One Young Man | Page 6

and we learn
them at night; it makes all the difference to the marching. One of the
songs is:--
"Oh, Mother is the leader of society, and You can see her name is in the
papers every day. She was presented at the court For fighting Mrs.
Short Down our way.
"Not an exactly edifying song, but it goes with a swing. I can hardly
keep my eyes open as I write this."
On the whole and considering everything--a wide phrase covering
many things unspoken--Sydney Baxter enjoyed his camp life, but
Christmas was certainly a hardship. He writes:
Christmas Day, 1914.
"All day yesterday I was on fatigue work, and did not finish until 7.30
to 8. We started the morning by building a hedge with bushes gathered
from the Heath, and then we unloaded trucks of hay and straw and built
them in a stack. I got several stray pieces down my neck. After that we
had to unload a traction load of coal in one-cwt. sacks, and oh, they
were dirty and awkward too. We had sacks over our heads like ordinary
coalmen, and you ought to have seen our hands and faces when we had
finished. We could not get any tea, as we were expecting three more
trolleys. After about two hours the trolleys came, and we unloaded
some meat; it took three of us to lift some of the pieces. Then after that
bacon, oats, tea, jam, and about 1,000 loaves of bread. We were proper
Jacks-of-all-trades and were thoroughly tired out.
"This seems a funny sort of Christmas Day, but it will be all right after
five o'clock. Of course I'd rather be in London and see you all. Still, all
the same I'm rather enjoying myself this afternoon. I have a big box of
chocs. by the side of me, and they are gradually diminishing. And now
I feel in a better mood."

The Y.M., as it is now always called by the men at and from the front,
played a very important part, an invaluable part, in Sydney Baxter's
camp life. He writes:
"We were about twenty minutes' walk from the village, and at first
there was absolutely nothing there to go down for, and we seemed
doomed to a very uncomfortable winter. However, the words of a
well-known war song, 'Every cloud is silver lined,' are very true. Our
cloud was soon brightly lined by the Y.M. people, who discovered the
best way to do it in no time. A hall was acquired in the village for the
sale of tea and eatables, and for facilitating writing and reading for the
troops in camp. It was staffed by ladies in the locality and was a real
Godsend to us all. Picture us from 6.30 a.m. to 4 p.m. on and off parade,
in a muddy camp, without even a semblance of a canteen or writing-hut,
always within sound of the bugle with its ever-recurring call for
Orderly Sergeants, tired out and wet through and inwardly chafing at
the unaccustomed discipline. Our spirits were on a par with
Bairnsfather's 'Fed-up one.' At the last note of 'the Retreat' we were free.
Without the Y.M. touch we should have had to stay in our bleak huts,
constantly reminded of our surroundings and discomforts. But these
Y.M. people had provided a comfortable, well-lighted, and, above all,
warm room, with plenty of books and papers and any amount of grub
and unlimited tea to wash it down. Isn't it wonderful how many sorrows
the British army can drown in a cup of tea?
"Apparently there's no need to tell the Y.M. people to 'get a move on,'
for before two months had elapsed they installed in the very centre of
the camp a large canteen, with a reading and writing room. It made a
big difference to us, as we had the advantage of procuring a midday
cup of tea, coffee, or cocoa, and such luxuries as biscuits and chocolate,
also an evening's enjoyment, without the weary trudge to and from the
village. As the vaccinations and inoculations were in progress at that
time, the warm room was a blessing and eased the wearisome day
which would have had to be spent in camp. More and more huts were
erected, and more and more men occupied them; so a very large new
Y.M. hut was quickly built near the camps and was opened in state,
some fifty of us forming a Guard of Honour. It was a splendid

building--its greatest attraction the billiard tables. Night after night we
waited our turn for a game. At the long counter were a library and post
office; the latter was most useful, for a letter could be written and
posted without any delay whatever. Refreshments were, as usual,
obtained at