruptly.
Gillespie, the D.A. gas officer stood there. - It was the

"THE COLONEL.--" 329

habit te complain with mock-seriousness that Gillespie
timed his visits with our meal- times. I had begun
calling "ttere he is again," when something drawn, some-
thing staring in his lean Scotch face, stopped me. I
thought he was ill.
The adjutant and Wilde were gazing curiously at him.
]iy eyes left his face. I noticed that his arms were
pushed out level with his chest ; he grasped an envelope
between the thumb and forefinger of each hand. tIis
lower jaw had fallen ; his lips moved, and no sound came
from them.
The three of us at the table rose te our feet. All
our faculties were lashed te attention.
Gillespie ruade a sort of gulp. "l've got terrible
news," he said at last.
I believe that one thought, and only one thought,
circuited through the minds of the adjutant, Wilde,
and myself: The colonel !--we knew! we knew!
"The colonel. " went on Gillespie. ttis face
twitched.
Wilde was first te speak. "Wounded ?" he forced
himself te ask, his eyes staring.
"Killed !--killed !" said Gillespie, his voice rising te
a hoarse wail.
Then silence. Gillespie reached for a chair and
sank into it.
I heard him, more master of himself, say labouringly,
"Down at the bridge near A ]attery. tte and
another colonel . . both killed . they were
standing talking... I was in A ]attery mess ....
A direct hit, I should think."
The adjutant spoke in crushed awestruck tones.
"It must have been Colonel B "
I did net speak. I could net. I thought of the
Y

330 PUSHED, AND THE RETURN PUSH

colonel as I had known him, better than any of the
others: his gentleness, his honourableness, his desire
to see good in everything, his quiet collected bravery,
the clear alertness of his mind, the thoroughness with
which he followed his calling of soldier ; a man without
a mean thought in his head; a true soldier who had
received not half the honours his gifts deserved, yet
grumbled not. Ah! no one passed over in the sharing
out of honours and promotions could complain if he
paused to think of the colonel.
I stared through the window at the bright sunlight.
Dimly I became aware that Gillespie had laid the
envelope upon the table, and heard him say he had
found it lying in the roadway. I noticed the hand-
writing: the last letter the colonel had received from
his wife. It must have been blown clean out of his
jacket pocket; yet there it was, uninjured.
The adjutant's voice, low, solemn, but resolved--he
had his work to do: "It is absolutely certain it was
the colonel? There is no shadow of doubt? I shall
have to report to 'Don Ack' !"
"No shadow of doubt," replied Gillespie hopelessly,
moving his head from side to side.
Wilde came to me and asked if I would go with
him to bring in the body. I shook my head. Life
out here breeds a higher understanding of the mystic
division between soul and body; one learns to con-
template the disfigured dead with a calmness that
is hot callousness. But this was different. I-Iow real
a part he had played in my lire these last two years!
I wanted always to be able to recall him as I had
known him alive--the slow wise smile, the crisp
pleasant voice! I thought of that last note to his
little son; I thought of the quiet affection in his

"TlE COLONEL" 331

voice when he spoke of keeping in touch with those
who had shared the difficulties and the hardships of
the life we had undergone. I recalled how he and
I had carried a stretcher and searched for a dying
officer at Zillebekemthe day I was wounded, mand
how, when I was in hospital, he had written saying
he was glad we had done our bit tht day; I thought
of his happy fith in a Christmas ending of the war.
The hideous cruelty of it to be cut off at the very
last, when all that he had given his best in skill and
energy to achieve was in sight
The shufling trmp outside of men carrying a
blanket- covered stretcher. They laid it tenderly on
the flgstones beneath the sun-warmed wall of the
house.
Wilde, his face grave, sad, desolate, walked through
the mess to his room. I heard him rinsing his
hands. A chill struck at my vitls.
It is finished. The colonel is ded. There is
nothing more to write.

THE END.

PII-'PE'I) BY ,¥1LL'[AM LACKWOOD AD SO