“HOW WE TOOK OVER”

New Zealand Times, Volume XLII, Issue 9720, 24 July 1917, Page 8

“HOW WE TOOK OVER”

FRONT LINE INCIDENTS BRITISH RELIEVE FRENCH IN THE TRENCHES. (Issued by War Office.) “We took that bit- over from tbs French in June.” You may hoar this sort of thing sometimes from a British officer homo on leave —that is, if you are fortunate enough to find him in a reminiscent mood; and you may in some cases catch just the glimmer of, a kindly twinkle in his eye as he says it. “We took over from the French”—it seems to strike a note which awakens pleasant recollections in the mind of the British officer, which will, I believe, continue to echo in the hearts of the soldiers, and perhaps deeper yet in the hearts of the two* peoples, long after time has ’ silenced the echoes of the greatest guns. “And what is it, like, taking over from the French?” i asked of one officer hoy (he did not even pretend to be more than nineteen). “Oh, its like taking over from our own people, only it’s much more, fun,” ho said. I sighed. This did not help, me in the least. I sliould not have thought that any of it was fun. But I persevered; and in time 1 got the story from him. It was an extremely disjointed story, often in a trench argot most difficult to understand and hamp. ©red by an exasperating, fear on the boy’s part that he might be boring me. But as I did extract something eventually, and as i know that what I extracted is true, I will give it to you hero much as he told it me. “Some of us went up first, in the day-time, you know, to have a look round before we brought the men up. We met the French officers at their Headquarters l —sort of Brigade Headquarters, I suppose —and jolly com fortable they’d made themselves, and jolly cheery they were. I’m hot much at French myself, but some of their officers could talk English pretty well. You know, they're not little chaps, as we always used to think. I’m not very small, but I should think they aver-,, aged higher than me. Well, there were drinks and smokes and chat in their headquarters, and I wouldn’t have minded staying there a month, but after a hit we pushed off, and went up to the front trench. The company commander very meanly bagged the French officer who could talk English, and I went along with a chap who knew about as much English as 1 knew French. Not ; but what ■! liked the chip. He was so cheery and full of chat—-French chat, of course—but I think I caught the general hang of it. He was great on the word ‘dug-out.' I should think he’d just learnt it. He pronounced it ‘duck-aput.’ Whenever we came to one he would wave* his hand and say ‘Duck-aout,’ and I would say, ‘Wee, duok-aout.’ I thought it would he rude to pronounce .it the right way, as if 1 were trying to correct him.

The Germans were shelling a bit, and a dud —a bad 'un, you know—fell, not very far from ue. He laughed at it like anything, arid said ‘Boohe souvenir.’ It seemed to tickle him no end. But they’re all as gay as birds. P ll l my head into one dug-out where cro about half a dozen poilus sitting about. I said, ‘Don’t get up, “ en j v®? course they didn’t understand, but I showed them what I meant with my hand, as a Frenchman might, you know, only I expect I didn’t do it gracefully as they do, hut more like an elephant waving his foot. They all smilled and showed their teeth: and said, ‘Bori jour. Monsieur’ in a sort of sing-song voice. Our Tommies would’nt have been a bit, like that if a French officer had ■ looked in. I mean they’d nays behaved all right, of ■ course, hut they’d have been Just stolid. ■ ‘‘l remember their officer was awfully amused at my-khaki pocket-hand-kerchief. He said, ‘Ah, youi; Government supply these that the enemy may not sea when you must blow yoiu nose? I said 'Wee,’ not being equal to explaining that I'd bought this one for myself. Also I wanted to change the subject and get the handkerchief out of the way, as it had been on duty for_ a fortnight, including a’good many fatigues like cleaning my pipe, and my revolver, and was badly in need of a rest. I think French officers have imostly wbate pocket-handkesfeUiaffe- . and really white, too, not that dark white which is worse.than dark khaki. They are mostly pretty smartly turned out.

. “When we’d had a good look round in front, and seen which was our bit and what it was like, we went back to their headquarters and had lunch. A jolly good lunch, too, , including an omelette and red wine and coffee afterwards. all top-hole. Perhaps they’d turned on an extra one for us, of because they wore coming out after, i stiffish time. Anyhow, I didn’t much mind whose idea it was. but wired in till I saw my skipper frowning at me. “Their commanding officer made us a charming little speech when w e left them, about leaving their ground in safe hands—l couldn’t repeat it exactly for my life, but it was jolly well put, jind I believe he meant it. My skipper’s a tough old nut, not much at making speeches, and he just said, ‘We won’t let you dowu.’ “Well, we took over at 10 o’clock that night. I led the men in, as I’d boon up in the day. At a place which we afterwards called Milo F.rid, my French .pal met us. I suppose he thought I’d eaten so much, lunch I shouldn’t find the way. We got the men in all right, and, of course, fill the French withdrew, their men and ours were, all jammed up in the trench together. They were funny. In no time they , were as thick as thieves. The Frenchmen were awfully interested in our men’s kits. They kept fingering the. web equipment to see what it was made of, and I heard one of our men say, ‘Here, BVancois, you’re tickling.’ Another seemed to know a little French, for .1 heard him say, ‘II ne faut pas toucher aux objets d’art.’ “I went up to a listening-post first to relieve their sentries there. It was very close to the German lines—only about ten yards away—so the men could not exchange any compliments, but the Frenchmen smiled at our chaps and nodded till their heads nearly came off. “When wo got back the French, withdrew their men. Our Tommies were as sorry as anything. They had been trying all their French words. ‘Bong’ was tho chief one, of course, but I heard one man produce ‘Bon-’ lonp.’ ‘Toulong,’ and the ‘Contlnong’l There was some exchange of

souvenirs—several of our men showed me little French badges, etc., the next day—and there was such an affectionate farewell between one Tomay and his French friend that I heard someone say, ‘Well, didn’t he kiss you?’ ‘No,’ came the answer, ‘but I gave him a packet of fags, and ’e give me these Bocbe buttons. Pretty good souvenir they make—eh?’ s

“That’s all about it, I think. Oh, there’s on©' rather good remark my sergeant made next day. ‘What a pity the Boche didn’t make an attack last night when we were all- together in the trench,’ he said. ‘We’d have given him a proper mixed ■ grill t