In the Line of Battle

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Various. In the Line of Battle

INTRODUCTION

CHAPTER I. HOW TROOPER POTTS WON THE V.C. ON BURNT HILL

CHAPTER II. A PRISONER OF WAR IN GERMANY

CHAPTER III. GASSED NEAR HILL 60

CHAPTER IV. A LINESMAN IN GALLIPOLI

CHAPTER V. AN ANZAC’S ADVENTURES

CHAPTER VI “IMPERISHABLE GLORY” FOR THE KENSINGTONS

CHAPTER VII. TEN MONTHS IN THE FIGHTING-LINE

CHAPTER VIII. A GUNNER AT THE DARDANELLES

CHAPTER IX. THE “FLOOD”

CHAPTER X. THE BELGIANS’ FIGHT WITH GERMAN HOSTS

CHAPTER XI. A BLINDED PRISONER OF THE TURKS

CHAPTER XII. HOW THE “FORMIDABLE” WAS LOST

CHAPTER XIII. A TROOPER’S TALE

CHAPTER XIV. A DIARIST UNDER FIRE

CHAPTER XV. A STRETCHER-BEARER AT LOOS

CHAPTER XVI. A FUSILIER IN FRANCE

CHAPTER XVII. THE DAILY ROUND

CHAPTER XVIII. SAVING THE SOLDIER: DR. GRENFELL’S EXPERIENCE

Отрывок из книги

I saw a good deal of the Turks before we came to grips with them near Suvla Bay. I had gone out to Egypt with my regiment, the Berkshire Yeomanry, and for about four months we were doing garrison work and escort work for Turks who had been captured in Gallipoli and the Dardanelles and sent as prisoners of war to Egypt. Our place was not far from Cairo. I was greatly struck by the size and physique of the Turks. There were some very fine big men amongst them – in fact, I should think the average height was close on six feet.

We had taken our horses out to Egypt with us, and all our work in that country was done with them; but as the weeks went by, and no call came to us for active service, we became disappointed, and got into the way of singing a song which the poet of the regiment had specially composed, and of which the finish of every verse was the line —

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Night came again at last, and Andrews and myself decided to shift, if it was humanly possible to do so, because it was certain death from thirst and hunger to remain where we were, even if we escaped from bullets. So I began to move away by crawling, and Andrews followed as best he could. I would crawl a little way and wait till Andrews, poor fellow, could crawl up to me again. We wriggled like snakes, absolutely flat on the ground and with our faces buried in the stifling dirt.

We managed to wriggle about three hundred yards that night – as near as I can judge. Starting at about a quarter past six, as soon as the day was done, it was about three in the morning when we decided to rest, so that if we had really done three hundred yards we had crawled at the rate of only thirty-three yards an hour!

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