On the right of the British line Part 7

The next morning broke bright and fair, and found us still awake with eyes peering anxiously through the rising mist. We were evidently not in the front line, but were there on the Somme; and that sea of sh.e.l.l-holes which everywhere surrounded us told its own story of what had been, and what was yet to be.

At about 11 o'clock all eyes were turned towards High Wood, on the crest of the hill to the left. A burst of sh.e.l.ls from the enemy's guns told that a target had been found. We watched, and presently we could faintly see a column slowly moving along the road through the wood.

Three ammunition wagons moved slowly towards our guns. Crash! A 5.9 fell in front of the leading horses; a cloud of dense, black smoke arose and blotted the picture from view. The smoke cleared, and the little column was still moving slowly forward, undisturbed and indifferent. Crash! Crash! Two more sh.e.l.ls burst by the side of the second wagon; the smoke cleared; the horses were startled and giving trouble, but once again the defiant little column moved slowly forward, indifferent and undismayed.

We continued to watch the plucky little column, now obscured by the black smoke of the bursting sh.e.l.ls, then again emerging from the smoke, heedless of danger.

Those men were human. How could they stand it with such calm and determined indifference? The answer was the guns: the guns must be fed; and British grit and discipline were unconquerable. The army is wonderful.

At this moment I received a message calling me to headquarters, and I at once went to find my C.O.

"Well, had a good rest?" he asked.

"Not much, sir."

"Stuff and nonsense; get your map out."

I spread my map out on my knees and took a note-book out of my pocket.

The C.O. pointed on the map with his pencil:

"We are here; the ---- Regiment is there."

"Front line, sir?"

"Right bang up in the front line."

"What are the trenches like, sir?"

"No time to dig trenches; they're hanging on to a few sh.e.l.l-holes, though they may have connected them up by now. See, there's Combles, and that's Leuze Wood. We shall be on the extreme right of the British army. B Company will be on the right; C Company in the centre, and A Company on the left with D Company in support. Headquarters will be close by Falfemont Farm."

"Very good, sir."

"You won't find any farm left; been blown to dust. Men are to go in battle order; packs are to be parked just outside here, by companies.

No. 5 platoon will move off at 7 P.M., the remainder following in succession at fifty yards' interval."

I understood, and turned to go.

"By the way, I am not sure whether the Germans are in that trench or the ---- Battalion, London Regiment. Anyhow, that's where we've got to be to-night."

Half an hour later and the men were laying out their packs in long rows, by companies. Strange sight, all these packs laid out in neat rows. The reason did not need explaining. There was work at the other end of that Valley of Death; there lay the pit of the Great Adventure.

Perhaps to-night we should look into it; but how many would come back to claim their packs.

We are in the soup with a vengeance! Well, who cares?

Early that afternoon I went to my dugout, and was just trying to get a little rest, when I was disturbed by a voice outside, which sounded strangely familiar.

"Sergeant, excuse me, but is this the beastly hole where B Company is to be found?"

"Yes, sir, this is B Company's line."

"'Pon me word, extraordinary place! Demned hot; walked nearly five miles. Where's the captain?"

"In his dugout, sir, near that sh.e.l.l-hole."

"I've got to report to him; will you tell him I'm here?"

"Hadn't you better go to him, sir?"

"Oh! Is that the thing to do?"

At that moment, unable to restrain my curiosity, I came out of my dugout, and there, sure enough, was none other than the irresistible pattern of Bond Street, Septimus D'Arcy, by all that was wonderful!

There he was, with his monocle riveted in his right eye, between the frown of his eyebrow and the chubby fatness of his cheek, with the bored expression of one who saw no reason for the necessity of the fatigue which caused the undignified beads of perspiration to a.s.semble on an otherwise unruffled countenance. A pair of kid gloves, b.u.t.toned together, were hanging from the belt of his Sam Brown, and four inches of a blue-bordered silk handkerchief dangled from his sleeve. As he approached he half carried on his arm and half dragged along the ground, the burden that was known as his full marching order.

"h.e.l.lo, Septimus!" I said, as he came along, dragging his things behind him.

"Ah! h.e.l.low! Well, I'm demned! Never expected to find you here; awfully glad to meet you again."

"What are you doing here?"

"I'll be demned if I know! Uninteresting spot this--what?"

"Well, what have you come here for?"

"Nothing much. I saw a fellow in that big dugout in the valley, and he told me to report to you. The fact is, you know, you are attached to me, or I'm attached to you, or something of that sort."

"Well, you are not in Havre now; there are snipers about, and if you stand up there like that, you'll get hit."

"You don't mean to say so; that seems perfectly safe."

"Well, get down, and don't be a fool."

He carefully got down into the trench, leaving his equipment behind, probably hoping it would get lost, and we entered the dugout.

"I must tell you, captain, I am horribly fatigued. I came through the guns; very interesting and all that, but it's made my head ache."

"Have some water. It's rather muddy, but better than nothing these days."

"No, thanks; doctor warned me against drinking dirty water; dysentery and all that, don't you know. Any whisky and soda?"

"Look here, Septimus, now you are here, you must drop that nonsense."

"All right, old thing. I rather doubted the soda, but thank Heaven I've got a flask; a sort of emergency ration. Help yourself and let's drink it neat."

"How long have you been in the army, Septimus?"

"Three months. Why?"