Adventures of a Despatch Rider

oo-Leacatoo-and all firmly believe that if the French cavalry had come up to help us, as t

hill about two miles away. On this brow, stretching right and left of the road, there was a line of poplars. On the slope of the hill nearer to us there were two or three field batteries in action. To the right of us a brigade of artillery was limbered up ready to go anywhere. In the left, at the bottom of the dip the 108th was in action, partially covered by some sparse bushes. A few ambulance waggons and some miscellaneous first-line transport were drawn up along the side of the road at the bottom of the dip

position satisfactorily. Our flank is being turned. Should be very grateful for another battalion. We are under very heavy shell fire. Right through the battle I di

avies as they fired slowly, scientifically, and well. From 9 to 12.30 we remained there kicking our heels, feverishly calm, cracking the absurdest jokes. Then the word

roaning, but just men with their eye

ns came through at the gallop and with them some frightened foot-sloggers, hanging on and running for

rries, but the road was blocked and they could not get up to us. So Grimers was sent off with a haversack-mine-to fetch fuses and hu

nuous stream. I gave my water-bottle to one man who was moaning for water. A horse came galloping along. Across the saddle-bow was a ma

s a lingering tragedy. There were teams with only a limber and without a gun. And you must see it to know what a twistedly pathetic thing a gun team and limber without a gun is. There were bits of teams and teams with only a couple of drivers. The fa

d, but I could not start my engine. After trying for five minutes it seemed to me absurd to retreat, so I went back and found that apparently nobody h

eaming crash overhead-shrapnel. I ran to

fic and asked him what I should do. He told us to get out of it as we could not do anything more-"You have all done magnificently"-then he gave me some messages for our subaltern. I shouted, "So l

ggon drawn by two maddened horses came dashing down into the main street. They could not turn, so went straight

n and a subaltern making their way desperately back. I do no

ack for it," s

turn," replied the

matter," sai

tter," echoed

nk the gun could

g. The road itself was impassable. So we determined to strike off to the right. I led the way, and though we had

to the signal-office and reported that, so far as I knew, the 5

eggs and put me in charge of our lot. Then off we went, and hitting the main road

began t

were cursing the French, for right through the battle we had expected the French to come up on our right wing. There had been a whole corps of cavalry a

e sort of ordered procession out of the almost comically patchwork medley. Later I heard that the last four hundred yards of the column had been shelled to destruction as it was leavi

and a little later we pushed off into the flood. It was now getting d

tiny cottage, and the Si

as so dark that horses wandered perilously near. One hungry mare started eating the straw that was covering my chest. That was enough. Desperately we got up to look round fo

-the roads were utterly and hopelessly impassable-while the rest of the company was

. Poor soul, we could not move her! In the kitchen we discovered coffee, sugar, salt, and onions. With the aid of

ear-like the maddening refrain of a musical comedy ditty-there was always murmuring-"We shall never return. It doesn't matter." Outside wa

l killed. One murmured to another: "Magersfontein, Dour, and this-you've had some successful battles." And one went to sleep, but kept starting up, and giving a sort of strangled shout-"All gone! Al

h, while the things that were happening soaked into me like petrol into a rag. About two hours b

ng,-such haggard, broken men! The others started off, but for some little time I could not get my engine to fire. Then I got going. Quarter of a mile back I came upon a litt

light enough for me to see properly when my engine jibbed. I cleaned a choked

alarming-a gaunt, dirty, unshaven figure towering above my motor-cycle, without hat, bespattered with mud, and eyes bright and weary for want of sleep. How I hated the French! I hated them because, as I then thought, they had deserted us at Mons and again at Le Cateau; I hated