THE WAR ZONE.

Sun (Christchurch), Volume III, Issue 786, 17 August 1916, Page 2

THE WAR ZONE.

•> • AN INTERESTING NARRATIVE. ' FROM GALLIPOLI TO FRANCE. . A decidedly interesting and descriptive Idler has been written by a boy at the front to one of the commanding ollieers of the Ist Battalion of the Canterbury Mounted Bides. The following extracts, which. give a good idea of the recent doings of the New Zealanders, arc taken from the epistle:— . "1 had a fairly quiet lime on the pallipoli Peninsula after I went back, and never struck any particularly hot corners, although, of were odd few minutes a bit 100 full of excitement for my peaceful ways, when I did think it would be all right to have a 'conscientious objection' to war. and slay in New Zealand. Bui just when my thoughts got to that point, I'd remember Charlie's letter about the misguided residents of Tai Tapu giving me a medal, and he I old them how 'delighted' I would he to publicly express my thanks when 1 got home, and when I tried to picture myself in front of a hall full of jpeoplc, with my tongue paralysed and knees knocking together, well 'Old Jacko's' shells seemed quite amusing in contrast, and 1 didn't ■want the war to cease for years. "The last week, while the troops ■were going off, was a bit rotten. One crowd had to slay until the night before the last, and I was a bit surprised to find myself on the transport in one piece, as it seemed out of all reason not to he attacked before that, and it was a restless few days, just waiting, with nothing to ,do to occupy the lime. After we had ; destroyed all our gear, we could only { lust-wait for the Turks to come on, and I think il would have been far worse than the landing, and without the satisfaction wc had of knowing we were making good. It did seem rotten leaving like that, when we all knew that, even if il was a | bit rough there, sooner or later we J would get our own back, and chase ! 'Old Jacko' off his old Peninsula. When you thought of the fine old crowd you landed with, and the dose i of them you were leaving behind in j lillle graves all over the hills—some with a little wooden cross to mark them, some having a piece of a boxlid and their name written on with a pencil, or no mark at all, and lots out in front, just where they fell i months before—all sacrificed, so il j seemed, for nothing—you can under- j stand it was not altogether a happy trip down the dark valley that night. 1 am satisfied there is as much chance of stopping colonials gambling as old Canute had of slopping the tide rising. 1 have seen them playing "crown and anchor," a great j game with them (don't know if you fepfever saw il) in all sorts of unlikely w ~ places, even on the fire step in first line trenches. It was funny on the lonian, going back lo Egypt, when there was a church parade. The padre paused in the sermon, and in the middle of the silence came a yell! from behind the deck-house, "Who's! going to put a boh on the lucky old mud hook?" whilst straight on the bridge, and absolutely the nearest to the parson, was a ring of men gambling all the time, and. too straight under the parson for him to see them. It did look comical. . . . We had a good trip across to Marseilles?" although in a very unusual course, round Crete and along the south of Greece, past Sicily, Malta, Tunis, and Sardinia, quite a bit of sight seeing. We also zig-zagged all the way, so as to make things more awkward for old Wilhelru's submarines. We bad to wear lifebelts all the way from Alexandria to France, which rather spoiled my lying-on-the-deek caper. I wish the Kaiser could have had a look on one of those boals and seen how his scheme for frightening the British off the sea is working. We were in llic most risky and leastprotected sea where the submarines go, in a big, crowded boat, but no one seemed to worry at all about "tin-fish"; in fact a lot of chaps teemed anxious to see one, in order to give our 12-pounder a chance of a shot. There was a bit of a stir one day when she let go twice, but they were only practising on a box. The only way submarines were Spoken of was by joking of someone's swimming powers, or about j how many men could float on one fat man, or something of that sort. . . . • It would open your eyes to make a trip through the Mediterranean and, UP the English Channel and see the! dozens of steamers of all sorts and sizes thai are moving about, as if nothing were happening. I am hanged if I know why the subinar-' ines don't get 10 where they only get one, but I expect the men on the ■ North Sea know why. II gives me the "pip" sometimes when the "square heads" happen to get a few boats, to hear people reckon the Navy does not seem able to do much. But, holy Moses! you only need to see the shipping thai knocks about, lo see how absolutely it has gol "old i Fritz" settled. Yet you might al-' most think we never had a Navy for' all you might see—just an odd de-1 stroyer or a bit of a trawler with a pop-gun on the foc'sle. I'd give a jot to see the Grand Fleet, (hough! The one sample of it—the* big! "Lizzie"—which I did have Ihe luck I to see (with the golves off) seemed ! as if she were quite able to look; after herself, and there was quite ! a disturbance where her shells dropped. At times she was firing straight over our heads, and, although she was five or six miles out! liit sea, the blast from her guns' would fairly lift the top of your I bead, especially at times when she! bred several 15's at once. ... • We had two and a half days in a; troop train coming up, and the only' part of the trip I didn't enjoy was J during the two nights, for you had the same room to sleep on as sat on,! nnd it was just a case of going to j sleep and rolling on top of one an-1 otbe», and il took about half an hour each morning to sort out all the different limbs and spare parts. The eceuery was great,especially that part up Ihc- Rhone Valley, where the line,! more or less, followed the river along the bottom of the valley, which Consists mostly of downs, and is all jcultivated, rising in the background into a high uad rough line of hills covered in ptnes, but they not close together, so the rocks, which are White, show through them with a frery fine effect. . . . i am .s:>v.cv.;.;.i '.•; i 1!';--/;! al getting

off the mark now when I hear anything in Ihe air come fizzing along. Some of the "times" I put up along stretches of track where the "unspeakable Turk" used to snipe one, must have been well under 10 seconds per 100 yards, and even then I wasn't satisfied. Old Fritz is a bit free with his shells, and whatever else he may be short of, it isn't them. Some of the "quiet limes on our front" are enough lo put your hair on end. Outside shells, though, it is a lot more comfortable where we are! now than the Peninsula was. We J are billeted in a good lump of ai town, somewhere about the size of Timaru, most of which is still standing, although there are a lot of the new open-work roofs which are all the fashion in Flanders this year. Plenty of civilians still live here, and shops and wine shops are still open, so you can come in from work in the trenches —about an hour's walk, and go into town shopping, and seeing the sights, or even go to (he kinema. We get fairly decent tucker, have a good building to bil-! let in, and plenty of water, so we can keep properly clean. ... | You don't sec any fit men about j in France out of a uniform, and nearly all the work is done by-old I men, * boys, and women. About every other woman is wearing l i mourning, and it brings it home to one more than anything else the terrible toll which the war is taking, and, unfortunately, taking il out of the physically, and largely also the (mentally, best class of Ihe country. It must have a very lasting effect, I should think, on the different countries scrapping, . . . I seem to have got out of the habit of thinking of this war as something with an end. I think this would suit the old Vikings. They would think j it was Valhalla, and with the pubs] so close to the trenches they could! live right up to their ideal of a heaven where you fought all day: J and drank all night. I think the man who composed "Let Me Like a j Soldier Fall" must have had a rum I sort of ambition. I have no great hankering for anything of Ihe kind j myself; besides, "fall" is not a very good word lo describe it, as sometimes —most likely—you gel blown up. There are two different sorts of j war, one sort as the average poet or composer of patriotic songs sees it, and the other sort, as the soldier sees it. I think I prefer the first variety, and let it be in a concert hall in a comfortable seat.