Chapter VTHE MOTOR-LORRY CONVOYOur duties continued daily, with one or two exceptions, in an unbroken monotony for the remainder of the winter, loading the supply lorries at railhead one day and taking them out in convoy the next, to deliver the supplies to the troops who were billeted in the surrounding villages.What cold journeys those convoy jobs used to be too! The front seat of a lorry leading a convoy, on a frosty, snowy, windy or wet day, is no place for a joy ride, and the only alternative for a section officer, namely, a motor-bicycle on a muddy or dusty road, as the case may be, is not much better. The mud of the trenches in winter has become proverbial, but it is not confined to them: it exists on the roads behind the line as well. It must be seen to be believed! Take any good main country road, that for years has been used merely by a few farmers' carts and periodically perhaps by a small amount of motor-car traffic; suddenly start running over it several hundred heavily loaded motor-lorries, ambulances, general service wagons drawn by teams of four horses, not to mention sundry motor-cars, motor-bicycles, and several batteries of artillery; continue to do this every day for a few months, in winter for choice; let the heavens pour forth torrents of rain, fairly continuously day and night, as was the case during the winter months of 1914; let the road be made on a clay soil and ill-drained, perhaps not drained at all artificially—the one and only result in due course will be a road full of pot holes and ankle-deep with mud and slush. This is no exaggeration; it is exactly what has happened to the roads on which we have to travel behind the trenches. The only wonder is that they have stood such a severe test so well. In summer, of course, they are correspondingly dusty, and it is an open question which is the lesser of the two evils—to get oneself splashed from head to foot with mud, or almost choked with dust. The user of the roads that one pities most, though it must be admitted he appears to be perfectly happy and contented with his job, is the motor cyclist dispatch rider. Clad in leather overalls with map-case hanging from one shoulder, dispatch case from the other, and revolver attached to his belt, he dashes along the worst roads, frequently into the danger zone, wet or fine, day or night, winter or summer, at lightning speed, nevertheless finding time as he goes to salute any officer he may chance to meet or overtake. This he accomplishes by turning his head and eyes smartly in the direction of the officer to whom he is paying the compliment, at the same time proceeding at considerable speed in a direction at right angles to that towards which he has turned his head whilst saluting. Such courtesy surely deserves appreciation from the officer!Cases of motor-lorries being "ditched" or stuck in thick and squelching mud at the side of the road are not unknown, though, of course, during the succeeding winters they were less prevalent than in 1914, through greater expertness, born of continued practice and more experience on the part of the drivers in handling their lorries. Still, the liability to stick in a convenient ditch is always present in bad weather on narrow country roads, and during the temporary pause of the lorry thus caused, the greater the effort exerted by the driver and engine to extract it, the more briskly the rear wheels revolve in the mud without advancing the lorry, and the worse becomes the "ditching." Non-skid chains that can be easily fitted in such an emergency have proved themselves an invaluable aid. With these securely fixed on the offending wheel or wheels and another lorry in front, attached to the defaulter by towing chains, the latter is soon on the crown of the road once more and able to continue its journey.All convoys are run strictly in accordance with orders, and the cardinal principles are briefly that lorries running in convoy must keep twenty-five yards, approximately, apart and not travel at a greater speed than ten miles per hour, even this being reduced on passing troops on the march or going through a village or town. Since the convoy must keep together, its speed must therefore necessarily be the speed of its slowest vehicle, and the method of keeping a convoy together and thus preventing lorries taking a wrong road or getting lost is a very simple one. In addition to the driver, each lorry has a driver's mate, who rides inside the body of the vehicle just behind the tailboard, and as soon as the vehicle immediately in rear of him stops, he signals to his driver to pull up. Thus the driver of the lorry immediately in front will receive the same message from his mate, namely, that the lorry immediately behind him has stopped, and in a very few minutes the whole column of vehicles will be at a standstill. Instances of such a stoppage occurred in the event of a lorry in the column suffering from any mechanical breakdown during the course of its journey or meeting with a mishap of any kind on the road. It is also the job of the "look-out" man in the back of the lorry to warn the driver, by means of the communication cord, when vehicles approaching from the rear desire to overtake the convoy, so that the driver can be immediately warned to pull off the centre of the road and thus enable the faster-moving vehicle to pass. The idea of the communication cord is a good one; on these occasions it makes outbursts of fiery language from Staff officers in cars, who are in a hurry, superfluous.The tendency of drivers of all forms of motor vehicles is, and I suppose always will be, to drive too fast, exceeding the speed limit, whether the nature of the road and other circumstances allow or not. The condition of the roads within the war zone is such that to drive too fast spells broken springs, to mention only one result. Severe disciplinary action has become necessary, and with this in view Assistant Provost Marshals have a way of employing military police with stop-watches in the old and approved method of the Portsmouth and Brighton roads. I heard of one trap which was set on a little stretch of road that was within view and under enemy observation. At this particular spot the military police made some easy captures. All roads are under the supervision of the military police, who direct all traffic. Each army issues a Traffic Map of the area in which it is operating, and this is in possession of all officers in charge of convoys. On it, roads over which, owing to their broadness, traffic is allowed to travel from both directions are marked in a certain way; narrower roads, over which it is only allowed to proceed one way, are otherwise indicated on the map. This road control, though often an inconvenience, necessitating a long detour, in some cases, to reach a certain place, in order to avoid going against the orders, is absolutely essential. Without it, blocks in the traffic, ditching in narrow roads, and consequent delay, would be of frequent occurrence.All lorries are, of course, inscribed with a W.D. number, duly registered at G.H.Q., and from this their histories can be immediately traced. Different supply columns and ammunition parks choose and register distinguishing marks of their own—almost like trade-marks: the Bee, Bluebird, Black Cat, Bulldog, are all to be seen, to give only a few examples. The origin of these distinctive marks is a matter of some interest. When the 1st Indian Cavalry Supply Column arrived in France in November 1914, there were, of course, far fewer lorries in the country than there are to-day. At this time there was a General Routine Order to the effect that all motor-lorries were to have affixed to the outside of their tailboards a large white card, 15 inches square, with a red danger bull's-eye, 6 inches in diameter, in the centre of the card. Cards of this size and description were accordingly issued, one to each lorry, to be nailed on the back, the idea being that, at night especially, the driver of a lorry would be able to distinguish a lorry in front by the aid of his headlights shining on to the bull's-eye and thus avoid collision. The idea was a good one, but the inventor did not take into account the weather conditions that prevailed during the winter of 1914 in the North of France, for in less than no time the cards became pulp, destroyed by the constant rain. We therefore did away with the cards and painted lasting facsimiles in red and white where the cards had been. But even this was not everything that was required, as the lorries of our Supply Column were not easily distinguishable from those of others. To overcome this, a special mark was painted over the bull's-eye and square. This was the origin of all the distinguishing marks in existence at present amongst the various —— Supply Columns and Parks.Every lorry and car is equipped with a complement of tools, necessary for adjustments and the carrying out of roadside repairs. The tools are all entered up in the log-book with which each vehicle is provided for the purpose, the driver signing a receipt for them in it, when taking over the vehicle, and having to make good any deficiencies that can be traced to his own neglect when he is transferred to a different vehicle and "hands over" to the driver succeeding him.The multifarious duties of the motor-lorry convoys continue in all weathers and at all times of day and night. Carrying as they do every imaginable material, from bread and meat to stones and coal, they do not work by time-tables, nor do definite hours end and begin their day's work, so that a high-pressure state of readiness has to be constantly maintained, this being only possible by perfect organization and the closest attention to the most minute details, which can alone pave the way to thoroughness.The duties of the Army Service Corps in peace-times are many and various, and the inauguration of hundreds of mechanical transport units since the outbreak of war has multiplied in every possible way the duties which previously existed, and considerably enlarged its scope of action and power of assistance to the armies in the field. Its many phases, and the important part that it plays in the commissariat of our armies, cause the Army Service Corps to be an integral part of the fighting machine. From a Departmental Corps it has become an army in itself, with many thousands of officers. Its spheres of operation with the Expeditionary Force in France alone are of such a magnitude as could never have been adequately realized before the war. It will be seen, therefore, that thousands of mechanically propelled vehicles, from motor-cycles to huge tractors, are employed in this vast undertaking. This necessitates supply depots, where are kept stocks of tyres, spare parts, tools, and reserves of all kinds of stores, such as oil, petrol, etc., essential to the maintenance of this huge system in the desired state of efficiency, so that it is capable of promptly satisfying the many and constant demands which are made daily by officers commanding mechanical transport units in the field. The organization now existing does credit to its originators. For the original Expeditionary Force, motor-vans and such-like suitable vehicles were hurriedly impressed, and of them Supply Columns, Ammunition Parks and such-like units were rapidly formed and dispatched to France. So one would, in those early days, frequently meet on the road a convoy composed of miscellaneous vehicles of various makes, brewers' drays, grocers' vans, etc., still bearing the names, in blazing letters, of their former owners, and the nature of the load they had previously carried. The London General Omnibuses and their drivers, which were previous to the war subsidized by the Government, continued for some time to run along the roads of Flanders loaded with troops, still displaying their former route through London. "Piccadilly-Strand-Bank" routes were to be seen, whilst many of them continued to advertise the Revue at the "Empire" and the fact that it started at "8.30 p.m. every evening."But times have changed, and convoys are now composed, not of miscellaneous subsidized or impressed vehicles, but of standard motor-lorries; each convoy made up of vehicles of the same make, each painted a uniform colour, and all of exactly similar appearance, groomed and turned out like a regiment on parade.Chapter VITHE WORKSHOPSAny account of the working and organization of a unit in the field, composed of mechanically propelled vehicles, would be incomplete unless it contained a description of the mobile repair workshops which form such an important part of it. So vital are they that without their aid, and the skilful application of the tools they embody, the Supply Column—if such, for example, be the nature of the unit—would become hopelessly crippled and inefficient as a natural course of events. The question will possibly arise in the reader's mind, "How are the two hundred odd motor-lorries, cars, ambulances, and motor-cycles attached to a Division whilst on service at the front, and which from the General's car to the machine of the motor-cyclist dispatch rider are all of necessity subjected to such hard wear and tear, maintained in a state of efficiency and 'running order'?" I have alluded briefly to the workshops of the —— Indian Cavalry Division Supply Column, and in this chapter I shall endeavour to give a more or less complete description of them—the work they perform and the results they achieve in the general scheme of things. The workshop section of a Cavalry Supply Column has an artificer personnel made up of fitters, turners, blacksmiths, electricians, and carpenters—the latter known in Army parlance as "wheelers." The equipment consists in four mobile workshops and four store lorries. Dealing firstly with the workshops themselves: the type of lorry employed is usually a Silent Knight Daimler or Leyland, propelled by a 40-h.p. engine. Surmounting the chassis is a platform, on which is erected a four-sided and closed-in body; the two sides are made so that they can be opened out at will and secured horizontally by wood supports. The top half of each side, opening upwards, forms an extension to the roof, and the lower half, being let down, extends the platform or floor-space. The back and front are fixed vertically upright, the latter immediately behind the driver's seat. Inside the body on the wooden platform are mounted a lathe, drilling machine, tool-grinding machine, also fitter's bench and vices, together with the accompanying small hand tools. A petrol engine direct coupled to a dynamo drives the lathe, drilling machine, etc. Such, briefly, is the arrangement of the standard mechanical transport mobile workshops. Our Workshops Officer, however, was not satisfied and sought to improve upon it. This he has accomplished in the following way. In the first place he has made structural alterations to the workshop lorry bodies so as to take fuller advantage of the possible floor-space. To do this he has extended the front end of the body from the back of the driver's seat to the dashboard of the lorry. Secondly, he has eliminated the stationary petrol engine, and instead employs the engine in the lorry chassis to drive the lathe, drilling machine, and other machine tools. The system of driving the