March 21st, 1918.
The small box respirator, like the thirty-nine articles of the Faith, should be taken on trust; one is quite prepared to believe in its efficiency. Countless1 Base instructors2 have extolled3 it, countless memos4 from Division have confirmed their panegyrics5; and with these credentials6 one carries it on one’s chest in a perfect faith; but one has no wish to put its merits to the test. No one if he can help it wishes to have his face surrounded by elastic7 and india-rubber, and his nose clamped viciously by bent8 iron; and for that reason my chief memory of March 21st was the prolonged discomfort9 of a gas-mask.{2}
For from the moment that the barrage10 opened at 5 a.m. the air was full of the insidious11 smell of gas. Masks were clapped on, and thus hooded12 the machine-gunners fumbled13 desperately14 in search of stoppages; it was an uncomfortable morning.
Being stationed about two miles north of the left flank of the German attack, it was for us a much more comfortable morning than that spent by most of those south of Arras. For when the mist began to rise, it revealed no phantom15 figures; we did not find ourselves encircled, and outflanked, with the cheerful alternatives of a perpetual rest where we stood or of an indefinite sojourn16 on the wrong side of the line. Everything presented a very orderly appearance. Far away on the right was the dull noise of guns, but over the whole of the immediate17 front spread out the peaceful prospect18 of a programme of trench19 routine.
“Seems as if Jerry weren’t coming over after all,” said the section corporal.
“Looks like it,” I said.{3}
“Then I suppose as we’d better clean things up a bit, Sir.”
“It would be as well.”
And the half-section settled down to the usual work of cleaning themselves, their guns, and their position. The infantry21 on the right were even more resigned to the uneventful.
“This ’ere offensive was all wind up, Sir,” said the man at the strombos form, “they thought we was gettin’ a bit slack, I suppose, so they thought this scare ’ud smarten us up a bit; but I knew it all along, Sir; I’m too old a soldier to be taken in by that.”
The runner from Battalion22, however, brought quite a different story.
“Been an attack all along the line, Arras to St. Quentin, but it’s been broken up absolutely; never even got the front line.”
The man at the strombos form shifted suspiciously.
“They not bin23 trying to come over ’ere. I never seen no Germans,” which was not{4} surprising considering that from where he stood he could not see the front line at all.
“No,” he went on, “there’s bin no offensive, and there won’t be one neither. It’s all a wind up.”
At any rate, whether there had been an attempted attack or not, it seemed quite clear that it had not got very far. With that comforting certainty, I returned to the position, and having seen that the guns were clean, descended24 into the dugout and went to sleep.
About two hours later a perspiring25 runner arrived. He was quite out of breath from dodging26 whizzbangs, and was in consequence incapable27 of logical statement. He said something about “Bullecourt.” The chit he brought explained.
“Bullecourt, Ecoust, Noreil are in the
Hands of the Enemy”
It took at least five minutes to realise what this meant. To think that they had got as far as that. It had seemed so delight{5}fully safe. One had walked along the Ecoust road in daylight, and there was a canteen at Noreil. And then that glorious dugout in Railway Reserve that we had covered with green canvas and festooned with semi-nudities from the Tatler, to think of some lordly Prussian straddling across the table, swigging champagne28. It was an unspeakable liberty....
And then a little tardily29 followed the thought that Ecoust was not so many miles from Monchy, and that if the Germans had got as far as that on the right, there was very little reason why they should not do the same to us—an unpleasant consideration. But still everything seemed so delightfully31 quiet. Only an occasional whizzbang, or four—five—no one would have thought there was a war on. Still Ecoust was not so very far off; our parish had provided funds for a church army hut at St. Leger. They had been collecting for it hard when I had been on leave. Well, that must have gone west by now....{6}
And at the top of the dugout I could hear the runner gradually recovering his breath and explaining the strategic situation in spasms32.
“You see, I heard the captin say to the adjutant, ‘Jones,’ he says, ‘the Jerrys’ got as far as Bullecourt,’ and when I heard that ... well ... I said to myself ... thank ’eavens I wasn’t there.”
