World War, 1914-1918 -- Personal narratives, English
The weather continues fine, and everything points to another show about
the 15th. The Huns have put up a lot of wire, but the field guns have
been shooting this down steadily for three days now, and the heavies are
coming into position. This morning when I was up, our shells were
falling dead in the belts of wire and cutting broad lanes through it.
Sent in two recommendations for Military Medals for work in the last
show:—
MOUNTED CORPORAL.—For great gallantry and devotion to duty in bringing
up transport and supplies under heavy shell-fire and at great personal
risk. His action greatly contributed to the success of the section in
its work of helping forward the guns.
A SAPPER.—For conspicuous gallantry and devotion to duty when repairing
a bridge under heavy shell-fire for the advance of the artillery. He set
a fine example to his comrades, and persevered with his work until it
was completed, regardless of great personal danger.
It was hard to write the above, knowing that every man equally deserves
those medals—the whole institution of awards ought to be abolished;
except, perhaps, the V.C.
_Oct. 12._ Skipper returned from leave. Company still carrying on with
roads. No. 2 Section out with me all night widening a bridge. It was a
miserable night with heavy rain and howling wind, but the men worked
cheerfully and a lot of work was done. So far as we are concerned all is
now ready for the next attack.
_Oct. 13._ The attack is to start early on the morning of the 14th, and
will be general along the Army front. The company received orders to
move forward to-day, but I had to go on to Brigade before they started
or before I knew exactly where they were going. I left Brigade shortly
after dusk and returned to find two companies of Pioneers who were
detailed to work under me to-morrow. I knew they were somewhere in the
morass near the Menin road, but I blundered about for two hours before I
found them. It required all my will power to keep me going, and when
finally I saw their tents I was in the last stages of exhaustion—several
times I must have been very near to them, but it was impossible to see
more than 20 yards, and I had passed away again, going round and round
in circles. I was so weak towards the end that I used to lie still in
the mud for several minutes every time I fell, aching in every muscle,
and wondering how many more times I could fall without dropping off to
sleep.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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