First Aid Nursing Yeomanry; World War, 1914-1918 -- Personal narratives
We learnt later that Boche spies disguised in our uniform had been seen
in the vicinity of the trenches. That the Boche took an interest in our
Corps we knew, for, in pre-war days, we had continually received
applications from German girls who wished to become members. Needless to
say they were never accepted.
The first English troops began to filter into the town about this time,
and important "red hats" with brassards bearing the device "L. of C."
walked about the place as if indeed they had bought every stone.
Great were our surmises as to what "L. of C." actually stood for, one
suggestion being "Lords of Creation," and another, "Lords of Calais"! It
was comparatively disappointing to find out it only stood for "Lines of
Communication."
English people have a strange manner of treating their compatriots when
they meet in a foreign country. You would imagine that under the
circumstances they would waive ceremony and greet one another in
passing, but no, such is not the case. If they happen to pass in the
same street they either look haughtily at each other, with apparently
the utmost dislike, or else they gaze ahead with unseeing eyes.
We rather resented this "invasion," as we called it, and felt we could
no longer flit freely across the Place d'Armes in caps and aprons as
heretofore.
In June of 1915, my first leave, after six months' work, was due.
Instead of going to England I went to friends in Paris. The journey was
an adventure in itself and took fourteen hours, a distance that in peace
time takes four or five. We stopped at every station and very often in
between. When this occurred, heads appeared at every window to find out
the reason. _"Qu' est ce qu'il y'a?"_ everyone cried at once. It was
invariably either that a troop train was passing up the line and we must
wait for it to go by, or else part of the engine had fallen off. In the
case of the former, the train was looked for with breathless interest
and handkerchiefs waved frantically, to be used later to wipe away a
furtive tear for those _brave poilus_ or "Tommees" who were going to
fight for _la belle France_ and might never return.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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