CHAPTERXVI

chapterxvi

atthebeginningofmarchtherewasalittleaffair—costingalotoflives—intheneighborhoodofst.-eloi,upintheypressalient.itwasaleforadirtyhillockcalledthebluff,whichhadbeenheldforalongtimebythe3ddivisionundergeneralhaldane,whosemenwereatlastrelieved,afterwearymonthsinthesalient,bythe17thdivisioncommandedbygeneralpilcher.thegermanstookadvantageofthechangeindefensebyasuddenattackaftertheexplosionofamine,andthemenofthe17thdivision,newtothisground,abandonedapositionofsomelocalimportance.

generalhaldanewasannoyed.itwasgroundofwhichhekneweveryinch.itwasgroundwhichmenofhishaddiedtohold.itwasveryannoying—usingafeebleword—tobattalionofficersandmenofthe3ddivision—suffolksandking'sownliverpools,gordonsandroyalscots—whohadfirstcomeoutofthesalient,outofitsmudandsnowandslushandshell-fire,toaprettyvillagefarbehindthelines,ontheroadtocalais,wheretheyweregettingbacktoasenseofnormallifeagain.sleepinginsnugbillets,warmingtheirfeetatwoodfires,listeningwithenchantmenttothesilenceaboutthem,freefromthenoiseofartillery.theywereingthemselveswiththethoughtofamonthofthis...thenbecausetheyhadbeeninthesalientsolongandhadheldthislinesostubbornly,theywereorderedbackagaintorecapturethepositionlostbynewmen.

afteradayoffieldsportstheywerehavingaboxing—matchinanoldbarn,verymerryandbright,beforethatnewscametothem.generalhaldanehadgivenmeaquietwordaboutit,andiwatchedtheboxing,andthefacesofallthosemen,crowdedroundthering,withpityforthefrightfuldisappointmentthatwasabouttofallonthem,likeasledge-hammer.iknewsomeoftheirofficers—coloneldysonoftheroyalscots,andcaptainheathcote,whohatedthewarandallitswayswithadeadlyhatred,havingseenmuchslaughterofmenandoftheirownofficers.coloneldysonwastheseventeenthcommandingofficerofhisbattalion,whichhadbeencommandedbyeveryofficerdowntosecondlieutenant,andhadonlythirtymenleftoftheoriginalcrowd.theyhadbeenslaininlargenumbersinthat“holdingattack”byhoogeonseptember25th,duringthebattleofloos,asihavetold.nowtheywere“goingin”again,andwereverysorryforthemselves,buthidtheirfeelingsfromtheirmen.themenweretoughandstalwartlads,tannedbythewindandrainofafoulwinter,thinneddownbytheordealofthosemonthsinthelineunderdailyboutsoffire.inawoodengalleryofthebarnamassofthemlayindeepstraw,exchangingcaps,whistling,shouting,inhighspirits.notyetdidtheyknowthecall-backtothesalient.thenwordwaspassedtothemaftertheboxingfinals.thatnighttheyhadtomarchsevenmilestoentrainfortherailroadnearesttoypres.isawthemmarchaway,silently,grimly,bravely,withoutmanycurses.

theyweretorecapturethebluff,andearlyonthemorningofmarch2d,beforedawnhadrisen,iwentouttothesalientandwatchedthebombardmentwhichprecededtheattack.therewasanincessanttumultofguns,andthenoiserolledinwavesacrosstheflatcountryofthesalientandechoedbackfromkemmelhillandthewytschaeteridge.therewasawhitefrostoverthefields,andallthebattle-frontwasveiledbyamistwhichclungroundthevillagesandfarmsteadsbehindthelinesandmadeadensebankofgrayfogbelowtherisingground.

