The turrets1 twain that stood in air
Sheltered a foeman sniper there;
They found who fell to the sniper's aim,
A field of death on the field of fame—
And stiff in khaki the boys were laid,
To the rifle's toll2 at the barricade3;
But the quick went clattering4 through the town,
Shot at the sniper and brought him down,
In the town of Loos in the morning.
The night was wet, the rain dripped from the sandbags and lay in little pools on the floor of the trench5. Snug6 in the shelter of its keep a machine gun lurked7 privily8, waiting for blood. The weapon had an absolutely impersonal9 air; it had nothing to do with war and the maiming of men. Two men were asleep in the bay, sitting on the fire-step and snoring loudly. A third man leant over the parapet, his eyes (if they were open) fixed10 on the enemy's trench in front. Probably he was asleep; he stood fixed to his post motionless as a statue. I wrapped my overcoat tightly round my body and lay down in the slush by a[187] dug-out door. The dug-out, a German construction that burrowed11 deep in the chalky clay of Loos, was crowded with queer, distorted figures. It looked as if the dead on the field had been collected and shovelled12 into the place pell-mell. Bill Teake lay with his feet inside the shelter, his head and shoulders out in the rain. "I couldn't get in nohow," he grumbled13 as I lay down; "so I arst them inside to throw me a 'andful of fleas14 an' I'd kip on the doorstep. Blimey! 'tain't arf a barney; mud feathers, and no blurry15 blanket. There's one thing certain, anyhow, that is, in the Army you're certain to receive what you get."
I was asleep immediately, my head on Bill's breast, my body in the mud, my clothes sodden16 with rain. In the nights that followed Loos we slept anywhere and anyhow. Men lay in the mud in the trenches17, in the fields, by the roadside, on sentry18, and out on listening patrols between the lines. I was asleep for about five minutes when someone woke me up. I got to my feet, shivering with cold.
"What's up?" I asked the soldier who had shaken me from my slumber19. He was standing20 opposite, leaning against the parados and yawning.
"There's a bloke in the next dug-out as 'as got wounded," said the man. "'E needs[188] someone to dress 'is wound an' take 'im to the dressin'-station. 'E 'as just crawled in from the fields."
"All right," I replied. "I'll go along and see him."
A stairway led down to the dug-out; an officer lay asleep at the entrance, and a lone21 cat lay curled up on the second step. At the bottom of the stair was a bundle of khaki, moaning feebly.
"Much hurt?" I asked.
"Feelin' a bit rotten," replied a smothered22 voice.
"Where's your wound?"
"On my left arm."
"What is your regiment23?" I asked, fumbling24 at the man's sleeve.
"The East Yorks," was the reply to my question. "I was comin' up the trench that's piled with dead Germans. I couldn't crawl over them all the way, they smelt25 so bad. I got up and tried to walk; then a sniper got me."
"Where's your regiment?" I asked.
"I don't know," was the answer. "I got lost and I went lookin' for my mates. I came into a trench that was crowded with Germans."
"There's where you got hit," I said.
"No; they were Germans that wasn't dead," came the surprising reply. "They were cooking food."
[189]
"When was this?" I asked.
"Yesterday, just as it was growin' dusk," said the wounded man in a weary voice. "Then the Germans saw me and they began to shout and they caught hold of their rifles. I jumped over the trench and made off with bullets whizzin' all round me. I tripped and fell into a shell-hole and I lay there until it was very dark. Then I got into the English trenches. I 'ad a sleep till mornin', then I set off to look for my regiment."
While he was speaking I had lit the candle which I always carried in my pocket and placed it on the floor of the dug-out. I examined his wound. A bullet had gone through the left forearm, cutting the artery26 and fracturing the bone; the blood was running down to his finger tips in little rivulets27. I looked at the face of the patient. He was a mere28 boy, with thoughtful dark eyes, a snub nose, high cheekbones; a line of down showed on a long upper lip, and a fringe of innocent curling hairs straggled down his cheeks and curved round his chin. He had never used a razor.
