World War, 1914-1918 -- Personal narratives, English; World War, 1914-1918 -- Pictorial works
The incidents of the railway journey from Marseilles to Etaples, _en
route_ to Armentieres, told in detail, would fill a book. It was made in
ordinary cattle trucks, in which, packed forty to a truck, we spent four
days and a half at one stretch. Yet was it a bright and merry trip, for
our spirits were raised to the highest by the thought that we were going
into action, and we were at all sorts of expedients to make ourselves
comfortable. For instance, before we started the Stationmaster's Office
was ransacked, and every available nail pulled out to make coat and hat
pegs of in the cattle trucks. We had to sleep on the floor. Our
corporal, who was an old soldier of many campaigns, of iron physique
and a perfect Goliath, and the life and soul of our party, was so tired
when he got aboard the train, after strenuous efforts, that he fell dead
asleep on the floor, and there was so little available space, and his
massive form took up so much of what there was, that no fewer than nine
men, as they became tired and dropped down from the walls of the truck,
fell on him and went to sleep on the top of him. However, that corporal
slept the sleep of the just for four or five hours, and even then did
not awaken until, the train halting and somebody mentioning wine, there
was a scuffle, and another man stepped on his head, whereupon he flung
him off and made a good first out of the train.
[Illustration: FORTY PASSENGERS IN EACH CATTLE TRUCK.]
We were regaled at each station by the populace, who brought us cakes
and wine, small flags, toys, tin trumpets, oranges, and other fruits,
and we parted with nearly all our buttons as souvenirs.
TUB, TEA AND A HALT.
At one stopping place a large leathern hose was depending from a water
main for giving the engine water, and somebody turning this on, we all
took shower baths under it, or plunged into the huge tub alongside, some
being so keen on not missing their chance that they took their baths in
their clothes, tunics and all. Try to imagine our feelings after being
cooped up in the train for just on three days and nights and then
getting a wash or prehistoric bath!
We had a two hours' wait here, and the "dixies" (about a dozen in all)
were filled with water, and a huge fire was lighted, and soon a "long
felt want" was satisfied in the form of tea. Though it was like Indian
ink, it went down with a rare relish (I think my little lot was the best
drink of tea I ever enjoyed); but unfortunately there was no second
edition.
[Illustration: A WASH AND A WAIT.]
After our "tub" we made a line for the station, the train being so long
that only a portion of it was in it. We received a pleasant surprise
in the form of a stall, where there were cakes, buns, bottles of red
wine, fruit and many other luxuries.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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