"Crumps", The Plain Story Of A Canadian Who Went Part 7

[Ill.u.s.tration]

Bringing Up A Motor Machine Gun

I arrived at the town early and reported to the major who is in charge of the town and of the troops quartered there. He was living in the prison, a substantial brick and stone building, which has been smashed about a bit, but which is still a fairly good structure. The major is a fine, gruff old gentleman who was a master of fox hounds in the North of England. He came over with a detachment of cavalry. He is past the age limit, and it was decided that although he was a fine soldier, perhaps his age would be a deterrent and his job ought to be something lighter, so they gave him one of the fiercest jobs in the world-O. C. Ypres!

I was sent in, and when he heard my errand he said, "You want to park your machines in Ypres? Why don't you take them up in the German front lines?

You'll be safer there than here. Listen to the sh.e.l.ling now." I knew this, but I was doing just exactly what I was told. He continued: "I have now thousands of troops here and my daily casualties are enormous, so naturally I don't want any more men. The best plan for you will be to go down the Lille road and pick a house below 'Shrapnel Corner.' "

I went on through the town, under the Lille gate, across the tram lines, past the famous cross-roads known as "Shrapnel Corner" and chummed up with some artillery officers. They told me that I could have any of the houses I wanted. I picked a couple which looked to me to be more complete than the rest and chalked them up. This whole place was alive with batteries.

While I was there I heard a shout and suddenly a hidden battery of guns, sunk behind the road with the muzzles almost resting on it, started firing across in the direction of the part of Belgium occupied by Fritz. I had pa.s.sed within two feet of these guns and yet had not seen them, they were so well "camouflaged." On my way back I saw the "Big Berthas" bursting in the town, and I was surprised that so little damage had been actually done to the Lille gate itself. Sh.e.l.ls had visited everywhere in the neighborhood, but had not smashed this old structure.

I went home, collected my men together, and told them the importance of the work we were to undertake. I have found it always a good thing to make the men think the job that they are doing is of great importance. Better results are obtained that way.

We went to an "engineer dump" on the way up just after the enemy had landed a sh.e.l.l on a wagon loading building material, and wounded were being carried off and the mangled horses had been dragged on one side. As the wounded came by I called my section to attention, the compliment due to wounded men paid by units drawn up.

We drew our sandbags in the usual way by requisitioning for five thousand and getting one thousand. Always ask for more than you expect to get.

As we came into Ypres, a military policeman on duty told me it was unhealthy to go the usual way through the Market Square, because the sh.e.l.ling was bad in that part of the town, so I spread the machines out and started on down a side street. We were getting on finely and I was congratulating myself on getting through, when two houses, hit from the back, collapsed across the street in front of my machine. Without any ceremony I turned my machine back along the street which we had come and went through the Market Square down the Lille road, under the gate, being followed by my section. About four hundred yards down I stopped; holding my solo motor cycle between my legs, standing up, I looked back. I counted my machines as they came up. If it hadn't been so scary, it really would have been funny, to see these machines coming down the road through sh.e.l.l holes and over piles of bricks, as fast as the drivers could make them go.

The men were hanging on for dear life and the machines rocked from side to side, but they were all there.

Down the road we went to the houses; there we parked the machines and unpacked. A guard was placed over them and the rest of us marched down to the trenches.

An officer has to buy all his own equipment and is allowed two hundred and fifty dollars by the Government towards the cost. An officer carries a revolver, but all junior officers as soon as possible acquire a rifle. The men of a "salvage company" were collecting all the rifles, bayonets, and parts of equipment near where I was to-day and I managed to get a Lee-Enfield (British rifle) in good shape. I felt that I would like to have a rifle and bayonet handy. I found a good-looking bayonet sticking in the side of a sandbag wall. It looked lonely. The scabbard I am using was resting in a loft of a deserted brewery. I am now complete with rifle, bayonet, and scabbard.

[Ill.u.s.tration]

"Wipers"

Sometimes you see a man smashed about in a terrible way, such a mess that you think he is a goner; he may recover. Another man may have just a small wound and will die. A bullet hitting a man in the head will smash it as effectually as a sledge-hammer. Once a man leaves your unit, wounded, you don't see him again. You get a fresh draft.

No one thinks of peace here. Germany must be put in a similar state to Belgium first.

We never travel anywhere without our smoke helmets; they come right over our heads and are tucked into our s.h.i.+rts; they have two gla.s.s eye-pieces.

