Now when we take the cobbled road
We often took before,
Our thoughts are with the hearty3 lads
Who tread that way no more.
Oh! boys upon the level fields,
If you could call to mind
The wine of Café Pierre le Blanc
You wouldn't stay behind.
But when we leave the trench1 at night,
And stagger neath our load,
Grey, silent ghosts as light as air
Come with us down the road.
And when we sit us down to drink
You sit beside us too,
And drink at Café Pierre le Blanc
As once you used to do.
The Company marched from the village of Les Brebis at nightfall; the moon, waning4 a little at one of its corners, shone brightly amidst the stars in the east, and under it, behind the German lines, a burning mine threw a flame, salmon5 pink[12] and wreathed in smoke, into the air. Our Company was sadly thinned now, it had cast off many—so many of its men at Cuinchy, Givenchy, and Vermelles. At each of these places there are graves of the London Irish boys who have been killed in action.
We marched through a world of slag6 heaps and chimney stacks, the moonlight flowing down the sides of the former like mist, the smoke stood up from the latter straight as the chimneys themselves. The whirr of machinery7 in the mine could be heard, and the creaking wagon8 wheels on an adjoining railway spoke9 out in a low, monotonous10 clank the half strangled message of labour.
Our way lay up a hill, at the top we came into full view of the night of battle, the bursting shells up by Souchez, the flash of rifles by the village of Vermelles, the long white searchlights near Lens, and the star-shells, red, green and electric-white, rioting in a splendid blaze of colour over the decay, death and pity of the firing line. We could hear the dull thud of shells bursting in the fields and the sharp explosion they made amidst the masonry11 of deserted12 homes; you feel glad that the homes are deserted, and you hope that if any soldiers are billeted there they are in the safe protection of the cellars.
The road by which we marched was lined with houses all in various stages of collapse,[13] some with merely a few tiles shot out of the roofs, others levelled to the ground. Some of the buildings were still peopled; at one home a woman was putting up the shutters13 and we could see some children drinking coffee from little tin mugs inside near the door; the garret of the house was blown in, the rafters stuck up over the tiles like long, accusing fingers, charging all who passed by with the mischief14 which had happened. The cats were crooning love songs on the roofs, and stray dogs slunk from the roadway as we approached. In the villages, with the natives gone and the laughter dead, there are always to be found stray dogs and love-making cats. The cats raise their primordial15, instinctive16 yowl in villages raked with artillery17 fire, and poor lone18 dogs often cry at night to the moon, and their plaint is full of longing19.
We marched down the reverse slope of the hill in silence. At the end of the road was the village; our firing trench fringed the outer row of houses. Two months before an impudent20 red chimney stack stood high in air here; but humbled21 now, it had fallen upon itself, and its own bricks lay still as sandbags at its base, a forgotten ghost with blurred22 outlines, it brooded, a stricken giant.
The long road down the hill was a tedious, deceptive23 way; it took a deal of marching to[14] make the village. Bill Teake growled24. "One would think the place was tied to a string," he grumbled25, "and some one pullin' it away!"
We were going to dig a sap out from the front trench towards the German lines; we drew our spades and shovels27 for the work from the Engineers' store at the rear and made our way into the labyrinth28 of trenches. Men were at their posts on the fire positions, their Balaclava helmets resting on their ears, their bayonets gleaming bright in the moonshine, their hands close to their rifle barrels. Sleepers29 lay stretched out on the banquette with their overcoats over their heads and bodies. Out on the front the Engineers had already taped out the night's work; our battalion30 had to dig some two hundred and fifty yards of trench 3 ft. wide and 6 ft. deep before dawn, and the work had to be performed with all possible dispatch. Rumour31 spoke of thrilling days ahead; and men spoke of a big push which was shortly to take place. Between the lines there are no slackers; the safety of a man so often depends upon the dexterous32 handling of his spade; the deeper a man digs, the better is his shelter from bullet and bomb; the spade is the key to safety.