machine tools from the lorry engine is by means of a triple set of whittle belts to the dynamo, and thence the power is transmitted to the machines. The speed of the engine is maintained constant by a specially designed centrifugal governor. Imitation being the sincerest form of flattery, this system of drive in one form or another has since been copied in many workshops of the mechanical transport units in France. In addition to the workshop lorries, O.C. Workshops has a two-wheeled "trailer" of his own design and construction, which when the column is on the move is coupled up to one of the workshop lorries and towed by the latter. It is designed to carry two spare engines complete. When stationary, it acts as a fitting, erecting, and engine-testing bench, and on it all lorry engines are overhauled and refitted as occasion requires. On the trailer is fixed a crane, which enables the engine that is to be overhauled to be lifted direct from its lorry chassis and placed on the trailer. Conversely, the crane replaces the reconstructed engine into its chassis, time and labour occupied by the operation being considerably reduced by the use of this device as compared with manual labour and pulley blocks. The time during which the lorry is out of action is appreciably reduced; it becomes a matter of hours instead of days, for the engine that is removed from the chassis for overhauling purposes is replaced for the time being by one of the engines which is in running order carried on the trailer. Moreover, without the mechanical advantage gained by the use of the trailer and crane, the operation would naturally take very considerably longer and the lorry be out of action for a proportionately longer period.The O.C. Workshops has also designed and constructed numerous other time- and labour-saving appliances; for example, he has made extensions to lathes, enabling almost any part of a lorry to be machined in them when required.To enable the blacksmiths to tackle any job that might be required, he has made and fitted up an electrically driven "Roots" blower. Thus it is only necessary to build up a hearth of bricks and mud, set up the blower, switch on the electric current, and a roaring welding fire within a few minutes is the result. Although these workshops are designated "mobile," and only intended for the carrying out of simple and "running" repairs, the blacksmiths have literally forged axles by the roadsides. Amongst other appliances must be mentioned the brass furnace, in which is melted up all old scrap, such as used up phosphor or bronze bearings, etc., and from such metal, when poured, castings are made of every conceivable brass part of a car or lorry that could be required. It is not uncommon for 2 cwt. of metal to be "run" in a day from this furnace and cast into moulds, the necessary "patterns" from which the castings are moulded being also made by artificers of the workshops.The net result of such well-equipped workshops is that during the whole time that the column has been in France it has not been found necessary to return a single vehicle to the Base Depot for replacement. Every repair has been carried out "in the field" by the column workshops. The non-evacuation of a single lorry is a record held by the —— Indian Cavalry Division Supply Column, and the fact is the more remarkable since over half of the lorries are, as I have previously stated, ex-London General buses.It will be seen at once from the brief description I have given of the workshops appliances that at any time, day or night, and in any place, be it even by the roadside, it is only necessary to start up the engines and the whole unit is set in motion, and is immediately in full working order—at night, illuminated throughout by a blaze of electric incandescent lamps, the current being generated by the self-same workshop lorry engine.The workshop artificers are all specially enlisted and skilled workmen at their particular jobs, and with the tools and appliances at their disposal, there is no job that they would not be prepared to tackle. One of the difficulties of mechanical transport vehicles and motor-cars has been the question of road "springs." Owing to having to carry heavy loads on rough roads, these were found to occasionally break a leaf or two, and thus put the vehicle out of action. For this reason the O.C. Workshops not only makes sets of springs, but hardens and tempers them; an operation which, being an art in itself, requires considerable skill. He has constructed a special hardening furnace for this purpose.Apart from the many jobs necessary to keep all the motor vehicles of the Division, the Supply Column motor-lorries and cars, all the motor ambulances, motor-cycles and Divisional Staff cars, the total number amounting to over two hundred in the case of a Cavalry Division, in a state of running order and constant efficiency, the following, to mention only a few, are samples of the jobs which have been undertaken and accomplished: the making of 3-inch shells, hand grenades, "discs" for motor-car wheels, automatic barbed-wire cutters, and last, though not least, a silver christening cup, which was presented by the officers of the column to one of our number, as a gift from them for his son and heir, who was born very shortly after our arrival in France. In order to make this cup, first of all a wooden pattern was made; a quantity of old silver spoons, forks, and other articles were then melted up in the furnace, and the cup cast from the pattern. It was then turned up and polished in a lathe, the result being a handsome goblet, 18 inches in height and weighing 1 1/2 lb. The O.C. Workshops and his artificers delight in making any special article which calls for exceptional skill and ingenuity; there are sometimes days when possibly the workshops are not particularly overburdened with work, and "fancy" jobs such as the above serve to keep the artificers' hands "in," and the efficiency of the tools and machines up to high-water mark.As I have already explained, although the workshops are designated "mobile," which term implies that they can be moved from place to place as the position of the column changes, and also suggests that they are only intended for carrying out "running" repairs, they are now the most complete and up-to-date engineering works for the size that it is possible to imagine. They are able to carry out all the operations of any engineering works, from the preparation of designs and drawings, patterns, castings, and forgings, etc., to the fitting together of the complete article. Every workshop tool and appliance is marked with a number, which identifies the workshop lorry to which it belongs, so that in the event of the column receiving an order to suddenly move, which is, in fact, frequently the case, the entire equipment can be packed up and the workshops are on the road in less than a couple of hours from the time the order to move is received. There is a place for everything, and everything has been designed and constructed to fit in its place. It is, of course, necessary to have always at hand a considerable quantity of workshop stores in the form of spare parts, tools, sparking-plugs, bolts, nuts and the like; these are carried in the store lorries, which have closed-in bodies, the interior of the bodies being fitted out with pigeon-holes and compartments for the purpose. The store lorries are four in number; they also serve as offices for the storekeepers and clerks, and in them all office work connected with the organization of the workshops is carried out. In order to enable this to be done, the O.C. Workshops has fitted them with an office table apiece and large side windows to admit light and air, two necessaries which the original designers must have overlooked! The lorry which serves as his own office he has fitted up with an office-chair and table, cupboards, an aluminium wash-hand basin, which was cast from scrap aluminium, a gas stove, and hot-water supply apparatus, the whole equipment having been made throughout in the workshops. The interior of the lorry is also, of course, lit with electricity, and thus the O.C. Workshops is enabled to carry on his work in comfort day or night, summer or winter.Chapter VIILIFE BEHIND THE LINEDuring our stay at Fouqtiereuil, which was not, however, of long duration, we saw and heard things that to most of us, at any rate, were quite new. In the distance artillery was continually booming away, and at night the brilliant flashes of the star-shells over the trenches beyond us lit up the sky. It was not uncommon any day to see an aeroplane in the distance, followed in its passage across the sky by little puffs of white smoke, the phenomenon caused by shrapnel shells loosed off by our anti-aircraft guns on land at a hostile Taube, bursting all around it.Our next move was to Lillers, where we remained only for a short time also. Of our journeys and convoys from this railhead I give some account in a following chapter. A few days before the end of December, railhead was again moved, this time to Berguette, and here we spent our first Christmas Day. Our mess was a room in a small empty house, which certainly looked cheerless enough when we first saw it, but the O.C. Workshops very soon, with the assistance of his able artificers, produced a table and forms, rigged up a thoroughly efficient acetylene lighting plant and also a fire-grate; this latter was really a masterpiece of blacksmiths' art.With these and many luxuries in the form of Christmas puddings and cakes sent by fond relatives at home, not forgetting a turkey locally acquired by the C.O., and some champagne of doubtful vintage, we managed to do ourselves proud. In all the different places in which we have been stationed, whether our mess has been a brickyard, a deserted house, a barn or a tent, the ingenuity of O.C. Workshops and his contrivances to produce light, heat, and such-like cardinal comforts have never failed us. A man who has spent years in the wilds of Africa and is accustomed to making himself always comfortable and thoroughly at home amid the most unpromising surroundings—even amongst the haunts of the man-eating lions of Tsavo or the snowy summits of the Klondyke—and who is also an engineer and an inventive genius, is a distinct acquisition to any unit on active service.The artistic touch also we do not usually omit, for whenever possible we decorate the faded wall-paper of the messroom with a selection of Raphael Kirchner's fair "Parisiennes"—those charming vivandiêres of the trenches, dressed with that economy which is so very French!A day or two before the end of the year railhead was again moved. This time to Aire-sur-la-Lys, where we were destined to stay for some months. Aire is one of those quaint, old-fashioned little towns of which there are so many in the Northern departments of France, with its largepavéGrande Place or open market square bordered by shops, and squared off at one end by an imposing Hôtel de Ville. I must not forget that here also is the Café du Commerce, which in due course became a recognized rendezvous for officers between the hours of six and eight every evening, and where Madame and Mdlle Chermeux dispensed many delectableapéritifs.Aire contains one or two good examples of sixteenth-century Spanish architecture, and a large, square-towered and massive cathedral, which has been restored and added to until it seems to embody many types of architecture, and incidentally contains some very fine and beautifully coloured stained-glass windows, the interior effect of these in the long, dark nave being somewhat nullified by the amount of cheap and gaudy decoration, gilt paint and such-like, on walls and pillars, alas! so noticeable in many cathedrals and big churches in France.Not very far from this cathedral a number of our motor-lorries were parked. The town boasted of many good billets, as is usual in small towns of this sort. The rank and file sleep usually in their lorries. These can, by a man with a little ingenuity, be made quite comfortable resting-places, by rigging up inside the vehicle a hammock or other similar contrivance. With the tail-board up the cold is more or less kept out, and the tarpaulin cover, which is stretched over the top of long oval-shaped, channel iron supports, roofs in the vehicle and protects the sleeper from rain and other indiscretions of the weather. Other accommodation in the shape of empty warehouses is usually available, or billets in private houses—if the men care to go to the expense of paying for them—are not disallowed. In the smaller villages matters become somewhat different, the only opportunity for additional cover consisting usually in the inevitable farmhouse mud-walled barns. These are seldom weather-proof, and frequently their hospitality must be shared with many rats which also make them their dwelling-place.French farms are curiously arranged places. In the North of France, at any rate, they are invariably one-storied buildings of rectangular shape surrounding a farmyard with a dung-heap. Near the dung-heap is frequently a pump, so it is not to be wondered at that the greatest care has to be taken in treating water before it is used for drinking purposes by the troops. This is accomplished by large movable chemically charged filters, mounted on wheels and towed by wagon or motor-lorry from place to place as necessity may require. In any place where troops are billeted it becomes necessary to immediately construct incinerators, either of brick or metal, where all rubbish in the shape of empty jam-tins, garbage, etc., can be destroyed and, after being thus burnt, is buried. The result is that ground in France, after being occupied by British troops, is generally left by them in a better state of sanitation than they found it, owing to the measures taken to drain any stagnant water and the free use of chemical disinfectants over any doubtful soil or drainage. The French peasants sometimes express surprise at the precautions taken by the British Army to avoid insanitation, and at the fact that all refuse is buried after being burnt. Owing to the latter we have sometimes been described asles chats, the peasants apparently assuming that we have learnt this idea from the habits of the amiable members of the feline tribe.All such undertakings are carried out by that most necessary and efficient party of men known as the Sanitary Squad.But to leave the subject of billeting areas in general and return to the town of Aire and the attractions it offered. I shall not forget the first Sunday—the first of the New Year, 1915—which we spent there. Besides ourselves there were considerable numbers of troops stationed in the vicinity at the time, and in honour of this fact, and also presumably by way of further cementing the Entente Cordiale, it was announced that in the afternoon there would be a special service in the cathedral to invoke the Divine aid for the success of the Allied arms. All British soldiers were invited to be present, and long before the advertised time of the service the cathedral was packed, and, looking down its long nave, presented in appearance a solid mass of khaki. The service opened by the singing of "God Save the King," in which the whole congregation were asked to join. The National Anthem