thiscurtainwasrentwithflashesoflightandlittleglintingstarsburstcontinuallyoveronespot,wherethebluffwashiddenbeyondzillebekelake.whendaybreakcame,withtherimofaredsunoveraclumpoftreesintheeast,thenoiseofgunsincreasedinspasmsofintensitylikearisingstorm.manybatteriesofheavyartillerywerefiringsalvos.field-guns,widelyscattered,concentratedtheirfireupononearea,wheretheirshellswereburstingwithatwinkleoflight.somewhereamachine-gunwasatworkwithsharp,atostrokes,likeanurgentknockingatthedoor.highoverheadwasthesongofanairplanecomingnearer,withahigh,vibranthumming.itwasanenemysearchingthroughthemistdownbelowhimforanymovementoftroopsortrains.

itwasthe76thbrigadeofthe3ddivisionwhichattackedatfourthirty-twothatmorning,andtheywerethesuffolks,gordons,andking'sownliverpoolswholedtheassault,commandedbygeneralpratt.theyflungthemselvesintothegermanlinesinthewakeofaheavybarragefire,smashingthroughbrokenbeltsofwireandstumblinginandoutofshell-craters.thegermans,intheirfront-lines,hadgonetocoverindeepdugoutswhichtheyhadbuiltwithfeverishhasteonthebluffanditsneighborhoodduringtheprevioustendaysandnights.atfirstonlyafewmen,notmorethanahundredorso,couldbediscoveredalive.thedeadwerethickinthemazeoftrenches,andourmenstumbledacrossthem.

thelivingwereinaworsestatethanthedead,dazedbytheshell-fire,andcoldwithterrorwhenourmensprangupontheminthedarknessbeforedawn.smallpartieswerecollectedandpassedbackasprisoners—marvelouslyluckymeniftheykepttheirsanityaswellastheirlivesafterallthathellaboutthem.hourslater,whenourbattalionshadstormedtheirwayupothertrenchesintoasalientjuttingoutofthegermanlineandbeyondtheboundaryoftheobjectivethathadbeengiventothem,otherlivingmenwerefoundtobestillhidinginthedepthsofotherdugoutsandcouldnotbeinducedtocomeout.terrorkepttheminthoseholes,andtheywerelikewildbeastsatbay,stilldangerousbecausetheyhadtheirbombsandrifles.anultimatumwasshouteddowntothembymentoobusyforpersuasivetalk.“ifyoudon'tcomeoutyou'llbeblownin.”someofthemcameoutandotherswereblowntobits.afterthattheusualthinghappened,thethingthatinevitablyhappenedinalltheselittlemurderousattacksandcounter-attacks.theenemyconcentratedallitspowerofartilleryonthatpositioncapturedbyourmen,anddayafterdayhurledoverstormsofshrapnelandhighexplosives,underwhichourmencowereduntilmanywerekilledandmorewounded.thefirstattackonthebluffanditsrecapturecostusthreethousandcasualties,andthatwasonlythebeginningofadailytolloflifeandlimbsinthatneighborhoodofhell.throughdrivingsnowstormsshellswentrushingacrossthatbattleground,ceaselesslyinthosefirstweeksofmarch,butthe3ddivisionrepulsedtheenemy'srepeatedattacksinbombingfightswhichwereveryfierceonbothsides.

iwenttogeneralpilcher'sheadquartersatreninghelstonmarch4th,andfoundthestaffofthe17thdivisionfrostyintheirgreeting,whilegeneralpratt,thebrigadierofthe3ddivision,wasconductingtheattackintheirnewterritory.generalpilcherhimselfwasmuchshaken.theoldgentlemanhadbeenatst.-eloiwhenthebombardmenthadbegunonhismen.withcaptainrattnaghisa.d.c.helayforanhourinaditchwithshellsscreamingoverheadandburstingclose.morethanoncewhenitalkedwithhimheraisedhisheadandlistenednervouslyandsaid:“doyouheartheguns?...theyareterrible.”

iwassorryforhim,thisgeneralwhohadmanytheoriesonwarandexperimentedinlight-signals,aswhenonenightistoodbyhissideinadarkfield,andhadacourteousold-fashioneddignityandgentlenessofmanner.hewasafineoldenglishgentlemanandagallantsoldier,butmodernwarfarewastoobrutalforhim.toobrutalforallthosewhohateditsslaughter.

