“THAT A MAN SHOULD LAY DOWN.HIS LIFE.”

Gisborne Times, Volume XLIX, Issue 4768, 16 January 1918, Page 6

“THAT A MAN SHOULD LAY DOWN.HIS LIFE.”

A SACRIFICE IN THE DESERT.

(By Second-Lieutenant F. J. Sleath.) Afew years ago the' Avorld Avas thrilled by the story of the heroic death of Captain Oates, a member of the ill-fated Scott Expedition to the Antarctic, who Avalked out into the midst ol a Avinter blizzard and died, that his comrades might have his share* of the dAA’indling supplies. The records of the Avar have slioavu that this glorious incident Avas no mere accidental episode in the tale of the achievements of our race; that Avlierever the sacrifice is demanded Britons will lay doAyn their lives for the sake of their kin. This is tlie story of a British officer, an airman, Avho died by his oavii hand that his comrade might live. He Avas on a long distance reconnaissance over the African desert, Avlien a mishap to his engine forced him to descend. A mechanic Avas with him as observer, and for hours the two airmen labored to make good the defect in their machine. But the damage proved irreparable. They had at length to give up the task, and set themselves down to wait for succour. On these fronts, when an aeroplane fails to return, a second machine is sent, out to search for its overdue sister. As a rule the rescue of the missing airmen is easily effected, though sometimes there arc tragedies. In this case the approach of hostile tribesmen compelled the airmen to abandon their machine, and after destroying it. they slipped aAvay into such hiding-places as the desert in that part afforded.

No British soldier willingly falls into the hands of these desert allies of the Germans. The atrocities which they have been known to perpetrate on their unfortunate prisoners, even when German and Turkish regular officers have been with them, are all against the desirability of self-sur-render. In any case, the sporting instinct of the average Briton leads him to snatcli at an v chance of escape, however desperate it may be. The plight of this pilot and his mechanic was desperate enough; no food, very 7 little water, and a journey of several days, over country of the most difficult description, between them and their friends. Yet they coolly planned their course by the air of a prismatic compass, and set out on the long tramp to safety 7. For three days they' journeyed on, drinking their precious water drop by drop. Their supply could not be replenished. No r did the desert afford them any food. Its sole vegetation was the little, stunted, thorny shrub which flourishes- there despite all laws of normal growth. Occasionally their path was traversed by the dried-up channel of a long-dead stream. The suggestion of the life-going rivers once flowing there only increasd their misery. .Sometimes, however, these mullahs gave them shelter while eaglc-ey 7 ed tribesmen swept over the horizon. As far as the eye could reach stretched golden, undulating sand, with here and there a huge grey boulder to add to the aridness of the scene. By day the pitiless sun, by night the cold, ghastly moon, and the glittering stars watched the madness of the desert steal over them.

At the end of the third day the officer dispassionately summed up the situation. Barely half of the distance had been covered. Nearly all the water was gone. One man might complete the journey on the remaining supply. Two men could not possibly do so. His companion was lying asleep by hi s side. The officer did not rouse him to discuss the situation. Comrade though this man was in a desperate adventure, he was a private. It was for the officer to decide who should go on, and who should stay 7 behind. When the mechanic awoke the officer had disappeared. A note was lyiny beside him. In it his superior had ordered him'to take toe remaining water and proceed on his journey. There was nothing sentimental about the epistle. It was couched in the ordinary, matter-of-fact language with which an English officer addresses a man of his command. But after writing it the English officer had gone out into the desert and blown Ins brains out. He died to give his man a better chance of life. It was his privilege to do so. Now was his sacrifice in vain. After days of almost incredible suffering the mechanic was saved, and with him the story. On all the fronts of Britain’s far-flung armies men are whispering the tale to each other; and history will take it as a very precious leaf, and add it to the glorious wreath of self-sacrifice which the years have woven to toe honor ot the British soldier.