I bound up the wound, found a piece of bread in my pocket and gave it to him. He ate ravenously29.
"Hungry?" I said.
"As a 'awk," he answered. "I didn't 'ave nothin' to-day and not much yesterday."
[190]
"How long have you been out here?" I asked.
"Only a week," he said. "The regiment marched from —— to here. 'Twasn't 'arf a bloomin' sweat. We came up and got into action at once."
"You'll be going home with this wound," I said.
"Will I?" he asked eagerly.
"Yes," I replied. "A fracture of the forearm. It will keep you in England for six months. How do you like that?"
"I'll be pleased," he said.
"Have you a mother?" I asked.
"No, but I've a girl."
"Oh!"
"Not 'arf I aven't," said the youth. "I've only one, too. I don't 'old with foolin' about with women. One's enough to be gone on, and often one is one too many."
"Very sound reasoning," I remarked sleepily. I had sat down on the floor and was dozing30 off.
The officer at the top of the stair stirred, shook himself and glanced down.
"Put out that light," he growled31. "It's showing out of the door. The Germans will see it and send a shell across."
I put the candle out and stuck it in my pocket.
[191]
"Are you in pain now?" I asked the wounded boy.
"There's no pain now," was the answer. "It went away when you put the dressing32 on."
"Then we'll get along to the dressing-station," I said, and we clambered up the stairs into the open trench.
The sky, which was covered with dark grey clouds when I came in, had cleared in parts, and from time to time the moon appeared like a soft beautiful eye. The breezes held converse33 on the sandbags. I could hear the subdued34 whispering of their prolonged consultation35. We walked along the peopled alley36 of war, where the quick stood on the banquettes, their bayonets reflecting the brilliance37 of the moon. When we should get as far as the trench where the dead Germans were lying we would venture into the open and take the high road to Maroc.
"So you've got a girl," I said to my companion.
"I have," he answered. "And she's not 'arf a one either. She's a servant in a gentleman's 'ouse at Y——. I was workin' for a baker38 and I used to drive the van. What d'ye work at?"
"I'm a navvy," I said. "I dig drains and things like that."
[192]
"Not much class that sort of work," said the baker's boy. "If you come to Y—— after the war I'll try and get yer a job at the baker's.... Well, I saw this 'ere girl at the big 'ouse and I took a fancy to 'er. Are yer much gone on girls? No, neither am I gone on any, only this one. She's a sweet thing. I'd read you the last letter she sent me only it's too dark. Maybe I could read it if the moon comes out. Can you read a letter by the light of the moon? No.... Well, I took a fancy to the girl and she fell in love with me. 'Er name was Polly Pundy. What's your name?"
"Socrates," I said.
"My name is plain Brown," the boy said. "Jimmy Brown. My mates used to call me Tubby because I was stout39. Have you got a nickname? No.... I don't like a nickname. Neither does Polly."
"How does your love affair progress?" I asked.
"It's not all 'oney," said the youth, trying to evade40 a projecting sandbag that wanted to nudge his wounded arm. "It makes one think. Somehow, I like that 'ere girl too well to be 'appy with 'er. She's too good for me, she is. I used to be jealous sometimes; I would strike a man as would look at 'er as quick as I'd think of it. Sometimes when a young feller passed by and didn't[193] look at my Polly I'd be angry too. 'Wasn't she good enough for 'im?' I'd say to myself; usin' 'is eyes to look at somethin' else when Polly is about——"
"We'll get over the top now," I said, interrupting Brown. We had come to the trench of the dead Germans. In front of us lay a dark lump coiled up in the trench; a hand stretched out towards us, a wan41 face looked up at the grey sky.... "We'll speak of Polly Pundy out in the open."
