How I Filmed the War Part 29

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE BATTLEFIELD OF "GINCHY." I WAS HURLED INTO THE TRENCH IN THE FOREGROUND BY THE BURSTING OF A GERMAN Sh.e.l.l, AND AWOKE MANY HOURS LATER WITH Sh.e.l.l SHOCK AND REALISED I HAD BEEN LYING BESIDE A DEAD GERMAN ALL NIGHT. HE HAD BEEN THERE I SHOULD SAY ABOUT THREE WEEKS]

[Ill.u.s.tration: RESERVES WATCHING THE ATTACK AT MARTINPUICH. SEPT. 15TH, 1916]

Anyway there was just a chance, and I decided to take it.

Therefore I suggested that I should go up very early in the morning to our front line, getting there about four o'clock. There would just be sufficient light for me to have a look round, that is if Brother Fritz wasn't too inquisitive. I could then fix up the camera and wait.

"What time does the barrage start?" I asked.

"Ten minutes to zero. It's going to be very intense, I can tell you that."

"Well, sir, there is one special point I would like you to clear up for me if possible. What the deuce is the 'Hus.h.!.+ Hus.h.!.+'?"

At that question everyone in the place laughed. "Hus.h.!.+ hus.h.!.+ not so loud," one said, with mock gravity. "You mean the Tanks."

"I am just as wise as ever. Anyway, whether they are called the 'Hush Hushers' or 'Tanks,' what the d.i.c.kens are they? Everyone has been asking me if I have seen the 'Hus.h.!.+ hus.h.!.+' until I have felt compelled to advise them to take more water with it in future. At first I thought they were suffering from a unique form of sh.e.l.l-shock."

"I haven't seen them," he said. "All I know is that we have two of them going over with our boys. This is their line; they will make straight for the left-hand corner of the village, and cross the trenches on your left about two hundred yards from the point suggested. They are a sort of armoured car arrangement and sh.e.l.ls literally glance off them. They will cross trenches, no matter how wide, crawl in and out sh.e.l.l-holes, and through barbed wire, push down trees and...."

I turned to the General. "I certainly suggest, sir, that ---- should go to hospital; the war is getting on his nerves. He will tell me next that they can fly as well."

The General laughed. But quite seriously he told me it was all true.

"Then I hope I shall be able to get a good film of them," I said, "especially as this will be the first time they have been used."

Finally it was agreed that ----, who was going up to the front line to observe for the division, should act as my guide, and take me up in the morning at three o'clock.

"We shall have to start about that time," he said; "it will be possible to go there for quite a good distance over the top of the ridge. It will save trudging through '---- Trench,' and there's sure to be a lot of troops packed in it. In any case it will take us about three-quarters of an hour."

"And I want at least an hour to look round and find a suitable spot; so three o'clock will suit me very well."

"Hullo!" I said, as I heard the crack of a 5.9 crump burst just outside the dug-out. "Can't Bosche let you alone here?"

"No," he said, "he strafes us sometimes. He put quite a lot in here the other day, and one went clean through our cook-house, but no damage was done, beyond spoiling our lunch. If he antic.i.p.ates our show in the morning, he will be sure to plaster us."

At night I watched the effect of the flashes from our guns. They were rattling off at quite a good pace. What a gorgeous night! Dotted all round this skeleton of what was once a wood, but now merely a few sticks of charred tree trunks, and in and out as far as the eye could see, were scores of tiny fires. The flames danced up and down like elves, and crowded round the fires were groups of our boys, laughing and chatting as if there was no such thing as war. Now and then the flash of the big howitzers momentarily lighted up the whole landscape. What a scene!

Having seen as much of the war as I have done, and having been practically through the campaign from the very outset, it may surprise you that I had not used myself to such sights. Possibly I ought to have done, but the fact remains that I cannot. These night scenes always appeal to me. Every scene is so different, and looking at everything from the pictorial point of view I wished with all my heart I could have filmed such a wonderful scene. But even had I been able to do so I could not have reproduced the atmosphere, the sound of the guns, the burst of the sh.e.l.ls, the glare of the star-sh.e.l.ls, the laughter of the men--and some of them were swearing. The impenetrable blackness was accentuated by the dancing flames from the fires. It was a sight to dream about; and almost involuntarily reminded one of a scene from the _Arabian Nights_.