was accompanied by the organ and conducted by an aged priest, who stood at the chancel steps beneath a life-size statue of Joan of Arc, and never, I thought, had there been such an assembly under such strange circumstances. Here were a thousand or so English soldiers of all ranks, from General Officers to privates, and a sprinkling of French soldiers, singing the National Anthem while facing a statue of Joan of Arc, her arms outstretched as if in the act of pleading. And all this in a Catholic cathedral in France, which still held protruding from its outer walls cannon-balls accurately placed there by a piece of Marlborough's artillery in a former and somewhat different campaign. Incidentally, several similar cannon-balls were dug up in a field adjoining the railhead, in the course of excavations made in connection with the Native abattoir, which I have referred to in a previous chapter. That priest was nothing if not thorough, for he conducted the congregation through all the verses of the National Anthem, and it must be admitted to our national shame that the majority present knew no more than the words of the first verse, and I think these words did duty for all the remaining ones! The Bishop, who preached, again and again addressed himself to "Messieurs les Anglais," reminding his hearers that the great armies of France and Great Britain were fighting side by side in brotherhood for the liberties of Europe. He also laid frequent emphasis on the help which Great Britain had extended to France in her hour of need, and paid a glowing tribute to "Sa Majesté le Roi George de Grande-Bretagne."There was nearly always something of interest going on at Aire. On the broad canal the many barges presented a picturesque sight. The French, unlike us, make the greatest possible use of their canals and waterways, and their barges would, I think, put anything of the kind that one might see on the Thames quite in the shade. The use of these barges has been invaluable to our Army: some have been lavishly fitted up as Red Cross barges, and, in charge of officers of the Royal Army Medical Corps, gently bear down the more seriously wounded from the front to the casualty clearing hospitals, in a degree of comfort that could not possibly be approached by motor ambulance cars on bad roads. These lavishly equipped hospital barges are indeed worthy of comparison with our magnificent ambulance trains running on the French State railways between the casualty clearing hospitals and the base. Any one who has studied the map and knows the position of La Bassée Canal will at once realize of what use this waterway has been as a means of evacuating wounded. Among otherdivertissementsthere duly arrived at Aire a flotilla of motor-gunboats, commanded by a real live Admiral, with his second in command, a celebrated surgeon and bone-setter from Harley Street. Amongst the other officers of the flotilla was Earl de la Warr, who has since lost his life in the service of his country in another quarter of the globe. His own yacht, having been armed and suitably fitted up, formed one of the flotilla. The gunboats were anchored in the canal at Aire for some time. Exactly what they were intended to do we never actually discovered. In the end they did nothing, but departed as mysteriously as they had arrived. We heard at a later date that some had gone to the Dardanelles, and others were being used for spotting German submarines in the English Channel, a job for which, judging by their speed, size, and light draught, they must be eminently suitable. Whilst the gunboats were at Aire, I spent some cheery evenings in the wardroom with the gallant members of the Royal Naval Volunteer Reserve who officered them—the second in command not infrequently himself cooking the dinner on board. Aire having been before the war a training centre of the French Army, boasted a very good rifle-range, and here our lorry drivers were instructed in the use of the rifle.In those days drafts of troops, arriving from home, used to be frequently detrained at Aire and other stations in its vicinity, and great interest and excitement was evinced at the arrival of the famous 1st Division of the new Armies to come to France, who marched through on their way up to the trenches. A finer set of men, in the uniforms of almost every Scottish regiment, it would have been difficult to imagine, as one saw them file through the narrow streets of this old town.Judging by the many substantial buildings which have been erected for various purposes and the enterprises started in the war area, one would imagine that the war was really a permanent institution. Amongst those that should be mentioned are the Y.M.C.A. Huts and the Expeditionary Field Force Canteens. In the former, which are to be found in all towns behind the line of any size, the soldier is always sure of a welcome and is able to obtain refreshments, read the papers, and write his letters. Pens, ink, and paper are provided free. The good work that the Y.M.C.A. has accomplished out here is simply magnificent and meets with much appreciation. The Expeditionary Field Force Canteens, of which there are now quite a large number, are veritable diminutive Harrod's Stores; in them can be purchased by officers and men every imaginable thing, from soap and writing-paper to tinned fruit and cigarettes, all at particularly low prices, especially, of course, tobacco and cigarettes, which are exported from England in bond free of duty. Even at the extremely low prices prevailing after paying current expenses and establishment charges, etc., a profit is made, and this is devoted to the alleviation of distress amongst the dependents of soldiers fallen in battle. Surely a worthy object.Boxing and, of course, especially football are very popular behind the line, often much to the evident amazement of the French population, who are in a few cases averse to lending their fields for the purpose, which they naturally consider may be spoilt as pasture land.Amongst other amusements, some little time ago, the Indian Cavalry Corps was presented with a cinematograph machine. An electric motor to drive it was provided by the Indian Soldiers' Fund. The whole equipment is mounted and carried on a motor-lorry. Frequent changes of pictures are obtained from London, and when times are quiet the lorry travels from unit to unit, giving periodic exhibitions for the amusement of officers and men, the screen being erected in a suitable barn or, when weather permits, out of doors.Aire was also not without its amusements, both aquatic and equestrian. It boasted of one of the best open-air swimming-baths I have ever seen. As the summer of 1915 approached, we looked at it expectantly, and very soon the officer commanding a Reserve Ammunition Park, which was at that time in a state of immobility and compulsory idleness, was placed in charge of the bath. With considerable enterprise and some perseverance he succeeded in clearing it of weeds and rushes, and thus it became a splendid bathing-place, adding considerably to the enjoyment of officers and men alike, who were fortunate enough to be able to take advantage of it. Towards the end of July a very fine programme of aquatic sports was put up and extremely well run, the band of the aforesaid Ammunition Park assisting in no small degree towards the success of this enterprise. That band of string, wood, and brass instruments, as a "volunteer" orchestra on active service, was really an achievement. It not only did duty for such shows as this, but on Sunday mornings regularly occupied the band-stand in the centre of the Grande Place during Church Parade, at which Sir Douglas Haig, at that time the General Commanding the 1st Army, was frequently present. At a later date His Majesty the King attended a Church Parade in this Grande Place.During the summer two horse shows were arranged by the Indian Cavalry Corps. The first was a competitive meeting in which French cavalry also participated, and was attended by civilian inhabitants and officers and men who were anywhere within reasonable distance of it at the time. A military French-horn band and a British regimental band assisted. The sight of the Royal Horse Artillery batteries going round the course at the gallop to the music of the band, and the traditional smartness of their "turn out," was one which once seen could not easily be forgotten, together with a number of riding and jumping competitions, reminiscent as they were of the Royal Naval and Military Tournament in London.The second show was more in the nature of an exhibition of feats of horsemaster-ship by the Natives, and was arranged for the pleasure of their Majesties the King and Queen of the Belgians, accompanied by their son, the Duke of Brabant, and by Admiral Lord Charles Beresford, who were evidently much impressed, as were all spectators, by the Natives' prowess as horsemen.It is interesting to note that on this occasion King Albert wore the khaki uniform and Sam Brown belt of a British officer. His son was in the uniform of a private of the Belgian Army, and stood at attention as he watched the show, smartly saluting all officers as they were presented to the King. He is now an Eton boy, and when his picture appeared recently in the illustrated papers, standing beside Prince Henry, the son of our own King, my mind harked back to that horse show and this strange contrast.Lord Charles Beresford was wearing khaki slacks and field service tunic, with badges of a Colonel of Royal Marines, and any one who knows the gallant Admiral by sight will at once appreciate how picturesque he looked on this occasion.The course was in a large field of very green pasture land, roped in and marked out with flags. The setting of the whole scene could not have been more beautiful. The field was surrounded with woods, and a typical French château stood at one end.The various competitive events were, as I have already remarked, not confined to the Indian Cavalry Corps; officers of both British and French cavalry regiments participated, and the many different bright scarlet and blue uniforms worn by officers of French cavalry, together with the red and gold cap-bands and gorgets of British Generals and Staff and their many rows of ribbons, showed up as bright spots of colour amongst the crowd of khaki-clad soldiers, making the whole scene a really picturesque one.The uniform of French cavalry officers, before the introduction of the universal pale blue uniform, was a creation truly marvellous; perhaps that is why they were the last to adopt the new field service dress. It consisted in bright red breeches, sky-blue short tunic with silver buttons, red and white facings distinguishing the chasseur from the dragoon; jack-boots and long spurs; a forage cap of sky blue, with silver-braid badges of rank. My description may not be quite accurate in its details; nevertheless, it is the impression left in my mind of the full-dress uniform of these gallant officers. Also there were present cuirassiers, with their breast-plates and helmets, from the back of which hung long crimson horsehair plumes.One evening at Aire, another officer and myself were taking an after-dinner stroll along the road which leads to Berguette. We were discussing matters far removed from war, when our conversation and the peacefulness of a moonlight summer night were disturbed by a terrific explosion, which appeared to be quite close. It was followed by several more in quick succession. We stood still and, gazing upwards, could see nothing, though we heard the hum of an aeroplane or airship overhead in the distance. Returning to Aire, we found the inhabitants all out in the streets trying to catch a glimpse of the hostile aircraft. "Zeppelin" they murmured with one accord. Owing to the stillness of the night, the buzz of the engine certainly sounded louder than that of the usual aeroplane, which, however, it turned out to be. The damage done was insignificant. One or two bombs landed quite near a neighbouring station, which was being used as an ammunition railhead at the time. An ammunition train was standing loaded in a siding, but was untouched. The night-raider did not prolong his visit for very long, and by bedtime all was again quiet.I remember a daylight aeroplane raid at Lillers one day. The Taube, flying very high, tried to bomb the station, but succeeded in damaging only a café just outside it and smashing, by the concussion of the exploding bombs, every pane of glass within a quarter of a mile radius. There were two or three casualties. A Frenchman who was the possessor of one leg only, had it damaged to such an extent that it too had to be amputated, which led him, no doubt, to reflect that troubles seldom come singly!Chapter VIIIFROM BETHUNE TO YPRESWhile we were stationed at Lillers, in the latter part of December 1914, a detachment of the Indian Cavalry was sent up in the rôle of infantry to the trenches beyond Béthune for a short spell, where they reinforced the Lahore and Meerut Divisions, the latter two Divisions comprising the Indian Corps (infantry). This corps was moved to another theatre of war at the beginning of 1916, after having borne the brunt of the fighting through two winters in France and Flanders and suffered many casualties. The cavalry on this occasion gave a good account of themselves in the fighting round Festubert and Givenchy. During the time that they were there we convoyed the motor-lorries with rations for the detachment in the trenches, but although our destination was shelled during this period and was within earshot of rifle fire in the trenches and the "rat-tat-tat" of machine guns, like so many gigantic typewriters at work, we never managed to be actually there whilst any excitement was on.In this neighbourhood are the graves of many gallant Native troops, Gurkhas, Sikhs, Garhwalis, and Pathans of the Indian Corps. Our Dominion troops have rightly won universal praise and admiration for the gallant part they have played in the war and the way they have come forward of their own free will to fight, but it is to be regretted that our Indian troops have in this respect been somewhat neglected. The nature of their loyalty is different somehow to that of any of our other overseas troops. "For East is East, and West is West, and never the twain shall meet." Perhaps it is not generally known that every Native cavalryman provides his own horse or its equivalent value in money on enlistment. I shall never forget the Review of the Indian Cavalry Corps by the Prince of Wales in France; the way they gave "eyes right" as each squadron marched past the Prince left in one the impression that they really meant it and were saluting the future King-Emperor. These contingents, infantry and cavalry alike, came to a far-away, strange, cold land, and to a particularly bleak part of it at that, during the rainiest winter ever experienced in a proverbially wet part of the country, dressed only in their thin Indian khaki, be it remembered. They found themselves taking part in a kind of warfare that was entirely new to them, in deep trenches, frequently up to their middles in water, and always in thick mud and slush, such as they had never experienced before in their lives. Moreover, not only were they unused to shell fire, but they found their own particular methods and tactics of war in open country impossible under such circumstances; yet, in spite of all this, they upheld the fighting traditions of the Indian Army, and stuck it through the very heaviest of the fighting and under the worst climatic conditions it is possible to imagine. I am referring now chiefly to the Indian Infantry Corps.During the nights and days which preceded the battle of Neuve Chapelle we heard guns away in the distance making a continuous bombardment, and a deep roar like thunder rent the air. This was the prelude to the attack. On March 9th Sir Douglas Haig's Special Order to the 1st Army was published.Our minds at this time must have been dwarfed, for the attack on Neuve Chapelle was as nothing in magnitude, compared with subsequent attacks, in the matters of men and guns.The Indian Cavalry Corps was moved up towards the direction of the attack and massed some way behind the line in woods, where they remained "standing to," in co-operation with divisions of British and French cavalry, the whole representing, I believe, the greatest number of mounted troops ever massed together, up to that time.The Supply Column made two or three journeys up on its usual errand, but the cavalry were sent back to the previous billets after a few days, it being found that no opportunity for cavalry fighting had been effected. Although this was the case it must not be thought that the Indian Cavalry Corps were kept entirely in a state of idleness. The —— Divisions of the Corps, under the command of Lieut.