LIFE IN A BASE CAMP

Southland Times, Issue 17735, 13 August 1917, Page 3

LIFE IN A BASE CAMP

(By Horace Windham, author of “Follow-

ing the Drum.”) It is probably in a base camp well behind the firing line that the newly-arrived soldier spends his first few days in France. The atmosphere there is, certain to be very different from anything he has hitherto known, and he feels a little strange. But tiic British soldier is an adaptable person, and he soon shakes down into his fresh environment. Besides among the other occupants of the camp in which he finds himself there are sure to be a veteran battalion or two who have come down from the trenches for a rest. The old hands take the young hands under their protecting wing and promptly initiate them into the seeming mysteries of their novel surroundings. During ihe process they sometimes “pull their legs.” This also is not unhelpful. Scores of these base camps are scattered about France. Of course they differ in size, but each erf them is very similar to the others so far as go the arrangement, general system, and what may be termed the interior economy.

In certain respects these matters are much like those that have been left behind in England. Thus, each is a self-contained town, but built of canvas and wood instead of bricks anil mortar. It has its law courts (represented by orderly-rooms, its shops, its restaurants, its hospitals, its churches, its schools, and its places of amusement. Some of them are oven fitted up with picture palaces. Still they have their limits; and, so far, public-houses and whelk stalls have not been introduced into the scheme. There is one feature and a conspicuous one —which every base camp, wherever it may be situated, has in common with all the others—mud. But considering the nature of the ground on which such establishments are built, and the thousands of feet and hoofs and wheels to churn it up, mud is unavoidable. There it is, and one has to make the best of it. A good drainage system is the main thing; also paths and roads are carefully covered with cobbles and ashes, and baulks of timber are neatly arranged across the bigger morasses, so as to guard against the possibility of one’s learning from the local press some day of the “mysterious disappearance of a battalion, ’ lost while proceeding from the cook-house to 'he orderly-room.

The day at a base camp begins early. Reveille is at daybreak. In response to the summons, the numerous tents and huts are evacuated, and all hands turn out for a wash and shave. Then during roll-call and a spell of physical drill, the cooks are busy preparing breakfast. This like all the other meals in camp, is a substantial one, for our fighting men are well fed on active service. They have good food and plenty of it. After breakfast the camp has to be cleaned and the bedding aired, etc., preparatory to the commandant’s tour of inspection. Drill and parades fill up the morning for a soldier’s education is by no means completed with the training he has received at home. Ho may think himself an expert at musketry, bomb throwing, trench digging, and route marching, etc., but there is still a good deal of final polish to put on him. This is where a base camp comes in useful. Much the same programme occupies the afternoon. But for all this, the base camp yields a reasonable amount of leisure. Anyway one is generally free by tea time. This leisure is spent in various ways, according to individual tastes. If he can get a pass a man will probably visit the nearest town and see the sights; or spend an hour or two at a favourite estaminet, where he will mingle fraternally with the poilus gathered there. The language question does not trouble him particularly, for he finds everywhere a cordial good will to understand him which speedily triumphs over all minor obstacles. The coinage system, however, is a little more difficult, and he seldom quite grasps that a franc is not the same thing as a shilling. If, when the day’s work is finished, a man docs not go out for a walk, he probably spends the evening in the recreation hut. There is bound to be one of these in camp; and it is bound to be fitted np with a good supply of games, hooks and newspapers. Here the Iroops play draughts or chess, road papers and write letters, etc. The studiously inclined do their host to pick np a little French, and for this purpose seek the good offices of the camp interpreter, or pore over ‘‘conversational manuals.” An average base camp Ls a hot bed and forcing house of rumour. A fresh one is ou the tapis every five minutes. Most of them emanate from the canteen. Thus, Pte. Jones—who, as an orderly-room clerk, is considered by his comrades to bask in the closest confidence of headquarters—casually observes that “the Bodies have been biffed” somewhere. Instantly the entire German Army is said to have surrendered. Corporal .Smith “knows for a fact” because he saw the adjutant buying a picture postcard, that the camp is to he struck to-morrow; and Sergeant Brown is coually convinced that a peace conference Was held yesterday. No matter how often the prophets arc proved untrustworthy, they still have their adherents. Most occupants of a base camp are birds of passage of course. Flxcept for the permanent staff, nobody stops very long in one. People come, and people go all the time. When a battalion “gets the route” there is frantic excitement, lively body is as keen as mustard. To be left behind is unthinkable. The defaulters turn over a new leaf; the third class shuts develop hither.q unsuspected powers o! marksmanship; and the sick assure the, doctors that I hey are perfectly well. An anxious ihrong dog the footsteps of the commandant, and pester him with eager questions. Bloodthirsty subalterns practice with brand new revolvers and trench daggers, and lament the fact that they no longer carry sword-; and there is free beer for the veterans in camp who have already been privileged to sec the trenches are are prepared to discourse upon them to eager listeners. At last the eventful and anxiousU-longed-for moment, arrives. The battalion is assembled in column, a thousand strong. A brigadier comes lo bid them God-speed.

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