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[Page 42]
Firing Line France (N 64)
14/4/16
Stand to arms 0400 which is too late as in this flat country dawn appears about 3.45 am. Enemy very quiet probably feeling as cold and uncomfortable as we are. The Coy headquarters dug out is a wooden room about 9' square with an iron and sandbag roof pretty low and apt to catch ones head. On each side is a rude bunk one used as bed and the other as a seat. In one corner is a small stove with a flue that sticks through the wall, this has been made out of beaten biscuit tins by someone "handy".
The old firing line was just above and in the right hand corner of the dugout now is an evil looking recess which was an old sally port. On the rear wall are a few orders stuck up above them is a shelf covered with maps and personal gear and above that is a picture of white fanged actress making a meal of a rose. Mess tins, field glasses, rockets, flairs and the other odds and ends adorn the walls. On the floor is an overdose of lovely mud and to complete a picture of absolute dreariness and discomfort is myself with greatcoat revolver & a "gorblime" cap to say nothing of the a pair of gumboots covered with filthy mud right up to the knees.
A path runs all the way along the line and a pretty continuous stream of water is abreast of that crossed at intervals by bridges. Mud is everywhere and the men splash along cursing through it, those on duty wearing the ugly but useful steel helmet. The crack of the snipers rifles and an odd bomb are the only sounds and everyone sits about huddled up to avoid the cold wind.
At 7 I went down to Jays Post with Mackay and splashed around through over 6 inches of water in places. Poked around firing line and sniping places &c during rest of morning. Very amusing to see the old Anzac dugout dwellers pottering round their own little shows and getting as snug and comfortable as old soldiers can. Just after lunch the enemy put some shells round the place about 300 yards right of Jays Post.
Went into Fleurbaix to prosecute in a Courtmartial (RQMS) and had the walk of three miles in and the same back for nothing as an adjournment was granted until tomorrow morning. Returning to the trenches met Sir William Birdwood who stopped and talked a minute or two. The wounded are brought from tramhead to our Fleurbeaux billet by wheeled stretchers.
Back in the trenches by 3.30 and commenced paying at once. Some snow fell and it got very cold but sun came out about ½ hour afterwards.
Suddenly the enemy lashed over 4 whiz bang shrapnel shells immediately followed by dead silence. All at once shrieks of agony broke out – the anguished cry of a human being, the very sound of which makes one feel so helpless & small. Poor Jordan, one of my best men and an old South African campaigner, had received a dreadful wound at Jay's Post, a big piece of shell entering his back & protruding just under his heart.
We could hear his cries right up here poor chap and the stretcher bearers went down at once. He was conscious when he left. A married man, hope he gets well.
Eight in out mess here so we work it in two sittings in case a shell should wipe us all out. After tea the Colonel gave in and gave me a telescopic periscope to try. Had a look at the enemy trenches but the light was failing.
Sniper but his bullets pretty close to it. We stood to arms at 6.50 pm in silent rain and all the men have all kinds of garb in readiness for a bad night. All wearing cap comforters turban like, heavy greatcoats and their waterproof sheet shawlwise over their shoulders. After standing to paid the company in dribs & drabs which occupied all the evening. Counting franc notes is easy being decimal denominations like Egyptian currency.
Flares sniping and machine guns rattling is the programme now – during the long twilight guns rolling down towards Armentieres & YPRES.