“And you was there two months ago, Kid.”
“Where I was two months ago, as you say, and then I heard the captin say....”
The remaining reflection was inaudible.
The next morning passed very quietly, so quietly that we had almost forgotten the rumours33 of the preceding day. The limber corporal had assured the ration30 party that there had been a counter-attack with tanks, and that not only had Bullecourt been retaken, but Hendecourt and Riencourt as well. There seemed no cause for panic. The rum had come up as usual, and that was the main thing. After an afternoon of belt-cleaning{7} the subsection arranged itself as usual into night reliefs, and then just before midnight came the news that the Division was evacuating34 to the “third” line.
Whenever the military decide on a sudden action, they impart the information in a delightfully inconsequent way. For instance, on the eve of the Cambrai show, orders were sent round that in the case of an enemy withdrawal35 limbers would proceed to Hendecourt along the road in the map square U 29 B, and this request was then qualified36 by the statement, “It is no good looking for roads; there are none.”
On this occasion the message was equally vague. It stated that the front system would be evacuated37 at 3 a.m., and ordered that all guns, tripods, belt-boxes, and ammunition38 would be immediately moved and stacked at the ration dump pending39 the arrival of limbers. The chit then added, “Secrecy is absolutely essential. On no account must the men know anything of this.” The reasons on which the authorities{8} based their expectations that the men would move all their impedimenta to a ration dump, and yet remain in complete ignorance of the operation, are unfathomable. At any rate their hopes were unrealised. At the first mention of dismounted guns, Private Hawkins had sniffed40 the secret.
“Got to shift, ’ave we, Sir? Then I suppose we’re going to have a war too, aren’t we, Sir?”
“I should not be surprised,” I told him, and went below to superintend the packing of my kit41. It was no easy matter. Things accumulate in the line; I always went up the line with a modestly filled pack, but by the time I came down, it needed a mailbag to hold the books and magazines that had gradually gathered round me, and after a fortnight in the same dugout my kit was in no condition for emergency transportation.
My batman was examining it with a sorrowful face.
“You’ll ’ave to dump most of these books, Sir.”{9}
“Oh, but surely we can get some of them down?”
“Then you’ll have to dump those boots, Sir, and that blanket. Can’t take the lot, Sir.”
It was no use to argue with him. The batman’s orders are far more law than a mandate42 from Brigade. The Brigadier is merely content to issue orders; batmen see that theirs are carried out. There was nothing for it but to dump the books, and I looked sadly at the considerable collection that the mails of the last fourteen days had brought.
“Have they all got to go?”
“’Fraid so, Sir.”
“What, all my pretty chickens, at one fell swoop43?”
Private Warren eyed me stolidly44.
“Well, Sir, I might manage two, Sir, but no more.”
I ran a pathetic eye over them. There were several I particularly wanted to save; there were two novels by Hardy45, Robert Graves’s new book of Poems, Regiment46 of{10} Women, a battered47 copy of La Terre, The Oxford48 Book of Verse, The Stucco House. After a moment’s hesitation49, the last two were saved for further odysseys51; there was just room in a spare pocket for Fairies and Fusiliers; the rest would have to stay to welcome the Teuton.
At last all the equipment of a machine-gun section had been carted away. I took one turn round the dugouts to see that no incriminating document remained. The dugout looked hospitably52 clean; all the delicacies53 of handing over had been observed, but as there would be up one to receive the relieving party, manners demanded some sort of “Salve”; and so, tearing from a notebook a sheet of paper, I scrawled54 across it in large letters, CHEERIOH, and pinned it over the entrance of my deserted55 home.
§ 2
March 28th, 1918.
Of course the limbers never turned up. For two months without the least incon{11}venience from German artillery56 they had come up to the ration dump every night, but on this particular night they felt sure it would arouse suspicions, and so a guide was sent instead. And in France there are only two sorts of guides. There is the guide who does not know the way and owns up to it, and there is the guide who does not know the way and pretends he does. There are no others. Luckily ours came under the former category.
