Chapter 25: Bapaume and "A Blighty"

How the Germans smile as their bases of operation lie in such security, for, of course, sentiment has been erased from the German character forever. The French made the mistake again in regard to Bapaume of crediting the Germans with human feelings-they vainly hoped that the Germans would respect historic monuments when they gained no military advantage by destroying

But every day that the war is prolonged adding to the evidence already so colossal that the German is a beast who wantonly destroys and takes sheer joy in slaying, burning, and smashing, destroying for destruction's sake, and killing for the sight of blood. When we drove the Germans from Bapaume they left it in ruins as utter as though we had bombarded it, but so much more systematic was their destruction ! In the market square there is a hole large enough to hold a cathedral, made by the mine they exploded as they left, which was so senseless as almost to make it seem that, like children, they wanted to hear how big a bang they could make. 

But their devilish lack of humour is more plainly shown in the system with which they destroyed the orchards in the country further back. Every tree was cut at exactly the same height from the ground, and carefully laid in the selfsame way. Not one of them deviated a hair's-breadth in its position on the ground from the angle made by its neighbour. They must have spent hours in obtaining such hellish regularity. Wed System to Lust and you have an alliance of Satan with the hag Sycorax, and their offspring is the German Empire, the Caliban of nations.

The highest point of the church-tower, how-ever, before the days of our advance, was its cross, and in our misery we could always see this symbol of hope and salvation ; but it was a reminder too of pain and suffering endured that man's spirit might be free, and as we also were suffering and enduring in freedom's cause, we knew that our strife was religion, and our accomplishment would be salvation.

And what we endured in that bitter cold has warred our memories and added to our bodies the aging of years. In the chronic agony of cold the pain of wounds was an alleviation, and I have seen men who had just had their arms blown off wave the jagged stump and laugh as they called out-' Got a " Blighty " at last, sir ! ' We were standing up to our waists in liquid mud by day, into which we would freeze at night. I have gone along the trench and kicked and punched my boys into sensibility, and said : ' Is there anything I can do for you, boys ? Can't I get you anything ? ' ' Oh no, sir. We're all right, but don't we envy old Nick and his imps to-night '

Who is there that is not abashed in the presence of a spirit like that ? And had you been there and these your men, wouldn't you love them as I do ? Never did the spirit of man rise more glorious to the demand of hard occasion, than when those boys of Australia laughed and joked in the tortures of hell. Eighty per cent. of them had never known a temperature lower than thirty above zero, and here was a cold more biting than they had ever dreamed of, and they were without protection, living in a filthy ditch, never dry, their clothing unable to keep out wet or cold. Back in camp every man had a complaint, where it is the province of the soldier to grumble. 

In those days the orderly officer would go round with his question of ' Any complaints?' 'Yes, look here, sir. What do you think of that?' 'Why, dear me, man, it seems very good soup!' ' Yes, sir, but it is supposed to be stew ! ' Why, if the Australian soldier did not complain, you might suspect a mutiny brewing ! Too much marmalade, and not enough plum ! etc. 

I never thought there was as much marmalade in the world as I myself have consumed on active service ! Those days when we were well off, and did not know it, with dry beds and a clean tent, with good warm food, and plenty to eat and drink, the boys were always 'kicking' about something or other, but now when things were hellish bad, under conditions when wounds were a luxury and death a release you never heard a complaint. There were days too when an enemy barrage cut off our supplies and prevented relief, and we were compelled to live on dry biscuits and cold water, taking our water from the shell-holes where the dead were rotting. 

I remember when I was wounded and being carried out of the trench my brother officers saying to me : " Oh, Knyvett, you lucky dog!' And I was lucky, and knew it, though I had twenty wounds and trench feet. Why, when I arrived at the hospital and lay in a real bed, with real sheets, and warm blankets, with a roof over my head that didn't leak, and a fire in the room, with the nurse now and again to come along and smile on me, I tell you heaven had no extra attractions to offer me. 

The man who got wounded in those days was a lucky dog, all right ; in fact, he mostly is at all times, and about the silliest thing the War Office ever did was to issue an honour stripe for wounds. The man deserving of the greatest credit is not the man who gets wounded, but the man who stays on in' the trenches week after week, and month after month enduring the nervous strain and unnatural conditions, living like a rat in a hole in the ground. There are none who have been there for any length of time who do not welcome the sharp pain of a wound as a relief.

The Germans opposite us in their trenches at Bapaume were, of course, in as bad a plight as we were. When I scouted down their trenches at night I found equipment and stores lying on top of the parapet. Evidently the mud in the bottom of their trenches was as bad as in ours, and anything dropped had to be fished for. Perhaps there were no deep dug-outs just there. We would not allow our men to use these deep dug-outs as nothing so conduces to bad morale. 

