The Project Gutenberg eBook ofFragments from FranceThis ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.Title: Fragments from FranceAuthor: Bruce BairnsfatherRelease date: July 2, 2008 [eBook #25951]Language: EnglishCredits: Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Emmy and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FRAGMENTS FROM FRANCE ***
This ebook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included with this ebook or online atwww.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this eBook.
Title: Fragments from FranceAuthor: Bruce BairnsfatherRelease date: July 2, 2008 [eBook #25951]Language: EnglishCredits: Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Emmy and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
Title: Fragments from France
Author: Bruce Bairnsfather
Author: Bruce Bairnsfather
Release date: July 2, 2008 [eBook #25951]
Language: English
Credits: Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Emmy and the OnlineDistributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FRAGMENTS FROM FRANCE ***
A Few Fragments from His Life
AUTHOR OF "BULLETS AND BILLETS"
flower
G. P. PUTNAM'S SONSNEW YORK AND LONDONThe Knickerbocker Press1917
Transcriber's Note:Where text is included in a cartoon and a closer look would be aid in readability, links are provided to larger images. These links are indicated by underlines on the caption title providing your browser supports such linking.
By the Editor of "The Bystander."
W
HEN Tommy went out to the great war, he went smiling, and singing the latest ditty of the halls. The enemy scowled. War, said his professors of kultur and his hymnsters of hate, could never be waged in the Tipperary spirit, and the nation that sent to the front soldiers who sang and laughed must be the very decadent England they had all along denounced as unworthy of world-power.
I fear the enemy will be even more infuriated when he turns over the pages of this book. In it the spirit of the British citizen soldier, who, hating war as he hated hell, flocked to the colours to have his whack at the apostles of blood and iron, is translated to cold and permanent print. Here is the great war reduced to grim and gruesome absurdity. It is not fun poked by a mere looker-on, it is the fun felt in the war by one who has been through it.
CAPTAIN BRUCE BAIRNSFATHER.CAPTAIN BRUCE BAIRNSFATHER.
Captain Bruce Bairnsfather has stayed at that "farm" which is portrayed in the double page of the book;he has endured that shell-swept "'ole" that is depicted on the cover; he has watched the disappearance of that "blinkin' parapet" shown on one page; has had his hair cut under fire as shown on another. And having been through it all, he has just put down what he has seen and heard and felt and smelt and—laughed at.
Captain Bairnsfather went to the front in no mood of a "chiel takin' notes." It was the notes that took him. Before the war, some time a regular soldier, some time an engineer, he had little other idea than to sketch for mischief, on walls and shirt cuffs, and tablecloths. Without the war he might never have put pencil to paper for publication. But the war insisted.
It is not for his mere editor to forecast his vogue in posterity. Naturally I hope it will be a lasting one, but I am prejudiced. Let me, however, quote a letter which reached Captain Bairnsfather from somewhere in France:
"Twenty years after peace has been declared there will be no more potent stimulus to the recollections of an old soldier than your admirable sketches of trench life. May I, with all deference, congratulate you on your humour, your fidelity, your something-else not easily defined—I mean your power of expressing in black and white a condition of mind."
"Twenty years after peace has been declared there will be no more potent stimulus to the recollections of an old soldier than your admirable sketches of trench life. May I, with all deference, congratulate you on your humour, your fidelity, your something-else not easily defined—I mean your power of expressing in black and white a condition of mind."
I hope that this forecast is a true one. If this sketch book is worthy to outlast the days of the war, and to be kept for remembrance on the shelves of those who have lived through it, it will have done its bit. For will it not be a standing reminder of theingloriousnessof war, its preposterous absurdity, and of its futility as a means of settling the affairs of nations?
CAPTAIN BRUCE BAIRNSFATHERCAPTAIN BRUCE BAIRNSFATHERThis picture was taken at the Front, less than a quarter of a mile from the German trenches. Captain Bairnsfather has come "straight off the mud," and is wearing a fur coat, a Balaclava helmet, and gum boots. Immediately behind him is a hole made by a "Jack Johnson" shell.
When the ardent Jingo of the day after to-morrow rattles the sabre, let there be somewhere handy a copy of "Fragments from France" that can be opened in front of him, at any page, just to remind him of what war is really like as it is fought in "civilised" times.
Captain Bairnsfather has become a household word—or perhaps one should say a trench-hold word. Who is ever the worse for a laugh? Certainly not the soldier in trench or dug-out or shell-swept billet. Rather may it be said that the Bairnsfather laughter has acted in thousands of cases as an antidote to the bane of depression. It is the good fortune of the British Army to possess such an antidote, and the ill-fortune of the other belligerents that they do not possess its equivalent.