“You see, Sir, I’ve only bin from Headquarters once and that was by day, and I’m not too sure of the way.... I’ve only been ’ere once and that....”
Which was a pretty clear sign that a compass bearing would be hardly less reliable. We dumped most of our spare kit in the river, and set off. It is wonderful how disorderly any movement of troops appears by night. Actually it was a most methodical withdrawal, but in its progress it looked pitifully like a rout20. The road seemed littered with cast-off equipment,{12} ammunition, packs and bombs; dumps were going up all round. Innumerable Highlanders had lost their companies; nobody seemed to know where he was going or to care particularly whether he ever arrived. A subsection of fifteen men straggled into an echelon57 formation covering as many yards. It appeared an absolute certainty that dawn and the Germans would find us still trailing helplessly along the road.
At last, however, came the loved jingle58 of harness, and the sound of restive59 mules60. We heaved packs and baggages on a limber, and more cheerfully resumed our odyssey50.
This cheerfulness considerably61 diminished when the section found that our new positions were two hundred yards from the road, and that a hundred boxes of S.A.A. had to be stacked in half an hour. But eventually peace was restored to Israel, and by the time that the morning broke, the section was fairly comfortably lodged62 in some disused German dugouts.{13}
There followed four very lazy days. The two subsections had been amalgamated63, and with my section officer Evans, I spent most of the day working out elaborate barrage charts in case of a break through. Evans had recently been on a course at Camières where they had given him an enormous blue sheet which was warranted proof against geography. Evans regarded it as a sort of charm.
“You see, with this,” he said, “you can get on to any target you like within thirty seconds.”
And it was certainly an ingenious toy, but as far as we were concerned, it did not accelerate the conclusion of the war. It required a level table, numerous drawing-pins, carbon papers, faultless draughtsmanship and much else with which we were unequipped: finally, when occasion demanded we resorted to the obsolete64 method of aiming at the required target.
Of the actual war little information was gleaned65. The limber corporal brought each{14} evening the account of wondrous66 sallies and excursions. Lens was purported67 to have fallen, and an enveloping68 attack was in progress further North. Lille was only a matter of days. And then on the night of the 27th there arrived the mail and papers of the preceding seven days. It came in an enormous burst of epistolary shrapnel. Personally I received thirty letters and five parcels. We sat up reading them till midnight, and then in a contented69 frame of mind we turned to the papers. It was a bit of a shock. We had hardly imagined that there was a war on any front except our own. We had expected to see headlines talking of nothing but the Fall of Bullecourt and our masterly evacuation of Monchy. We had expected to see our exploits extolled by Philip Gibbs; instead of that they filled a very insignificant70 corner. It was all Bapaume, Ham, Peronne. We were merely a false splash of a wave that already had gone home. It was a blow to our self-respect. There was also no news of any enveloping{15} man?uvres round Lille. The Germans appeared to be doing all that.
Evans looked across at me dolefully.
“Do you think the men had better know anything about that?” he said.
“Shouldn’t think so. By the way, when are we being relieved?”
“The sooner the better. There is going to be a war on soon.”
And the memory of the thirty letters and five parcels thinned.
“Oh, well,” I said, “I’m going to bed.”
My sleep did not last long. Within an hour Evans was shouting in my ear.
“Hell of a strafe upstairs. I think they’re coming over.”
And indeed there was a strafe. Verey lights were going up all along the front. Three dumps were hit in as many minutes, from the right came the continual crump of “minnies.” Luckily we were in the shelter between the barrage on the eighteen-pounders and the barrage on the front lines. The{16} only shells that came disconcertingly close were those from one of our own heavies that was dropping short, like a man out of breath.
At seven o’clock the Germans came over, and by twelve we were being escorted to Berlin.
