DEVIL OF DESTRUCTION

Evening Star, Issue 16196, 18 August 1916, Page 8

DEVIL OF DESTRUCTION

/ ' < ■ •■ » ; THE WAR'S GREAT WASTE. COVERING A RETIRING ARMVi TRACKS

By CHARLES W. SIMPSON in 'Land and Water/

: A gloomy, unwashed man in a dirty uniform sat on a luggage trolly, note book in hand. He looked up as the engine whistled, and the long, heavily-freighted train, with its load of ammunition, began to move out of the station The tucks and waggons jerked noisily as the couplings tightened; a roaring cloud of siet-m shot forth in front of the engine, 'nnd spread, slowly fading, across the raiis. The gioomy man scribbled something in his note book and got up nneasuy; he was the officer in command of iha supply depot. When he raised his haa.l there' was nnother whistle; a fresh engine left the sidings and was coupled to another row of trucks on the main line. As each train left the officer stared after it for a few moments until it had par*ly disappeared in the damp, heavy fog "that lay thickly across the line and necessitarpd ..be use of the great arc lights in the goods yard; then he turned and look id towaris the crowded sidings. Tedious work this slow precession of trains—each one seeming to diminish by so little the mass of waggons awaiting their departure; but if it were slow, there was method in the slowness, and grr,dua ; ly the sidings became less congested. Drivers and firemen went about their v;-rk apathetically, in no way disturbed by the. confusion that unavoidably ensued' in bandling this huge mass of rolling stock Mostly civilians, they were merely milying out their habitual duties, and were insusceptible to the strain and stress of war. There was little Test ?or anvone at the supply depot, from the officer in command to the platelayers and fatigue gang.-,. All the stores of food, forage, and ammunition Were to be rushed out of ;he junction &nd conveyed to a point—not expressly mentioned—somewhere up the main line. Besides the rows of already laden trucks, huge piles of flour sacks we're stored under shelters roofed with iron sheeting in the goods yard; stacks of hay an 1-straw, covered with tarpaulin, bulked up in the mist; and beyond them were ramparts of crates and cases of every description—tons of frozen meat and tinned stuffs; rations enough to keep an ormy in the field for weeks. It was a giant's task to move this mountain of supplies, and thr> energy with which : t was bem? attempted indicated a crisis calling for siiDi-eme effort. The O.C. left his seat on the trolly for Hie fiftieth time, walked down the platform,, and stopped at the • door of the

" I vii la !' ghed an<! (loared his throat, iil lot you ami your .janfr of incenn.anes in t>y midnight—not any sooner, mind- Till then, so long." ~ rhe , 9;°- waJked back *° his trolley on the platform.

The Northern Army was changing its bnse. Alter throe days' severe fitting, Productive of no dollnitc result, it had i.tirwl on the junction during the nUht, and its loader hod resolved on a desperate course. Seven miles up the line was a ...road river in floyd : across it the remains of an iron girder bridge stood out '•t the water, twisted and bent by th« WM,° f 'i Pent "P l ™™- 11' is bridge imcl been destroyed early in the war, and tno junction, with its supply depot, captured by the very army whose safety was low threatened. To move the supplies up line by ra.l w;>* now in,possible, and should the enemy win back what he had lost his s.arvmc- army would gain a new lease of |i. e, and would be able to very seriously harass the rearguard of the Northern -mm-, and possibly to inflict severe losses or even defeat, At all costs the supplies n.-id to be removed or destroved and the enemy starved out. The position of the .Northern Army was critical, because it nad only succeeded in holding its opponents in check and fighting a drawn battle ; another desperate onslaught from the enemy, and the ji-nction miirht be lest. f+v. er dockled on t!i e destruction of the supplies and a retirement across the river.

station master's office. In response to his call a slim youth with a small black moustache, that grew very .close under his nose. and avoided his upper lip altogether. came briskly to the doorway—it was clear that he was not' a railway official. In shirt sleeves, a pencil stuck behind one ear, and papers bulging from his pockets. he was still an unmistakable junior sub., of callously cheerful demeanor, in spite of the dark rings under his eyes. " Tick off the ammunition as done with." eaid the senior officer " and now," headded savagely, " we've got to clear out the grub." "Right, sir!" answered the sub., brightly. "The swine won't find much left here if we go on at this rate, will they?" he chuckled with glee. "Poor, hungry devils, swotting their hides off to get here in time, and then—er" (casting about for some felicitous phrase) "an empty cage—bird flown." He chuckled again. "let me see the lists," said the other.