A Scots officer, writing in theEdinburgh Evening News, hits the true sentiment towards Bairnsfather of the Army in France when he writes:
"To us out here the 'Fragments' are the very quintessence of life. We sit moping over a smoky charcoal fire in a dug-out. Suddenly someone, more wide-awake than others remembers the 'Fragments.' Out it comes, and we laughuproariously over each picture. For are these not the very things we are witnessing every day, incidents full of tragic humour? The fed-up spirit you see on the faces of Bairnsfather's pictures is a sham—a mask beneath which there lies something that is essentially British."
"To us out here the 'Fragments' are the very quintessence of life. We sit moping over a smoky charcoal fire in a dug-out. Suddenly someone, more wide-awake than others remembers the 'Fragments.' Out it comes, and we laughuproariously over each picture. For are these not the very things we are witnessing every day, incidents full of tragic humour? The fed-up spirit you see on the faces of Bairnsfather's pictures is a sham—a mask beneath which there lies something that is essentially British."
Man smoking
In a communication received by Captain Bairnsfather an eminent Member of Parliament writes: "You are rising to be a factor in the situation, just as Gillray was a factor in the Napoleonic wars." The difference is, however, that instead of turning his satire exclusively upon the enemy, as did Gillray, Captain Bairnsfather turns his—good-humouredly always—on his fellow-warriors. This habit of ours of making fun of ourselves has come by now to be fairly well understood by even the most sensitive and serious-minded of our continental friends and neighbours. It hardly needs nowadays to be pointed out that it is a fixed condition of the national life that wherever Britons are working together in any common object, whether in school, college, profession, or even warfare, they must neverappearto be regarding their occupation too seriously. Those who know us—and who, nowadays, has the excuse for not knowing us, seeing how very much we have been discussed?—understand that our frivolity is apparent and not real. Because we have the gift of laughter, we are no less appreciative of grim realities than are our scowling enemies, and nobody knows that better in these days than those scowling enemies themselves.
Their hymns of hate and prayers for punishment have been impotent expressions of exasperation at our coolness, deliberation,and inflexible determination—qualities they had deluded themselves before the war into believing would prove all a sham before the first blast of frightfulness. They told themselves that, a war once actually begun, the imperturbable pipe-smoking John Bull would be transformed into a cowering craven. More complete confusion of this false belief is nowhere to be found than in these "Fragments." It ranks as a colossal German defeat that successive bloodthirsty assaults upon us by land, sea, and air should produce a Bairnsfather, depicting the "contemptible little Army," swollen out of all recognition, settling humorously down to war as though it were the normal business of life.
"Fed up"? Yes, that is the word by which to describe, if you like, the prevalent Bairnsfather expression of countenance. But the kind of weariness he depicts is the reverse of the kind that implies "give up."Au contraire, mes amis!The "fed-up" Bairnsfather man is a fixture. "J'y suis," he might exclaim, if he spoke French, "et il m'embête que j'y suis. Je voudrais que je n'y sois pas. Mais j'y suis, et, mes bons camarades, par tous les dieux, j'y reste!"
If the enemy should read in the words "fed up" a sign that our tenacity is giving out, he reads it wrong; grim will be the disillusionment of any hopes he may build upon his misreading, and even grimmer the anger of those whom he may have deluded.
Theseverdammte Engländerare never what they seem, but are always something unpleasantly different. We are the Great Enigma of the war, and in our mystery lies our greatest strength. Let us be careful not to lose it. Those who would have us simplify ourselves upon the continental model, and present to the world a picture of sombre seriousness, are asking us to change ournational character. Cromwell asked the painter to paint him, "warts and all." Bairnsfather sketches us—smiles and all. And who would take the smiles off the "dials" of the figures you will see on the pages that follow?
Where to Live—[ADVT.]Where to Live—[ADVT.]IN ONE OF THE CHOICEST LOCALITIES OF NORTHERN FRANCE.TO BE LET (three minutes from German trenches), this attractive andWELL-BUILT DUG-OUT,containing one reception-kitchen-bedroom and UP-TO-DATE FUNK HOLE (4ft. by 6ft.), all modern inconveniences, including gas and water. This desirable Residence stands one foot above water level, commanding an excellent view of the enemy trenches.EXCELLENT SHOOTING (SNIPE AND DUCK).—Particulars of the late Tenant, Room 6, Base Hospital, Bonlog c.
Where to Live—[ADVT.]Where to Live—[ADVT.]
IN ONE OF THE CHOICEST LOCALITIES OF NORTHERN FRANCE.
