Front Lines

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Boyd Cable. Front Lines

FOREWORD

I. TRENCH-MADE ART

II. THE SUICIDE CLUB

III. IN THE WOOD

IV. THE DIVING TANK

V. IN THE MIST

VI. SEEING RED

VII. AN AIR BARRAGE

VIII. NIGHTMARE

IX. THE GILDED STAFF. A TALE OF THE OLD CONTEMPTIBLES

X. A RAID

XI. A ROARING TRADE

XII. HOME

XIII. BRING UP THE GUNS

XIV. OUR BATTERY’S PRISONER

XV. OUR TURN

XVI. ACCORDING TO PLAN

XVII. DOWN IN HUNLAND

XVIII. THE FINAL OBJECTIVE

XIX. ARTILLERY PREPARATION

XX. STRETCHER-BEARERS

XXI. THE CONQUERORS

FOOTNOTES:

Отрывок из книги

By the very nature of their job the R.A.M.C. men in the Field Ambulances have at intervals a good deal of spare time on their hands. The personnel has to be kept at a strength which will allow of the smooth and rapid handling of the pouring stream of casualties which floods back from the firing line when a big action is on; and when a period of inactivity comes in front the stream drops to a trickle that doesn’t give the field ambulances “enough work to keep themselves warm.”

It was in one of these slack periods that Corporal Richard, of the Oughth London Field Ambulance, resumed the pleasurable occupation of his civilian days, to his own great satisfaction and the enormous interest of his comrades. Richard in pre-war days had been a sculptor, and the chance discovery near the ambulance camp of a stream where a very fair substitute for modelling clay could be had led him to experiments and a series of portrait modellings. He had no lack of models. Every other man in his squad was most willing to be “took,” and would sit with most praiseworthy patience for as long as required, and for a time Richard revelled in the luxury of unlimited (and free-of-cost) models and in turning out portraits and caricatures in clay. He worked with such speed, apparent ease, and complete success that before long he had half the men endeavouring to imitate his artistic activities.

.....

“We used to carve things out o’ chalk stone in my lot,” went on Copple, and explained how the shell splinter had been stopped by the elephant in his pocket. The

Sister was immensely interested and a good deal amused, and laughed – rather immoderately and in the wrong place, as Copple thought when he described his coffin masterpiece with the name-plate bearing his own name, and the dodge of starting on the elephant with a trunk at each end.

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