LIFE IN THE TRENCHES

Evening Star, Issue 16263, 4 November 1916, Page 9

LIFE IN THE TRENCHES

DANGERS OP "NO- MAN'S. LAM)."\ SOMTD AMUSING INCIDENTS. A young Aucklonder, wlkjso homo is fttStanley Bay, and who is now with his comrades in FVoncOj gives an interesting sketch, , in a letter to hi« relatives, of the conditions of trench lifo and some of the work our soldiers nro called upon to do. "Even in tto trees left standing clo*e to the firing lino, and with a branoh or two remaining," he says, " the birds have nests. The sparrows hang round our ' b'vvtcs * quite tamo, and twitter away and oat our scraps. A few rata and kittens livo in the Ircnchas, chasing rats nnd mice, and playing -with the '. fellows. As for tho rats, thoy're too tamo and strong for anything, nud carry away great lumps of ohecHo and nibble at them in front of you. Poppies grow galore along some of tho parapets and in "No illan'j Lard." In ono part of tho trench is a frtnal! oejnetcry, with roses growing. " I could not help laughing the other day. We gave .'Fritz' n big 'strafe' ono night, and blew all his barb wire up; and of ooursa the next night lie got a large crowd to worlc and fixed it all up. As kooii as our gunners finished their breakfast that morning they blew it nil down again. So no wonuetf tho war is not finished—that snrt of thing dees not give either side a fuir ohanoo. —Out Amongst the Wires.— " Some of ua were out ' winng' «. few nights ago. These are some of tho incidents that happen on such expeditions: The man in front of you falls into a hole. You trip over him and Land in a heap of thistles, and just then a flare goes up, and somo other fellow flops down flat, chucking his wire away, 'landing it, as a rule, on tho v, ack of your neck. And you can't 6ay anything, be- s cause Fritz will hear you! Still, somehow' "'■"* or other, the party gets out there mora or less complete, and f.ho work begins. Every lime you movo you make a noise which you feel quite sure can't holp but t)o heard from ' Verdun to ths ecu. Every clump of thistles is a Gorman crouching down; every rat crawling ihi-ough tho grass is a battalion o( Huns trying to surround yon, nud every pnft o( wind iis a gas attack. Every ilare. your own side put up is a confounded nuisance—- ' The bally idiots 1 Wonder who tho dnuoa put that upK Don't they know we're keroP' Every fiaro Frita puts \tp is a nightmare, a slsjiiat for the machine guns to open up on us. and a request for the artillery at tlui back to send over a couple of whinz-bangs. and n few uhr.ipnol. IJvery time you put jour eiitvynehing tool handle down you lose it, *j'.d every time you piok it up h*R somebody els-e'u. livery length of wire, you get ' hold of is t«ogled, every end % cut "off, Mid every inch is barbe'J. Thank goodness! our instructions are: ' Don't be <oo particular v;iUi it, hoys. It does not 'natter If it's a i:t loose, you know,' Loose! I'll gnnrantee It's loose enough to salJetfy tho ' worst woman in London.' —An Kxeiting Experience.— "But wo gat on with it, working for all we're worth while it's dark, and keeping more motionless than Madame Tu-ss-aud'a W&svorks when it's light. It's like the city of death, when a flare goes up, Wo ail slay as still ae still. Whatever your position, it does not do to move; it's best to May as you are, and make a row like a piece of grass or tree stump. Fritz enn'o pick you up so easily then. You see fellows in* ail sorts of positions—lying down, pitting, kneelhig, standing, leaning over their wire, o* with their entrenching tool through a hole in a standard, screwing it in the ({round ;| chaps with a length of wire coiled above"-.. their heads like a halo; fellows scratching, their faces and taking their hats off, and beating mosquitoes away with their anna stretched out and mouths open. It's a most. peculiar scene. -Back to Safety.— " Sometimes when there's not much firing going on we think of Hilaire Belloc and his. statistics, and wo think after all he must bo right, and that Germany must ba getting ■• short" of men. And just then all the rifles and machine guns seem to open out, and we change our minds, and wonder how manj more reserves she's got. Anil if our owll machine guns don't, reply wc wonder why;' and when they do reply, their bullete cut« ting tho air just a loot or so above out heads, we wonder why they can't keep quiet —' drawing the fire round here.' An l then Fritz sweeps 'No Man's Laud' with a searchlight, and while wo stand still we take advantage of the light to look at our work. A currier says ' That's all the wire.' We pick up our tools and our courage. We get back to our own works, to remember that we've forgotten tho password; and the Benin', who knows us perfectly well, keeps us dithering about up there in full view of tho whole German army. We clamber in somehow, just about knocking ihc Gentry ever, upsetting a bo's of ammunition, and sotting; I lie gas alarm going, and grab our rifles and start oil for our ' bivvies,' thinking: 'Well, that finisher) my turn at wiring for a few night.*, anyhow,' when yon hear tho n.c.o. in charge say: 'Those chaps made such a good thing of it, I think I'll get tho «tme crowd out. again to-morrow night.' And you just get to sleep when the patrol wakes you up to 'Stand to.'"—Auckland 'Herald.'