Adventures of a Despatch Rider

who lived in the filthy farms around. We left Givenchy a jumble of shuttered houses and barricaded cellars. A few Germans were encamped upon the site of Violaines. The great clock of Festuber

he most joyous things in the world for a despatch rider. There is never any need to hurry. You can take any road you will. You may choose your tavern for lunch with expert care. And when ne

he gutter time after time. Pulling ourselves together, we managed to slide past some Indian transport without being kicked by the mules, who, whenever they smelt petrol, developed a strong offensive. Then we came upon a big gun, discreetly covered by tarpaulins. It was draw

of certain safety where it cannot possibly be knocked over, and then move it another fifty yards from the road. It is impos

despatch rider said-it makes all the difference on grease which side of your mouth you put your pipe in. We reached Hazebrouck at midday

ed kidneys, and roast veal with potatoes and leeks, fruit, cheese, and good red wine. So little was the charge that one of us offered to pa

Divisional Headquarters were established at the House of the Spy. The owner of the house had been well treated

GUETIGE

se had been searched by an indignant populace, Ge

ily doing everything in its power to avoid the effusive affection of the Teuton, breaking all its own crockery, and stealing all its own silver, defiling its beds and tearing its clothing. For the man whose goods have been spared by the German becomes an outcast. He lives in a state worse than death.

uzzing in the languorous heat. We bathed ourselve

to drive the captured car. We took him to the tavern where bea

to speak. Then, pulling ourselves together, we stammered out an order for beer, but the girl only smiled. They were empty bottles, souvenirs left by some rascally A.S.C. for the eternal temptation of all who might pass throug

at height. All the youngsters in the village tumbled o

r-buses we had seen out in Flanders. They cheered us greatly, and after some drinks we sat in one and tried to learn from the map something of the new country in which we were to ride. We rejoiced that we

er since the night after Le Cateau infantry in column of route have fasc

column pass for an hour, and in it there was no organised unit larger than a platoon, and only one platoon. How it happened I do not know, but, when we turned on the Germans, battalions, brigades, divisions,

miling vaguely to themselves, some looking raptly straight

burden of their kit, and behind all come those who have fallen out by the way-men dragging themselves along behind a waggon, white-faced men with uneasy smiles on top of the waggons. A little farther back those who are trying to

d were hearing the sound of the guns. They were the finest lot of men I have ever seen on the march. Gusts of great laughter were running through them. In the eyes of one or two were tears. And I told those civ

efore-that is, all except N'Soon, who had by this time discovered that continual riding on bad roads is apt to produce a fundamental soreness. N'Soon hung on nobly, but was at last sent away with blood-poisonin

with a message to the C.R.A.[24] at Neuve Eglise. I had

ch two or three batteries, carefully concealed, were blazing away. To the north shrapnel was bursting over Kemmel. In front the Messines ridge was almost hidden with the smoke of o

not dare deviate an inch from the centre of the road for fear of slipping into the mire, motor ambulances, every kind of transport, and some infantry battalions. After following a column of motor-lorries a couple of miles-we stuck twice in trying to get past the rearmost lorry-we tried the road by Dranoutre and Locre. But these country lanes were worse of surface than the main road-greasy pavé is better that greasy rocks-and they were filled with od

then been badly knocked about, I learnt where to go. Ypres was the first half-evacuated town I had entered. It was like motor-cycling into a village from Oxford very early on

or a beefsteak. The landlord's daughter talked of the many difficulties before us, and doubted of our success. I said, grandi

o roses with

ld last. I replied that the good

the miseries of his people? Are not the flower o

ch across the way, and said

, dark and fresh-coloured, with large black eyes set too closely. Like all the Flemings, she

e to the ditch when some cuirassiers galloped out of the fog straight at me. It was all four French soldiers could do to get my motor-cycle out. Another tim

ved north. I arrived at Rue de Paradis just as the Brigade Headquarters were coming into the village. So, while everybody else was fixing wires and generally making themselves useful, I rushed upsta

e of the house nearest to the Germans. It was constructed almost entirely of glass. Upon this the men commented with a grave fluency. The windows rattled with shrapnel bursting 600 yards away. The house was jarred through

was going to move nearer the trenches, that one of us woul

he Staff took refuge in dug-outs that had been made in case of need. Tommy, then attached, took refuge in the cellar. According to his own accou

eul, Divisional Headquar

mulated. It is difficult enough to pass lorries on a greasy road at any time. With an immense weight on the carrier it is almost impossible. So we determined to go by Dranoutre. An unfortunate bump dis

road supplied us with a sack of miscellaneous vegetables-potatoes, carrots, turnips, onions, leeks-for practically nothing. We lived gloriously. There was just enough work to make us feel we really were

of us were so sore that the touch of a motor-cycle saddle on pavé was like hot-iron to a tender skin. Then we were handed over to a friendly sergeant, who believed in more

e arduous and dangerous than any despatch riding. If you "pay out" too quickly, you get tangled up in the wire and go with it nicely over the drum. If you pay out too slowly, you str

le in my life than I was after two miles. Only hot coffee and singing good songs past cheery Piou-pious brought me home. The snowy day I ran with ladders, and, perch

t in a branch or in the eaves of a house, taking the strain of a cable to prevent man and ladder and wire coming on top of you, when the man who pays out has forgotten to pay. Have a thought for the wretched fello

