R.A.F. Glimpses of Sept. 38th, 1918.
THE YPRES TIMES
109
and four horse-ambulances came up at the psychological moment and cleared us.
and we got away half an hour before the German guns started dropping their cards
in the neighbourhood of the farm.
En route we collided with the 7th Divisional Transport, which was temporarily
moving into the country on account of the unhealthy crustacean atmosphere of
Ypres; and when we had sorted ourselves we settled down in another farm house
even less suited to hospital requirements than the last {Kemmel). Here our waggons
joined us, and brought a further 31 wounded, some of whom were desperately hit.
The next day found us making a further strategic move to the rear, and, on this
occasion, in the absence of a clearing convoy, we had to carry our patients with us,
making those walk who could, as three of our four waggons had again gone out to
collect more. Here we halted for two days in a brewery Reninghelstand were
able to give more adequate attention to our wounded; an abdominal case which we
had carried and kept for three days was eventually evacuated, and one is glad to
think that he is alive to tell the tale to-day.
The regiments collected their stragglers and counted the cost, which was heavy,
but were consoled to think that they must have inflicted three or even four times the
loss on the serried ranks of the enemy.
Our retirement was covered by fresh troops, including the London Scottish,
who earned undying fame on that day at Messines, and presently the magnificent
French 75's came up and more than equalized the artillery position, putting the
Bosches back in their proper place, which was where they were before.
After this, and the thanks of the Cavalry General under whose orders the
regiment had been when the brigade was split in two, we recrossed the Belgian
border and rejoined the division further down the line Estaires
February, 1915. C. H. Rkinhold, Capt., I.M.S.
{To be continued in the January edition.)
FIVE-THIRTY on a squally morning, wakened by the orderly, slowly the
realization sweeps over you that this is the day for which all ranks have been
waiting for weeks, the day which all hope will see the beginning of the end.
A hurried cup of tea in the mess and out to the hangers, where the machines
are already being wheeled out by a small army of mechanics who are giving them
a last look over, for they know, only too well, what the slightest defect might
mean. The machines are single-seater fighters with two fixed guns firing through
the propeller, there being a synchronizing gear to prevent the guns from firing
when the propeller is in front of the muzzles; they are built for quick manoeuvring
and not safety. The C.O. is already there, cheerful, but nevertheless anxious.
"Well Sall O.K. You know your instructions. Good luck," and he moves
aside as one after another the machines take the air, all close in, in perfect forma
tion, on the Flight Commander almost before his machine is well clear of the
ground.
Our instructions were definite but at the same time vague. For two hours it