When we have them on we look like the old Spanish gentleman who ran the "Star Chamber." Helmets must always be ready to put on instantly. Gas is a matter of seconds in coming over. The helmets are better than respirators, but have to be constantly inspected. A small hole, or if one is allowed to dry, means a casualty.

Storm brewing. Flies bad, driven in by the wind. Nature goes on just the same. I suppose that this farm would be just as fly-ridden in an ordinary summer. During the bombarding yesterday I noticed swallows flying about quite unconcerned. Corn, mostly self-planted, grows right up to the trenches. Cabbages grow wild. Communicating trenches run right through fields of crops; flowers grow in profusion between the lines, big red poppies and field daisies, and there are often hundreds of little frogs in the bottom of the trenches.

A trip to No Man's Land is an excursion which you never forget. It varies in width and horrors. My impression was similar to what I should feel being on Broadway without any clothes-a naked feeling. Forty-seven and one half inches of earth are necessary to stop a bullet, and it's nice to have that amount of dirt between you and the enemy's bullets. The dead lie out in between the lines or hang up on the wire; they don't look pretty after they have been out some time. It's a pleasant job to have to get their identification disks, and we have to search the bodies of the enemy dead for papers and even b.u.t.tons so that we can know what unit is in front of us. Flowers grow in between, b.u.t.terflies play together, and birds nest in the wire. When the gra.s.s becomes too high it has to be cut, because otherwise it would prevent good observation. In some places gra.s.s doesn't have a chance to even take root, let alone grow. The sh.e.l.ls take care of that.

I managed to get a translation of a diary kept by a German soldier who fell on the field. Below is an exact translation and gives the point of view of a man in the trenches on the other side of the line. He was writing his diary at the same time I was writing mine, and we were both fighting around the salient at Ypres, Hooge being on the point of the salient farthest east. This part, which was once a place of beauty which people came long distances to see, is now like a great muddy Saragossa Sea which at the height of its fury has suddenly become frozen with the tortured limbs of trees and men, and wreckage and reeking smells, until it can again lash itself in wild fury into whirlpools. It is in all respects Purgatory, but of greater horror than Dante ever dreamt of.

_Diary of F---- P---- of the 6th Company, 3d Battalion, 132d Regiment.

Killed at Hooge on August 9th, 1915._

On May 10, we were told to prepare for the journey to the front. Each man received his service ammunition and two days' rations, and we then started with heavy packs on our backs and our water-bottles full of coffee. After a long march we reached our reserve position, where we were put into rest billets for two days in wooden huts hidden in a wood. We could hear from here the noise of the sh.e.l.ls coming through the air.

On May 13, we moved into the trenches, in the night. We were a whole hour moving along a communication trench one and one-half metres deep, right up to the front line some fifty metres from the enemy. This was to be our post. We had hardly got in before the bullets came flying over our heads.

Look out for the Englis.h.!.+ They know how to shoot! I need hardly say we did not wait to return the compliment. We answered each one of their greetings and always with success, inasmuch as we stood to our loopholes for twenty-four hours with two-hour reliefs.

At length early on the 15th, at four o'clock, came our first attack. After a preliminary smoking-out with gas, our artillery got to work, and about ten o'clock we climbed out of the trenches and advanced fifty metres in the hail of bullets. Here I got my first shot through the coat. Three comrades were killed at the outset of the a.s.sault, and some twenty slightly or severely wounded, but we had obtained our object. The trench was ours, although the English twice attempted to turn us out of it.

The fight went on till eleven o'clock that evening. We were then relieved by the 10th Company, and made our way back along the communication trenches to our old positions. Here we remained until the third day, standing by at night and pa.s.sing two days without sleep. We were hardly able to get our meals. From every side firing was going on, and shots came plugging two metres deep into the ground. This was my baptism of fire. It cannot be described as it really is-something like an earthquake, when the big sh.e.l.ls come at one and make holes in the ground large enough to hold forty or fifty men comfortably. How easy and comfortable seemed our road back to the huts.

We remained in the huts for three days, resting before we went up again to "h.e.l.l Fire," as they call the first line trenches in front of Ypres.

Then suddenly in the middle of the night an alarm. Our neighbors had allowed themselves to be driven out of our hard-won position, and the 6th Company, with the 8th and 5th, had to make good the lost ground. A hasty march through the communication trenches up to the front, the night lit up far and wide with searchlights and flares and ourselves in a long chain lying on our bellies. Towards two in the morning the Englishmen came on, 1500 men strong. The battle may be imagined. About 200 returned to the line they started from. Over 1300 dead and wounded lay on the ground. Six machine guns and a quant.i.ty of rifles and equipment were taken back by us, the 132d Regiment, and the old position was once more in our possession.