TO BE LET (three minutes from German trenches), this attractive and
WELL-BUILT DUG-OUT,
containing one reception-kitchen-bedroom and UP-TO-DATE FUNK HOLE (4ft. by 6ft.), all modern inconveniences, including gas and water. This desirable Residence stands one foot above water level, commanding an excellent view of the enemy trenches.
EXCELLENT SHOOTING (SNIPE AND DUCK).—Particulars of the late Tenant, Room 6, Base Hospital, Bonlog c.
"Where did that one go to?""Where did that one go to?"
My Dug-Out: A lay of the trenches.My Dug-Out: A lay of the trenches.
That Evening Star-shell.That Evening Star-shell.
"Oh, star of eve, whose tender beamFalls on my spirit's troubled dream."
—Wolfram's Aria in "Tannhäuser."
"They've evidently seen me.""They've evidently seen me."
Situation Shortly Vacant.Situation Shortly Vacant.
In an old-fashioned house in France an opening will shortly occur for a young man, with good prospects of getting a rise.
The Tactless Teuton.The Tactless Teuton.
A member of the Gravediggers' Corps joking with a private in the Orphans' Battalion, prior to a frontal attack.
"Well, if you knows of a better 'ole, go to it.""Well, if you knows of a better 'ole, go to it."
A Proposal in Flanders.A Proposal in Flanders.
The point of Jean's pitchfork awakens a sense of duty in a mine that shirked.
No Possible Doubt Whatever.No Possible Doubt Whatever.
Sentry: "'Alt! Who goes there?"
He of the Bundle: "You shut yer —— mouth, or I'll —— come and knock yer —— head off!"
Sentry: "Pass, friend!"
"Gott strafe this barbed wire.""Gott strafe this barbed wire."
So Obvious.So Obvious.
The Young and Talkative One: "Who made that 'ole?"
The Fed-up One: "Mice."
The Fatalist.The Fatalist.
I'm sure they'll 'ear this damn thing squeakin'."
A Maxim Maxim.A Maxim Maxim.
"Fire should be withheld till a favourable target presents itself."
Our Adaptable Armies.Our Adaptable Armies.
Private Jones (late "Zogitoff," the comedy wire artist) appreciably reduces the quantity of hate per yard of frontage.
A.D. Nineteen Fifty.A.D. Nineteen Fifty.
"I see the War Babies' Battalion is a coming out."
Frustrated Ingenuity.Frustrated Ingenuity.
Owing to dawn breaking sooner than he anticipated, that inventive fellow, Private Jones, has a trying time with his latest creation, "The Little Plugstreet," the sniper's friend.
Keeping His Hand In.Keeping His Hand In.
Private Smith, the company bomber, formerly "Shinio," the popular juggler, frequently causes considerable anxiety to his platoon.
"—— —— these —— —— rations.""—— —— these —— —— rations."
Dear ——Dear ——
"At present we are staying at a farm. . ."
The Eternal Question.The Eternal Question.
"When the 'ell is it goin' to be strawberry?"
Directing the Way at the Front.Directing the Way at the Front.
"Yer knows the dead 'orse 'cross the road? Well, keep straight on till yer comes to a p'rambulator 'longside a Johnson 'ole."
The Late Comer.The Late Comer.
"Where 'ave you been? 'Avin' your bloomin' fortune told?"
The Innocent Abroad.The Innocent Abroad.
Out since Mons: "Well, what sort of a night 'ave yer 'ad?"
Novice (but persistent optimist): "Oh, alright. 'Ad to get out and rest a bit now and again."
"There goes our blinkin' parapet again.""There goes our blinkin' parapet again."
"The Push"—in Three Chapters."The Push"—in Three Chapters.
By one who's been "Pushed."
"The Spirit of our Troops is Excellent.""The Spirit of our Troops is Excellent."
The Things that Matter.The Things that Matter.
Scene: Loos, during the September offensive.
Colonel Fitz-Shrapnel receives the following message from "G. H. Q.":—"Please let us know, as soon as possible, the number of tins of raspberry jam issued to you last Friday."
The Soldier's Dream.The Soldier's Dream.
A "Bitter" disappointment on waking.
The Thirst for Reprisals.The Thirst for Reprisals.
"'And me a rifle, someone. I'll give these ——s 'ell for this!"
The Ideal and the Real.The Ideal and the Real.
What we should like to see at our billets—and (inset) what we do see.
"Watch me make a fire-bucket of 'is 'elmet.""Watch me make a fire-bucket of 'is 'elmet."
"That 16-inch Sensation.""That 16-inch Sensation."
That Sword.That Sword.
How he thought he was going to use it——
——and how he did use it.
——and how he did use it.
What It Really Feels Like.What It Really Feels Like.
To be on patrol duty at night-time.
"The same old moon.""The same old moon."
