Three years in France with the Guns: Being Episodes in the life of a Field BatteryRose, C. A.
History
Three years in France with the Guns: Being Episodes in the life of a Field Battery
Rose, C. A.
World War, 1914-1918 -- Personal narratives, English
It was soon quite evident that the enemy was acquainted with our
location, and it was imperative to prepare an alternative position. A
site was chosen across the road, in the garden of a private villa, well
sheltered by shrubs and trees. As soon as the work was completed and a
communication trench constructed, covered with turf and plants, we
commenced moving the guns. This was done without interference from the
enemy until the last gun was in the act of being placed in position,
when, as luck would have it, a shrapnel shell burst in front of the
party, mortally wounding one layer and injuring another. Our B.C.,
also, who was assisting, received a bullet through his arm, and was
forced to leave us. This was the second mishap we had suffered during
the course of the first few days, as the Right Section Commander had
already been lost to us. Having an insatiable thirst for knowledge,
this Officer had left the O.P. with his telephonist in order to explore
the front line, which, as everyone who knows the Salient will readily
own, was somewhat difficult to recognise in places, especially by a
newcomer. Suffering as he did from acute absent-mindedness, it was not
surprising that this zealous officer awakened suddenly from his
day-dreams to discover that something was wrong, and found himself
standing with his companion waist high in a shallow disused trench,
which, on further investigation, appeared uncommonly like “No Man’s
Land!” After a brief consultation, they decided to retrace their steps.
Alas! all too late: a hostile sniper, reserving his fire in the hope
that they would continue to walk into the enemy trenches, on seeing
them turn about, and thus being baulked of his prize and the prospect
of a fortnight’s leave in his own country, fired a bullet which passed
through the thighs of both men one after the other. A party of our
infantry, unable to attract their attention and put them right in time,
had witnessed this little drama, and proceeded, at great personal risk
and at the expense of at least one of their number being wounded, to
extricate the two unfortunates and convey them to the nearest dressing
station. It was not until a late hour that night that word came to us
at the Mess that the missing party had been passed through the prison
at Ypres, on their way to a C.C.S. Now, our Battery Commander, after
great trouble, had lately gained possession of an improved type of
periscope, which he had been persuaded to lend the F.O.O. on that day,
and, on receipt of this news, his first thought was for the safety of
his precious instrument. The fact that two valuable casualties had
resulted did not seem to weigh with him in the least compared with its
loss, and he was not to be consoled until it was ascertained that the
periscope was in safe keeping. Only then could he be persuaded to make
enquiries as to the nature of their wounds and express his sorrow at
their misfortune.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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