We crossed the sandbagged parados. The level lay in front—grey, solitary42, formless. It was very quiet, and in the silence of the fields where the whirlwind of war had spent its fury a few days ago there was a sense of eternal loneliness and sadness. The grey calm night toned the moods of my soul into one of voiceless sorrow, containing no element of unrest. My mood was well in keeping with my surroundings. In the distance I could see the broken chimney of Maroc coal-mine standing forlorn in the air. Behind, the Twin Towers of Loos quivered, grimly spectral43.
"We'll walk slowly, Brown," I said to the wounded boy. "We'll fall over the dead if we're not careful.... Is Polly Pundy still in the gentleman's house?" I asked.
"She's still there," said the boy. "When we get married we're goin' to open a little shop."
[194]
"A baker's shop?" I asked.
"I s'pose so. It's what I know more about than anythink else. D'you know anything about baking.... Nothing? It's not a bad thing to turn your 'and to, take my tip for it.... Ugh! I almost fell over a dead bloke that time.... I'm sleepy, aren't you?"
"By God! I am sleepy, Jimmy Brown," I muttered. "I'll try and find a cellar in Maroc when I get there and have a good sleep."
The dressing-station in the ruined village was warm and comfortable. An R.A.M.C. orderly was busily engaged in making tea for the wounded who lay crowded in the cellar waiting until the motor ambulances came up. Some had waited for twenty-four hours. Two doctors were busy with the wounded, a German officer with an arm gone lay on a stretcher on the floor; a cat was asleep near the stove, I could hear it purring.
Mick Garney, one of our boys, was lying on the stretcher near the stove. He was wounded in the upper part of the thigh44, and was recounting his adventures in the charge. He had a queer puckered45 little face, high cheekbones, and a little black clay pipe, which he always carried inside his cap on parade and in his haversack on the march, that was of course when he was not carrying[195] it between his teeth with its bowl turned down. Going across in the charge, Micky observed some half a dozen Germans rushing out from a spinney near Hill 70, and placing a machine gun on the Vermelles-Hulluch road along which several kilted Highlanders were coming at the double. Garney took his pipe out of his mouth and looked on. They were daring fellows, those Germans, coming out into the open in the face of a charge and placing their gun in position. "I must stop their game," said Mick.
He lit his pipe, turned the bowl down, then lay on the damp earth and, using a dead German for a rifle-rest, he took careful aim. At the pull of the trigger, one of the Germans fell headlong, a second dropped and a third. The three who remained lugged46 the gun back into Loos churchyard and placed it behind a tombstone on which was the figure of two angels kneeling in front of "The Sacred Heart." Accompanied by two bombers47, Mick Garney found the Germans there.
"God forgive me!" said Mick, recounting the incident to the M.O., "I threw a bomb that blew the two angels clean off the tombstone."
"And the Germans?" asked the M.O.
"Begorra! they went with the angels."
... A doctor, a pot-bellied man with a[196] kindly48 face and an innocent moustache, took off Brown's bandage and looked at me.
"How are things going on up there?" he asked.
"As well as might be expected," I replied.
"You look worn out," said the doctor.
"I feel worn out," I answered.
"Is it a fact that the German Crown Prince has been captured?" asked the doctor.
"Who?"
"The German Crown Prince," said the man. "A soldier who has just gone away from here vows49 that he saw Little Willie under escort in Loos."
"Oh, it's all bunkum," I replied. "I suppose the man has had too much rum."
The doctor laughed.
"Well, sit down and I'll see if I can get you a cup of tea," he said in a kindly voice, and at his word I sat down on the floor. I was conscious of nothing further until the following noon. I awoke to find myself in a cellar, wrapped in blankets and lying on a stretcher. I went upstairs and out into the street and found that I had been sleeping in the cellar of the house adjoining the dressing-station.
I called to mind Jimmy Brown, his story of Polly Pundy; his tale of passion told on the field of death, his wound and his luck. A week in France only, and now going back[197] again to England, to Polly Pundy, servant in a gentleman's house. He was on his way home now probably, a wound in his arm and dreams of love in his head. You lucky devil, Jimmy Brown!... Anyhow, good fortune to you.... But meanwhile it was raining and I had to get back to the trenches.
