BY DAY AND BY NIGHT.

Auckland Star, Volume XLVI, Issue 223, 18 September 1915, Page 6

BY DAY AND BY NIGHT.

A VIVID DESCRIPTION. THE BURDEN" OF ACTIVE SERVICE. THE MAX AVHO STAYS AT HOME. " Picture a .hi-1 as high as Mount Eden only instead of eu_-iiinati_g in a cone with a ridge of anything up to a .mile, in length runmiivg along the summit. Clear the side facing the Waitenuita of trees and J.ottses, and you have something of tihc.position of our hill." 1 Thus a corpora' wiitji the Auckland Battalion describes the heights .beneath which he is lighting. " Ait the foot lies a great arm of the sea," he continues, " with islands dotted about 'it, very t-itiri'lar to Mottttapu, Motuiiii. a: d Waihekc. But the resemblance in oti'ly in a topographical sense—not in any other. I can assure yom. Ip the seaward face of this 'hill winds a sinuous track, iboot-'i,o.p deep in biting, acrid dust. From the ridge to half-way down terraces have been hewn out of the hill iuvd banked up with great ramparts of sandbags, and then roofed lin to serve as bomb shelters, lv these places live the supports and reserves for tbe tiring line. Here the men , are packed like sardines, and to do 72 ! hours iv one of tihiwc places when fully equipped ami choked with dust, annoyed | by Hies and scorched by the sun, -s I something .more tihan enough. Vet it is j surprising how jolly the men arc. 'Ihe leant joke makes them 'lanigb. (sometimes the wind un a playful mood heaves clouds of dust al us, and I bad luck I these oil-bursts generally happen during a frugal •meal. SWEATING, PANTING, SWEARING. " Up the track 1 mentioned Jidi toil daily, sweating, panning and swearing I las they stoop and stumble under the weight of th.-ir burdens. Here at this! steep incline pass three or tour carrying i ajnmainiti.oll, then more with cans of water, dixies of tea, food, mid sacks of bread, all bound for the tiring line. And this ntrea.ni of carriers passes up and down day nnd night to the puisc of the army—the fining line. " At night, down along the road in the fruH.es, is a scene of well-ordered activity among the stores ami water ; -.tores. Well after nightfall long linen of mule carts, driven by Indians, and loa.i.il with stores, .pass along the narrow road to the depot. The Indian I drivers are stolid, silent men. They ..it j ou the front of the nwle cart, and never ' say a word, but just guide their pair of mules. And the mules t.hemselves seem part of their driver, for they, too, travel silently along in sputc of obstacles. One feature of these mule teams is that they hold right of way once they get on the move, and look mv for trouble if you get in their way. for they never detour, but will run ri-glm over you. So. moral, stand close to the earth bank, and wa.lt t.II the convoy has passed. TIIE SCENE AT NIGHT TIME. "Work here goes on nig-.it and day. In fact, more is. done at night, for there are various kind, of job., thai cannot be attempted in daylight, as title enemy would see them in progress —so darkness is a good friend _,) our engineers and to tihe other braiK-hc- of the service. i 'Tis also at nijrlit that the lighting taKi*. ' place. Night is made hideous .by the roar of artillery, bursting of bombs, and rattle of rill.*' Rre. Big shell,* scurry 1 through tie air, CPls_.-CTossing each other and makinp a noise like electric ears. They hit ihe earth/with it frightful Bound arf they burst into splinters. I do not know whether tints place 1 will ever become like Surrey Hills, but I guess the jerry builder will conic aoross many strange things when he begins to sink holes Cor house blocks. For lihere are biiri.il here acres of .tins, clothing, and all kinds of gear. " .Vs a tourist resort the place may some day hold a place in the sun. for there are many people whose tasites are nwrbid. and would glory in coming to look at battlefields and'delve for some brass button or earlnMge case. So no doubt if some onterprisung spirit started n pub and an asylum here, it would pay him. " Ye*, thus is a fine country, and must have lieen spilt from Nature's crucible before its ititne, and got scorched in tbe process—it Blunt run the doorstep of hell very close for pride of place. TIIE MAN WHO WEABS PINK HOSE. "So that with dust, dirt, flies, ants. flying whells, whizzing 'bullets, and bully beef, this is no place for the man that takes size 7 in kiid gloves, or wears pink half-hose. Talking of the wearing of pink socks, 1 would like to see one of them cawtoring up this hill with a case of ammunition—l reckon his views on this job would alter, and his love-curl would get displaced. But we want rule kind here; it would take too many men to keep him at ibis -vork. So lei him stay where he is, unhonourcd and unsung. " No d'oaibt this war job wiiH have a great effect upon itlie younger men here in after life. Possibly for some it will do good—for other- it may be their downfall. For many, when" they have tasted this peculiar kind of life, never make steady citizens. These things, I suippose, are the wages a nation has to pay after being at war. But let us hope that in the case of Xew Zealand the percenitage will ibe small of the latter kind, because she wiJ] need virile men in the near future." IN THE TURKS' BACKYARD. k\EW ZEALANDERS' WIXXIXG WAYS. A racy description of life in the trenches on Gallipoli is given by Corporal Allan Maunsell. "I'm still alive and kicking, and still able to join in the chorus," he says. "Tills little bit of the , world belongs to us, byt, being uninvited . guests of the Turkish host, we are still j in a measure, relegated to the backyard, but we look forward confidently to our winning little ways gaining us before long the entree into his drawing room (Constantinople). Apropos of Tour reminder that in a former letter I mentioned that a Turkish oflicer with whom I hobnobbed during an armistice wrote hie. name and some lines in my pocketbook, I thought that perchance the lines might be an expression of opinion that I was some sort of an X.Y.Z. blighter, so I got our interpreter to translate same, and they turned out to be the addTess of his folk in Constantinople. It take it au a kindly hint that he expects us to call on them .vhen - we get there. Eh, what."