The men set to work eagerly, one picked up the earth with a spade and a mate shovelled33 the loose stuff out over the meadow. The grass, very long now and tapering34 tall as the[15] props35 that held the web of wire entanglements36 in air, shook gently backwards38 and forwards as the slight breezes caught it. The night was wonderfully calm and peaceful; it seemed as if heaven and earth held no threat for the men who delved39 in the alleys40 of war.
Out ahead lay the German trenches. I could discern their line of sandbags winding41 over the meadows and losing itself for a moment when it disappeared behind the ruins of a farm-house—a favourite resort of the enemy snipers, until our artillery blew the place to atoms. Silent and full of mystery as it lay there in the moonlight, the place had a strange fascination42 for me. How interesting it would be to go out there beyond our most advanced outpost and have a peep at the place all by myself. Being a stretcher-bearer there was no necessity for me to dig; my work began when my mates ceased their labours and fell wounded.
Out in front of me lay a line of barbed wire entanglements.
"Our wire?" I asked the Engineer.
"No—the Germans'," he answered.
I noticed a path through it, and I took my way to the other side. Behind me I could heard the thud of picks and the sharp, rasping sound of shovels digging into the earth, and now and again the whispered words of command passing from lip to lip. The long[16] grass impeded43 my movements, tripping me as I walked, and lurking44 shell-holes caught me twice by the foot and flung me to the ground. Twenty yards out from the wire I noticed in front of me something moving on the ground, wriggling45, as I thought, towards the enemy's line. I threw myself flat and watched. There was no mistaking it now; it was a man, belly46 flat on the ground, moving off from our lines. Being a non-combatant I had no rifle, no weapon to defend myself with if attacked. I wriggled47 back a few yards, then got to my feet, recrossed the line of wires and found a company-sergeant48-major speaking to an officer.
"There's somebody out there lying on the ground," I said. "A man moving off towards the German trenches."
The three of us went off together and approached the figure on the ground, which had hardly changed its position since I last saw it. It was dressed in khaki, the dark barrel of a rifle stretched out in front. I saw stripes on a khaki sleeve....
"One of a covering-party?" asked the sergeant-major.
"That's right," came the answer from the grass, and a white face looked up at us.
"Quiet?" asked the S.-M.
"Nothing doing," said the voice from the[17] ground. "It's cold lying here, though. We've been out for four hours."
"I did not think that the covering-party was so far out," said the officer, and the two men returned to their company.
I sat in the long grass with the watcher; he was the sergeant in command of the covering party.
"Are your party out digging?" he asked.
"Yes, out behind us," I answered. "Is the covering-party a large one?"
"About fifty of us," said the sergeant. "They've all got orders to shoot on sight when they see anything suspicious. Do you hear the Germans at work out there?"
I listened; from the right front came the sound of hammering.
"They're putting up barbed wire entanglements and digging a sap," said the sergeant. "Both sides are working and none are fighting. I must have another smoke," said the sergeant.
"But it's dangerous to strike a light here," I said.
"Not in this way," said the sergeant, drawing a cigarette and a patent flint tinder-lighter from his pocket. Over a hole newly dug in the earth, as if with a bayonet, the sergeant leant, lit the cigarette in its little dug-out, hiding the glow with his hand.
"Do you smoke?" he asked.
[18]
"Yes, I smoke," and the man gave me a cigarette.
It was so very quiet lying there. The grasses nodded together, whispering to one another. To speak of the grasses whispering during the day is merely a sweet idea; but God! they do whisper at night. The ancients called the winds the Unseen Multitude; the grasses are long, tapering fingers laid on the lips of the winds. "Hush49!" the night whispers. "Hush!" breathes the world. The grasses touch your ears, saying sleepily, "Hush! be quiet!"
At the end of half an hour I ventured to go nearer the German lines. The sergeant told me to be careful and not to go too close to the enemy's trenches or working parties. "And mind your own covering-party when you're coming in," said the sergeant. "They may slip you a bullet or two if you're unlucky."
