Combed Out

newspaper has just written about an encounter with the enemy: 'Our losses were insignificant, one dead and five

wife, and how he went to the war and how, seized by the most conflicting thoughts and emotions, he felt afraid, and how it all ended in death and horror.... But they try to convi

reye

war: "What were the Germans going to do?" It was clear that they had been able to withdraw many divisions

ment that there were no extensive trench systems or fortified places behind our lines. I doubted whether the Germans would even attempt

oming of warm days banished much of our dreariness. The hazy blue sky was an object of real delight. I often contrived to slip away from my work and lean idly against a wall in

l and surrender to the charm of the spring weather. It seemed unnatural and almost uncanny that we should be happy, but there were moments when we felt so

t now it had become pleasant to tarry in the sunshine. One day, when we were lined up between two large huts, a deep Yellow Brimstone butterfly came floating idly past. It gave me inexpressible delight, a de

do without the repulsive army fare, I will dine at the St. Martin and buy a bottle of the best French wine, even if it costs me t

of long grass and leant back against a shed. The air was hot and several bees flew by. Their buzzing reminded me of summer holidays spent in southern France before the war. I thought of vineyards and orchards,

t it. I would enjoy the present. But the calm waters of happiness had been ruffled and it was beyond my power to restore their tranquillity. I began to think of many things,

walk on again, calling at remote farms to buy bread and eggs and milk. I would reach the little village, the main street winding between white houses and flooded with brilliant moonlight. I would climb the wall and drop into the familiar garden and await the morning. Then I would knock at the door and I would be welcomed by an old peasant woman, and she would ask: "Tu viens en perme?" How could I answer t

diate present-was I not losing hours of sheer pleasure by h

ield beyond, a cow was grazing peacefully. The sky seemed a deeper blue through the willow-branches. The tender green of the grass was wonderfully refreshing to the eyes. The cow

re was a rending, deafening, double thunder-clap that seemed to split my head. For a moment I was dazed

the road. Some were strolling along in leisurely fashion, some were walking with hurried steps, some were

lds, we came to a halt and waited. We waited for nearly an hour,

uld and grassy sods lay scattered all round. Here and there lay big lumps of bleeding flesh. The cow had been blown to bits. The

abandoned the yard and waited in the field. But this time there were several further shell-bursts. No dull boom in the dis

hells came over, an

many places. No damage of "military importance" had been done.

hirr of propellers, and shells whistl

luish haze. I rested and let an hour or two slip by. Then I got up and crossed a little brook and strolled along a narrow path that wound its way through a copse. The ground was starred with wood-anemones, oxlips, violets, cuckoo-flowers, and in damp places with green-golden saxifrage. I came to a small cottage that had pots of flowers in every w

mp full of suppr

ck-areas continued; air-raids became more a

sed. The Fifth Army was in full retreat. The Germans ha

y to defend the cause of the Allies, to excuse their misdeeds, to overrate their

o hatred and opposition. The enemy mob seems less detestable because it is out

and misery that are the price of every victory. They who pay the price, they alone have the right to rejoice, but they do not rejoice. The German mob revealed its depravity when it hung o

nation-defeat. A patriot, loving his own country, would therefore wish his country defeat in war. But he who has surmounted his patriotism and has attained complete impartialit

en all that is evil in the life of the nation is encouraged and justified. It is then that the diplomatists who lied and schemed to bring on the monstrous event, that all the politicians who exploit and foster the nation's madness and misery to enhance their own reputations, that those who batten on the slaughter, and that those who glorify the carnage at a safe distance and fight the enemy with their lying t

ss, and then I was thrilled by the thought that perhaps the end of the war might be near. We might not have a good peace, but peace of any kind was

grenades, bombs, bullets were rending, piercing, and shattering the living flesh and muscle and bone. Towns and villages were being turned