-General Rimington, were directly under the orders of General Headquarters, and were available to be attached to any army and sent to any part of the line where it was considered that an opportunity for using them might arise. Meanwhile they did their bit of reserve trench digging in various parts of the line, and many a pleasant summer day I have spent in convoying up the lorries of supplies for the different digging parties, and off-loaded them at various points between Locon and Estaires. The R.H.A. batteries attached to the Corps were almost continually in action at different places, though more in the rôle of Field than of Horse Artillery.The most interesting journeys, from the Supply Column point of view, were when the Indian Cavalry were sent up to the trenches, again in the rôle of infantrymen, to the Ypres Salient. This was in the early summer of 1915, when they reinforced the line immediately after the first German gas attack, from which our line naturally suffered severely through being unprepared for another new and previously unanticipated form of German "Kultur."It is interesting at this point to note that during this time a British Cavalry Regiment, forming part of a Native Cavalry Brigade, assisted in the attack and capture of Hooge Château, which has changed hands so many times.The rendezvous for the motor-lorries on these occasions was at some shelter huts on an open, flat piece of ground, where once grass had grown and now used as a camping-ground for troops recently out of, or about to take their turn in, the trenches just beyond. On it are erected a number of huts, similar to those which can be seen in many parts of England where troops in training have been encamped. A road runs through the middle of this plain, and at a prearranged point on it was the ration dumping-ground. Here the motor-lorries were met by the Supply Officer and their contents off-loaded. The use made by us of this ground as a camp was, of course, not unknown to the Germans, who occasionally favoured it with a certain amount of shelling. On one or two occasions they shelled it at a most inopportune moment. A smoking concert had been got up and was to take place in one of the largest huts. It was to start at 8 p.m., and no sooner had the first performer on the programme mounted the improvised platform than a shell landed just outside; it was followed by several others. There was only one thing to be done, and the senior officer present ordered the hut to be evacuated. So everyone departed, cursing the Huns roundly for being so extremely inconsiderate as to spoil an evening's amusement.One Sunday a Church Parade was being held, and those present were lustily singing a hymn, the opening line of which is, "Stand up, stand up for Jesus." As the words "Stand up" were leaving their lips, a shell came screaming over and exploded near by. Every one, the padre included, instinctively "ducked"!From the rest camp, as from many other points behind the line, an aerial combat is no unusual sight. One hears the drone of the aeroplane engines and sees the hostile machine speeding along over the line, while little white puffs, like flakes of cotton-wool, spring suddenly into being all around it, as the shrapnel shells from anti-aircraft batteries, familiarly known always as "Archies," burst. Or perhaps the gunners may favour it with high explosive shells, which leave little black puffs. On a still day the puffs of smoke linger for several minutes in the blue sky like tiny clouds and gradually disperse. The hostile aeroplane darts hither and thither. All eyes are turned skywards, and the following are the type of comments overheard as the shells burst: "Just a bit too low," "Too far ahead," "The next'll get him," "Got him," "No, he's only doing a dive down into his own lines." Often the whole path which the aeroplane has taken across the sky is literally covered with these little white puffs of shrapnel smoke. I have counted as many as a hundred and eighty, and even then the aeroplane not infrequently escapes without apparent damage. But the Taube does not have things all its own way, for one or more of our own 'planes rise to attack, and if one is very lucky one sees it descend with a long and rapid dive—nose first, in flames, a tangled mass of framework and burning canvas. An air duel on a clear day is not only wonderful from a spectacular point of view, but the most exciting episode it is possible to witness. If, however, one happens to be directly underneath where the shrapnel shells are bursting and realizes that all that goes up comes down again, one takes more than a spectacular interest in such an incident. By night aviators afford one even greater excitement, trying to spot the hostile machine and locate it by the sound of its engine. Then perhaps a terrific crash as it drops an incendiary bomb, the explosion of which lights up the whole neighbourhood with a dull red glow.The weather all through that month of May 1915 was ideal, and nothing could have looked more beautiful than the long, straight white roads, with their line of tall trees on either side that characterize the Routes Nationales and Routes de Grande Communication, the main arteries leading across the borders of France into Belgium, and which run through miles of intensely cultivated land. The main road from Hazebrouck to Ypres is a typical example of the highways of Flanders; with its strip of raisedpavéin the centre, it is flanked by earth on either side and runs between an avenue of tall and stately poplars. It has been followed by troops from every part of the world over which flies the Union Jack or the Tricolour, and they have marched along it on their way to fight the bloodiest battles of the world's history. The nearer one gets to the trenches, the worse becomes the condition of the roads, and that leading through Poperinghe to Ypres was among the roughest on which I have ever travelled. Leaving Hazebrouck, it gradually became worse and worse as one approached and crossed the frontier of Belgium. Thepavéin the centre is narrow and has a high camber. The earth that borders it on either side is soft, so that it is particularly difficult for two heavy motor-lorries proceeding in opposite directions to pass one another. It is to the credit of British motor-car manufacturers that the lorries and cars with the Expeditionary Force in France have stood up so well on roads such as they were never designed or intended to travel on.They were sad runs these, up to the trenches, where every village through which the convoy passed was suffering more from the devastating effects of shell fire than the last. Every day almost one would notice a change; another church tower a little more damaged, or a house that yesterday was proudly standing and a landmark is a victim to German artillery and a ruined mass to-day. Fewer and fewer buildings left standing, not a piece of glass remaining in any single window frame; the bare walls, perhaps, of a house here and there still standing, but bespattered with shrapnel bullets. The further up one got, the fewer civilian inhabitants one saw, until the last villages, such as Vlamertinghe on the road to Ypres, which had been entirely evacuated by the civilian population, except perhaps for one or two old peasants here and there, who had possibly spent all their lives in their own particular village and intended to continue doing so, even if this entailed living a considerable part of the time in cellars. We often passed little parties of refugees making their way slowly into France, there to throw themselves on the hospitality of their more fortunate friends. Turning their backs for ever on their old homes, which they instinctively knew they had seen for the last time, a whole family, perhaps, the father leading a horse and cart piled up with such odd bits and pieces of household goods as they had managed to save, perhaps all their worldly possessions—a bed, mattress, and a few sticks of furniture—the other members of the family either riding on the cart or following in a sorrowful little procession behind it, their possessions amongst the animal world not being forgotten, but frequently represented by a goat and a few chickens. The further up one got, too, the more congested were the roads with the impedimenta of war: motor-lorries, ambulances, guns, wagons and the like. The Military Police, being stationed on point duty on the more important cross roads, with the aid of red and green flags directed the traffic, and for all the world it was often like a block of vehicular traffic at Piccadilly Circus, the usual accompaniment of language not being forgotten!From the rest huts at Vlamertinghe right into Ypres, or what remained of it, was only a matter of five minutes on a motorcycle. Never have I seen or imagined a sight so tragic. Street after street in a state of absolute wreck and ruin. What had once been beautiful and massive buildings, such as the famous Cloth Hall, which dates from the thirteenth century, and the Church of St. Martin, now heaps of debris and broken glass lying across the road. Houses destroyed, many of them, beyond recognition; some had been set alight by shells and were slowly smouldering; others, with their fronts completely blown away, were still standing and displayed their contents nakedly to the passer-by. Such is the ugliness of war's destruction—the desolation of desolation, deserted by every living soul. Never before have I experienced such a sensation of utter loneliness. This struck me more forcibly, I think, than anything else. If one had searched amongst those ruins, what treasures and what gruesome tragedies might one have encountered! Ypres must once have been a very beautiful city and capital of Flanders; now it was a city of Death. To visit it in 1915 was to see the eighth wonder of the world. Surely it will for ever be haunted by the spirits of the soldiers who have fallen in fighting to hold it. That the Ypres Salient has been consistently held against fearful odds and the heavy attacks which the enemy has made on it, with Calais as his objective, is an everlasting memorial to the valour of British soldiers.I picked up some pieces of coloured glass, which had once formed part of the stained-glass windows of St. Martin's Church, now shattered and littered over the ground around its ruins, to take away as a memento, and as these thoughts were just passing through my mind, a shell whistled overhead and burst with a crash a little distance away and awoke in me a sense of duty. I made my way out of Ypres along the debris-strewn road, containing here and there some fine examples of shell-holes in the middle of it. On the way out I passed what had once been a General Service wagon with horses and riders, now a horrible inert mass of horse-flesh and wheel-spokes—at least, that is the impression that this sight left on my mind. A shell had caught it fair—a direct hit—a few minutes before.Ypres at this time, it will be seen, was by no means a health resort. The long straight road leading into it was shelled regularly as clockwork every day; usually at about five or six o'clock the evening "hate" started. That is what is meant when the official communique states that "artillery fire was directed upon billets, railheads, and communication roads"; for this was a road which much transport loaded with rations, ammunition, and other material for the trenches there travelled along, and in the villages along that road troops on their way up to or out of the trenches were frequently temporarily billeted.Whether it is a peculiarly machine-like working of the German mind or due to the fact that German organization is carried to such limits of mathematical precision I do not know, but the fact remains that this road was normally quite safe except between certain fixed and regular hours each evening. So I was never particularly anxious to delay the return journey of the convoy of empty motor-lorries longer than was absolutely necessary, and used to leave the danger zone as soon as we had off-loaded the rations and secured the Supply Officer's receipt for them. On one occasion only, on the return journey, however, did we have any excitement. We were travelling in convoy along a narrow road leading from the huts up to and at right angles to the main road. Just as we came to the junction of the two a few shells landed in the adjoining field, planted with tall poles, around which twining hops grew, doubtless of the famous Popeninghe brand. A few of these were destroyed, and quantities of earth were thrown up, the shells leaving dense grey-black clouds of smoke in the air, but doing no other damage. We were only just in time, though, that day, for a few hours later a motor-cyclist dispatch rider, who had come along the same road, caught up the convoy at Hazebrouck and told me that further back the road was being heavily shelled.The saddest sight of all is just behind the line, in those roadside fields where rest the fallen. No matter to what part of the line one goes, but particularly behind Ypres—and nowhere scarcely along the whole front has the fighting been heavier than on this bit of the British line—one sees clustered together in groups here and there the little wooden crosses which mark the graves of those of whom Robert Louis Stevenson wrote, "They despised Death and have won their discharge." They are cared for now and duly registered, and as far as possible inscribed with names and dates by that excellent department, the Graves Registration Committee at General Headquarters. "Oh, Cromwell's England, must thou yield for every inch of ground a son?" asks the poet; and these little graves will for ever remain, silent witnesses to the fact that here Death once reaped a rich harvest.