"My dream for years to come.""My dream for years to come."
Coiffure in the Trenches.Coiffure in the Trenches.
"Keep yer 'ead still, or I'll 'ave yer blinkin' ear off."
Another Maxim Maxim.Another Maxim Maxim.
"Machine guns form a valuable support for infantry."
Our Democratic Army.Our Democratic Army.
Member of Navvies' Battalion (to Colonel): "I say, yer mate's dropped 'is cane."
Five days leave! Taxi!
Never Again!Never Again!
"In future I snipe from the ground."
Thoroughness.Thoroughness.
"What time shall I call you in the morning, sir?"
(Colonel Chutney, V.C., home on short leave, decides to keep in touch with dug-out life.)
That Hat.That Hat.
"Pop out and get it, Bert."
"Pop out yerself."
Springtime in Flanders.Springtime in Flanders.
"Personally, I think this is just what you want for laying your eggs in, but, as Bairnsfather says, 'If you knows of a better 'ole, go to it.'"
The Dud Shell—Or the Fuse-Top Collector.The Dud Shell—Or the Fuse-Top Collector.
"Give it a good 'ard 'un, Bert; you can generally 'ear 'em fizzing a bit first if they are a-goin' to explode."
"What's all this about unmarried men?""What's all this about unmarried men?"
The Historical Touch.The Historical Touch.
"Well, Alfred, 'ow are the cakes?"
His Initiation.His Initiation.
No. 99988 Private Blobs (on sentry-go) feels that he has at last stumbled across the true explanation of that somewhat cryptic expression, "There'll be dirty work at the cross-roads to-night!"
When One Would Like to Start an Offensive on One's Own.When One Would Like to Start an Offensive on One's Own.
Recipe for Feeling Like This—Bully, biscuits, no coke, and leave just cancelled.
Trouble With One of the Souvenirs.Trouble With One of the Souvenirs.
"'Old these a minute while I takes that blinkin' smile off 'is dial."
The Conscientious Exhilarator.The Conscientious Exhilarator.
"Every encouragement should be given for singing and whistling."—(Extract from a "Military Manual.")
That painstaking fellow, Lieut. Orpheus, does his best, but finds it uphill work at times.
The Nest.The Nest.
"'Ere, when you're finished, I'll borrow that there top note of yours to clean the knives with."
Those Superstitions.Those Superstitions.
Private Sandy McNab cheers the assembly by pointing out (with the aid of his pocket almanac) that it is Friday the 13th and that their number is one too many.
The Professional Touch.The Professional Touch.
"Chuck us out that bag o' bombs, mate; it's under your 'ead."
Happy Memories of the Zoo.Happy Memories of the Zoo.
What Time do they Feed the Sea-Lions, Alf?"
Observation.Observation.
"'Ave a squint through these 'ere, Bill; you can see one of the ——'s eatin' a sausage as clear as anythin'."
Immediate and Important!Immediate and Important!
Never has Private Smith's face felt so large and smooth as when he hands his Captain the following message at what he feels is an unsuitable moment: "The G.O.C. notices with regret the tendency of all ranks to shave the upper lip. This practice must cease forthwith."
Other Times, Other Manners.Other Times, Other Manners.
The Decline of Poetry and Romance in War.
His Dual Obsession.His Dual Obsession.
Owing to the frequent recurrence of this dream, Herr Fritz von Lagershifter has decided to take his friends' advice: Give up sausage late at night and brood less upon the possible size of the British Army next spring.
The Communication Trench.The Communication Trench.
Problem—Whether to walk along the top and risk it, or do another mile of this.
Letting Himself Down.Letting Himself Down.
Having omitted to remove the elastic band prior to descent, Herr Franz von Flopp feels that the trial exhibition of his new parachute is a failure.
Old Saws and New Meanings——By Bairnsfather.Old Saws and New Meanings——By Bairnsfather.
There is certainly a lot of truth in that Napoleonic maxim, "An army moves on its stomach."
Nobbled.Nobbled.
"'Ow long are you up for, Bill?"
"Seven years."
"Yer lucky ——, I'm duration."
The Intelligence Department.The Intelligence Department.
"Is this 'ere the Warwicks?"
"Nao. 'Indenburg's blinkin' Light Infantry."
Valuable Fragment from Flanders: It All Comes to This in Time.Valuable Fragment from Flanders: It All Comes to This in Time.
"This interesting fragment, found near Ypres (known to the ancients as Wipers), throws a light on a subject which has long puzzled science, i.e., what was the origin and meaning of those immense zigzag slots in the ground stretching from Ostend to Belfort? There is no doubt that there was some inter-tribal war on at this period."—Extract from"The Bystander,"a.d.4916.