unmoved by the spirit of pleasantry; "we must look sharp. What comes next? Ah, yes; thirty truck-loads of barley and forty of wheat, besides the stock in tho yard " As the two men stood in the doorway

of the office, a third, who was pacing , rapidly up the platform, approached them? He pulled up sharply, and, taking a quick glance round the station, shrucged his - shoulders with an air half of indecision and half of impatience. He turned to the O.C.

" Look here, old chap; can you finish the job in eight hours? My men want to get to work on the line." The newcomer was very hot and very dusty; his tunic and shirt were open, showing his chest glistening with sweatdrops. In one hand he carried a large adjustable spanner; his face and arms were smeared with black train oil. "Well, you can see what progress we've made," replied the officer; " those sidings were crowded this mornig—and look at 'em now." He waved his hand towards the goods yard. "H're, yes but it's time we ripped np those rails," said the other, eyeing a maze of shining metals, cleared of trucks and waggons. "My gangs have been at work fourteen hours; we've burnt thousands of sleepers, with rails stacked on fop. Gad ! how they blazed, and they're still redhot."

" The rearguard struck camp this morning, and are now on the march in the wake of the army. I was given until midnight to clear all the snpolies: you can emash and burn the whole place then, you devil of destruction—make a bonfire ns hot as hell, and then save vonr hides." The destroyer smiled, nibbing his chin thonehtfully.

"Ah! it'll be a fine sight," said he; "a deuce of a fine sight." "Fine sight!''' retorted the O.C. "You've got no sentiment, man. Blasted •wrecker! Now then," lie shouted to a 'driver as the next tram beean to roll outof the junction ; " full speed ahend—give her as much steam as she'll take."

Then he left the office in company with ' the engineer, and the two men watched the. scene from just outside the station. A dreary scene; one of those sights which, though not actually concerned with human misery, give an acute impression of the horror and desolation of war, and of that ghastly element in war—waste. Looking down the line the countrv was "half obliterated by the grey fog. Groups of men were moving among what at first sight appeared to be great piles of rubbish—a closer inspection showing that they were composed of rails and sleepers stacked together. Blots of. dull red here and there showed that the piles were still smouldering, and at times the charred wood broke away with a faint, muffled sound, or the hot petals cracked. A scarcely-heard rambling indicated that fires were yet burning in the centre of the piles. Further away columns of smoke, flecked by shooting 'flarr.es, Tose from other bonfires. Picks rang on the broken railroad, where lines of men were working with rhythmic strokes. For miles round the earth was trodden by the hoofs of horses and the feet of marching men, crimped by the wheels of guns and waggons; hedges and gateways demolished, and grass borders stamped if.to mud. On the far ridge 3 the clearing mist mixed with the 6moke of camp fires left by the retiring rearguard. "We've done pretty well, don't yon think? Not the jolliest sort of place to lead a starving army over, is it?" The speaker buttoned his tunic and put the spanner in his pocket. "The dreariest spot I ever wish to gee," replied the other. _ " Come; I must pet back to my job—it's more irksome than yours. I wish I could set a match to my show and burn it up," he went on, in a mood of partly assumed exasperation. '■ Better fun than sending off all these _— trains." "Ho, ho!" .6aid the engineer, "how about sentiment now? Weli; I'd burn it if I had my way; but yours is no doubt the better, method—only slow,' devilish clow. And I must say I want. to light " those straw stacks. Some reward for mj labor then;. and, oh Lord 1 won't thej '. y»M blaze t"

