An Onlooker in France 1917-1919 | Page 4

some place to stop in, etc. Again we were rather depressed. The
meeting was very chilly, the importance of the Major was great--the
full weight and responsibility of the war seemed on him. "The
Importance of being Ernest" wasn't in it with him. As I learnt
afterwards, when he came in late for a meal all the other officers and
Allied Press correspondents stood up. Many a time I got a black look
for not doing so. However, he advised the worst and most expensive
hotel in the town, and off we went (no dinner offered), rather depressed
and sad.
[Illustration: III. Men resting. La Boisselle.]
CHAPTER II
(p. 016)
THE SOMME (APRIL 1917)
Amiens was the one big town that could be reached easily from the
Somme front for dinner, so every night it was crowded with officers
and men who had come back in cars, motor-bikes, lorries or any old
thing in or on which they could get a lift. After dinner they would stand
near the station and hail anything passing, till they found something
that would drop them near their destination. As there was an endless
stream of traffic going out over the Albert and Péronne Roads during

that time (April 1917), it was easy.
Amiens is a dirty old town with its seven canals. The cathedral, belfry
and the theatre are, of course, wonderful, but there is little else except
the dirt.
I remember later lunching with John Sargent in Amiens, after which I
asked him if he would like to see the front of the theatre. He said he
would. When we were looking at it he said: "Yes, I suppose it is one of
the most perfect things in Europe. I've had a photograph of it hanging
over my bed for the last thirty years."
But Amiens was a danger trap for the young officer from the line, also
for the men. "Charlie's Bar" was always full of officers; mirth ran high,
also the bills for drinks--and the drink the Tommies got in the little
cafés was terrible stuff, and often doped.
Then, when darkness came on, strange women--the riff-raff from
(p. 017) Paris, the expelled from Rouen, in fact the badly diseased from
all parts of France--hovered about in the blackness with their electric
torches, and led the unknowing away to blackened side-streets and up
dim stairways--to what? Anyway, for an hour or so they were out of the
rain and mud, but afterwards? Often did I go with Freddie Fane, the
A.P.M., to these dens of filth to drag fine men away from disease.
[Illustration: IV. A Tank. Pozières.]
The wise ones dined well--if not too well--at the "Godbert," with its
Madeleine, or the "Cathedral," with its Marguerite, who was the queen
of the British Army in Picardy, or, not so expensively, at the "Hôtel de
la Paix." Some months later the club started, a well-run place. I
remember a Major who used to have his bath there once a week at 4
p.m. It was prepared for him, with a large whisky-and-soda by its side.
What more comfort could one wish? Then there were dinners at the
Allied Press, after which the Major would give a discourse amid heavy
silence; then music. The favourite song at that time was:--
"Jackie Boy! Master? Singie well? Very well. Hey down, Ho down,

Derry, Derry down, All among the leaves so green, O.
"With my Hey down, down, With my Ho down, down, Hey down, Ho
down, Derry, Derry down, All among the leaves so green, O."
Later, perhaps, if the night was fine, the Major would retire to the
(p. 018) garden and play the flute. This was a serious moment--a great
hush was felt, nobody dared to move; but he really didn't play badly.
And old Hale would tell stories which no one could understand, and de
Maratray would play ping-pong with extraordinary agility. It would all
have been great fun if people had not been killing each other so near.
Why, during that time, the Boche did not bomb Amiens, I cannot
understand, it was thick every week-end with the British Army. One
could hardly jamb oneself through the crowd in the Place Gambetta or
up the Rue des Trois Cailloux. It was a struggling mass of khaki,
bumping over the uneven cobblestones. What streets they were! I
remember walking back from dinner one night with a Major, the
agricultural expert of the Somme, and he said, "Don't you think the
pavement is very hostile to-night?"
I shall never forget my first sight of the Somme battlefields. It was
snowing fast, but the ground was not covered, and there was this
endless waste of mud, holes and water. Nothing but mud, water,
crosses and broken Tanks; miles and miles of it, horrible