At the time the Germans were shelling the hill, but occasionally they woul

heavily shelled Kemmel there were great holes, trees thrown about and riven and scarred and crushed-a terrific immensity of blasphemous eff

burst, and the other, shrapnel, had exploded in the earth. The owner came out, a trifling, wizened old man in the usual Belgian cap and blue

a noise, which we took to be a laugh, and told us that he had been very frightened in his little house (h?usling), and his cat, an immense white Tom, had been more frightened

eroic efforts, is a sort of perpetual epithet. The children use it confidingly when they run to our men in the cafés. The peasants use i

ren, with their hens and pigs. At first they were angry and sorrowful; but nobody, not even the most indignant refugee, could re

at were not with them. Perhaps they still liv

the theatre or stroll across to dinner and Bridge with Gibson a

nd of an evening all the kit would be moved aside. One of the military policemen could play anything;

eave the Signallers thrilled and silent. The lights flashed up, and "Spot" darted off on some catchy doggerel of an almost talented obscenity. In private life Spot was the best company imaginable. He could not talk for a minute without throwing in a bit of a recitation and

gentlemanly culture. Sometimes a chauffeur or an H.Q. clerk w

mith, old man,' I said to 'im, 'you can't do it. You're not born to it nor bred t

anybody if only he chose. To the poshy alone was Spot unkind. He was a generous, warm-hearted little man, with real wisdom and a fine appreciation of men and things.... There were other performe

d two angelic nuns. Luckily for them, they only understood a slow and grammatical English, an

nd two battalions of the 13th were fighting crazily at Ypres, the 14th had come u

city I was nearly blown off my bicycle by the fire of a concealed battery of 75's. The houses at the point where the Rue de Li

nd 20 yards off the road. It makes a curiously low droning sound as it falls, like the groan of a vastly sorrowful soul in hell,-s

e, and started tramping back to H.Q. by the light of my pocket flash-lamp. It was a pitch-black night. I was furiously hungry, and stopped at the first inn and gorged coffee with rum, and a large sandwich of bread and butter and fat bacon. I had barely started again-it had begun to pour

ngly near. The noise in Ypres was terrific. At my destination I came across some prisoners of

s unequalled opportunities for finding out the opinions and spirit of the men. Now one of us went to Ypres every day and stopped for a few minutes to discuss the state of affairs with other despatch riders and with signal-sergeants. Right through the battle we were conf

at leisure, he rode along the Menin road to the Chateau at Hooge, the headquarters of the 15th Brigade. He came back quietly happy, telling us that he had ha

ur that we should be granted leave. We existed in restless excitement until the 27th. On that great day w

hardly noticed that our billet was confined and uncomfortable. Certainly we never realised that we should stop

going to be. When we returned in the beginning of December we were Martians. For three months we had been vividly soldiers. We had been fighting not in a savage country, but in a civilised country burnt by war; and it was because of this that the sights of wa

rk, which gave us too much time to think. There was also a crazy doubt of the others' return. They were due back a few

rom the Third Division, and then another from the Corps. At last we heard the purr of three engines together, and then a moment later the faint rustle of others in the distance. We recognised the engines and jumped up. All the bird

ng. None of us could talk much for the excitement. We just wandered about greeting friends. I met again that stoutest of warriors, Mr Potter of the 15th Artillery Brigade, a friend of Festubert days. Then a bat

eace. He left the other buses and swung along rapidly by himself. He slowed down for nothing. Just before Hazebrouck we caught up a French convoy. I do not quite know what happened. The Frenchmen took cover in one ditch. We swayed past, half in the other, at a good round pace. Waggo

ame to St Omer it was quite light. All the soldiers in the town looked amateurish. We could not make out what was the matter with them, until somebody no

I came to it I saw little, because I arrived in

shells, and I don't mind their machine-guns, but their Minenwerfer are the frozen limit!-I suppose there's no chance of our missing the boat. Yes, it was a pretty fair scrap-S

em. Lurching and skidding and toiling we came to the top of the hill above Boulogne. With screaming brakes we rattled down to the harbour. That ol

otter, the bravest of men, grew greene

rk line on

ed our field-glasses and looked through t

, I suppose. Wouldn't fight for dirty old Dover! Wonder if they still charge you a penny for each sardine. I suppose we'll h

he white feat

give it you. Why, you wouldn'

who isn't dirty and ca

ed ashore and shook ourselves for delight. There was a policeman, a postman. Who

her dress, her cultivated talk. We almost squabbled about what drinks we should have first. Finally, we divided into parties

t. Quite disregarding the order to lower the blinds, we gazed from the bridge at a darkened London and the searchlight beams. Feverishly we packed our kit and stood up in the carria

ere he is! There's

be put on. But here the few men in khaki sprinkled about the streets had their buttons cleaned and not a thing was out of place. We wondered which of them belonged to the New Armies. The women, too, were clean and beautiful. This sounds perhaps to you a foolish thing to say, but it is true. The Flemish woman is not so clean as she is painted

yes. We had never been to a village through which the Germans had not passed. Portly and hilarious the Teuton may have shown himself-kindly and well-behaved

ourse of operations. They might burn for their country's success, and flame out against those who threatened her. They might suffer torments of anxiety for a brother in danger, or the tortures of

orm and march gravely or gaily to the trenches. In Flanders a man who is fit and wears no uniform is instantly suspected of espionage. I am grinding no axe. I am advocating nothing or attacking nothing. I am merely stating as a fact th

the week was up unrest troubled us. The Division might go violently into action. The Germans might break through. The "old Di

s, reading the second volume of 'Sinister Street,' and sleeping. At St Omer our craving for an omelette nearly lost us the bus. Then

rown

ly, "what the de

a few miles from here. I've got

moment. He disturbed everybody co

p. Their gig was waiting, and climbing into it we drove furiously to St Jans Cappel. Making some