Every effort was made to alleviate the trials of the men in the trenches. Braziers and other roughly constructed devices were manufactured by our ubiquitous Sappers. Earthen vessels filled with charcoal, when procurable, were distributed along the trenches; extra socks were issued and straw was rolled under the puttees. A percentage of gum boots were sent out by the “Indian Soldiers’ Fund,” and woollen gloves were freely supplied. General Headquarters did all they could to help us, and the Medical Officers and unit commanders were indefatigable in their labours to keep the men fit during the severe ordeal of that ghastly winter. In this war, when of necessity the Armies lay for so long opposite to one another in the same positions, the public naturally associated the Infantry soldier with the greatest hardships which had to be borne. He lived in the trenches, he held the front line when attacked, or led the assault when in advance, but behind him was the man with the big guns. This latter had some advantages over his Infantry comrade: he was farther from the rifle and machine-gun, and out of the range of the grenade and trench mortar, but without him no front line could have been held for an hour and no attack would ever have been possible. Moreover, he was the target most sought by the enemy; the prying aeroplane could easily trace the trenches, but its chief prey was the battery in rear, and once found it very soon received the concentrated attention of the hostile guns. The men in front knew all this well. They loved their field guns, their constant companions and always the nearest to them. The howitzers were their closest allies when the Hun trench had to be searched and knocked about; the biggest pieces behind them were the loyal parents who closely supported them when necessity arose, and watching over all farthest back were the monsters in those days still in a state of manufacture, affectionately spoken of in later times as Grandmothers. And so the gunners, like those farther forward, took their full, and often more than full, share of the daily work. They lived in great discomfort, for you cannot be constantly moving guns in concealed positions; the labour is vast, and so long as you are undiscovered so much the better to remain there. Hence when the pits and dug-outs filled with water, they just made the best of it, and the confidence inspired by these splendid soldiers and their guns was something they could not help realising, however modest. The Indians, even more than their British comrades, put implicit faith in the Artillery. So long as Jack Sepoy could hear the moan or the roar of the missiles from his beloved guns speeding overhead towards the enemy lines he rested assured that come what might all was well. CHAPTER IX