On the Fringe of the Great Fight | Page 7

do me dooty. But Doc, it's gettin' me goat. I
feel like cutting me bl---- throat. I 'ave 'ad thirteen years in the awmy
and 'ave me good conduc stripes. I 'ave a wife and two kids at 'ome. I
didn't come over 'ere to drown; I came over to fight. I wants to do me
work but I cawnt do it. If you don't give me somethink Doc I am afraid
I'll cut me bloody throat and I don't want to die. Cawn't you give me
somethink to buck me up, Doc please?"
The Doc did give him something, and between that and a little
judicious "jollying" Kipple was a different man in a few days.
Of course there was trouble. The contingent was going through a rough
experience, and to most of us Salisbury Plain was becoming a
nightmare. A fairly large number of the men were given leave, and an
equally large number took French leave. The latter migrated in large
numbers to the little villages around the outskirts of the plain where
they settled down to a few days' comfort before they were rounded up
by the military police.
Some went to London, and, worshipping at the shrines of Venus and
Bacchus, forgot about the war, and tarried in the fascinating metropolis.
Others sought a few hours' respite and forgetfulness in the town of
Salisbury, where they hobnobbed with their British confreres and
treated them to various drinks. At times the British Tommy, stung at
the flaunting of pound notes where he had only shillings, smote his
colonial brother, and bloody battles resulted in consequence thereof.
[Illustration: MECHANICAL TRANSPORTS IN SALISBURY
FLOODS.]
It was a curious fact that it was the Englishman who had gone out to
Canada a few years before and now returned as a Canadian, who was

the chief offender in this respect. He had gained a new airiness and
sense of freedom which he was proud of, and it brought him into
trouble. My own chauffeur, an Englishman, was the invariable
champion of all American cars as compared with English cars, which
he delighted in saying were from three to four years behind the times.
This same man four years before had been working on automobiles in
London, where he was born.
At one stage it looked as if the force was undergoing a process of
decomposition, and would disintegrate. The morale of the men under
the very depressing conditions which existed, had almost gone and they
did not care what happened them. Privates, perhaps college men or
wealthy business men in Canada, frankly said when arrested, that they
were quite willing to pay the price, but that they had determined to get
warm and dry once more before they were drowned in the mud. It is an
easy matter to handle a few cases of this sort, but when you get
hundreds of them little can be done, and threats, fines and punishments
were of little avail in correcting the existing state of affairs.
As a matter of fact, under the conditions the military authorities were
hard put to it to control the situation. Each night the motor lorries
returned loaded with men under arrest, and each day an equally large
number left the camp to undergo the same experience.
All the time the wastage went on. One soldier fell off a cart and
fractured his skull; another had his legs amputated by a lorry; a third
was accidently shot, and another committed suicide. It is astonishing
how many accidents can occur among 30,000 men.
New huts were being built at Larkhill, near the ancient Phoenician
remains called Stonehenge, but the progress made was so slow that
finally our men were put on the job, and the huts began to go up like
mushrooms. Hundreds of Canadians, belonging to Highland and other
regiments, built roads, huts, and other works, in a country apparently
filled with labouring men with no intention of ever going to war, and
who, in fact, often did not believe that there was a war. We all felt
somewhat relieved one night when we heard that the German fleet was
bombarding the English coast, hoping that it would shake the country

out of its feeling of smug self-complacency and lethargy.
On November 20th, there were 150 men in our hospital at Bulford
Manor; three weeks later there were 780. It had rained every day in the
interval, and there was a great deal of influenza and bronchial troubles,
which made splendid foundation for attacks of other diseases.
Towards the end of the year the men began to move into the new huts
at Larkhill. We had already officially forecasted in black and white,
that the huts, being raised from the ground, would be colder to sleep in,
and whereas there