HEROES IN THE FIGHT

Taranaki Herald, Volume LXIII, Issue 144711, 21 June 1915, Page 4

HEROES IN THE FIGHT

A CHAPLAIN ON THE BRITISH SOLDIER.

For books of actual experiences in tho war from the pons of combatants in tho great struggle we must wait till tho termination of the conflict. A In tic? volume. which lias just appeared under the title “With French in France and Flanders,” published by Mr. C.’hmios .11. Kclh, London, comes as near to such a narrative ns wc nro likely to get for some time to come. It is written by the Rev. Owen Spencer Watkins, a Wesleyan chaplain attached to the J4th Field Ambulance. A chaplain is not a combatant officer, hut when a chaplain has, like Mr. Watkins, been with the Army through tho rctioat from Mods, at the battle of the -Maine, all through the lighting on the Aisnc and at Vpivs and Armentioros. always within a mile or two of the front, and often under fire, burying the dead, and ministering to the wounded within sound and range of the guns, lie has almost as many opportunities of seeing tilings .rS' first hand as those who are carrying rilles ayd manning the trenches. Mr. Watkins’ volume, consisting largely of letters written home to ids church magazine, is one of the most intimate ami I'ligrosaing of the hooks that have so far been written iu connection with the war.

It carries tho reader from the beginning of operations up to the end of lasi year. From first page to last it is a splendid testimony to the magnificent valour and indomitable spirit‘of our soldiers. We are introduced first lo them in the dreary days after Mens, when, wearied, footsore, and hungry they were retreating before overwhelm ing numbers on Fans. Even amid tho discouragement of that retreat there was no thought, Mr. Watkins tells us, among them but of resuming tho offensive.

EAGER FOR THE CONFLICT

‘‘Constantly the question I was a*ked was: ‘Whin are they going to let us halt and have another go at them, sir:'’ or. ‘1 suppose it’s a trap we’re . leading them Germans imu; wvTo the bait so to speak, and tho French nil this time are getting in behind them.’ Oh, hut it was fine! My eyes have often filled with tears as J have lisle nod to and watched them —rugged, footsore, bearded, dirty and unkempt, gaunt-eyed from lack of sleep, but uphold by that invincible spirit which is tho glory of our British race.”

Then came the turn of tho tide on Sunday, September 6, when the retreat came to an end, and faces won* turned northward again. . “There was a new spring in ibe men's stop as we marched through Tournan and took the road which led us through tho midH of iho beautiful forest of Crecy. As 1 redo along, constantly the men. looking up from Gig ranks." said: ‘Good morning, sir- WoTc going in the right direction this time. Go yon think wc shall have a fight today?’” ' “The enthusiasm of the men. he tells us, “was tremendoustheir one l’»*nr was that iho nulhoritfis should imagine that they were too worn out to pursue or fight. Tlang il nil, sir,’ one man sc.’d Lo me. ‘if wc can do thirty miles a day without food in a retreat, we could Jo fitly iu an advanced ” Thar spirit lasted 'through the weeks of fighting on the Aksne. \Wien the scene was shifted northwards to Flanders, and the titanic battle of Yprcs and Armcntiere.-, began, the men’s words were le.-s hopeful, but not less determined. Mr, ‘Watkins relates how iu tiday- of November iu the. trenches, where a thin line of men wore desperately holding back the Kaiser’s great effort on Calais, the talk was all about Kitchener’s’new Army and the question was. “When are they lo appear?" “If they don’t come :-onn.” was the common remark, “they wii! find none of ns left to reinforce.” But even then, when the strain was almost unbearable, there was no thought of yielding. Hero is a sinking, little pen picture of the Fourth Division called out by a sudden attack from tho rest quarters to which it had been sent the day before after a mouth’s continuous fighting:—

PLEXTY TO FIGHT IN THEM,

“We had hardly finished breakfast when orders came that we must march at once to Les Facons, for the Germans wore making a vigorous attack on our 'trendies, and we were to act ns reserves in case they broke through. It was only a throe miles’ march, but 1 was filled with admiration nt tho marching of onr men ; tho infantry wont by with a swing that was simply marvellous when you remembered how long they had beeii in the trendies, and I h'sud several say, ‘Aren’t they wondered? There’s plenty of light left in them yet.’ “But their faces—l don’t like to think of their faces; and in their eyes tiiero was a look that frightened me. Wo all noticed how old they looked. One young officer, standing next me, said:. ‘Do you notice Padre? You couldn’t tell tlie age of any of these follows — it might bo anything. Look at that chap; 1 don’t suppose he’s more than eighteen, and yet by tho lines on his faco yon would, say ho was between thirty and forty.’ And 1 for one thanked God that they had been relieved before nervo and brain had given way under the incredible strain that had been put upon them.” Another passage deserves quotation as illustrating the spirit that uphold our soldiers in these dark days:—