Chapter V
THE MOTOR-LORRY CONVOY
Our duties continued daily, with one or two exceptions, in an unbroken monotony for the remainder of the winter, loading the supply lorries at railhead one day and taking them out in convoy the next, to deliver the supplies to the troops who were billeted in the surrounding villages.
What cold journeys those convoy jobs used to be too! The front seat of a lorry leading a convoy, on a frosty, snowy, windy or wet day, is no place for a joy ride, and the only alternative for a section officer, namely, a motor-bicycle on a muddy or dusty road, as the case may be, is not much better. The mud of the trenches in winter has become proverbial, but it is not confined to them: it exists on the roads behind the line as well. It must be seen to be believed! Take any good main country road, that for years has been used merely by a few farmers' carts and periodically perhaps by a small amount of motor-car traffic; suddenly start running over it several hundred heavily loaded motor-lorries, ambulances, general service wagons drawn by teams of four horses, not to mention sundry motor-cars, motor-bicycles, and several batteries of artillery; continue to do this every day for a few months, in winter for choice; let the heavens pour forth torrents of rain, fairly continuously day and night, as was the case during the winter months of 1914; let the road be made on a clay soil and ill-drained, perhaps not drained at all artificially—the one and only result in due course will be a road full of pot holes and ankle-deep with mud and slush. This is no exaggeration; it is exactly what has happened to the roads on which we have to travel behind the trenches. The only wonder is that they have stood such a severe test so well. In summer, of course, they are correspondingly dusty, and it is an open question which is the lesser of the two evils—to get oneself splashed from head to foot with mud, or almost choked with dust. The user of the roads that one pities most, though it must be admitted he appears to be perfectly happy and contented with his job, is the motor cyclist dispatch rider. Clad in leather overalls with map-case hanging from one shoulder, dispatch case from the other, and revolver attached to his belt, he dashes along the worst roads, frequently into the danger zone, wet or fine, day or night, winter or summer, at lightning speed, nevertheless finding time as he goes to salute any officer he may chance to meet or overtake. This he accomplishes by turning his head and eyes smartly in the direction of the officer to whom he is paying the compliment, at the same time proceeding at considerable speed in a direction at right angles to that towards which he has turned his head whilst saluting. Such courtesy surely deserves appreciation from the officer!
Cases of motor-lorries being "ditched" or stuck in thick and squelching mud at the side of the road are not unknown, though, of course, during the succeeding winters they were less prevalent than in 1914, through greater expertness, born of continued practice and more experience on the part of the drivers in handling their lorries. Still, the liability to stick in a convenient ditch is always present in bad weather on narrow country roads, and during the temporary pause of the lorry thus caused, the greater the effort exerted by the driver and engine to extract it, the more briskly the rear wheels revolve in the mud without advancing the lorry, and the worse becomes the "ditching." Non-skid chains that can be easily fitted in such an emergency have proved themselves an invaluable aid. With these securely fixed on the offending wheel or wheels and another lorry in front, attached to the defaulter by towing chains, the latter is soon on the crown of the road once more and able to continue its journey.
All convoys are run strictly in accordance with orders, and the cardinal principles are briefly that lorries running in convoy must keep twenty-five yards, approximately, apart and not travel at a greater speed than ten miles per hour, even this being reduced on passing troops on the march or going through a village or town. Since the convoy must keep together, its speed must therefore necessarily be the speed of its slowest vehicle, and the method of keeping a convoy together and thus preventing lorries taking a wrong road or getting lost is a very simple one. In addition to the driver, each lorry has a driver's mate, who rides inside the body of the vehicle just behind the tailboard, and as soon as the vehicle immediately in rear of him stops, he signals to his driver to pull up. Thus the driver of the lorry immediately in front will receive the same message from his mate, namely, that the lorry immediately behind him has stopped, and in a very few minutes the whole column of vehicles will be at a standstill. Instances of such a stoppage occurred in the event of a lorry in the column suffering from any mechanical breakdown during the course of its journey or meeting with a mishap of any kind on the road. It is also the job of the "look-out" man in the back of the lorry to warn the driver, by means of the communication cord, when vehicles approaching from the rear desire to overtake the convoy, so that the driver can be immediately warned to pull off the centre of the road and thus enable the faster-moving vehicle to pass. The idea of the communication cord is a good one; on these occasions it makes outbursts of fiery language from Staff officers in cars, who are in a hurry, superfluous.
The tendency of drivers of all forms of motor vehicles is, and I suppose always will be, to drive too fast, exceeding the speed limit, whether the nature of the road and other circumstances allow or not. The condition of the roads within the war zone is such that to drive too fast spells broken springs, to mention only one result. Severe disciplinary action has become necessary, and with this in view Assistant Provost Marshals have a way of employing military police with stop-watches in the old and approved method of the Portsmouth and Brighton roads. I heard of one trap which was set on a little stretch of road that was within view and under enemy observation. At this particular spot the military police made some easy captures. All roads are under the supervision of the military police, who direct all traffic. Each army issues a Traffic Map of the area in which it is operating, and this is in possession of all officers in charge of convoys. On it, roads over which, owing to their broadness, traffic is allowed to travel from both directions are marked in a certain way; narrower roads, over which it is only allowed to proceed one way, are otherwise indicated on the map. This road control, though often an inconvenience, necessitating a long detour, in some cases, to reach a certain place, in order to avoid going against the orders, is absolutely essential. Without it, blocks in the traffic, ditching in narrow roads, and consequent delay, would be of frequent occurrence.
All lorries are, of course, inscribed with a W.D. number, duly registered at G.H.Q., and from this their histories can be immediately traced. Different supply columns and ammunition parks choose and register distinguishing marks of their own—almost like trade-marks: the Bee, Bluebird, Black Cat, Bulldog, are all to be seen, to give only a few examples. The origin of these distinctive marks is a matter of some interest. When the 1st Indian Cavalry Supply Column arrived in France in November 1914, there were, of course, far fewer lorries in the country than there are to-day. At this time there was a General Routine Order to the effect that all motor-lorries were to have affixed to the outside of their tailboards a large white card, 15 inches square, with a red danger bull's-eye, 6 inches in diameter, in the centre of the card. Cards of this size and description were accordingly issued, one to each lorry, to be nailed on the back, the idea being that, at night especially, the driver of a lorry would be able to distinguish a lorry in front by the aid of his headlights shining on to the bull's-eye and thus avoid collision. The idea was a good one, but the inventor did not take into account the weather conditions that prevailed during the winter of 1914 in the North of France, for in less than no time the cards became pulp, destroyed by the constant rain. We therefore did away with the cards and painted lasting facsimiles in red and white where the cards had been. But even this was not everything that was required, as the lorries of our Supply Column were not easily distinguishable from those of others. To overcome this, a special mark was painted over the bull's-eye and square. This was the origin of all the distinguishing marks in existence at present amongst the various —— Supply Columns and Parks.
Every lorry and car is equipped with a complement of tools, necessary for adjustments and the carrying out of roadside repairs. The tools are all entered up in the log-book with which each vehicle is provided for the purpose, the driver signing a receipt for them in it, when taking over the vehicle, and having to make good any deficiencies that can be traced to his own neglect when he is transferred to a different vehicle and "hands over" to the driver succeeding him.
The multifarious duties of the motor-lorry convoys continue in all weathers and at all times of day and night. Carrying as they do every imaginable material, from bread and meat to stones and coal, they do not work by time-tables, nor do definite hours end and begin their day's work, so that a high-pressure state of readiness has to be constantly maintained, this being only possible by perfect organization and the closest attention to the most minute details, which can alone pave the way to thoroughness.
The duties of the Army Service Corps in peace-times are many and various, and the inauguration of hundreds of mechanical transport units since the outbreak of war has multiplied in every possible way the duties which previously existed, and considerably enlarged its scope of action and power of assistance to the armies in the field. Its many phases, and the important part that it plays in the commissariat of our armies, cause the Army Service Corps to be an integral part of the fighting machine. From a Departmental Corps it has become an army in itself, with many thousands of officers. Its spheres of operation with the Expeditionary Force in France alone are of such a magnitude as could never have been adequately realized before the war. It will be seen, therefore, that thousands of mechanically propelled vehicles, from motor-cycles to huge tractors, are employed in this vast undertaking. This necessitates supply depots, where are kept stocks of tyres, spare parts, tools, and reserves of all kinds of stores, such as oil, petrol, etc., essential to the maintenance of this huge system in the desired state of efficiency, so that it is capable of promptly satisfying the many and constant demands which are made daily by officers commanding mechanical transport units in the field. The organization now existing does credit to its originators. For the original Expeditionary Force, motor-vans and such-like suitable vehicles were hurriedly impressed, and of them Supply Columns, Ammunition Parks and such-like units were rapidly formed and dispatched to France. So one would, in those early days, frequently meet on the road a convoy composed of miscellaneous vehicles of various makes, brewers' drays, grocers' vans, etc., still bearing the names, in blazing letters, of their former owners, and the nature of the load they had previously carried. The London General Omnibuses and their drivers, which were previous to the war subsidized by the Government, continued for some time to run along the roads of Flanders loaded with troops, still displaying their former route through London. "Piccadilly-Strand-Bank" routes were to be seen, whilst many of them continued to advertise the Revue at the "Empire" and the fact that it started at "8.30 p.m. every evening."
But times have changed, and convoys are now composed, not of miscellaneous subsidized or impressed vehicles, but of standard motor-lorries; each convoy made up of vehicles of the same make, each painted a uniform colour, and all of exactly similar appearance, groomed and turned out like a regiment on parade.
Chapter VI
THE WORKSHOPS
Any account of the working and organization of a unit in the field, composed of mechanically propelled vehicles, would be incomplete unless it contained a description of the mobile repair workshops which form such an important part of it. So vital are they that without their aid, and the skilful application of the tools they embody, the Supply Column—if such, for example, be the nature of the unit—would become hopelessly crippled and inefficient as a natural course of events. The question will possibly arise in the reader's mind, "How are the two hundred odd motor-lorries, cars, ambulances, and motor-cycles attached to a Division whilst on service at the front, and which from the General's car to the machine of the motor-cyclist dispatch rider are all of necessity subjected to such hard wear and tear, maintained in a state of efficiency and 'running order'?" I have alluded briefly to the workshops of the —— Indian Cavalry Division Supply Column, and in this chapter I shall endeavour to give a more or less complete description of them—the work they perform and the results they achieve in the general scheme of things. The workshop section of a Cavalry Supply Column has an artificer personnel made up of fitters, turners, blacksmiths, electricians, and carpenters—the latter known in Army parlance as "wheelers." The equipment consists in four mobile workshops and four store lorries. Dealing firstly with the workshops themselves: the type of lorry employed is usually a Silent Knight Daimler or Leyland, propelled by a 40-h.p. engine. Surmounting the chassis is a platform, on which is erected a four-sided and closed-in body; the two sides are made so that they can be opened out at will and secured horizontally by wood supports. The top half of each side, opening upwards, forms an extension to the roof, and the lower half, being let down, extends the platform or floor-space. The back and front are fixed vertically upright, the latter immediately behind the driver's seat. Inside the body on the wooden platform are mounted a lathe, drilling machine, tool-grinding machine, also fitter's bench and vices, together with the accompanying small hand tools. A petrol engine direct coupled to a dynamo drives the lathe, drilling machine, etc. Such, briefly, is the arrangement of the standard mechanical transport mobile workshops. Our Workshops Officer, however, was not satisfied and sought to improve upon it. This he has accomplished in the following way. In the first place he has made structural alterations to the workshop lorry bodies so as to take fuller advantage of the possible floor-space. To do this he has extended the front end of the body from the back of the driver's seat to the dashboard of the lorry. Secondly, he has eliminated the stationary petrol engine, and instead employs the engine in the lorry chassis to drive the lathe, drilling machine, and other machine tools. The system of driving the machine tools from the lorry engine is by means of a triple set of whittle belts to the dynamo, and thence the power is transmitted to the machines. The speed of the engine is maintained constant by a specially designed centrifugal governor. Imitation being the sincerest form of flattery, this system of drive in one form or another has since been copied in many workshops of the mechanical transport units in France. In addition to the workshop lorries, O.C. Workshops has a two-wheeled "trailer" of his own design and construction, which when the column is on the move is coupled up to one of the workshop lorries and towed by the latter. It is designed to carry two spare engines complete. When stationary, it acts as a fitting, erecting, and engine-testing bench, and on it all lorry engines are overhauled and refitted as occasion requires. On the trailer is fixed a crane, which enables the engine that is to be overhauled to be lifted direct from its lorry chassis and placed on the trailer. Conversely, the crane replaces the reconstructed engine into its chassis, time and labour occupied by the operation being considerably reduced by the use of this device as compared with manual labour and pulley blocks. The time during which the lorry is out of action is appreciably reduced; it becomes a matter of hours instead of days, for the engine that is removed from the chassis for overhauling purposes is replaced for the time being by one of the engines which is in running order carried on the trailer. Moreover, without the mechanical advantage gained by the use of the trailer and crane, the operation would naturally take very considerably longer and the lorry be out of action for a proportionately longer period.
