SOLDIERS MARCHING

Dominion, Volume 10, Issue 2982, 20 January 1917, Page 8

SOLDIERS MARCHING

THE " STRIDE--STRIDE--STRIDE!"

A SOUND THAT NEVEE VARIES

[By Will Lawson.l This morning tho Twenty-second Infantry Reinforcements will march i?to Trentham Camp, thus concluding their journey, begun last Thursday morning, from Featherston to their home camp, for Trentham is the tome camp of the infantry. The troops will march -with extra swing and dash through the camp gates, yet their stride will be the samo tireless 0110 that lias carried them on many a long mrreh—tho stride—stride —stride which bitomes a familiar sound in'the neighbourhoods where troops go marching. But the civilians who hear it and listen and watch till the troops go past, do not know how that steady sound of boots on gravel permeates the being of a body of marching troops. It is ill tho ears of officers and men all the time, only the first few front files in the column, who are able to see the roadway ahead, are not obsessed by it.'' On the march, at every quarter-hourly halt, tho leading company falls to tho rear, and the second one takes the lead. It is much easier to march at the head of the column, and one of tho reasons is that the sound of the marching column is be-hind-the men—not ahead of .them and about them, as well as behind them. In the Night Marches. There is something irresistible, impressive in the sound of marching troops, especially at night. In tho stillness ttje stride—stride—stride can be heard a long way off, and on night marches there aro no other sounds, except tho whispering of orders, which is not a sound that carries far. Se the column comes into hearing; louder and louder grows tho beat of boots on tho gravel; and then it passes away, grows fainter and fainter in the distance, and one realises that a large body of troops has passed, borne on thousands of hooted feet that made the same steady stride—stride—stride that is the symbol of marching men.' It would BCein strange to a civilian to be suddenly placed between two marching companies. He would think, at first, that tho noise of the boots would subside presently; no doubt the men ahead of him and behind him were crossing rough metal. Then he would realise that the sound was the usual accompaniment of marching. It would fascinate liini, this ceasolcss. beat that came from far ahead, and could bo heard far behind him, and seeming to warn all, other sounds away.

"Stride —stride — stride — stride I" Never a miss in the regular beat! It would perhaps come to the civilian that ho would like to stop it, if only foran instant; would like to hear a mis-step. The Miss-step Man. 'A' man in a file not far ahead of him has done it—ho is out of step. But one man's footbeats are unheard in the great unison of thousands of footbeats. '

"Pick up the step! Pick it up, third file!" says the corporal, who marches at the rear with the, platoon comThe soldier. ' a new man, hitches into stride again. "B.y tho left,"; says the platoon commander, and the machine-like regularity goes on, the throb—throb—Si rob that is the pulse of a living army. It is when the soldiers sing that this pulse becomes a rhythmic swing, a metronome that steadies the tune and gives tho time. Sometimes very rarely troops returning to camp from night manoeuvres or marching are allowed to sing; and tlmt is when a touch of mystery .thrills those who hear the troops pass in the' distance. The Stride— stride—stride has a lilting lightness under the starlight, and the tune that is, at present, the soldiers' favourito marching measure, fits admirably. Across the quiet paddocks and beyond the shadowy trees the music of * tho voices rings, "The long—long—trail—goes winding"-—■ And the. purposefulness of marching disciplined men sounds through tho haunting music, the stride—stridestride of tho; hardy infantry, the backbone of our army.