Part 8 (2/2)

The Subaltern laughed outright. This simple fellow actually believed that the English fought in scarlet. Even now he was not thoroughly convinced that they really were English. Ignorance goes hand in hand with obstinacy, and these simple old peasant folk defended their stupidity with a veritable wall of impenetrable incredulity.

The Subaltern was still laboriously engaged in explaining matters to the man, when part of the Headquarter's Staff trotted up the road with a clatter and a swing and scurry that looked as if they were wanted very urgently on the left. It was the first time during the campaign that he had seen the Corps Commander and the Chief of the General Staff on horseback.

It must have been about five o'clock when he received a message to concentrate on the main road. On the way he was accosted by a woman perfectly distraught with grief, who explained that two days ago her little son had disappeared into ”ce bois la” never to come out again.

”Si votre fils vive encore, il reviendra, bien sur, Madame. S'il est mort, moi, je ne peux pas vous aider.” Terrible to relate, the sight of such grief annoyed rather than saddened him.

The advance was continued until it was quite dark, when the Battalion denuded the usual hayrick, and ”dossed down” in the usual stubble field.

CHAPTER XIX

AN ADVANCED-GUARD ACTION

At about eleven o'clock the next morning his Company Commander--the Captain was leading as the Major was now second in command of the Battalion--told the Subaltern to ride back to the transport wagons and get some fresh maps and some chocolate which he had left in one of the carts. It was pleasant to get a ride, and to rest one's feet for awhile, so he took his time in getting back to the transport.

No sooner had he reached the wagons than a gun boomed. He thought nothing of that, however. Guns were always going off, at the oddest times, and without any apparent reason. Four seconds later another rolled out, followed closely by a third, fourth and fifth. Soon a regular cannonade broke out. There was obviously mischief in the air, so he crammed the maps hastily into his haversack and the chocolate into his pocket and regained the Battalion as soon as he could on the exhausted animal. Even as he was pressing forward, he heard the crackle of musketry somewhere out of sight on the left.

Of course, the very thing that he had feared had happened. His Company had been rapidly deployed and had already disappeared over the crest. He explained matters to the Major who was in command of the remainder during the Colonel's absence; dismounted, and set off on foot towards the sounds of the firing. He ran against the Company Sergeant-Major in charge of the ammunition, who told him where his Platoon was.

The next thing was to cross the fire-swept crest. Now, crossing fire-swept crests is manifestly unpleasant--especially if you are alone.

If you are leading fifty men at least one and half times as old as you are, who look to you for guidance and control, it is not so bad. Bravery is very closely allied to ”conspicuous gallantry,” and ”conspicuous gallantry” in the field is almost impossible when there is no one to look on. But he was too tired to worry much whether he was. .h.i.t or not, and his Platoon had to be reached as soon as possible.

He found them lined up behind a small bank, waiting for orders to reinforce the first line. Taking his gla.s.ses out of their case, he crawled forward to have a look at the position for himself. The Platoon in front was established behind a mud bank, firing occasional shots at the enemy, who appeared to have dug himself in behind a railway cutting at least five hundred yards distant. Although bullets were humming pretty thickly through the air, the casualties on the British side so far were only two or three men slightly wounded. They had orders to ”hang on” to that position until the centre and right should be sufficiently strengthened for the main attack to materialise, when they were to push on as best they might. Having learnt this, the Subaltern crawled back, and sent out three men ”to establish touch” with the front Platoon.

An hour pa.s.sed before anything further happened. During that time the Platoon Sergeant told him of the great difficulty they had had in reaching this advanced position at all, as they had been sh.e.l.led from the front by the enemy, and from the left by their own batteries.

Accidents such as this often happened, and the artillery were not really as culpable as would at first sight appear. Advanced-guard actions materialised so suddenly, and situations changed so quickly, that it was not always possible to circulate precise orders. The gunners' ideas of the relative positions seemed to be, during the opening stages of the attack, rather hazy--a fact that was very much resented by the men. ”We ain't come out 'ere to be targets to them ruddy gunners,” one fellow grumbled.

Soon, however, things straightened out, and in an hour's time the various movements preparatory to the attack had been completed. The enemy, seeing that he was almost surrounded, and that it would be impossible to extricate the greater part of his command from the battle, resolved at least to save his guns, which were accordingly withdrawn.

When at length the Subaltern's Platoon pushed forward in the wake of the leading Platoon, no less a personage appeared unaccountably on the scene than the Colonel. He had thrown off the worried look that had been growing on him of late. Some of the officers, too junior to understand how uneasy lies the head that is crowned with the responsibility for many lives, had been heard to say that the Colonel's manner and general outlook upon the campaign was tinged with unnecessary anxiety, and that he had no right to allow the Germans to disturb his peace of mind. If this were so, the presence of actual and tangible danger completely obliterated all traces of nerves. He stood up in the firing-line. He drew himself up to the full of his height, and seemed to inhale with pleasure the dangerous air. All the time bullets were humming overhead like swift and malignant insects, or striking the ground with a spatter of brown earth.

The Adjutant, following him, suddenly bent double as if he had been struck below the belt; but the Colonel merely straightened himself, and not a nerve in his phlegmatic face twitched.

”What's the matter?” asked the Colonel.

”Only a bullet struck my revolver hilt, sir,” replied the Adjutant. It had splintered the woodwork and been deflected between his arm and ribs.

Near by a man rose on his knees to get a better shot at the enemy.

”What's that man doing? Get down there this moment!” roared the Colonel.

Then, as he recognised an old soldier of the regiment, ”Atkins, how dare you expose yourself unnecessarily? Your wife used to do my was.h.i.+ng in Tidshot. Me? Oh, I'm only an old bachelor. It doesn't matter about me. There's n.o.body to care what happens to me.” And, well pleased with his joke, the Colonel pa.s.sed down the line, proud of his magnificent bravery.

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