YPRES BOOK OF VALOUR.
The Ypres Times.
7
By means of a bribe of 50 francs he secured the use of a room and started the game
of One Up with coins peculiar (as Bret Harte would say) in possessing two heads
or two tails apiece. In two nights he made 700 francs. When his dupes discovered
the method of his trickery and made for him, he covered them with his revolver and made
good his escape with speed and the 700 francs.
A few days later the commandant of a neighbouring area rang me up on the 'phone.
I have a man sent to me as camp warden who has done five years. I want to put him
in the dug outs next to you so that I can keep an eye on him." Two days later the
warden had absconded only to be captured within the week. As he was being taken
along the village street to the cage, an A.S.C. Corporal coming out of an estaminet was
heard to say That's the blighter who is harbouring Australian deserters." £0 that
was where Broncho Bill was taking refuge. I instantly rang up the M.P. and that night
the dug-outs close to my headquarters were surrounded and our old friend and two other
ruffians were bagged and taken to the M.P. camp on the Dickebush Road.
I must confess I breathed a sigh of relief when I heard he was in safe custody. Next
morning the three prisoners were led out to the ablution bench to wash with one solitary
sentry to guard them. Bill must have been touched by such child-like confidence.
Watching his opportunity he knocked the sentry down, picked up the rifle and, the alarm
having been raised, covered his pursuers and threatened to let the light through anyone
who interfered with him.
Then, began a fine hue and cry. I was at breakfast at the time and for a moment
thought that the Bosche had breken through.
The three fugitives rushed past my office and rifles were cracking like a machine gun.
One of the three was hit in the arm and the leg on the road to Poperinghe, and a second
stuck in a muddy patch in a field and gave himself up, but Broncho Bill, who seemed to
bear a charmed life, disappeared across country, and made good his escape.
This was the last we saw of him, although I have a shrewd suspicion that a man who
turned up at my office when I was out, without papers or identity disc, was none other
than this military Dick Turpin. This time, as far as I know, he drew a blank and
departed rather hurriedly leaving his cap behind.
When I left France in 1918 he was still at large. As likely as not he had returned
to the Army in another name and was using his undoubted pluck and -enterprise in the
praiseworthy work of killing Germans.
I should have liked a battalion of Broncho Bills, if only I could have kept them busily
employed. Between times, one was more than enough.
I have often wondered if it was Broncho Bill who stole my new riding breeches which
were hanging out on the line to dry, outside my office, or who decamped with a staff
officer's horse while he was delivering a message at a certain Brigade Headquarters at
Dickebush. One never can tell.
Material for the Ypres Book of Valour has now been received from the majority of
the Regiments, and before completing the plan the Editors ask us to say that they are
open to consider short accounts of really brilliant and outstanding deeds of valour that
were performed in the Salient. These must be authenticated, as the strictest accuracy
is an essential in compiling the book.
If you were an eye witness, or can put the Editors in touch with an eye witness
of such an achievement, please write immediately to the Hon. Secretary, Ypres Book
of Valour, 9, Baker Street, London, W.i.
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