The O.C. Workshops has also designed and constructed numerous other time- and labour-saving appliances; for example, he has made extensions to lathes, enabling almost any part of a lorry to be machined in them when required.
To enable the blacksmiths to tackle any job that might be required, he has made and fitted up an electrically driven "Roots" blower. Thus it is only necessary to build up a hearth of bricks and mud, set up the blower, switch on the electric current, and a roaring welding fire within a few minutes is the result. Although these workshops are designated "mobile," and only intended for the carrying out of simple and "running" repairs, the blacksmiths have literally forged axles by the roadsides. Amongst other appliances must be mentioned the brass furnace, in which is melted up all old scrap, such as used up phosphor or bronze bearings, etc., and from such metal, when poured, castings are made of every conceivable brass part of a car or lorry that could be required. It is not uncommon for 2 cwt. of metal to be "run" in a day from this furnace and cast into moulds, the necessary "patterns" from which the castings are moulded being also made by artificers of the workshops.
The net result of such well-equipped workshops is that during the whole time that the column has been in France it has not been found necessary to return a single vehicle to the Base Depot for replacement. Every repair has been carried out "in the field" by the column workshops. The non-evacuation of a single lorry is a record held by the —— Indian Cavalry Division Supply Column, and the fact is the more remarkable since over half of the lorries are, as I have previously stated, ex-London General buses.
It will be seen at once from the brief description I have given of the workshops appliances that at any time, day or night, and in any place, be it even by the roadside, it is only necessary to start up the engines and the whole unit is set in motion, and is immediately in full working order—at night, illuminated throughout by a blaze of electric incandescent lamps, the current being generated by the self-same workshop lorry engine.
The workshop artificers are all specially enlisted and skilled workmen at their particular jobs, and with the tools and appliances at their disposal, there is no job that they would not be prepared to tackle. One of the difficulties of mechanical transport vehicles and motor-cars has been the question of road "springs." Owing to having to carry heavy loads on rough roads, these were found to occasionally break a leaf or two, and thus put the vehicle out of action. For this reason the O.C. Workshops not only makes sets of springs, but hardens and tempers them; an operation which, being an art in itself, requires considerable skill. He has constructed a special hardening furnace for this purpose.
Apart from the many jobs necessary to keep all the motor vehicles of the Division, the Supply Column motor-lorries and cars, all the motor ambulances, motor-cycles and Divisional Staff cars, the total number amounting to over two hundred in the case of a Cavalry Division, in a state of running order and constant efficiency, the following, to mention only a few, are samples of the jobs which have been undertaken and accomplished: the making of 3-inch shells, hand grenades, "discs" for motor-car wheels, automatic barbed-wire cutters, and last, though not least, a silver christening cup, which was presented by the officers of the column to one of our number, as a gift from them for his son and heir, who was born very shortly after our arrival in France. In order to make this cup, first of all a wooden pattern was made; a quantity of old silver spoons, forks, and other articles were then melted up in the furnace, and the cup cast from the pattern. It was then turned up and polished in a lathe, the result being a handsome goblet, 18 inches in height and weighing 1 1/2 lb. The O.C. Workshops and his artificers delight in making any special article which calls for exceptional skill and ingenuity; there are sometimes days when possibly the workshops are not particularly overburdened with work, and "fancy" jobs such as the above serve to keep the artificers' hands "in," and the efficiency of the tools and machines up to high-water mark.
As I have already explained, although the workshops are designated "mobile," which term implies that they can be moved from place to place as the position of the column changes, and also suggests that they are only intended for carrying out "running" repairs, they are now the most complete and up-to-date engineering works for the size that it is possible to imagine. They are able to carry out all the operations of any engineering works, from the preparation of designs and drawings, patterns, castings, and forgings, etc., to the fitting together of the complete article. Every workshop tool and appliance is marked with a number, which identifies the workshop lorry to which it belongs, so that in the event of the column receiving an order to suddenly move, which is, in fact, frequently the case, the entire equipment can be packed up and the workshops are on the road in less than a couple of hours from the time the order to move is received. There is a place for everything, and everything has been designed and constructed to fit in its place. It is, of course, necessary to have always at hand a considerable quantity of workshop stores in the form of spare parts, tools, sparking-plugs, bolts, nuts and the like; these are carried in the store lorries, which have closed-in bodies, the interior of the bodies being fitted out with pigeon-holes and compartments for the purpose. The store lorries are four in number; they also serve as offices for the storekeepers and clerks, and in them all office work connected with the organization of the workshops is carried out. In order to enable this to be done, the O.C. Workshops has fitted them with an office table apiece and large side windows to admit light and air, two necessaries which the original designers must have overlooked! The lorry which serves as his own office he has fitted up with an office-chair and table, cupboards, an aluminium wash-hand basin, which was cast from scrap aluminium, a gas stove, and hot-water supply apparatus, the whole equipment having been made throughout in the workshops. The interior of the lorry is also, of course, lit with electricity, and thus the O.C. Workshops is enabled to carry on his work in comfort day or night, summer or winter.
Chapter VII
LIFE BEHIND THE LINE
During our stay at Fouqtiereuil, which was not, however, of long duration, we saw and heard things that to most of us, at any rate, were quite new. In the distance artillery was continually booming away, and at night the brilliant flashes of the star-shells over the trenches beyond us lit up the sky. It was not uncommon any day to see an aeroplane in the distance, followed in its passage across the sky by little puffs of white smoke, the phenomenon caused by shrapnel shells loosed off by our anti-aircraft guns on land at a hostile Taube, bursting all around it.
Our next move was to Lillers, where we remained only for a short time also. Of our journeys and convoys from this railhead I give some account in a following chapter. A few days before the end of December, railhead was again moved, this time to Berguette, and here we spent our first Christmas Day. Our mess was a room in a small empty house, which certainly looked cheerless enough when we first saw it, but the O.C. Workshops very soon, with the assistance of his able artificers, produced a table and forms, rigged up a thoroughly efficient acetylene lighting plant and also a fire-grate; this latter was really a masterpiece of blacksmiths' art.
With these and many luxuries in the form of Christmas puddings and cakes sent by fond relatives at home, not forgetting a turkey locally acquired by the C.O., and some champagne of doubtful vintage, we managed to do ourselves proud. In all the different places in which we have been stationed, whether our mess has been a brickyard, a deserted house, a barn or a tent, the ingenuity of O.C. Workshops and his contrivances to produce light, heat, and such-like cardinal comforts have never failed us. A man who has spent years in the wilds of Africa and is accustomed to making himself always comfortable and thoroughly at home amid the most unpromising surroundings—even amongst the haunts of the man-eating lions of Tsavo or the snowy summits of the Klondyke—and who is also an engineer and an inventive genius, is a distinct acquisition to any unit on active service.
The artistic touch also we do not usually omit, for whenever possible we decorate the faded wall-paper of the messroom with a selection of Raphael Kirchner's fair "Parisiennes"—those charming vivandiêres of the trenches, dressed with that economy which is so very French!
A day or two before the end of the year railhead was again moved. This time to Aire-sur-la-Lys, where we were destined to stay for some months. Aire is one of those quaint, old-fashioned little towns of which there are so many in the Northern departments of France, with its largepavéGrande Place or open market square bordered by shops, and squared off at one end by an imposing Hôtel de Ville. I must not forget that here also is the Café du Commerce, which in due course became a recognized rendezvous for officers between the hours of six and eight every evening, and where Madame and Mdlle Chermeux dispensed many delectableapéritifs.
Aire contains one or two good examples of sixteenth-century Spanish architecture, and a large, square-towered and massive cathedral, which has been restored and added to until it seems to embody many types of architecture, and incidentally contains some very fine and beautifully coloured stained-glass windows, the interior effect of these in the long, dark nave being somewhat nullified by the amount of cheap and gaudy decoration, gilt paint and such-like, on walls and pillars, alas! so noticeable in many cathedrals and big churches in France.
Not very far from this cathedral a number of our motor-lorries were parked. The town boasted of many good billets, as is usual in small towns of this sort. The rank and file sleep usually in their lorries. These can, by a man with a little ingenuity, be made quite comfortable resting-places, by rigging up inside the vehicle a hammock or other similar contrivance. With the tail-board up the cold is more or less kept out, and the tarpaulin cover, which is stretched over the top of long oval-shaped, channel iron supports, roofs in the vehicle and protects the sleeper from rain and other indiscretions of the weather. Other accommodation in the shape of empty warehouses is usually available, or billets in private houses—if the men care to go to the expense of paying for them—are not disallowed. In the smaller villages matters become somewhat different, the only opportunity for additional cover consisting usually in the inevitable farmhouse mud-walled barns. These are seldom weather-proof, and frequently their hospitality must be shared with many rats which also make them their dwelling-place.
French farms are curiously arranged places. In the North of France, at any rate, they are invariably one-storied buildings of rectangular shape surrounding a farmyard with a dung-heap. Near the dung-heap is frequently a pump, so it is not to be wondered at that the greatest care has to be taken in treating water before it is used for drinking purposes by the troops. This is accomplished by large movable chemically charged filters, mounted on wheels and towed by wagon or motor-lorry from place to place as necessity may require. In any place where troops are billeted it becomes necessary to immediately construct incinerators, either of brick or metal, where all rubbish in the shape of empty jam-tins, garbage, etc., can be destroyed and, after being thus burnt, is buried. The result is that ground in France, after being occupied by British troops, is generally left by them in a better state of sanitation than they found it, owing to the measures taken to drain any stagnant water and the free use of chemical disinfectants over any doubtful soil or drainage. The French peasants sometimes express surprise at the precautions taken by the British Army to avoid insanitation, and at the fact that all refuse is buried after being burnt. Owing to the latter we have sometimes been described asles chats, the peasants apparently assuming that we have learnt this idea from the habits of the amiable members of the feline tribe.
All such undertakings are carried out by that most necessary and efficient party of men known as the Sanitary Squad.
