Over There | Page 9

scene swinging a cane.
It was natural that after this we should visit some auto-cannons
expressly constructed for bringing down aeroplanes. In front of these
marvels it was suggested to us that we should neither take photographs
nor write down exact descriptions. As regards the latter, the Staff
officers had reason to be reassured. No living journalist could have
reproduced the scientific account of the sighting arrangements given to
us in an esoteric yet quite comprehensible language by the high priest
of these guns, who was a middle-aged artillery Captain. It lasted about
twenty minutes. It was complete, final, unchallengeable. At intervals
the artillery Captain himself admitted that such-and-such a part of the
device was tres beau. It was. There was only one word of which I could
not grasp the significance in that connection. It recurred. Several times
I determined to ask the Captain what he meant us to understand by that
word; but I lacked moral courage. I doubt whether in all the lethal
apparatus that I saw in France I saw anything quite equal to the
demoniac ingenuity of these massive guns. The proof of guns is in the
shooting. These guns do not merely aim at Taubes: they hit them.
I will not, however, derogate from the importance of the illustrious
"seventy-five." We saw one of these on an afternoon of much marching
up and down hills and among woods, gazing at horses and hot-water
douches, baths, and barbers' shops, and deep dug- outs called
"Tipperary," and guns of various calibre, including the "seventy-five."
The "seventy-five" is a very sympathetic creature, in blue-grey with
metallic glints. He is perfectly easy to see when you approach him from

behind, but get twenty yards in front of him and he is absolutely
undiscoverable. Viewed from the sky, he is part of the forest. Viewed
from behind, he is perceived to be in a wooden hut with rafters, in
which you can just stand upright. We beheld the working of the gun, by
two men, and we beheld the different sorts of shell in their delved
compartments. But this was not enough for us. We ventured to suggest
that it would be proper to try to kill a few Germans for our amusement.
The request was instantly granted.
"Time for 4,300 metres," said the Lieutenant quickly and sternly, and a
soldier manipulated the obus.
It was done. It was done with disconcerting rapidity. The shell was put
into its place. A soldier pulled a string. Bang! A neat, clean, not too
loud bang! The messenger had gone invisibly forth. The prettiest part
of the affair was the recoil and automatic swinging back of the gun.
Lest the first shell should have failed in its mission, the Commandant
ordered a second one to be sent, and this time the two artillerymen sat
in seats attached on either side to the gun itself. The "seventy-five" was
enthusiastically praised by every officer present. He is beloved like a
favourite sporting dog, and with cause.
At the side of the village street there was a bit of sharply sloping
ground, with a ladder thrown on it to make descent easier. "This way,"
said one of the officers.
We followed him, and in an instant were in the communication trench.
The change was magical in its quickness. At one moment we were on
the earth; at the next we were in it. The trench was so narrow that I had
to hold my stick in front of me, as there was no room to swing the arms;
the chalky sides left traces on the elbows. The floor was for the most
part quite dry, but at intervals there were muddy pools nearly
ankle-deep. The top of the trench was about level with the top of my
head, and long grasses or chance cereals, bending down, continually
brushed the face. An officer was uplifted for the rest of the day by
finding a four-leaved clover at the edge of the trench. The day was
warm, and the trench was still warmer. Its direction never ceased to
change, generally in curves, but now and then by a sharp corner. We

walked what seemed to be an immense distance, and then came out on
to a road, which we were instructed to cross two by two, as, like the
whole of the region, it was subject to German artillery. Far down this
road we could see the outlying village for which we were bound. . . .
A new descent into the earth. We proceed a few yards, and the trench
suddenly divides into three. We do not know which to take. An officer
following us does not know which to take. The guiding officer is
perhaps thirty yards in front! We call. No answer. We climb out of