‘As tho wounded flowed in upon us. and were attended to in the dressingstation, we hoard incredible tales of tho valour and .stubborn tenacity of our troops. One told of bow tlie Irish Rifles were first nearly blown out of their trenches with lyddite, then sprayed with shrapnel, after which tho enemy charged, breaking right through our lino, and exposing both the flank and the rear of the M iltshire Regiment. But both regiments re-formed and charged with tho bayonet. ‘And thtni. sir. of course, wo just made hay of ’em. and the whole bang lot was scuppered.’ “Another night it was the Devonshire Regiment, who, it was reported, had captured Nenvo-Chapelle at tho pebit of the bayonet, but suffered 1- rlb.e Joss, but had punished the Gen a ns so badly that they had lied, lea\ . g 7’o dead behind them. On v«T nether evening wo wore flooded with v junded from the Manchester Regiment, all, iu spite of their ghastly hurts, in tho highest of spirits. ‘For, you see, explained n corporal, ‘ue’ve n-giv-ing of ’em some of their own back. \Vo did the attacking to-nighK and though

our loss is very heavy, we fair gave ’em sucks with the bayonet.’ ” CAPTURE OF A GERMAN SPY. There are brighter touches at intervals in the narrative, one of which is furnished by an exploit of the corporal in charge of the ambulance ration cart, who captured a German .spy: — “'i ke corporal was coming along the road in his cart when he noticed an officer in a field just off the road, sweeping tho country with his field-glasses, so he said lo the driver. ‘Hum thing that, ain’t it. male:' If he was looking for aeroplanes 1 could understand it. but why should he be examining our own lines D’ y’ think he’s a spy?’ “Not him. Why, it’s broad daylight, and he’s in the uniform of the Duke of ‘Yes, but lie’s a queerlooking bloke. He don’t walk like an officer, and Ids doilies don’t seem as ii ibey belonged to bun. I ain’t ever seen a officer like that before. Fm,going to speak to him.’ So, stopping the cart, the corporal got off, and. walking over to the officer, saluted, saying. ‘Beg pardon, sir, bm can you toil me the nay to Ricbebourg ?‘ To which the supposed officer replied, ‘Me don’t know.’ Toiling tho story afterwards the corporal said, ‘Before he opened his lips I knew he was a wrong Tin, for ho badn t got on Ids Sam Browne bolt collect. but when he spoke I was sure. •Still, 1 didn’t think I had any right to arrest him, me wearing the Red Cross, so I looked about, and saw there was a mounted officer coming down tho road, followed by an orderly, so 1 kept on miking to the chap till the officer was abreast of us. Then I shouted to him, ‘Beg pardon, sir, here’s a man wearing the uniform of an officer of the Duke of M eilinglon’s. and ho can’t talk English! Bit suspicious, ain’t it. sir?’ The officer was a Major of the Gunners, and ac rides over and says. ‘T hank yon, corporal. this is tho gentleman I’m out looking for.’ So they marched him off, and I suppose lie was shot at dawn.” GERMAN SNIPER’S EXPLOITS. Like other observers. Air. Watkins testifies to the übiquity of the German spy and of the sniper, who, to do him justice. often heroic enough. Tho capture of one of those men is related as follows: "A detachment of infantry found aGerman soldier, in full uniform, hiding in the roof of an empty house. For ten days lie had lived in our lines, his only food raw potatoes, and every night he had gone forth to do his deadly work. Ho said that the company to which ho Had belonged had been nearly exterminated in, a recent night attack; only tea men were loft. So the Colonel hail sent for them and said, ‘You arc no good as a company, so you had better all get off into tho Eng.ish lines; you will be more useful there as “snipers” than you are here.’ and they went, though each knew that ho would never return. “Our men talking of it afterwards said, ‘Of course, wo should have shot aim, not taken him prisoner—he’d killed seven of .ours besides those he’d wounded. But lie looked so miserable and hungry that wc gave him some oully beef and bread, and when he’d wolfed that wc gave him some cigarettes, and then'marched him off to the Provost Marshal.’ Which tiling is characteristic of Tommy Atkins, God bicss fiim!” One of the most touching incidents narrated by Mr. ’Watkins occurred in the advance from tho Marne to the Aisne. lie was laying to his last rest a soldier of a British regiment. “Before the service was over shraonel ‘was bursting on the hill. As the final ‘Amen’ fell from my lips, and 1-stood for a moment looking down on all that was left of that fine young manhood, one of the old French peasants, forgetting his fear of tho thundering guns, stepped to the graveside, and as lie cast earth upon the prone body with his bands, with wonderful dignity lie addressed the sleeper. As far as I could understand his words, he. said: ‘Von are a brave man and our friend. You nave given your life for our country. Wo thank you. May yon sloop well m the earth of beautiful France.’ And jio others said ‘Amen.’ ‘ Despite iho many sad episodes he lias to record, Mr. Watkins has written a wonderfully heartening and inspiriting book, tho record is so entirely houourabU to tho men of that splendid Expeditionary Force. ‘‘Through all the sordid horror of those days,” ho writes, “there runs, like a golden thread, the magnificent bravery of our men, their dogged tenacity, their never-wavering purpose to hold on to the end. How proud I have been that I could claim them as my brothers—that 1 also was British.”