Germans reach the coast? If they did, then the northern armies would be cut off and destroyed. A general retr

ding round the window of the Mairie, where a written notice was exposed. An old woman dressed in b

ad arrived and saved the situation. The shelling of the

reme attempt at breaking through the Western Front? Or w

d rumble of a bombardment. We did not take much

s roar gradually gave place to irregular, though f

te-it was said that Armentières had fallen, that the Portuguese had been an

troops passed through the village. We got no definite or offic

ur anxiety deepened. There could no longer be any do

the problems of failure and success. I forgot the politicians and was conscious of only one despairing wish, that the terrible thing mi

on the whole they were normal in their behaviour. They grumbled and quarrelled much as usu

of firing

f us dragged a huge cylinder and piston along the ground. We toiled and perspired. We made a ramp of heavy wooden beams in front of the train and then we slowly pushed the iron ma

hind some trees a hundred yards away and the thunder-clap followed. A jagge

of wire, bundles of picks and shovels, sacks and barrels of nails.

ottage. Its thunder made our ears sing. The fragments o

ery, all went on to the train. Then we entered a big shed, where a number of tar-barrels stood in a row. We rolled them out and placed them by the t

the greasy stew as quickly as they could, but we were so tired and ill-tempered that we shouted abuse at them without reason and without being provoked, an

p looked like a town of windowless, wooden buildings. We formed one long file that circled slowly past the stacks, each man taking

t went to the St. Martin. It was kept by an old woman

the German advance would be held up, but they remained anxious. The uproar of the cannonade was louder than ever. All the windows of the buildi

he village and provided the best wines and coffees, so they stood in the doorway, undecided what to do. They asked one of the girls if there was a restaura

urances, one of the new

n here and have a coffe

d only a few men were sitting at the far end of it. The officers sat down at the near end and ordere

in these parts-I hear the Hu

y'll mess up my leave, i

e, bring us another two cups-der coo

you speak goot French-vous avez

ame running into the

to go 'vay at once, ve got to leave everysing-ve go 'vay and English troops

ately. Through the window we could see groups of people standing

w things in a bundle. One of the officers asked: "What about our coffee?" but

t, if they liked to take the risk, they could come back to-morro

ir household property away on the morrow. They would start another estaminet somewhere. They would suffer l

past. They looked wretched and exhausted. Their boots and puttees were caked with mud. They had neither rifles nor packs. Three men

orblimy, 'e don't 'alf wallop yer-umpteen of our mates got

ed our camp in order to beg for food. They sat

d sprung up. Blue figures were moving in an

a few minutes after, throwing up earth and smoke. A steel fragment came sailing over in a wide parabola and struck the foot of a man standing in the

he ration dump and began to load the train. A civilian arrived with the newspapers. Our N

Armentières had fallen. The news was severa

st, but we talked in groups while we carried cases of rations. Would we be involved in

h their property away. We observed that the windows, where tinned fruit, chocolate, cakes, soap, postcards, and

n. English soldiers come in de night and take everysing 'vay-ve nussing left-it's de soldiers

on to the floor. We went down into the cellar. All the cases had been opened and the stone floor was litte

all gone-ve

in to the Town Major?

ve poor now-oh, dis var, dis var-dis de second time ve refugeess-ve lose eversing 1914, ve come here from Zandvoorde and ve start again-ve do business vis soldiers, soldiers plenty money, ve do goot business, and now ve

, wiping her eyes. We said good-bye to her and her daughter, f

wing dark. The cannonade had become deafening. Over the

their arms and dragging tired, tearful children along. White-faced, sorrowful mothers were carrying peevish babies. Great wagons, loaded with furniture and bedding, and whole families sitting on top, were drawn by lank and bony horses. A little cart, with a pallid, aged woman co

. The night was full of rustling noises and sullen thunder-claps, while a more distant roarin

Soon after lights-out the Police

o-morrow morning

l calibre passed overhead with a prolonged whistle and burst with a hardly audible rep

ing, rushing, whistling, and whining, the tumult seemed all around and above us. Sudden flashes lit up the whole camp so that

acked up our belongings. Al

called, and as the day be

y months we had spent there! The westward stream of refugees had ceased, but an eastward stream of French infantry and field artillery thronged the roads. The arti

a good

ne bonne

we broke

Oh, Oh it's a

who were escaping destruction,

nt to fight

want to

er be in

d dirty

n

ar from

ike t

German

get

n

bloody wa

appy I

my civvy

oldiering

familiar to every sold

t fields and past ugly little villages. As we grew tired and f

orner. Several lorries loaded with tents were waiting for us. We u

nonade sounded faintl

hame to let the other Tom

continued to hear the sound of words for a little while, but they conv