Contemptible | Page 3

stagger up the long hills at the back of the town, let
alone worrying about his men. The Colonel was aghast, and very
furious. He couldn't understand it. (He was riding.)
The camp was prepared for the troops in a wonderfully complete
fashion--not the least thing seemed to have been forgotten. The men,
stripped of their boots, coats and equipments, were resting in the shade
of the tents. A caterer from Havre had come up to supply the Mess, and
the Subaltern was able to procure from him a bottle of rather heady
claret, which, as he was thirsty and exhausted, he consumed too rapidly,
and found himself hopelessly inebriate. Luckily there was nothing to do,
so he slept for many hours.
Waking up in the cool of the evening he heard the voices of another
Second-Lieutenant and a reservist Subaltern talking about some people
he knew near his home. It was good to forget about wars and soldiers,
and everything that filled so amply the present and future, and to lose
himself in pleasant talk of pleasant things at home.... The dinner
provided by the French caterer was very French, and altogether the last
sort of meal that a young gentleman suffering from anti-enteric
inoculation ought to have indulged in. Everything conspired to make
him worse, and what with the heat and the malady, he spent a very
miserable time.
After about two days' stay, the Battalion moved away from the rest
camp, and, setting out before dawn, marched back through those fatal
streets of Havre, this time deserted in the moonlight, to a sort of shed,
called by the French authorities a troop station. Here as usual the train
was waiting, and the men had but to be put in. The carriages could not

be called luxurious; to be frank, they were cattle-trucks. But it takes
more than that to damp the spirits of Mr. Thomas Atkins. Cries
imitating the lowing of cattle and the bleating of sheep broke out from
the trucks!
The train moved out of the depôt, and wended its way in the most
casual manner through the streets of Havre. This so amused Tommy
that he roared with laughter. The people who rushed to give the train a
send-off, with many cries of "Vive les Anglais," "A bas les Bosches,"
were greeted with more bleatings and brayings.
* * * * *
The journey through France was quite uneventful. Sleeping or reading
the whole day through, the Subaltern only remembered Rouen, passed
at about midday, and Amiens later in the evening. The train had paused
at numerous villages on its way, and in every case there had been
violent demonstrations of enthusiasm. In one case a young lady of
prepossessing appearance had thrust her face through the window, and
talked very excitedly and quite incomprehensibly, until one of the
fellows in the carriage grasped the situation, leant forward, and did
honour to the occasion. The damsel retired blushing.
At Amiens various rumours were afloat. Somebody had heard the
Colonel say the magic word "Liège." Pictures of battles to be fought
that very night thrilled some of them not a little.
* * * * *
Dawn found the Battalion hungry, shivering and miserable, paraded by
the side of the track, at a little wayside station called Wassigné. The
train shunted away, leaving the Battalion with a positive feeling of
desolation. A Staff Officer, rubbing sleep from his eyes, emerged from
a little "estaminet" and gave the Colonel the necessary orders. During
the march that ensued the Battalion passed through villages where the
three other regiments in the Brigade were billeted. At length a village
called Iron was reached, and their various billets were allotted to each
Company.

The Subaltern's Company settled down in a huge water-mill; its
Officers being quartered in the miller's private house.
A wash, a shave and a meal worked wonders.
And so the journey was finished, and the Battalion found itself at
length in the theatre of operations.
* * * * *
I have tried in this chapter to give some idea of the ease and
smoothness with which this delicate operation of transportation was
carried out. The Battalions which composed the First Expeditionary
Force had been spread in small groups over the whole length and
breadth of Britain. They had been mobilised, embarked, piloted across
the Channel in the face of an undefeated enemy fleet, rested, and
trained to their various areas of concentration, to take their place by the
side of their French Allies.
All this was accomplished without a single hitch, and with a speed that
was astonishing. When the time comes for the inner history of the war
to be written, no doubt proper praise for these preliminary
arrangements will be given to those who so eminently