But to leave the subject of billeting areas in general and return to the town of Aire and the attractions it offered. I shall not forget the first Sunday—the first of the New Year, 1915—which we spent there. Besides ourselves there were considerable numbers of troops stationed in the vicinity at the time, and in honour of this fact, and also presumably by way of further cementing the Entente Cordiale, it was announced that in the afternoon there would be a special service in the cathedral to invoke the Divine aid for the success of the Allied arms. All British soldiers were invited to be present, and long before the advertised time of the service the cathedral was packed, and, looking down its long nave, presented in appearance a solid mass of khaki. The service opened by the singing of "God Save the King," in which the whole congregation were asked to join. The National Anthem was accompanied by the organ and conducted by an aged priest, who stood at the chancel steps beneath a life-size statue of Joan of Arc, and never, I thought, had there been such an assembly under such strange circumstances. Here were a thousand or so English soldiers of all ranks, from General Officers to privates, and a sprinkling of French soldiers, singing the National Anthem while facing a statue of Joan of Arc, her arms outstretched as if in the act of pleading. And all this in a Catholic cathedral in France, which still held protruding from its outer walls cannon-balls accurately placed there by a piece of Marlborough's artillery in a former and somewhat different campaign. Incidentally, several similar cannon-balls were dug up in a field adjoining the railhead, in the course of excavations made in connection with the Native abattoir, which I have referred to in a previous chapter. That priest was nothing if not thorough, for he conducted the congregation through all the verses of the National Anthem, and it must be admitted to our national shame that the majority present knew no more than the words of the first verse, and I think these words did duty for all the remaining ones! The Bishop, who preached, again and again addressed himself to "Messieurs les Anglais," reminding his hearers that the great armies of France and Great Britain were fighting side by side in brotherhood for the liberties of Europe. He also laid frequent emphasis on the help which Great Britain had extended to France in her hour of need, and paid a glowing tribute to "Sa Majesté le Roi George de Grande-Bretagne."
There was nearly always something of interest going on at Aire. On the broad canal the many barges presented a picturesque sight. The French, unlike us, make the greatest possible use of their canals and waterways, and their barges would, I think, put anything of the kind that one might see on the Thames quite in the shade. The use of these barges has been invaluable to our Army: some have been lavishly fitted up as Red Cross barges, and, in charge of officers of the Royal Army Medical Corps, gently bear down the more seriously wounded from the front to the casualty clearing hospitals, in a degree of comfort that could not possibly be approached by motor ambulance cars on bad roads. These lavishly equipped hospital barges are indeed worthy of comparison with our magnificent ambulance trains running on the French State railways between the casualty clearing hospitals and the base. Any one who has studied the map and knows the position of La Bassée Canal will at once realize of what use this waterway has been as a means of evacuating wounded. Among otherdivertissementsthere duly arrived at Aire a flotilla of motor-gunboats, commanded by a real live Admiral, with his second in command, a celebrated surgeon and bone-setter from Harley Street. Amongst the other officers of the flotilla was Earl de la Warr, who has since lost his life in the service of his country in another quarter of the globe. His own yacht, having been armed and suitably fitted up, formed one of the flotilla. The gunboats were anchored in the canal at Aire for some time. Exactly what they were intended to do we never actually discovered. In the end they did nothing, but departed as mysteriously as they had arrived. We heard at a later date that some had gone to the Dardanelles, and others were being used for spotting German submarines in the English Channel, a job for which, judging by their speed, size, and light draught, they must be eminently suitable. Whilst the gunboats were at Aire, I spent some cheery evenings in the wardroom with the gallant members of the Royal Naval Volunteer Reserve who officered them—the second in command not infrequently himself cooking the dinner on board. Aire having been before the war a training centre of the French Army, boasted a very good rifle-range, and here our lorry drivers were instructed in the use of the rifle.
In those days drafts of troops, arriving from home, used to be frequently detrained at Aire and other stations in its vicinity, and great interest and excitement was evinced at the arrival of the famous 1st Division of the new Armies to come to France, who marched through on their way up to the trenches. A finer set of men, in the uniforms of almost every Scottish regiment, it would have been difficult to imagine, as one saw them file through the narrow streets of this old town.
Judging by the many substantial buildings which have been erected for various purposes and the enterprises started in the war area, one would imagine that the war was really a permanent institution. Amongst those that should be mentioned are the Y.M.C.A. Huts and the Expeditionary Field Force Canteens. In the former, which are to be found in all towns behind the line of any size, the soldier is always sure of a welcome and is able to obtain refreshments, read the papers, and write his letters. Pens, ink, and paper are provided free. The good work that the Y.M.C.A. has accomplished out here is simply magnificent and meets with much appreciation. The Expeditionary Field Force Canteens, of which there are now quite a large number, are veritable diminutive Harrod's Stores; in them can be purchased by officers and men every imaginable thing, from soap and writing-paper to tinned fruit and cigarettes, all at particularly low prices, especially, of course, tobacco and cigarettes, which are exported from England in bond free of duty. Even at the extremely low prices prevailing after paying current expenses and establishment charges, etc., a profit is made, and this is devoted to the alleviation of distress amongst the dependents of soldiers fallen in battle. Surely a worthy object.
Boxing and, of course, especially football are very popular behind the line, often much to the evident amazement of the French population, who are in a few cases averse to lending their fields for the purpose, which they naturally consider may be spoilt as pasture land.
Amongst other amusements, some little time ago, the Indian Cavalry Corps was presented with a cinematograph machine. An electric motor to drive it was provided by the Indian Soldiers' Fund. The whole equipment is mounted and carried on a motor-lorry. Frequent changes of pictures are obtained from London, and when times are quiet the lorry travels from unit to unit, giving periodic exhibitions for the amusement of officers and men, the screen being erected in a suitable barn or, when weather permits, out of doors.
Aire was also not without its amusements, both aquatic and equestrian. It boasted of one of the best open-air swimming-baths I have ever seen. As the summer of 1915 approached, we looked at it expectantly, and very soon the officer commanding a Reserve Ammunition Park, which was at that time in a state of immobility and compulsory idleness, was placed in charge of the bath. With considerable enterprise and some perseverance he succeeded in clearing it of weeds and rushes, and thus it became a splendid bathing-place, adding considerably to the enjoyment of officers and men alike, who were fortunate enough to be able to take advantage of it. Towards the end of July a very fine programme of aquatic sports was put up and extremely well run, the band of the aforesaid Ammunition Park assisting in no small degree towards the success of this enterprise. That band of string, wood, and brass instruments, as a "volunteer" orchestra on active service, was really an achievement. It not only did duty for such shows as this, but on Sunday mornings regularly occupied the band-stand in the centre of the Grande Place during Church Parade, at which Sir Douglas Haig, at that time the General Commanding the 1st Army, was frequently present. At a later date His Majesty the King attended a Church Parade in this Grande Place.
During the summer two horse shows were arranged by the Indian Cavalry Corps. The first was a competitive meeting in which French cavalry also participated, and was attended by civilian inhabitants and officers and men who were anywhere within reasonable distance of it at the time. A military French-horn band and a British regimental band assisted. The sight of the Royal Horse Artillery batteries going round the course at the gallop to the music of the band, and the traditional smartness of their "turn out," was one which once seen could not easily be forgotten, together with a number of riding and jumping competitions, reminiscent as they were of the Royal Naval and Military Tournament in London.
The second show was more in the nature of an exhibition of feats of horsemaster-ship by the Natives, and was arranged for the pleasure of their Majesties the King and Queen of the Belgians, accompanied by their son, the Duke of Brabant, and by Admiral Lord Charles Beresford, who were evidently much impressed, as were all spectators, by the Natives' prowess as horsemen.
It is interesting to note that on this occasion King Albert wore the khaki uniform and Sam Brown belt of a British officer. His son was in the uniform of a private of the Belgian Army, and stood at attention as he watched the show, smartly saluting all officers as they were presented to the King. He is now an Eton boy, and when his picture appeared recently in the illustrated papers, standing beside Prince Henry, the son of our own King, my mind harked back to that horse show and this strange contrast.
Lord Charles Beresford was wearing khaki slacks and field service tunic, with badges of a Colonel of Royal Marines, and any one who knows the gallant Admiral by sight will at once appreciate how picturesque he looked on this occasion.
The course was in a large field of very green pasture land, roped in and marked out with flags. The setting of the whole scene could not have been more beautiful. The field was surrounded with woods, and a typical French château stood at one end.
The various competitive events were, as I have already remarked, not confined to the Indian Cavalry Corps; officers of both British and French cavalry regiments participated, and the many different bright scarlet and blue uniforms worn by officers of French cavalry, together with the red and gold cap-bands and gorgets of British Generals and Staff and their many rows of ribbons, showed up as bright spots of colour amongst the crowd of khaki-clad soldiers, making the whole scene a really picturesque one.
The uniform of French cavalry officers, before the introduction of the universal pale blue uniform, was a creation truly marvellous; perhaps that is why they were the last to adopt the new field service dress. It consisted in bright red breeches, sky-blue short tunic with silver buttons, red and white facings distinguishing the chasseur from the dragoon; jack-boots and long spurs; a forage cap of sky blue, with silver-braid badges of rank. My description may not be quite accurate in its details; nevertheless, it is the impression left in my mind of the full-dress uniform of these gallant officers. Also there were present cuirassiers, with their breast-plates and helmets, from the back of which hung long crimson horsehair plumes.
One evening at Aire, another officer and myself were taking an after-dinner stroll along the road which leads to Berguette. We were discussing matters far removed from war, when our conversation and the peacefulness of a moonlight summer night were disturbed by a terrific explosion, which appeared to be quite close. It was followed by several more in quick succession. We stood still and, gazing upwards, could see nothing, though we heard the hum of an aeroplane or airship overhead in the distance. Returning to Aire, we found the inhabitants all out in the streets trying to catch a glimpse of the hostile aircraft. "Zeppelin" they murmured with one accord. Owing to the stillness of the night, the buzz of the engine certainly sounded louder than that of the usual aeroplane, which, however, it turned out to be. The damage done was insignificant. One or two bombs landed quite near a neighbouring station, which was being used as an ammunition railhead at the time. An ammunition train was standing loaded in a siding, but was untouched. The night-raider did not prolong his visit for very long, and by bedtime all was again quiet.
I remember a daylight aeroplane raid at Lillers one day. The Taube, flying very high, tried to bomb the station, but succeeded in damaging only a café just outside it and smashing, by the concussion of the exploding bombs, every pane of glass within a quarter of a mile radius. There were two or three casualties. A Frenchman who was the possessor of one leg only, had it damaged to such an extent that it too had to be amputated, which led him, no doubt, to reflect that troubles seldom come singly!
Chapter VIII
FROM BETHUNE TO YPRES
While we were stationed at Lillers, in the latter part of December 1914, a detachment of the Indian Cavalry was sent up in the rôle of infantry to the trenches beyond Béthune for a short spell, where they reinforced the Lahore and Meerut Divisions, the latter two Divisions comprising the Indian Corps (infantry). This corps was moved to another theatre of war at the beginning of 1916, after having borne the brunt of the fighting through two winters in France and Flanders and suffered many casualties. The cavalry on this occasion gave a good account of themselves in the fighting round Festubert and Givenchy. During the time that they were there we convoyed the motor-lorries with rations for the detachment in the trenches, but although our destination was shelled during this period and was within earshot of rifle fire in the trenches and the "rat-tat-tat" of machine guns, like so many gigantic typewriters at work, we never managed to be actually there whilst any excitement was on.
In this neighbourhood are the graves of many gallant Native troops, Gurkhas, Sikhs, Garhwalis, and Pathans of the Indian Corps. Our Dominion troops have rightly won universal praise and admiration for the gallant part they have played in the war and the way they have come forward of their own free will to fight, but it is to be regretted that our Indian troops have in this respect been somewhat neglected. The nature of their loyalty is different somehow to that of any of our other overseas troops. "For East is East, and West is West, and never the twain shall meet." Perhaps it is not generally known that every Native cavalryman provides his own horse or its equivalent value in money on enlistment. I shall never forget the Review of the Indian Cavalry Corps by the Prince of Wales in France; the way they gave "eyes right" as each squadron marched past the Prince left in one the impression that they really meant it and were saluting the future King-Emperor. These contingents, infantry and cavalry alike, came to a far-away, strange, cold land, and to a particularly bleak part of it at that, during the rainiest winter ever experienced in a proverbially wet part of the country, dressed only in their thin Indian khaki, be it remembered. They found themselves taking part in a kind of warfare that was entirely new to them, in deep trenches, frequently up to their middles in water, and always in thick mud and slush, such as they had never experienced before in their lives. Moreover, not only were they unused to shell fire, but they found their own particular methods and tactics of war in open country impossible under such circumstances; yet, in spite of all this, they upheld the fighting traditions of the Indian Army, and stuck it through the very heaviest of the fighting and under the worst climatic conditions it is possible to imagine. I am referring now chiefly to the Indian Infantry Corps.