Absurd silvery shadows chased one another up and down the entanglement37 props. In front, behind the German lines, I could hear sounds of railway wagons50 being shunted, and the clank of rails being unloaded. The enemy's transports were busy; they clattered51 along the roads, and now and again the neighing of horses came to my ears. On my right a working party was out; the clank of hammers filled the air. The Germans were strengthening their wire entanglements;[19] the barbs52 stuck out, I could see them in front of me, waiting to rip our men if ever we dared to charge. I had a feeling of horror for a moment. Then, having one more look round, I went back, got through the line of outposts, and came up to our working party, which was deep in the earth already. Shovels and picks were rising and falling, and long lines of black clay bulked up on either side of the trench.
I took off my coat, got hold of a mate's idle shovel26, and began to work.
"That my shovel?" said Bill Teake.
"Yes, I'm going to do a little," I answered. "It would never do much lying on the slope."
"I suppose it wouldn't," he answered. "Will you keep it goin' for a spell?"
"I'll do a little bit with it," I answered. "You've got to go to the back of the trenches if you're wanting to smoke."
"That's where I'm goin'," Bill replied. "'Ave yer got any matches?"
I handed him a box and bent53 to my work. It was quite easy to make headway; the clay was crisp and brittle54, and the pick went in easily, making very little sound. M'Crone, one of our section, was working three paces ahead, shattering a square foot of earth at every blow of his instrument.
"It's very quiet here," he said. "I suppose[20] they won't fire on us, having their own party out. By Jove, I'm sweating at this."
"When does the shift come to an end?" I asked.
"At dawn," came the reply. He rubbed the perspiration55 from his brow as he spoke. "The nights are growing longer," he said, "and it will soon be winter again. It will be cold then."
As he spoke we heard the sound of rifle firing out by the German wires. Half a dozen shots were fired, then followed a long moment of silent suspense56.
"There's something doing," said Pryor, leaning on his pick. "I wonder what it is."
Five minutes afterwards a sergeant and two men came in from listening patrol and reported to our officer.
"We've just encountered a strong German patrol between the lines," said the sergeant. "We exchanged shots with them and then withdrew. We have no casualties, but the Germans have one man out of action, shot through the stomach."
"How do you know it went through his stomach?" asked the officer.
"In this way," said the sergeant. "When we fired one of the Germans (we were quite close to them) put his hands across his stomach and fell to the ground yellin' 'Mein Gutt! Mein Gutt!'"
[21]
"So it did get 'im in the guts57 then," said Bill Teake, when he heard of the incident.
"You fool!" exclaimed Pryor. "It was 'My God' that the German said."
"But Pat 'as just told me that the German said 'Mine Gut,'" Bill protested.
"Well, 'Mein Gott' (the Germans pronounce 'Gott' like 'Gutt' on a dark night) is the same as 'My God,'" said Pryor.
"Well, any'ow, that's just wot the Allymongs would say," Bill muttered. "It's just like them to call God Almighty58 nick names."
When dawn showed pale yellow in a cold sky, and stars were fading in the west, we packed up and took our way out and marched back to Nouex-les-Mines, there to rest for a day or two.
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1
trench
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| n./v.(挖)沟，(挖)战壕 | |
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2
trenches
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| 深沟，地沟( trench的名词复数 )； 战壕 | |
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3
hearty
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| adj.热情友好的；衷心的；尽情的，纵情的 | |
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4
waning
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| adj.（月亮）渐亏的，逐渐减弱或变小的n.月亏v.衰落( wane的现在分词 )；（月）亏；变小；变暗淡 | |
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5
salmon
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| n.鲑，大马哈鱼，橙红色的 | |
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6
slag
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| n.熔渣，铁屑，矿渣；v.使变成熔渣，变熔渣 | |
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7
machinery
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| n.(总称)机械，机器；机构 | |
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8
wagon
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| n.四轮马车，手推车，面包车；无盖运货列车 | |
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9
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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10
monotonous
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| adj.单调的，一成不变的，使人厌倦的 | |
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11
masonry
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| n.砖土建筑；砖石 | |
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12
deserted
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| adj.荒芜的，荒废的，无人的，被遗弃的 | |
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13
shutters
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| 百叶窗( shutter的名词复数 )； （照相机的）快门 | |
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14
mischief
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| n.损害，伤害，危害；恶作剧，捣蛋，胡闹 | |
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15
primordial
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| adj.原始的；最初的 | |
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16
instinctive
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| adj.(出于)本能的；直觉的；(出于)天性的 | |
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17
artillery
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| n.(军)火炮，大炮；炮兵(部队) | |
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18
lone
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| adj.孤寂的，单独的；唯一的 | |
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19
longing
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| n.（for）渴望 | |
