HORSES UNDER FIRE.

Lyttelton Times, Volume CXVII, Issue 17947, 14 November 1918, Page 6

HORSES UNDER FIRE.

He is no inconsiderable member of His. Majesty's Forces, is tho old war horse. He is doing his bit in a hundred ways that should bring the blush of same to tho cheeks of tho pacifist and tho "conscientious" objector. Whether he bo a gunner or a cavalry mount, a company commander's charger or a mere drawer of G.S. waggons, ho is a very important item hi tho parade state of an army. And when ono speaks of the war-horse ono must not forget his humbler and moro obstinate cousin, tho war-mule.

It is good to know that he is well looked utter. His drivers aro his pals, and. as all good drivers should, they attend to his comfort before they attend to their own. I remember one transport driver whose horse was killed whilo it was out with another man. He went across half a mile of bad'ly shelled country and risked a deadly hail of indirect •machine-gun fire, just to say a last good-bye to his dead paljt'hey had had their good and bad times together. He could not bear that the horso should "go west" without a word of farewell. These horses are "real British" in their behaviour under firt. You. will Mid horses in G.S. waggons at the unloading dump standing calmly quiet while the road is being heavily shelled not a hundred yards awav. The only thing they get really annoyed about—and in this they are at ono with their human "opposite numbers"—is gas. They have their own gas respirators, and thoy hate them. These are flannel bags that so over the upper jaw, covering the nostrils, and the horse hates moro than anything else to have a. mouthful of ammonia-soaked rag to bite upon. Still, he is a well-discip-lined fellow, and, realising: that the inconvenience is for his own welfare. puts up with it with a good enough grace. . <•' I do not think you will find many horsemen in France who do not carry Homo unconsidered lumps of sugar in their pockets for the delectation of their mounts. I know one moss-carfc driver who for an hour every night used to have a thoroughly confidential chat with his horse and toll it all about the troubles at homo and the worrying incidents of the day. 1 almost think the horso understood! The war-horse is one or our staunnhest allies, ono of our most faithful fel-low-compaigner*. Let us sec to it that ihe is not "scrapped' alter the war!