Our actual engagement resembles so closely that of every other unfortunate during those sorry days that it deserves no detailed71 description. The only original incident came at about nine o’clock when I discovered the perfidy72 of the section cook. I had sent him down to fetch some breakfast, and he returned smoking triumphantly73 a gold-tipped cigarette that he could have obtained from only one source. Perhaps this is what those mean who maintain that in the moment of action one sees the naked truth of the human soul. At any rate it stripped Private Hawkins pretty effectively. No doubt this kleptomania74 had been a practice with him for a long time, and at this critical moment I suppose he saw no reason why he should conceal75 it: “much is forgiven to a man condemned76.” He literally77 flaunted78 theft.
Image unavailable: “AT SEVEN O’CLOCK THE GERMANS CAME OVER.” [To face page 16.
“AT SEVEN O’CLOCK THE GERMANS CAME OVER.”
[To face page 16.
{17}
“Hawkins,” I said quietly, “you’ll go back to the gun-team to-morrow. We’ll find another cook.”
“Very good, Sir.”
And almost instantly the order was given a divine confirmation79 in the form of the cushiest of flesh wounds in Private Hawkins’s right arm.
After a second’s gasp80 he bounded down the trench.
“A blighty, Sir,” he cried, “a blighty. No, Sir, don’t want to be bound up or anything. They’ll do that at the dressing81 station. I’m orf.”
Visions had risen before him of white sheets and whiter nurses. He saw himself being petted and made much of, the hero of the village; and as the Germans slowly filtered round the flank, Private Hawkins rushed down the communication trench, resolved to put at all cost the dressing station between them and him. He succeeded. Probably it was the one time he had ever tried to do anything in his life.
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1
countless
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| adj.无数的，多得不计其数的 | |
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2
instructors
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| 指导者，教师( instructor的名词复数 ) | |
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3
extolled
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| v.赞颂，赞扬，赞美( extol的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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memos
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| n.备忘录( memo的名词复数 )；（美）内部通知 | |
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panegyrics
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| n.赞美( panegyric的名词复数 )；称颂；颂词；颂扬的演讲或文章 | |
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credentials
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| n.证明，资格，证明书，证件 | |
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elastic
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| n.橡皮圈，松紧带；adj.有弹性的；灵活的 | |
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bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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9
discomfort
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| n.不舒服，不安，难过，困难，不方便 | |
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10
barrage
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| n.火力网，弹幕 | |
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insidious
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| adj.阴险的，隐匿的，暗中为害的，（疾病）不知不觉之间加剧 | |
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hooded
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| adj.戴头巾的；有罩盖的；颈部因肋骨运动而膨胀的 | |
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13
fumbled
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| （笨拙地）摸索或处理（某事物）( fumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 乱摸，笨拙地弄； 使落下 | |
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desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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phantom
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| n.幻影，虚位，幽灵；adj.错觉的，幻影的，幽灵的 | |
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16
sojourn
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| v./n.旅居，寄居；逗留 | |
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17
immediate
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| adj.立即的；直接的，最接近的；紧靠的 | |
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18
prospect
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| n.前景，前途；景色，视野 | |
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19
trench
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| n./v.(挖)沟，(挖)战壕 | |
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rout
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| n.溃退，溃败；v.击溃，打垮 | |
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21
infantry
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| n.[总称]步兵(部队) | |
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battalion
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| n.营；部队；大队(的人) | |
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bin
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| n.箱柜；vt.放入箱内；[计算机] DOS文件名:二进制目标文件 | |
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24
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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25
perspiring
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| v.出汗，流汗( perspire的现在分词 ) | |
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26
dodging
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| n.避开，闪过，音调改变v.闪躲( dodge的现在分词 )；回避 | |
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27
incapable
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| adj.无能力的，不能做某事的 | |
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28
champagne
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| n.香槟酒；微黄色 | |
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tardily
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| adv.缓慢 | |
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ration
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| n.定量(pl.)给养，口粮；vt.定量供应 | |
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delightfully
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| 大喜，欣然 | |
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spasms
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| n.痉挛( spasm的名词复数 )；抽搐；（能量、行为等的）突发；发作 | |
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rumours
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| n.传闻( rumour的名词复数 )；风闻；谣言；谣传 | |
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evacuating
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| 撤离，疏散( evacuate的现在分词 )； 排空（胃肠），排泄（粪便）； （从危险的地方）撤出，搬出，撤空 | |
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withdrawal
