WITH "KITCHENER'S MOB."

Waikato Times, Volume 87, Issue 13245, 29 July 1916, Page 2 (Supplement)

WITH "KITCHENER'S MOB."

Firat impressions of the war that is now drawing toward S r!he^ot l kbe^th'nterestin S and vn uable The seasoned campaigner, ile 1 'dm masoned war v,o- lost hi* perspective. tie i> «<o fcnV % ingenuous as the Tommy his first night in the. front trenches, who cait. tip cigarette in mouthy to, far it was to the German trenchi/' He l ,i pulW down just in time we are told, to hear if not to feel to sniper's bullet that came z.ng-g-g-----iS£ straight fof the spot that his preys' head had occupied, an mstant before. "Look 'ere, son'remarked the experienced •'Gloucester" who hadl rescued him. •'never you get up tor a scumtwithafngon Weain'tarskin vou fer anv burial-party: hut if anj o vou blokes wants to he the stiff stand up w'ere this guy lit the gas just now. This incident and the little speech that accompanied it made an unforgettable impression on those who were fortunate enough to see and hoar it, remarks James Norman Hall, m The Atlantic Monthly. Himself a member of -Kitchener's Mob," sent to the front with the "new army'; in 1915, he chronicles this as his and his comrades' first realisation that they were engaged in the "real thing," and that the palmv days of ceaseless drill and make-believe warfare, in which- they had been for the last nine months engaged, were over for' good. Like all those who have enlisted to-help England hold her hundred miles on the French front, he was not long in conceiving a decided liking for "Tommy in the rough:" He took pains to chronicle verbatim many characteristic bits of conversation, such as this which follows. He tells -as that— During the' cross-channel trip the men stretched out on the decks or gathered in the great bare cabins, putting the finishing touches to their French accent. "Alf, 'ow's this: 'Madamaselly, ayay vus any -bread?"" \ "Wot" do ydu say for 'aimmo a tuppenny packet o' Nosegay'?" .. "Bonjoor, Monseer. That am tso dusty, Freddie, wot?" . „ ,- ''Let's'try that Marselase again. "Sou start it, 'Arry. You know the sounds better'n wot I do." ': "Wite till I find it in me book. All right now—". t ' Allans infants dee la Pat-ree Lajoor do glory is arriyay." He sneaks of the quite unecessary risks-that tfaeso men seemed possessed to run, "ju4 for the fun of it." In one I saw 4 pijfqt, conje m just before daw p. one> Jnan. brought with hifflP* a piece of barbed *&% front faf Gorman tjwo hundred «d^ffe|Wls^^ . ■ .. • ' -,' t ;;';