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20
impudent
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| adj.鲁莽的，卑鄙的，厚颜无耻的 | |
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21
humbled
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| adj. 卑下的，谦逊的，粗陋的 vt. 使 ... 卑下，贬低 | |
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22
blurred
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| v.（使）变模糊( blur的过去式和过去分词 )；（使）难以区分；模模糊糊；迷离 | |
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23
deceptive
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| adj.骗人的，造成假象的，靠不住的 | |
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24
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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25
grumbled
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| 抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
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26
shovel
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| n.铁锨，铲子，一铲之量；v.铲，铲出 | |
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27
shovels
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| n.铲子( shovel的名词复数 )；锹；推土机、挖土机等的)铲；铲形部份v.铲子( shovel的第三人称单数 )；锹；推土机、挖土机等的)铲；铲形部份 | |
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28
labyrinth
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| n.迷宫；难解的事物；迷路 | |
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29
sleepers
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| n.卧铺（通常以复数形式出现）；卧车( sleeper的名词复数 )；轨枕；睡觉（呈某种状态）的人；小耳环 | |
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30
battalion
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| n.营；部队；大队(的人) | |
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31
rumour
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| n.谣言，谣传，传闻 | |
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32
dexterous
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| adj.灵敏的；灵巧的 | |
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33
shovelled
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| v.铲子( shovel的过去式和过去分词 )；锹；推土机、挖土机等的)铲；铲形部份 | |
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34
tapering
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| adj.尖端细的 | |
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35
props
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| 小道具； 支柱( prop的名词复数 )； 支持者； 道具； （橄榄球中的）支柱前锋 | |
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36
entanglements
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| n.瓜葛( entanglement的名词复数 )；牵连；纠缠；缠住 | |
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37
entanglement
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| n.纠缠，牵累 | |
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38
backwards
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| adv.往回地，向原处，倒，相反，前后倒置地 | |
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39
delved
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| v.深入探究，钻研( delve的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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40
alleys
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| 胡同，小巷( alley的名词复数 )； 小径 | |
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41
winding
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| n.绕，缠，绕组，线圈 | |
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42
fascination
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| n.令人着迷的事物，魅力，迷恋 | |
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43
impeded
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| 阻碍，妨碍，阻止( impede的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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44
lurking
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| 潜在 | |
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45
wriggling
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| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的现在分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等）；蠕蠕 | |
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46
belly
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| n.肚子，腹部；(像肚子一样)鼓起的部分，膛 | |
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47
wriggled
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| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的过去式和过去分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等） | |
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48
sergeant
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| n.警官，中士 | |
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49
hush
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| int.嘘，别出声；n.沉默，静寂；v.使安静 | |
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50
wagons
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| n.四轮的运货马车( wagon的名词复数 )；铁路货车；小手推车 | |
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51
clattered
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| 发出咔哒声（clatter的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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52
barbs
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| n.（箭头、鱼钩等的）倒钩( barb的名词复数 )；带刺的话；毕露的锋芒；钩状毛 | |
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53
bent
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| n.爱好，癖好；adj.弯的；决心的，一心的 | |
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54
brittle
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| adj.易碎的；脆弱的；冷淡的；(声音)尖利的 | |
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55
perspiration
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| n.汗水；出汗 | |
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56
suspense
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| n.（对可能发生的事）紧张感，担心，挂虑 | |
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57
guts
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| v.狼吞虎咽，贪婪地吃，飞碟游戏（比赛双方每组5人，相距15码，互相掷接飞碟）；毁坏（建筑物等）的内部( gut的第三人称单数 )；取出…的内脏n.勇气( gut的名词复数 )；内脏；消化道的下段；肠 | |
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58
almighty
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| adj.全能的，万能的；很大的，很强的 | |
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