During the nights and days which preceded the battle of Neuve Chapelle we heard guns away in the distance making a continuous bombardment, and a deep roar like thunder rent the air. This was the prelude to the attack. On March 9th Sir Douglas Haig's Special Order to the 1st Army was published.
Our minds at this time must have been dwarfed, for the attack on Neuve Chapelle was as nothing in magnitude, compared with subsequent attacks, in the matters of men and guns.
The Indian Cavalry Corps was moved up towards the direction of the attack and massed some way behind the line in woods, where they remained "standing to," in co-operation with divisions of British and French cavalry, the whole representing, I believe, the greatest number of mounted troops ever massed together, up to that time.
The Supply Column made two or three journeys up on its usual errand, but the cavalry were sent back to the previous billets after a few days, it being found that no opportunity for cavalry fighting had been effected. Although this was the case it must not be thought that the Indian Cavalry Corps were kept entirely in a state of idleness. The —— Divisions of the Corps, under the command of Lieut.-General Rimington, were directly under the orders of General Headquarters, and were available to be attached to any army and sent to any part of the line where it was considered that an opportunity for using them might arise. Meanwhile they did their bit of reserve trench digging in various parts of the line, and many a pleasant summer day I have spent in convoying up the lorries of supplies for the different digging parties, and off-loaded them at various points between Locon and Estaires. The R.H.A. batteries attached to the Corps were almost continually in action at different places, though more in the rôle of Field than of Horse Artillery.
The most interesting journeys, from the Supply Column point of view, were when the Indian Cavalry were sent up to the trenches, again in the rôle of infantrymen, to the Ypres Salient. This was in the early summer of 1915, when they reinforced the line immediately after the first German gas attack, from which our line naturally suffered severely through being unprepared for another new and previously unanticipated form of German "Kultur."
It is interesting at this point to note that during this time a British Cavalry Regiment, forming part of a Native Cavalry Brigade, assisted in the attack and capture of Hooge Château, which has changed hands so many times.
The rendezvous for the motor-lorries on these occasions was at some shelter huts on an open, flat piece of ground, where once grass had grown and now used as a camping-ground for troops recently out of, or about to take their turn in, the trenches just beyond. On it are erected a number of huts, similar to those which can be seen in many parts of England where troops in training have been encamped. A road runs through the middle of this plain, and at a prearranged point on it was the ration dumping-ground. Here the motor-lorries were met by the Supply Officer and their contents off-loaded. The use made by us of this ground as a camp was, of course, not unknown to the Germans, who occasionally favoured it with a certain amount of shelling. On one or two occasions they shelled it at a most inopportune moment. A smoking concert had been got up and was to take place in one of the largest huts. It was to start at 8 p.m., and no sooner had the first performer on the programme mounted the improvised platform than a shell landed just outside; it was followed by several others. There was only one thing to be done, and the senior officer present ordered the hut to be evacuated. So everyone departed, cursing the Huns roundly for being so extremely inconsiderate as to spoil an evening's amusement.
One Sunday a Church Parade was being held, and those present were lustily singing a hymn, the opening line of which is, "Stand up, stand up for Jesus." As the words "Stand up" were leaving their lips, a shell came screaming over and exploded near by. Every one, the padre included, instinctively "ducked"!
From the rest camp, as from many other points behind the line, an aerial combat is no unusual sight. One hears the drone of the aeroplane engines and sees the hostile machine speeding along over the line, while little white puffs, like flakes of cotton-wool, spring suddenly into being all around it, as the shrapnel shells from anti-aircraft batteries, familiarly known always as "Archies," burst. Or perhaps the gunners may favour it with high explosive shells, which leave little black puffs. On a still day the puffs of smoke linger for several minutes in the blue sky like tiny clouds and gradually disperse. The hostile aeroplane darts hither and thither. All eyes are turned skywards, and the following are the type of comments overheard as the shells burst: "Just a bit too low," "Too far ahead," "The next'll get him," "Got him," "No, he's only doing a dive down into his own lines." Often the whole path which the aeroplane has taken across the sky is literally covered with these little white puffs of shrapnel smoke. I have counted as many as a hundred and eighty, and even then the aeroplane not infrequently escapes without apparent damage. But the Taube does not have things all its own way, for one or more of our own 'planes rise to attack, and if one is very lucky one sees it descend with a long and rapid dive—nose first, in flames, a tangled mass of framework and burning canvas. An air duel on a clear day is not only wonderful from a spectacular point of view, but the most exciting episode it is possible to witness. If, however, one happens to be directly underneath where the shrapnel shells are bursting and realizes that all that goes up comes down again, one takes more than a spectacular interest in such an incident. By night aviators afford one even greater excitement, trying to spot the hostile machine and locate it by the sound of its engine. Then perhaps a terrific crash as it drops an incendiary bomb, the explosion of which lights up the whole neighbourhood with a dull red glow.
The weather all through that month of May 1915 was ideal, and nothing could have looked more beautiful than the long, straight white roads, with their line of tall trees on either side that characterize the Routes Nationales and Routes de Grande Communication, the main arteries leading across the borders of France into Belgium, and which run through miles of intensely cultivated land. The main road from Hazebrouck to Ypres is a typical example of the highways of Flanders; with its strip of raisedpavéin the centre, it is flanked by earth on either side and runs between an avenue of tall and stately poplars. It has been followed by troops from every part of the world over which flies the Union Jack or the Tricolour, and they have marched along it on their way to fight the bloodiest battles of the world's history. The nearer one gets to the trenches, the worse becomes the condition of the roads, and that leading through Poperinghe to Ypres was among the roughest on which I have ever travelled. Leaving Hazebrouck, it gradually became worse and worse as one approached and crossed the frontier of Belgium. Thepavéin the centre is narrow and has a high camber. The earth that borders it on either side is soft, so that it is particularly difficult for two heavy motor-lorries proceeding in opposite directions to pass one another. It is to the credit of British motor-car manufacturers that the lorries and cars with the Expeditionary Force in France have stood up so well on roads such as they were never designed or intended to travel on.
They were sad runs these, up to the trenches, where every village through which the convoy passed was suffering more from the devastating effects of shell fire than the last. Every day almost one would notice a change; another church tower a little more damaged, or a house that yesterday was proudly standing and a landmark is a victim to German artillery and a ruined mass to-day. Fewer and fewer buildings left standing, not a piece of glass remaining in any single window frame; the bare walls, perhaps, of a house here and there still standing, but bespattered with shrapnel bullets. The further up one got, the fewer civilian inhabitants one saw, until the last villages, such as Vlamertinghe on the road to Ypres, which had been entirely evacuated by the civilian population, except perhaps for one or two old peasants here and there, who had possibly spent all their lives in their own particular village and intended to continue doing so, even if this entailed living a considerable part of the time in cellars. We often passed little parties of refugees making their way slowly into France, there to throw themselves on the hospitality of their more fortunate friends. Turning their backs for ever on their old homes, which they instinctively knew they had seen for the last time, a whole family, perhaps, the father leading a horse and cart piled up with such odd bits and pieces of household goods as they had managed to save, perhaps all their worldly possessions—a bed, mattress, and a few sticks of furniture—the other members of the family either riding on the cart or following in a sorrowful little procession behind it, their possessions amongst the animal world not being forgotten, but frequently represented by a goat and a few chickens. The further up one got, too, the more congested were the roads with the impedimenta of war: motor-lorries, ambulances, guns, wagons and the like. The Military Police, being stationed on point duty on the more important cross roads, with the aid of red and green flags directed the traffic, and for all the world it was often like a block of vehicular traffic at Piccadilly Circus, the usual accompaniment of language not being forgotten!
From the rest huts at Vlamertinghe right into Ypres, or what remained of it, was only a matter of five minutes on a motorcycle. Never have I seen or imagined a sight so tragic. Street after street in a state of absolute wreck and ruin. What had once been beautiful and massive buildings, such as the famous Cloth Hall, which dates from the thirteenth century, and the Church of St. Martin, now heaps of debris and broken glass lying across the road. Houses destroyed, many of them, beyond recognition; some had been set alight by shells and were slowly smouldering; others, with their fronts completely blown away, were still standing and displayed their contents nakedly to the passer-by. Such is the ugliness of war's destruction—the desolation of desolation, deserted by every living soul. Never before have I experienced such a sensation of utter loneliness. This struck me more forcibly, I think, than anything else. If one had searched amongst those ruins, what treasures and what gruesome tragedies might one have encountered! Ypres must once have been a very beautiful city and capital of Flanders; now it was a city of Death. To visit it in 1915 was to see the eighth wonder of the world. Surely it will for ever be haunted by the spirits of the soldiers who have fallen in fighting to hold it. That the Ypres Salient has been consistently held against fearful odds and the heavy attacks which the enemy has made on it, with Calais as his objective, is an everlasting memorial to the valour of British soldiers.
I picked up some pieces of coloured glass, which had once formed part of the stained-glass windows of St. Martin's Church, now shattered and littered over the ground around its ruins, to take away as a memento, and as these thoughts were just passing through my mind, a shell whistled overhead and burst with a crash a little distance away and awoke in me a sense of duty. I made my way out of Ypres along the debris-strewn road, containing here and there some fine examples of shell-holes in the middle of it. On the way out I passed what had once been a General Service wagon with horses and riders, now a horrible inert mass of horse-flesh and wheel-spokes—at least, that is the impression that this sight left on my mind. A shell had caught it fair—a direct hit—a few minutes before.
Ypres at this time, it will be seen, was by no means a health resort. The long straight road leading into it was shelled regularly as clockwork every day; usually at about five or six o'clock the evening "hate" started. That is what is meant when the official communique states that "artillery fire was directed upon billets, railheads, and communication roads"; for this was a road which much transport loaded with rations, ammunition, and other material for the trenches there travelled along, and in the villages along that road troops on their way up to or out of the trenches were frequently temporarily billeted.
Whether it is a peculiarly machine-like working of the German mind or due to the fact that German organization is carried to such limits of mathematical precision I do not know, but the fact remains that this road was normally quite safe except between certain fixed and regular hours each evening. So I was never particularly anxious to delay the return journey of the convoy of empty motor-lorries longer than was absolutely necessary, and used to leave the danger zone as soon as we had off-loaded the rations and secured the Supply Officer's receipt for them. On one occasion only, on the return journey, however, did we have any excitement. We were travelling in convoy along a narrow road leading from the huts up to and at right angles to the main road. Just as we came to the junction of the two a few shells landed in the adjoining field, planted with tall poles, around which twining hops grew, doubtless of the famous Popeninghe brand. A few of these were destroyed, and quantities of earth were thrown up, the shells leaving dense grey-black clouds of smoke in the air, but doing no other damage. We were only just in time, though, that day, for a few hours later a motor-cyclist dispatch rider, who had come along the same road, caught up the convoy at Hazebrouck and told me that further back the road was being heavily shelled.
The saddest sight of all is just behind the line, in those roadside fields where rest the fallen. No matter to what part of the line one goes, but particularly behind Ypres—and nowhere scarcely along the whole front has the fighting been heavier than on this bit of the British line—one sees clustered together in groups here and there the little wooden crosses which mark the graves of those of whom Robert Louis Stevenson wrote, "They despised Death and have won their discharge." They are cared for now and duly registered, and as far as possible inscribed with names and dates by that excellent department, the Graves Registration Committee at General Headquarters. "Oh, Cromwell's England, must thou yield for every inch of ground a son?" asks the poet; and these little graves will for ever remain, silent witnesses to the fact that here Death once reaped a rich harvest.