Action Front

Action Front

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Title: Action Front
Author: Boyd Cable (Ernest Andrew Ewart)
Release Date: February 28, 2004 [EBook #11349]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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FRONT ***

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ACTION FRONT
BY
BOYD CABLE

1916

TO
MR. J. A. SPENDER
_to whose recognition and appreciation of my work, and to whose
instant and eager hospitality in the "Westminster Gazette" so much of
these war writings is due, this book is very gratefully dedicated by_
THE AUTHOR

FOREWORD
I make no apology for having followed in this book the same plan as in
my other one, "Between the Lines," of taking extracts from the official
despatches as "texts" and endeavoring to show something of what these
brief messages cover, because so many of my own friends, and so
many more unknown friends amongst the reviewers, expressed
themselves so pleased with the plan that I feel its repetition is justified.
There were some who complained that my last book was in parts too
grim and too terrible, and no doubt the same complaint may lie against
this one. To that I can only reply that I have found it impossible to
write with any truth of the Front without the writing being grim, and in
writing my other book I felt it would be no bad thing if Home realized
the grimness a little better.
But now there are so many at Home whose nearest and dearest are in
the trenches, and who require no telling of the horrors of the war, that I
have tried here to show there is a lighter side to war, to let them know
that we have our relaxations, and even find occasion for jests, in the
course of our business.
I believe, or at least hope, that in showing both sides of the picture I am

doing what the Front would wish me to do. And I don't ask for any
greater satisfaction than that.
BOYD CABLE.
May, 1916.

CONTENTS
IN ENEMY HANDS A BENEVOLENT NEUTRAL DRILL A
NIGHT PATROL AS OTHERS SEE THE FEAR OF FEAR
ANTI-AIRCRAFT A FRAGMENT AN OPEN TOWN THE
SIGNALERS CONSCRIPT COURAGE SMASHING THE
COUNTER-ATTACK A GENERAL ACTION AT LAST

IN ENEMY HANDS
The last conscious thought in the mind of Private Jock Macalister as he
reached the German trench was to get down into it; his next conscious
thought to get out of it. Up there on the level there were uncomfortably
many bullets, and even as he leaped on the low parapet one of these
struck the top of his forehead, ran deflecting over the crown of his head,
and away. He dropped limp as a pole-axed bullock, slid and rolled
helplessly down into the trench.
When he came to his senses he found himself huddled in a corner
against the traverse, his head smarting and a bruised elbow aching
abominably. He lifted his head and groaned, and as the mists cleared
from his dazed eyes he found himself looking into a fat and very dirty
face and the ring of a rifle muzzle about a foot from his head. The
German said something which Macalister could not understand, but
which he rightly interpreted as a command not to move. But he could
hear no sound of Scottish voices or of the uproar of hand-to-hand
fighting in the trench. When he saw the Germans duck down hastily
and squeeze close up against the wall of the trench, while overhead a

string of shells crashed angrily and the shrapnel beat down in gusts
across the trench, he diagnosed correctly that the assault had failed, and
that the British gunners were again searching the German trench with
shrapnel. His German guard said something to the other men, and while
one of them remained at the loophole and fired an occasional shot, the
others drew close to their prisoner. The first thing they did was to
search him, to turn each pocket outside-in, and when they had emptied
these, carefully feel all over his body for any concealed article.
Macalister bore it all with great philosophy, mildly satisfied that he had
no money to lose and no personal property of any value.
Their search concluded, the Germans held a short consultation, then
one of them slipped round the corner of the traverse, and, returning a
moment later, pointed the direction to Macalister and signed to him to
go.
The trench