THE REMINISCENCE OF A WRECK
[It may be necessary to explain that wood—for the roof-beams of dug-outs and the shoring up of trenches in wet weather—was priceless in Gallipoli. But whilst this book was being compiled Providence sent a storm. In the morning the beach was littered with portions of a wrecked schooner, stranded lighters, pieces of pier—all strictly the property of H.M. Government as represented by the officer commanding the Royal Engineers. “A gift from Heaven,” one Australian was heard to remark as he looked at the desolate scene next morning. Nor were his British brethren less grateful.—Eds.]
[It may be necessary to explain that wood—for the roof-beams of dug-outs and the shoring up of trenches in wet weather—was priceless in Gallipoli. But whilst this book was being compiled Providence sent a storm. In the morning the beach was littered with portions of a wrecked schooner, stranded lighters, pieces of pier—all strictly the property of H.M. Government as represented by the officer commanding the Royal Engineers. “A gift from Heaven,” one Australian was heard to remark as he looked at the desolate scene next morning. Nor were his British brethren less grateful.—Eds.]
The storm had ceased, the sea was calm, the wind a trifle raw,And miles and miles of wreckage lay upon the sandy shore;And every time the waves came up they brought a little more.The Sergeant and the Junior Sub. in contemplation stood.They wept like anything to see such quantities of wood—And then they smiled a furtive smile which boded little good.The wood lay round in lovely heaps and smiled invitingly.“Do you suppose,” the Sergeant said, “that this is meant for me?”“I doubt it,” said the Junior Sub. “Here comes the C.R.E.[1]“If fifty kings and fifty queens and fifty C.-in-C.’sPresented fifty indents and bowed low upon their knees,I hardly think that they would get more than a few of these.”The Sergeant and the Junior Sub. walked on a mile or so,Until they found a shelving bank conveniently low;And there they waited sadly for the C.R.E. to go.“Oh, timbers,” quoth the Junior Sub., who spoke with honeyed speech,“I hardly think itsafefor you to lie upon the beach.”And as he spoke he stroked the backs of those within his reach.
The timbers leapt beneath his touch and hurried plank by plank;They crowded round to hear him speak, and lined up rank on rank—But one old timber wagged his head and hid behind a bank.“The time has come,” the Sergeant said, “to talk of many things—Of bully beef and dug-outs, of Kaisers and of Kings,And why the rain comes through the roof, and whether shrapnel stings.“Some good stout planks,” the Sergeant cried, “are what we chiefly need,And four by fours and spars besides are very good indeed—So if you’re ready, sir, I think we may as well proceed.”“Oh, C.R.E.!” remarked the Sub., “I deeply sympathise.”With sobs and tears they sorted out those of the largest size,While happy thoughts of days to come loomed large before their eyes.Next morning came the C.R.E. to see what could be done;But when he came to count the planks he found that there was none—And this was hardly odd, because they’d collared every one.
Lieut.A. L. Pemberton,R.G.A.
Taylor’s Hollow,8.12.15.
C. E. W. B.Study of a battalion in Repose.
C. E. W. B.Study of a battalion in Repose.
C. E. W. B.
Study of a battalion in Repose.
FOOTNOTES:[1]C.R.E.—Officer commanding Royal Engineers.
[1]C.R.E.—Officer commanding Royal Engineers.
[1]C.R.E.—Officer commanding Royal Engineers.