The Red Horizon

d Iron-a

stars are s

voice is whi

t when the mo

s streets w

ow they are,

running to

so far, so

y in a dif

polished blades shone into their place along the dark brown sandbags. Looking over the parados I could see the country in rear, dim in the hazy night. A white, nebulous fog lay on the ground and enveloped the lone trees that stood up behind. Here and there I could discern houses where

cold steel on the parapet, the point showing over; a

somebody whispered taking his place at m

ht flame stood motionless lighting up the ground in front, the space between the lines. Every object was visible: a tree stripped of all its branches stood bare, outlined in black; at its foot I could see the barbed wire entanglements, the wire sparkling as if burnished; further back was a ruined cottage, the bare beams and rafters giving it

it, Stoner?" I asked

think that they're over there, and th

ombstones, anyway," said Bill

for the poor b

for themselves, the

what's

as if with a hand. Moving slowly from North to South it touched all the sky, seeking for somethin

s rifle. The report died away in a hundred echoes

for them,"

you fire a

g his little potato of a nose. "That's one fo

it?" asked

t it, I fired s

the corporal. "Its only abo

blime

the first hour. I had to keep a sharp look out if an enemy's working party showed itself when the ro

hem, to disembowel them with my sword, blow their faces to pieces at three hundred yards, bomb them into eternity at a word of command. Who am I that I should do it; w

ockney, who came by whist

rooty (food) 'fore

un

d. "Give me a shake when your t

was a

il

at

believe

nd I don't,"

do you

istian business," he repli

an allow men to go killi

E can't

tarted because

ame-like a

her

, don't yer?" Bi

etim

. "There was a bird (girl) where I used to be billeted at

en in love?"

so bad

ot fallen

ate, "I used to be in 'er 'ouse

it w

it. She used to slide down the banisters, too. Yer should

for you," I said. "Have y

in it," said Bill, "it's 'ot as 'ell. But we wouldn't b

een, but he couldn't pull with us. For s

rink from 'is water bottle when your own's empty; 'e wouldn't. I wouldn't trust 'im that much." He clicke

orld, and the line of demarcation between them is sharply drawn. We all live in similar dug-outs, but we bring a new atmosphere into them. In one, full of the odour of Turkish cigarettes, the spoken English is above suspicion; in

and

y hit my head a resounding blow on the roof. The impact caused

jumping up and stumbling over Mervin, who was prese

to! Sta

ed with 150 rounds of ball cartridge and entrenching tool handle on hip. In the trenches we always sl

ed Stoner, as we s

t," I told him

azybones," he called. "Show a leg at once, and grease to your gun.

is bed and blinked

ill, are they

lot of good, you would," sai

y if he attempt to charge. Probably on the other side he waits for our coming

om the enemy's trench, hung bright in mid-air for a space, and faded away. The stretch of ground between the trenches opened up to our eyes. The ruined cottage, co

on the ground," said Stoner. "They must be co

nto the heavens warbling for some minutes, a black little spot on the grey clouds; he sang, then sank to earth again, finding a resting place amongst the dead.

houted, mimicking the Cockney accent. "You'

if I

!" said monumental Go

her," Bill replie

cer, going his rounds. "Fire through the loop-holes if

nemy's lines; a hundred yards of this front was covered by each rifle; we had o

nd-to was over. In an open space at the rear of the dug-out he fixed his b

aid, producing the meat w

here," said Stoner,

atched. Suddenly an object, about the size of a fat sausage, spun like a big, lazy bee through the air

aid Stoner, "one

the knoll into the air; a shower of dust swept over

he exclaimed, "wha

n; some of our fellows have since been killed by them; and the blue-eyed Jersey youth who was my friend at St. Albans, and who has been often spoken of in my little volume The Amateur Army, came f

he asked, co

ike a bomb!" was the sudd

But the bomb was too quick for him. Half an hour later the st

, was done to a turn. In the matter of food we generally fare well, for our boys get a great amount of

ich I find peculiar to the narrow trench, were the eternal soldiers' graves. At every turn where the parados opened to the rear they stared you in the face, the damp, clammy, black mounds of clay with white crosses over them. Always the story was the same; the rude inscription told of the same tragedy: a soldier had been killed in action on a certain date. He might have b

mess-tins of soapy water; all the boys seemed familiar with trench routine. They were deep in argument at the door of one dug-out, and almost came to blows. The row was about rations. A

them said. "Blimey, to do a thing

r carry the ro

of us not

hy didn't ye

t ye give

, the youth with the sloping shoulders. "Clear

aid one of the accusers who, stripp

of the boy who lost the loaf, as he ra

said the man who was washing, sweeping the soapsuds from his eyes and bouncing in

s the answer. "Catch me! I've los

sm. The sarcastic remark tickled the listeners, an

d their heads shrouded in Balaclava helmets. At every loop-hole a sentry stood in silent watch, his eyes rivetted on the sandbags ahead. Now and again a shot was fired, and sometimes,

d the sandbags is there, you never see anything, and you've to fire at nothin'. They call thi

t to kill m

the rejoinder, "If I don't

twelve yards liable to be covered by enfilade fire. The traverse is the home of spare ammunition, of ball cartridge, bombs, and hand-grenades. These are stored in depots dug into the wall of the trench. There are two things which find a place anywhe

y of another battalion, a

you going

r, sir,"

permission fro

, s

ade order," said the officer. "One of our men got sh

sir," I

he spot," wa

red our captain superintend

the water alre

, s

is

uldn't let us go by with

hy

us road. The captain sat down on a sandbag, took out a slip of paper (or borrowed one fro

e, and from there he had a good view of the road. We hurried along, the jars striking against our legs at every step. The water was obtained from a pump at the back of a ruined villa in a desolate village. The shrapnel shivered house

obin was killed by a Jack Johnson near the spot on a certain date. Havi

, fenced in except at our end, where a newly open grav

they'll not close in this until the graves reach

gely quieted. In its peace, in its cessation from labour, there was neither anxiety nor sadness, there remained rest, placid and sad. It seemed as if the houses, all intact at this particular spot, held somethin

ss, and the rude lettering. This was

wn Britis

ss. One of the Coldstream Guards lay there killed in action six weeks before. I turned up the black-edged enve

think we'll go back," he said, and there was a strained not

on it stood on the floor, a number of chairs in their proper position were near the wall, a clock and two photos, one of an elderly man with a heavy beard, the other of a frail, delicate woman,

the people b

"Those chairs will be useful in

ards the trenches. The sun was out, and it was now very hot. We sweated. My

ng down the jar he placed his chair in

w Omar?"

I doated on hi

the ca

ts to the moon, become pessimistic, criticise everything, and feel certain that they will

me through t

'll come throug

my feet hurriedly. "Those trenches seem quite a distance away," I said, hoisting m

ged to get back safely. Finding that our supply