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| n.取回，提款；撤退，撤军；收回，撤销 | |
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qualified
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| adj.合格的，有资格的，胜任的，有限制的 | |
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evacuated
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| 撤退者的 | |
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ammunition
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| n.军火，弹药 | |
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39
pending
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| prep.直到，等待…期间；adj.待定的；迫近的 | |
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sniffed
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| v.以鼻吸气，嗅，闻( sniff的过去式和过去分词 )；抽鼻子（尤指哭泣、患感冒等时出声地用鼻子吸气）；抱怨，不以为然地说 | |
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kit
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| n.用具包，成套工具；随身携带物 | |
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mandate
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| n.托管地；命令，指示 | |
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43
swoop
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| n.俯冲，攫取；v.抓取，突然袭击 | |
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44
stolidly
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| adv.迟钝地，神经麻木地 | |
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hardy
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| adj.勇敢的，果断的，吃苦的；耐寒的 | |
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46
regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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battered
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| adj.磨损的；v.连续猛击；磨损 | |
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48
Oxford
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| n.牛津（英国城市） | |
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49
hesitation
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| n.犹豫，踌躇 | |
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50
odyssey
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| n.长途冒险旅行；一连串的冒险 | |
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odysseys
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| n.长途的冒险行程( odyssey的名词复数 ) | |
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52
hospitably
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| 亲切地，招待周到地，善于款待地 | |
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delicacies
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| n.棘手( delicacy的名词复数 )；精致；精美的食物；周到 | |
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54
scrawled
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| 乱涂，潦草地写( scrawl的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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56
artillery
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| n.(军)火炮，大炮；炮兵(部队) | |
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57
echelon
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| n.梯队；组织系统中的等级；v.排成梯队 | |
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58
jingle
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| n.叮当声，韵律简单的诗句；v.使叮当作响，叮当响，押韵 | |
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59
restive
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| adj.不安宁的，不安静的 | |
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60
mules
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| 骡( mule的名词复数 )； 拖鞋； 顽固的人； 越境运毒者 | |
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61
considerably
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| adv.极大地；相当大地；在很大程度上 | |
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62
lodged
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| v.存放( lodge的过去式和过去分词 )；暂住；埋入；（权利、权威等）归属 | |
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63
amalgamated
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| v.（使）（金属）汞齐化( amalgamate的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）合并；联合；结合 | |
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64
obsolete
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| adj.已废弃的，过时的 | |
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gleaned
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| v.一点点地收集（资料、事实）( glean的过去式和过去分词 )；（收割后）拾穗 | |
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66
wondrous
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| adj.令人惊奇的，奇妙的；adv.惊人地；异乎寻常地；令人惊叹地 | |
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67
purported
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| adj.传说的，谣传的v.声称是…，（装得）像是…的样子( purport的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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68
enveloping
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| v.包围，笼罩，包住( envelop的现在分词 ) | |
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69
contented
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| adj.满意的，安心的，知足的 | |
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70
insignificant
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| adj.无关紧要的，可忽略的，无意义的 | |
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71
detailed
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| adj.详细的，详尽的，极注意细节的，完全的 | |
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72
perfidy
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| n.背信弃义，不忠贞 | |
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73
triumphantly
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| ad.得意洋洋地；得胜地；成功地 | |
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74
kleptomania
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| n.盗窃癖 | |
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75
conceal
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| v.隐藏，隐瞒，隐蔽 | |
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76
condemned
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| adj. 被责难的, 被宣告有罪的 动词condemn的过去式和过去分词 | |
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77
literally
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| adv.照字面意义，逐字地；确实 | |
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78
flaunted
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| v.炫耀，夸耀( flaunt的过去式和过去分词 )；有什么能耐就施展出来 | |
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79
confirmation
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| n.证实，确认，批准 | |
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80
gasp
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| n.喘息，气喘；v.喘息；气吁吁他说 | |
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81
dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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