Once men get deep down out of range of the shells they are very, very reluctant to leave their 'funk-holes'. A man has to be hardened to shell-fire before he is of any value as a fighter, and these deep dug-outs take men out of reach of most of the shells, and  when they come in the open again they have to be hardened anew.

It is not generally a wise plan to occupy the old German trench as he has the range of it very accurately, and any way it is in most cases so badly battered about after our artillery has done with it as not to be at all superior as a residence to the shell-holes in front of it, and it is mostly full of dead Germans which are unearthed by the shells as often as we bury them. God knows the smell of a live German is not a pleasant thing to live near, but as for dead ones ! . .

Our method was to construct a new trench about fifty yards in advance by linking up a chain of shell-holes, and we felt the labour to be worth when we saw the shells falling behind us, and it was not much harder than if we had had to clean out the old German trench.

On our right flank there was a gap of a hundred yards, that we patrolled two or- three times a night, and in our net we sometimes caught some Germans who were lost. On one occasion a German with a string of water-bottles round his neck, and a 'grunt' that may have been a password, stepped down into our trench. He had evidently been out to get water for himself and comrades from their nearest supply, and taken the wrong turning ! He made an attempt at a grin when he found where he was, and evidently thought the change could not be for the worse. 

He was so thick in the head, however-I have known cows with more intelligence-that I wonder any other German being fool enough to trust him with such a valuable article as a water-bottle. We were planning to take a portion of the trench opposite to straighten our line, and I had scouted down a hundred yards of it from behind, and got a good idea of the strength with which it was held, taking bearings of its position. The next night, as the attack was to take place at daybreak, I thought I had better go over and make sure that I had made no mistakes. 

I crossed over the first trench without any difficulty. There did not seem to be any one on guard. I then went toward their support lines where there seemed to be more men, mostly working parties. I passed these and with unpardonable carelessness stood up to have a look round, thinking that it was too dark for me to be seen. But I got a shock to find there was a sentry almost beside me-though he was, if anything, more scared than myself. He pulled the trigger without taking aim and naturally missed me, but if he had been wide awake he could with case have punctured me with his bayonet. 

I did not stop to pass the time of day with him, for the place seemed suddenly alive with Huns as he called 'Heinz, Heinz !' -probably the name of his corporal - but I dived into a shell-hole and flattened myself as much as possible. As I was lost to sight and to memory too dear to be allowed to escape they began to cover the ground with bombs. These all went well beyond me, and had it not been for 'Butter-fingers' I might have escaped. But a bomb slipped from his hand, rolling into the hole in front of him. He jumped back into the safety of the trench, and did not know that the bomb had fallen on me as it exploded. 

But I knew it-my left leg was broken in three places, twelve wounds in my right, and others on my back, twenty that afterward had to be dressed, not counting some other scratches. Then they came out to look for me, my ' friend ' almost stepping on me, but after half an hour's fruitless search they gave up. About two hours later I started home on my long, painful crawl. It took me about twenty minutes to pass the sentry near where I was lying, but after that there was no danger of discovery-the front line still appearing almost unoccupied ; but I was getting dizzy and not sure of my direction. 

I knew, however, where there was a derelict aeroplane in No Man's Land, and made toward it. When I sighted this I was overcome with relief, and laid my face in the mud for a while to recover. I had now crawled about six hundred yards dragging my useless legs. And my elbows were skinned through, being used as grapples that I dug in the ground ahead, in that wav dragging myself a few inches at a time. I knew our trenches were still about two hundred yards away, and the sweat of fear broke out on me as I remembered the two machine-guns in front of me that would fire on anything seen moving out there, no one expecting me to return that way. 

So I crawled higher up the line, where it was safer to enter, and a few yards from our trenches gave our scouting call. Several of my boys came running out and tenderly picked me up. I was all in and could not move a muscle. My own boys would not allow the stretcher bearers to touch me, but six of them put me on a stretcher and carried me over the top just as day was breaking. They would not go down into the communication- trench or shell-holes because they thought it would be too rough on me, and so carried me over the exposed ground ; and when they got me to the dressing station they said ' You will come back to us, sir, won't you ? ' I said : ' Yes, boys, you bet I will ! ' And you may bet that I shall, as soon as ever I am passed as fit again.

The pain of my wounds was soon. altogether forgotten, for each medical officer that examined me finished up with the liquid melody of the phrase: ' Blighty for you!' My leave was long past due, and the very next day I was to report for transfer to the Australian wing of the Royal Flying Corps, which would have meant several weeks' training in England, but ' the best laid schemes o' mice and men gang aft a-gley ! 'and there 's a science shapes our ends, rough-hack them though Huns may !