thosemenofthe3ddivision—the“irondivision,”asitwascalledlaterinthewar—remainedinahideousturmoilofwetearthupbythebluffuntilothermencametorelievethemandtakeoverthiscornerofhell.

whatremainedofthetrencheswasdeepinwaterandfilthymud,wherethebodiesofmanydeadgermanslayunderalitterofbrokensand-bagsandintheholesofhalf-destroyeddugouts.nothingcouldbedonetomakeitlesshorrible.thentheweatherchangedandbecameicilycold,withsnowandrain.

onedugoutwhichhadbeentakenforbattalionheadquarterswassixfeetlongbyfourwide,andhereinthisedholelivedthreeofficersoftheroyalscotstowhomadayortwobeforeihadwished“goodluck.”

theservantslivedintheshaftalongsidewhichwasaplacemeasuringfourfeetbyfourfeet.therewerenootherdugoutswheremencouldgetanyshelterfromshellsorstorms,andtheenemy'sgunswereneversilent.

butthemenheldon,asmostofourmenheldon,witharesignationtofateandastoicendurancebeyondthatordinaryhumancouragewhichweseemedtoknowbeforethewar.

thechaplainofthisbattalionhadspentallthelongnightbehindthelines,stokingfiresandgoingroundthecook-housesandlookingathiswrist-watchtoseehowtheminuteswerecrawlingpast.hehadtea,rum,socks,oil,andfoodallreadyforthosewhowerecomingback,andthelightedbrazierswereglowingred.

attheappointedtimethepadrewentouttomeethisfriends,pressingforwardthroughthesnowandlisteningforanysoundoffootstepsthroughthegreathush.

buttherewasnosoundexceptthesoftflutterofsnowflakes.hestrainedhiseyesforanymovingshadowsofmen.buttherewasonlydarknessandthefallingsnow.

twohourspassed,andtheyseemedendlesstothatyoungchaplainwhosebrainwasfulloffrightfulapprehensions,sothattheywerehoursofanguishtohim.

thenatlastthefirstmenappeared.“i'veneverseenanythingsosplendidandsopitiful,”saidthemanwhohadbeenwaitingforthem.

theycamealongataboutamileanhour,sometimesingroups,sometimesbytwosorthrees,holdingontoeachother,oftenonebyone.inthisordertheycreptthroughtheruinedvillagesinthefallingsnow,whichlaythickuponthemassesoffallenmasonry.therewasaprofoundsilenceaboutthem,andthesesnow-coveredmenwerelikeghostswalkingthroughcitiesofdeath.

nomanspoke,forthesoundofahumanvoicewouldhaveseemedadangerinthisgreatwhitequietude.theywerewalkinglikeoldmen,weak-kneed,andbentundertheweightoftheirpacksandrifles.

yetwhentheyoungpadregreetedthemwithacheeryvoicethathidthewaterinhishearteveryonehadawordandasmileinreply,andmadelittlejestsabouttheirdrunkenfootsteps,fortheywerelikedrunkenmenwithutterweariness.

“whatpricecharliechaplinnow,sir?”wasoneman'sjoke.

thelastofthosewhocameback—andthereweremanywhonevercameback—weresomehourslaterthanthefirstcompany,havingfoundithardtocrawlalongthatviadolorosawhichledtothegoodplacewherethebrazierswereglowing.

itwasaheroicepisode,foreachoneofthesemenwasahero,thoughhisnamewillneverbeknowninthehistoryofthatsilentandhiddenwar.andyetitwasanordinaryepisode,nodegreeworseinitshardshipthanwhathappenedallalongthelinewhentherewasanattackorcounter-attackinfoulweather.

themarvelofitwasthatourmen,whowereverysimplemen,shouldhave“stuckitout”withthatgrandeurofcouragewhichenduredallthingswithoutself-interestandwithoutemotion.theywereunconsciousofthevirtuethatwasinthem.