What our neighbors lost the 132d regained. There was free beer that evening and a concert! At 11 P.M. once more we withdrew to the rear, our 2d, 4th and 10th Companies relieving us. We slept a whole day and night like the dead.

On June 15th, we again went back to rest billets, but towards midday we were once more sent up to the front line to reinforce our right wing, which was attacked by French and English. Just as we got to our trenches we were greeted by a heavy sh.e.l.l fire, the sh.e.l.ls falling in front of our parapets, making the sandbags totter. Seeing this, I sprang to the spot and held the whole thing together till the others hurried up to my a.s.sistance. Just as I was about to let go, I must have got my head too high above the parapet, as I got shot in the scalp. In the excitement I did not at once realize that I was wounded, until Gubbert said-"Hullo, Musch! Why, you're bleeding!" The stretcher-bearer tied me up, and I had to go back to the dressing-station to be examined. Happily it was nothing more than a mere scalp wound, and I was only obliged to remain on the sick-list four days, having the place attended to.

June 24th. All quiet in the West, except for sniping. The weather is such that no offensive can take place. The English will never have a better excuse for inactivity than this-"It is raining." Thank G.o.d for that! Less dust to swallow to-day! Odd that here in Belgium we are delighted with the rain, while in Germany they are watching it with anxiety.

To-day we shall probably be relieved. Then we go to Menin to rest. Ten days without coming under fire. It is Paradise!

Sunday, June 27th. At nine o'clock clean up. At eleven roll-call. At three o'clock went to the Cinema-very fine pictures. In the afternoon all the men danced till seven, but we had to take each other for partners-no girls.

July 2d. 11 P.M. Alarm. Three persons have been arrested who refused to make sandbags. They were pulled out of bed and carried off. Eight o'clock marched to drill. This lasts till 11. Then 1 to 4 rest. Six, physical drill and games. I went to the Cinema in the evening.

July 6th. Inspection till eleven. Three hours standing in the sun-enough to drive me silly. Twenty-three men fell out. Three horses also affected by the heat. Eleven to one Parade march-in the sun. Thirty-six more men reported sick. I was very nearly one of them.

July 9th. Preparation for departure. From seven to ten pack up kits.

Eleven, roll-call. One-thirty, march to light railway. At seven reached firing trench. The English are firing intermittently over our heads; otherwise, all is quiet. We are now on the celebrated, much-bewritten-about "Hill 60." Night pa.s.ses without incident.

July 12th. At three in the morning the enemy makes a gas attack. We put on respirators. Rifle in hand we leap from the trenches and a.s.sault. In front of Hill 60 the enemy breaks, and we come into possession of a trench.

Rapid digging. Counter-attack repulsed. At nine o'clock all is quiet, only the artillery still popping. This evening we are to be relieved. The 132d Regiment is much beloved by the Englis.h.!.+ In a dugout we found two labels.

One of them had the following writing on it: "G.o.d strafe the 132d Regiment (not 'G.o.d strafe England' this time). Sergeant Scott (?) Remington, Sewster Wall (?)." On the other was, "I wish the Devil would take you, you pigs."

At 7.20 Hill 60 is bombarded by artillery, and shakes thirty to fifty metres, as if from an earthquake. Two English companies blown into the air-a terrible picture. Dug-outs, arms, equipment-all blown to bits.

July 17th. Marched to new quarters. We have got a new captain. He wants to see the company, so at 8 A.M. drill in pouring rain. Four times we have to lie on our belly, and get wet through and through. All the men grumbling and cursing. At eleven we are dismissed. I, with a bad cold and a headache. I wish this soldiering were all over.

July 19th. At seven sharp we marched off to our position. Heavy bombardment. At nine we were buried by a sh.e.l.l. I know no more. At eleven I found myself lying in the Field Hospital. I have pains inside me over my lungs; and headache, and burning in the joints.

July 20th. The M.O. has had a look at me. He says my stomach and left lung are suffering from the pressure which was put on them. The princ.i.p.al remedy is rest.

July 21st. Thirty-nine degrees of fever (temp. 100 Fahr.). Stay in bed and sleep, and oh! how tired I am!

July 22d. I slept all day. Had milk and white bread to eat.

July 26th. Returned to duty with three days' exemption, i.e., we do not have any outdoor work.