It was now midnight. My guide told me to follow him. "We'll go down below and find a place in which to s.n.a.t.c.h a little sleep." Down a long flight of stairs we went, along corridors, then down another flight and round more corridors. The pa.s.sages seemed endless, until at last we came to a halt beside the bunk-like beds fastened on the wall.

"What an extraordinary place; how deep is it?"

"About sixty feet," said my companion. "The place is like a rabbit warren."

"Well, I'm glad you are with me, for I should never find my way out alone." And I rolled my blanket round me and went to sleep.

I was awakened by my guide. "Come on," he said; "time we moved off."

I quickly got out of my blanket. Jove, how cold it was! My teeth chattered like castanets.

"It's like an ice-house down here; let's go out and see if any of the men have any fire left. Might be able to have a little hot tea before we go. I have some biscuits and odds and ends in my satchel."

"Will you let me have a man to help me with my tripod?"

"Certainly, as a matter of fact I arranged for one last night."

Up we went. Along the corridors men were lying about in their blankets, fast asleep. Holding a piece of guttering candle in my hand, and shaking like a leaf with cold, I stepped between the sleeping men; but it was anything but an easy task.

During the journey I missed my companion. By a lucky accident I managed to find an exit, but it was nowhere near the one I entered last night.

Ah, here's a fire, and quickly getting the water on the boil, made some tea; then shouldering the camera, and ---- helping me, by taking one of the cases, we started off.

It was still very dark, but the sky was quite free from clouds. If only it would keep like that I might just get an exposure.

We proceeded as fast as the innumerable sh.e.l.l-holes and old barbed wire would allow, and made straight for the ruins of ----, then crossing the road we followed the communication trenches along the top.

It was still pitch dark. I looked at my watch. It was 4.30.

The trenches were full of life. Men were pouring in to take up their positions. Bosche put a few sh.e.l.ls over near by, but fortunately n.o.body was touched. He was evidently nervous about something, for on several occasions he sent up star-sh.e.l.ls, in batches of six, which lighted up the whole ridge like day, and until they were down again I stood stock still.

[Ill.u.s.tration: OVER THE TOP AT MARTINPUICH, SEPT. 15, 1916. I PHOTOGRAPHED THIS SCENE AT 5.20 IN THE MORNING]

[Ill.u.s.tration: TWO MINUTES TO ZERO HOUR AT MARTINPUICH, SEPT. 15, 1916, THEN "OVER THE TOP"]

Day was breaking in the east. A low-lying mist hung over the village.

I hoped it would not affect my taking.

We were now in the trenches, and daylight was gradually beginning to appear.

"It's got to light up a lot more if I'm going to be able to film," I said. "But thank heaven the sky is cloudless. That's the one chance."

All at once it seemed as though the sky lightened. Actinic conditions improved considerably, and I was just congratulating myself on my good fortune when----

"What's that, sir?" said the man at my side, who had been peering through a periscope.

Gingerly I raised myself above the parapet and peered in the direction in which his finger pointed.

For a moment I could discern nothing. Then, gradually out of the early morning mist a huge, dark, shapeless object evolved. It was apparently about three hundred yards away. It moved, and judging by the subdued hum and a slight smoke which it emitted--like the breath of an animal--it lived!

I had never seen anything like it before. What was it?

CHAPTER XXII

THE JUGGERNAUT CAR OF BATTLE

A Weird-looking Object Makes Its First Appearance Upon the Battlefield--And Surprises Us Almost as Much as It Surprised Fritz--A Death-dealing Monster that Did the Most Marvellous Things--And Left the Ground Strewn with Corpses--Realism of the Tank Pictures.