AT THE FRONT.

Press, Volume LI, Issue 15335, 20 July 1915, Page 8

AT THE FRONT.

THE MODERN BATTLEFIELD.

IF CANTERBURY WERE FLANDERS.

Assuming Canterbury to be part of Flanders, Lieutenant W. 0. Berryman, of the Ist (Royal) Dragoons, in a letter to hi s father. Mr H. G. Berryman, Stanley Downs, Kohatu, Nelson, gives a graphic description of the modern battlefield and of the conditions at the actual "front." You have heard a lot of a cathedral city which has, or had. a Cloth Hall, we" will compare this to ChristchurchTho Germans we will suppose to occupy Kaiapoi and tho country north of it. The line of trenches runs near Belfast or Styx, from the sea to the sea on the West Coast. Now, you havo just landed at, say, Timaru. after showing your landing "ticket to an officer on the wharf. Everything is as usual, shipping going on just the same, perhaps an odd gunboat lying in the harbour, and a few stray men in khaki about the wharves, and numerous (French) Territorials standing about smoking. No one excited, no talk of war in tho town itself, plenty of soldiers about "promenading," but "business as usual." You go to the station and show your pass to a sentry and the guard, and board the train. RUMOURS OF WAR. Out in tho country fanning is going on just as usual. You pass a military camp occasionally, and a sentry every half-milo on tho side of the line. At Ashburton your pass is inspected, and you hear the Germans havo lost nine battleships in the North tsea, and the English have captured Belfast and 10,090 prisoners. At Rakaia your pass is again examined, and you see generals arid Staff oiticers leaving the tram, cs General Headquarters are here. You remark to someone on tho plattonn what you heard at Ashburton, and he says it is probably truo, although they haven't yet heard of it. You are also informed that tho train (express) stops at Rakaia, and you can only go on to Islington by a goods train, which you do, seated'in a waggon. Arriving at Islington you aro told a bomb was dropped near tho Rakaia station justafter you left, and you enquire about the 10,000 prisoners and the North fcea battle. The answer is: "Tmngs are very quiet, ten prisoners came through yesteidav, and thero is nothing official about the North Sea." Islington is ono mass of motor-waggons, hundreds of them loading up with stores. "Buses'' everywhere, and motor-cars with a small flag on the side going in all directions. Your pass is again examined, and perhaps exchanged for a fresh one. You say you have leave to go to see the battlefield, and you get a lift in an A.S.C. motor-car. You drive on the right of the road, and a continuous stream of motor ambulances (full) and motor-waggons (empty) _ pass you going back. Your companion points out an aeroplane to you, and says whether English, French, Belgian, or "Bosch." You watch it till your neck is stiff (especially if it Ls being shelled), and suddenly a deuce of a bang goes off in your ear, and you look round for a gun, but none is in sight. Your driver points out two or three men in tho field, and remarks that "a battery is over there, French 755," and are firing over Christchurch' -"- the Kaiapoi bridge. Coming into Christchurch. several of tho houses have big holes in them, and look as if they had "been on fire. There are very few civilians about, all tho houses are shut up, and some empty. Thp railway station is deserted, an engine is turned over on its side with a "big rent in it trucks are turned upside down, and tho line is full of big holes with water in them. No trams aro running, but hundreds of motor waggons are coming into the town. The Cathedral consists of three walls and half a Bteeple, all one side of the Square —the Post Office side—is a mass of bricks. Soldiers are everywhere, of all sorts, and one or two shops and hotels are open, otherwise everything is dead. Darkness comes on, no lights anywhere; a rumble of waggons commences, and in the Square, or moro likely, at Riccarton, motor waggons discharge rations and ammunition ir.to horse transport waggons. An odd shrapnel comes overhead, but no one takes much notice. The rumble starts again, and a steady stream of laden waggons starts off up the Papanui road. You obtain a seat in one, and are tossed about from side to side of the seat as the waggons go in and out of shell holes. Halt! 1 a batch of reinforcements . i 9 crossing the road near the Papanui station, and t vou wait till these pass. At the same time you hear men walking past on your left. It is the Field Ambulance carrying out tho wonnded on stretchers to th 6 motor ambulances waiting at Riccarton. This is always done, liko everything else, at night time. Walk. March 1 and on you go again. NEARING THE FRONT. Suddenly the sky is lit up, and for a few seconds everything is liko daylight. It is a pistol flare or 6tar shell you are told, and soon yon' sco them going up in a lino across your front, and that is where the trenches are. At th c same time an incessant distant crackling sound greets your ear, and you learn that it is the distant rifle fire, which sound increases as you get near. A stray bullet passes in your vicinity, and you begin to realise things. A few shells burst in tho field . next to the road, and your cool driver. I explains the Germans aro searching for j the road. Papanui is uninhabited exI cept by a few sentries. Everything is in ruins, not a house standing; the cemetery has been shelled. You are not feeling too well, and aro glad to get off the waggon which stops hero and empties the ration s on to tho side of the road. Fatigue parties are waiting i from each regiment to "man handle" tho rations up to the trenches, and soon have them sorted out and aro on the move. You, we will imagine, have attached yourself to one of these parties, and having given one of the men a cigarette, he tells you all the latest news concerning his part of the line. He is very interesting, probably a cockney, and wants to know all about who won the football final, and talks everything but war- All of a sudden he goes down flat on his "Little Mary" and tells you to do likewise for a "flare" is going up, and it is not wis c to be spotted. Tho flaro lasts a few seconds and on you go again, stumbling over holes, hearing bullets passing overhead all the time, and after falling down flat as before for about the hundredth time, you are absolutely dead beat when, on the side of tho road, you see a cave with a light inside it, and think you have arrived at last. But no, it is General So-and-So's dug .out — the trenches are a mile and a half yet further on. So on you trudge, wet through above tho knees through falling in shell holes. Your face is scratched by telephone wires which you have not bent low enough to pass, and so far you are not much impressed ■with a modern battlefield, still you live in hope. IN THE TRENCHES. A tramp of feet announces a regiment coming out. "Who are you;-" someone remarks. You reply the name of your regiment, and thoy do the same. A rest is called to give tlio man carrying the rations a "blow." No smoking is allo*.ved. and you are very thirsty and sleepy. At last you reach, j tho "dug-outs" and are too tired to \ look round that night, and wait till the morning. Well, after that you see a lot of big drains liko a maze, with

men leaning up against the side looking through portholes or a periscope, and some are cooking tea and an odd one blazes off a rifle eveiy half hour into the blue to let them* know in the opposite trenches that we aro 6till alive. You look through a periscope, and all you see is two wire foir>« (entangled) and a long row cf clay, and that is a modern battlefield. A dead cow or a dead German is perhaps pointed out to you, but you may not oven see that. Shot s into the air are fired all day, each side tries to sniiie the other, but unless some General orders an attack on either side you may sit and face each other day in and day out thinking what a. senseless game war really is. You think it may be a long way to Tipperary (but it looks a long way to Berlin), so that night you go out with the ration party, havi*** - n the event of no attack seen neither German nor the sign of a gun. Coming out a stray bullet perhaps gets you in the leg, and that is the end of the chapter for you for some time.