World War, 1914-1918 -- Campaigns -- Western Front; World War, 1914-1918 -- Personal narratives, Canadian
My round of pleasure that afternoon ended with an exhibition dance by
"Shorty" and the Giantess of Lebezet, as announced by one of the
boys, and the way that girl whirled me off my feet was uproariously
appreciated by the audience, and in my final whirl she wound up by
catching me and hoisting me up in the air and imprinting a sound
smack on my lips. I must hasten to add that this favor from the
perspiring amazon was not at all to my liking, but I couldn't very
well protest for two reasons: First, I was utterly helpless in her
grasp and, second, it might have been poor taste. So I joined in the
laugh.
Much happened during our two days out, but do not think because we
were not in the trenches that we were out of danger. In a quiet time
the safest place sometimes is the very front line, as the enemy is
often no more than twenty yards away and neither side dare shell the
other for fear of hitting their own men.
On our march from Armentieres there came a blinding snow storm,
together with a wind that seemed strong enough to take us off our
feet. It was almost dark and we were compelled to halt, as the
transports coming the opposite way were held up. We sheltered as
best we could, but it was a muddy wet bunch of boys that tramped into
Salle late that night, where we rested till next morning. As usual,
we were placed in barns, and I was fortunate enough to get a fine
bunch of straw. I didn't require any rocking to sleep that night.
Next morning a bunch of us slipped out and dined on the best in a
partly demolished _estaminet_. Having a good working knowledge of
French, if the people speak slowly, I acted as interpreter for the
boys. If I did not remember the exact word, I would say it in
English. As Tommy Atkins had been very chummy with the natives here,
they had acquired some decidedly Billingsgate English; so in a
mixture of bad French and English profanity we got along fairly well.
It was side-splitting though to hear our hostess speaking pure French
interlarded with fearful oaths of profanity in English, the nature of
which she was entirely ignorant. She, poor soul, imagined she was
speaking our tongue very well.
Another luxury came our way in the shape of a bath and complete
change of clothing. We took our ablutions in the big brewery vats
and barrels. Here was the water wagon with a vengeance. After a
grueling afternoon of bayonet fighting practice we were away again
till at last the now familiar star shells told us that we were going
to exchange greetings with Fritz once more.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: GERMAN SHELL EXPLODING NEAR BRITISH BATTERY.]
The Germans are trying to get the range of the hidden battery. Two
of the Tommies of the gun crew are taking cover to avoid injury from
the flying bits of shell.
---------------------------------------------------------------------
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account