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1
turrets
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| （六角）转台( turret的名词复数 )； （战舰和坦克等上的）转动炮塔； （摄影机等上的）镜头转台； （旧时攻城用的）塔车 | |
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2
toll
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| n.过路(桥)费；损失，伤亡人数；v.敲(钟) | |
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3
barricade
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| n.路障，栅栏，障碍；vt.设路障挡住 | |
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clattering
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| 发出咔哒声（clatter的现在分词形式） | |
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5
trench
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| n./v.(挖)沟，(挖)战壕 | |
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6
snug
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| adj.温暖舒适的，合身的，安全的；v.使整洁干净，舒适地依靠，紧贴；n.（英）酒吧里的私房 | |
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7
lurked
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| vi.潜伏，埋伏（lurk的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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8
privily
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| adv.暗中，秘密地 | |
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9
impersonal
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| adj.无个人感情的，与个人无关的，非人称的 | |
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10
fixed
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| adj.固定的，不变的，准备好的；(计算机)固定的 | |
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11
burrowed
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| v.挖掘（洞穴），挖洞( burrow的过去式和过去分词 )；翻寻 | |
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12
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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13
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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14
fleas
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| n.跳蚤( flea的名词复数 )；爱财如命；没好气地（拒绝某人的要求） | |
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15
blurry
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| adj.模糊的；污脏的，污斑的 | |
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16
sodden
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| adj.浑身湿透的；v.使浸透；使呆头呆脑 | |
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17
trenches
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| 深沟，地沟( trench的名词复数 )； 战壕 | |
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18
sentry
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| n.哨兵，警卫 | |
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19
slumber
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| n.睡眠，沉睡状态 | |
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20
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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21
lone
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| adj.孤寂的，单独的；唯一的 | |
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22
smothered
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| （使）窒息， （使）透不过气( smother的过去式和过去分词 )； 覆盖； 忍住； 抑制 | |
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23
regiment
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| n.团，多数，管理；v.组织，编成团，统制 | |
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24
fumbling
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| n. 摸索,漏接 v. 摸索,摸弄,笨拙的处理 | |
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25
smelt
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| v.熔解，熔炼；n.银白鱼，胡瓜鱼 | |
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26
artery
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| n.干线，要道；动脉 | |
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27
rivulets
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| n.小河，小溪( rivulet的名词复数 ) | |
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28
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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ravenously
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| adv.大嚼地，饥饿地 | |
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30
dozing
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| v.打瞌睡,假寐 n.瞌睡 | |
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31
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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32
dressing
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| n.(食物)调料；包扎伤口的用品，敷料 | |
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33
converse
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| vi.谈话，谈天，闲聊；adv.相反的，相反 | |
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34
subdued
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| adj. 屈服的，柔和的，减弱的 动词subdue的过去式和过去分词 | |
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35
consultation
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| n.咨询；商量；商议；会议 | |
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36
alley
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| n.小巷，胡同；小径，小路 | |
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37
brilliance
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| n.光辉，辉煌，壮丽，（卓越的）才华，才智 | |
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38
baker
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| n.面包师 | |
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40
evade
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| vt.逃避，回避；避开，躲避 | |
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41
wan
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| (wide area network)广域网 | |
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42
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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43
spectral
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| adj.幽灵的，鬼魂的 | |
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44
thigh
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| n.大腿；股骨 | |
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45
puckered
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| v.（使某物）起褶子或皱纹( pucker的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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46
lugged
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| vt.用力拖拉（lug的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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47
bombers
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| n.轰炸机( bomber的名词复数 )；投弹手；安非他明胶囊；大麻叶香烟 | |
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48
kindly
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| adj.和蔼的，温和的，爽快的；adv.温和地，亲切地 | |
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49
vows
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| 誓言( vow的名词复数 )； 郑重宣布，许愿 | |
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