CHAPTERIII

chapteriii

themenremainedinthetrenches,andsufferedhorribly.ihavetoldaboutliceandratsandmine-shaftsthere.anothermiserycametotorturesoldiersintheline,anditwascalled“trench-foot.”manymenstandinginslimefordaysandnightsinfieldbootsorputteeslostallsenseoffeelingintheirfeet.thesefeetoftheirs,socoldandwet,begantoswell,andthentogo“dead,”andthensuddenlytoburnasthoughtouchedbyred-hotpokers.whenthe“reliefs”wentupscoresofmencouldnotwalkbackfromthetrenches,buthadtocrawl,orbecarriedpick-a-backbytheircomrades,tothefielddressingstations.soisawhundredsofthem,and,asthewinteredon,thousands.themedicalofficerscutofftheirbootsandtheirputtees,andthesocksthathadbecomepartoftheirskins,exposingblackenedandrottingfeet.theyputoilonthem,andwrappedthemroundwithcotton-wool,andtiedlabelstotheirtunicswiththenameofthatnewdisease—“trench-foot.”thosemedicalofficerslookedseriousasthenumberofcasesincreased.

“thisisgettingbeyondajoke,”theysaid.“itispullingdownthebattalionstrengthworsethanwounds.”

brigadiersanddivisionalgeneralsweregloomy,andcursedthenewafflictionoftheirmen.someofthemsaiditwasduetodamnedcarelessness,otherswereinclinedtothinkitduetodeliberatemalingeringatatimewhenthereweremanycasesofself-inflictedwoundsbymenwhoshottheirfingersaway,ortheirtoes,togetoutofthetrenches.

therewasnolookofmalingeringonthefacesofthoseboyswhowerebeingcarriedpick-a-backtotheambulance-trainsatremysiding,nearpoperinghe,withbothfeetcrippledandtiedupinbundlesofcotton-wool.thepainwasmartyrizing,likethatofmentiedtoburningfagotsforconscience'sake.inonebattalionofthe49th(westriding)divisiontherewereoverfourhundredcasesinthatwinterof'15.otherbattalionsintheypressalientsufferedasmuch.

itwasnotuntiltheendofthewinter,whenoilwastakenuptothetrenchesandrubbingdrillwasordered,twoorthreetimesaday,thatthemaladyoftrench-footwasreduced,andatlastalmosteliminated.

thespiritofthemenfoughtagainstallthatmisery,resistedit,andwouldnotbebeatenbyit.

asergeantofthewestridingdivisionwasbadlywoundedashestoodthigh-highinwater.abomboratrench-mortarsmashedoneofhislegsintoapulpofbloodyfleshandsplinteredbone.wordwaspasseddowntothefieldambulance,andasurgeoncameup,splashedtotheneckinmud,withhisinstrumentsheldhigh.theoperationwasdoneinthewater,redwiththebloodofthewoundedman,whowasthenbroughtdown,lessaleg,tothefieldhospital.hewasputononesideasamanabouttodie...butthateveninghechatteredcheerfully,jokedwiththepriestwhocametoanointhim,andwrotealettertohiswife.

“ihopethiswillfindyouinthepink,asitleavesme,”hebegan.hementionedthathehadhadan“accident”whichhadtakenoneofhislegsaway.“buttheyoungsterswillliketoplaywithmywoodenpeg,”hewrote,anddiscussedthejokeofit.thepeopleroundhisbedmarveledathim,thoughdayafterdaytheysawgreatcourage;suchcourageasthatofanothermanwhowasbroughtinmortallywoundedandlaynexttoacomradeontheoperatingtable.

“stickit,lad!”hesaid,“stickit!”andturnedhisheadalittletolookathisfriend.

manyofourcampswerehardlybetterthanthetrenches.onlybyduck-boardscouldonewalkaboutthemorassinwhichhutswerebuiltandtentswerepitched.inthewagonlinesgunnerstriedinvaintogroomtheirhorses,andflounderedaboutintheirgumboots,cursingthemudwhichedbitsandchainsandbridles,andcouldfindnocomfortanywherebetweendickebuschandlocre.