All through the first night troops had marched past the depot on their way to the river, where the pontonniers were laving bridges for their crossing. It was now evenina; no troops remained on the junction side of the river except the cavalry, .screening the army's movements. The second night of the retreat was drawing on, and the work -of destruction 'at the junction was nearlv complete. Just an hour before midnight the last train steamed out of the station loaded to its utmost capacity with provisions and stores, the man with the spanner was given the order to let loose his hordes of wreckers; already clouds of smoke rolled up thickly into the night from the fired buildings; straw stacke burst into sudden flame, casting showers of sparks over the surrounding piles—sacks of flour that had been abandoned and masses of frozen meat. Everything combustible was soon in a blaze; crash followed crash as the buildings collapsed, sending forth immense bursts of fire and smoke; a strong wind fanned the conflagration to fury, and blew wisps of burning straw through the darkness. There was a loud crackling now, a sound of hissing and tearing, as the destroyer worked apace. The men, who had accomplished their tasK, now made all haste to follow M.cir friends to safety. A light engine, followed by trucks, moved up the line; on the trucks were swarms of grimy fibres huddled together, some with their dangling over the edge of the trollies, others lying asleep on the floor-boards. 1 heir hands were eoro and blistered ; a'.l were parched with thirst a-.d weak from exertion

As they glanced back they saw a red wavering glow in the southern skvhne. i'ew among them thought of the thousands of exhausted and hungry men out in the night—they, too, might have seen the glow in the sky and have guessed what it meant: the death of their hopes, the loss of that for which thev had fought so desperately and suffered "so much. True, the enemy was miles away, busy with his dead and wounded after the three-days' battle; but hunger would not let ham wait long, and even then he might have been advancing to wrest, if possible, some remnant of his prize from the burning. through the small hours of the morning, while the work of destruction was proceeding at the junction, a steady stream ot soldiers, guns, and waggons filed across the river. A mile below the wrecked girder bridge two others had been constructed on pontoons; they were placed c<ose together—one on canvas boats for the infantry; the other, a more solid affair on wooden pontoons, for the artillery and transport. In the pale dawn-light, seen through the belts of mist that rose from the water and from either bank, the troops had an almost spectral appearance as they marched over the bridges, with no sound but their steady tread and the resonant rumbling of wheels as the guns and transport crossed on the pontoons. Regiments ot infantry filed in seemingly endless procession from hank to bank; many of the men, slightly wounded, with head or limbs m bandages. Some of the gun shields were dmted—wounded men sat clinging together on the limbers. The batteries were followed by convoys of grey waggons, motor transport, and ambulance cars. The army had marched from the scene of the three-days' conflict lest an undecided battle should be turned into defeat and disaster; it had laid waste its paths and covered its tracks, and all that could not be taken away was destroyed. By midday half the army was across the river. And all the -while, behind them, train arter train had rolled up from the southward, until on both lines something like two miles of engines, trucks, and waggons extended along some hundreds of yards from the river bank. Then towards "evening, alter the last of the troops, save a few squadrons of cavalry, had crossed over the river, began an amazing work of destruction.

The girder bridge had spanned the river at a point, some little distance below the pontoons, where the banks were high and steep, and where tho drop into the river below was precipitous. Towards the wrecked bridge two trains began to move o-.z tho two parallel lines Of rail; at first slowly, then faster, until they leaped the bridgehead and crashed down through the shattered ironwork into the swirling water below. There was a roaring detonation as some of the ammunition exploded, throwing up a . bursting cloud of mud, water, and splinters. Two more trains were already coming on—this time from a rather greater distance—and thev, too, plunged down thunderously into the flood —now thick with debris. '■ Then two more —faster; and so on, two by two, until the river was choked and glutted with wreckage. The drivers stuck to their engines until they had got the trains moving steadily, and, then, jerking the throttlelevers down, they sprang from the footplates and left the trains to clatter forward to destruction. Graduallv the piled wreckage began to show above "the water; grim, distorted shapes of bent iron that seemed to gesticulate forlornly. Crates and boxes came loose, and spun down on the flood; and the wreck and waste continued until every train had disappeared over the brink. At dusk the drivers and stragglers crossed the light bridge, while the pontonniers hurriedly dismantled the larger pontoon after a few squadrons of cavalry had crossed. A small charge demolished the lighter structure, and the work was complete. The retiring army had covered its tracks by ruthless waste—but waste that meant salvation.