One of their earliest lessons learned, ftnys the writer, was respect for the men across the way. As ho rcinavks. We came from Ehßla_ndfullofabcurd newspaper-stales of the German soldier's inferiority as a fighting man. We had read' that he was wretched marksman; that he fired his rifle blindlv • that he would not stand up to tho baypnet; and that when opportunity offered, he creeped over and gave himself up. Wc thought him almost beneath contempt. We were convinced n a night thai we had greatly undei\stimated his abilities as a marksman. And as for his all-round inferiority as a fiphiing man, one of tho Gloucester* t>Ul - 'Ere! It the Germans is so bloomin' rotten, 'ow is it we ain't a-fightin >jm sommers along the llhi»e oi in Aestrv-Hungry ? No, they ain t a-fiun wild, I give you my word. Not around this part o' Franco, tliev am t. Wot do vou sv, Jerry." Jerry made a most illuminating contribution to the discussion 01 1-ntz as a fighting man. • I'll toll you wot. If .over I a\o the luck to get 'oine again —it 1 get* through this 'ere war with mv eyesight, I'll never fed site w en I seea"Fritzie unless I'm a lookin at im throngli me periscope irom he mt a tut One of the many fatal games that Tommy and Fritzie love to play is trench-mortaring. There was great excitement in the British trout trenc 1 when from the roar the dull boom ot the mortar was heard, -Lives were risked merely for the purpose o{ seeing whether the shot went true. When Fritzie retaliated, it was a quic.%. scamper for shelter, lie adds. Fritzie kept, up his end of the gamer* alwavs. He gave us just as good as Ave sent, and often he added something for good measure. His surprise-pack-ages were sausage-shaped missiles which came wobbling toward lis. slowly, j almost awkwardly: but they dropped with lightning-speed. The was terrible, and alas tor any poor Tommv who misjudged the place ot us fall! However, every one had a chance. Trench-mortar projectiles are so laige, and thev describe so leisurely an ai< before they fall, that men have time to run. I've always admired Tommy .»tkins lor his sense ol fair play. He loved giving Fritz "a Utile hit of alright, but he never resented it when fritz had his own fun at our expense. 1 used to believe, in tiie tar-oil' day* oi peace, that men had losi their old primal love ior dangerous sport, then naive ignorance ol tear. l>ur on t :o-e trench-mortaring days, when I watched boys playing with death with right good zest, heard them shouting and laughing as they tumbled over one another in their eagerness to escape being killed, 1 was convinced that 1 was wrong. Daily I saw men going through the t °st of lire triumphantly, and at the last what a learful test it was. and how splendidly they met it ! During six months, continuously in the tiring-line, 1 met less than a dozen iuuural-born cowards, and my experience was largely among clerk's, barbers, plumbers, shopkeepers, men who had no iinhtingtraditions to back them up, to make I them heroic in spite ol themselves. "Kitchener's .Mob'' are no; incite at giving expression to their emotions, hut we have -Mr Hall's word tor it ihat the heart beneath the khaki beats a-- iriie as any other, as. for example: One of our boys was killed, and there was a letter to be written to his parents. Three Tommies who knew him best were to attempt this. They made innumerable beginnings. Kach of them was afraid of blundering, of causing unnecessary pain by an indelicate revelation of the facts. There was a feminine fineness about their concern which was beautiful to see. The final draft of the letter was a little masterpiece, nor of English, but of insight: .such a letter as any one of us would have liked his own parents 10 receive under similar circumstances. . Nothing was forgotten which could make the news, in the slightest degree. . more endurable. Every trifling personal belonging was carefully saved and packed in a little Ikjx to follow the letter. . All of this was done amid much bois- , terous jesting; and there was hilarious singing to the wheezing accompaniment of an old mouth-organ. Hut of reference to home, or mothers, or comradeship, not a word. • Then this by way of grim contrast, "Digging in the garden," as Tommy calls the meagre nightly burial services, | is not an occasion for exposing one's inmost feelings. Tommy was rather pleased than otherwise that the chnp- , lain's prudence forbade his coining often to the foremost entrenchments. As we read: i He. liked to "got the planting done" . with the least possible delay or fuss. His whispered conversations, while the graves were being scooped, were, to say the least: quite out of the spirit of the occasion. Once we were burying two boys with whom we had been having supper a few hours before. There was an artillery-duel in progress, the shells -whistling high over our heads and bursting in great splotches of white fire, far in rear of the opposing lines oi trenches. The grave-making went speedily on while the diggers argued in whispers as to the calibre of the guns. Some .said tliev were G-inch, while others thought 9-inch. Discussion was momentarily suspended when trenchrockets went, soaring up from the, enemy's line. Vi e crouched motionless until the welcome darkness spread again. And then, in Joud whispers— Ere! li they was ft-ineh tliev would l 'ave more screetch." And'one from the other school of opinion would reply—"Don't talk so bloomin' silly! Ain't I a-tellin' you you can't always size 'em by the screeth?" Not a prayer. Not a word of either / censure or praise for the boys who had gone. Not. an expression of opinion as to the meaning cl the great change which had come to them and which might come as suddenly to any or all ot us.. And vet 1 knew that even- man was thinking of these tilings. The Briish soldier does not forget his manners, and when occasion offers is glad to "do the 'andsoinc" in the way of friendliness with the enemy—but alway within well-defined limitations, as we read T—--111 the early mornings, when the heavy night-mists concealed the lines, the boys would stand, head and shoulders above the parapet, and shout: "Hi, Fritzie!" And the greeting would be returned: "Hi, Tommy!" Then we would converse. Very few of us knew German, but it was surprising how many Germans could speak English. Frequently they tvoitld shout, "Got any Woodbines, Tommv?" Woodbines are the British soldier's favorite cigarette*. And Tommy would reply: "Sure! Shall I bring 'em over, or will you come and fetch 'em ?" This, was often the ice-breaker, the beginning of a conversation which varied considerably iji other details. "What are you?" Fritzie would shout. Ajid Tommy: "We're the King's Own 'ymn of 'aters," some-sitch subtle repartee. 'Wot's your mob?" "We're a battalion of Irish rifles." The Germans liked to provoke Tommy by protending that the Irish were disloyal to England. Sometimes they shouted: "Any of you from London?" "Not arf! Wot you a-doin' of in London? W'itin' tables at Sam Isaac's, fish-shoo ? fv ~ . The rising of the mists put an end to these conversations. Sometimes they were concluded earlier VITTi hursts of rifle and machine-enn fire. "All right to be., friendly." Tommy would say, "but we got to let 'em know this a»'£ no lore-feast."