"RUNNERS."

New Zealand Herald, Volume LIII, Issue 16372, 28 October 1916, Page 2 (Supplement)

"RUNNERS."

A TOUGH JOB. TARGETS FOR MACHINE-GUNS. Tub following article tells of the " runners'' who carry important messages in the front trenches. Private J. Miller, whose V.p. was recently announced, was one tf this heroic band. He was ordered to take an important message and bring back a reply at all costs. Seriously hit almost immediately, he compressed with his hand a gaping wound in his abdomen, delivered his message, staggered back with the answer, and fell dying at the feet of the officer to whom he delivered it. In trench warfare, where flag-wagging is impossible and the telephone wires may be broken at any moment by shell fire, runners are used to maintain communication between commanders of units and the directors of operations. The position of runner" is eagerly sought after by the keen young soldier, who delights in the adventures which will, he knows, so often crop up. Every officer in a regiment has one or more runners attached to him, the number increasing with the higher ranks. The trench work of a runner is not by any means arduous as long as telephone communication is unimpaired. It is in an advance that he is put to the greatest test; for, in addition to taking his chance in the charge which captures a trench, he is almost certain to have to carry messages across the open under heavy fire. There are times when it is of vital importance that messages should be got through from a captured trench to the O.C. operations, and in the probable event of a breakage of the telephone wire this dangorous duty devolves on the runners.

The British infantry have victoriously I occupied the shell-mangled trenches from which they have evicted the Boche. fhe work of consolidating the captured position is proceeding feverishly. The air is filled with the swish of bullets from -.he German machine-guns, which play ceaselessly on the cover their adversaries are with difficulty erecting. These machine-guns, at present, make a further advance impossible; and officers are carefully locating their position. As soon as the various emplacements thev occupy have been detected, information will be sent back to the gunners, enabling them to knock them out. The officer in command of a certain section of the captured trench has completod his observations and writes a short despatch—in triplicate, for good reasons. " Runner!" he ejaculates. A man immediately approaches him. "Take this to the"O.C.," says the officer. " You'll find him at — farm. You'll have a tough job, I'm afraid." A Good Bluff. "Very good, sir," returns the r.unner briskly. There is nothing in his tone to denote that he is about to attempt .in almost hopeless task. The moment he starts for the rear be knows that the enemy snipers and ma-chine-guns will concentrate upon him. Even if be escapes these he will still have a terrific barrage to traverse. Waiting a few moments till there is a lull in the enemy's fire, be sprints across the open. The officer turns away briskly to superintend the work of consolidation, but swings round at the cry : " He's down, sir." A glanco confirms the words, and the officer takes another despatch from his haversack. "Runner!" he exclaims in a mechanical tone. " Yes, sir!" The officer repeals his previous orders, " Need I lake my rifle and bandolier, sir?" inquires the runner. "No, leave 'em behind, 'Snips'!" returns his superior genially. " Snips" is not his real name, though he is so called by all tho men, and by his officers too on occasions such as this. Below middle height, he is young, and of wiry build,- with a sham, intelligent face. On the football field he has achieved fame, and at inside-right has in the past brilliantly helped to uphold the honour of the regimental team. There is a cheery smile on bis face as ho gets over the parapet to make a run on this other field— in this grimmer game. Instead of starting straight for his destination he sprints off at a tangent, then, turning in a flash, darts in another direction. The machine-guns are rattling away incessantly. The men cense their work for a moment to watch, as " Snips" twists and turns, dashes and darts in different directions, but all the time drawing nearer to bis goal. " Good old Snip s ! Poan'f pass, land ! Take the ball on yoursen !" Such were the laughing shouts which followed him. The rattle of the machineguns seems to increase in fury at their impotence to stop that dodging figure. Suddenly " Snips" pitches forward headlong. A husky groan comes from tho trench he has just left. "Runner."' ejaculates the officer in the same toneless voice as before. But a cry of : "Good lad! flood old Snips!" causes him to glance quickly in that direction; and ho sees his runner again dashing nn. "Lay doggo in a shell-hole to kid tlie Bncbe gunners," explains one of the men with pride. A few moments later " Snips" was jilt of danger of the machine-guns, but an even greater menace lay ahead. The enemy were putting a dense barrage between him and his destination- He kept on running till be reached the shrapnelsprayed zone he must traverse. Then lie deliberately slowed down to a walk, \ runner, according to their own code, may run under rifle but not shell fire. Luckwas with "Snips." for he passed through the inferno unscathed and delivered his despatch.