EVERY man who served his country in the firing-line during the Great War has
a possession of his own which can never be taken from him. No other men have
it it is the soldier's most treasured piece of propertyhis memories.
As I Remember Them
166 THE YPRES TIMES
By A. Douglas Thorburn, M.A. (Capt. R.F.A., S.R., retd.)
Author of "Amateur Gunners."
Thomas Moore.
We are not The Lost Generation but the generation that lived for years on clear
and cloudless heights of endeavour of which ordinarily only the poets catch even a
fleeting glimpse.
Some people retain in their minds a sharper picture than others of the things that
happened to them. Good memories are not conferred upon favoured individuals at
birth by fairy godmothers or bad memories by evilly-disposed wizards. A good
memory, for incidents at any rate, is merely the result of an active and observant mind
and the things in which we have taken the deepest interest leave the deepest impressions
on our memories. --q
If the above be true, and I am sure that it is, it is quite evident that the memories of the
front-line soldier will be clear-cut and lasting. In the firing-line a man had to use
his wits and keep his eyes wide open and his brain active or lose the number of his mess.
London streets were not the only localities in those memorable days which were
inhabited by two sorts of peoplethe quick and the dead."
All real ex-soldiers of the Great War have a way of setting about recalling memories
of the old days most of their sentences begin with the words Do you remember how
This is all the more pleasant an exercise because, as a modern French writer has
observed, the Memory serves the mind much as the liver serves the body, acting as a
kind of filter, which eliminates what is offensive and poisonous and allows to pass only
that which is wholesome and pleasant.
As the fortunate survivors of 20th Century War run over their recollections of the
years 1914/1919 it will usually be found that memories of the fine things come up the
most sharply defined and that, except in the minds of the neurotic and prurient, the
hateful experiences are only dimly pictured and time fades the image.
We all know that among the millions who4fought in the war there were some who were
shirkers, some who had piggish habits and instincts, and some who should never have
been there. The thoughts of the right sort of man turn instinctively away from recol
lections of what was hateful, to memories of what was fine and admirable.
It is quite an untrue picture which paints all the scenes in sombre or lurid colours.
There is not one decent man who wore the King's uniform in those memorable years
who cannot find tucked away in his mind memories of unselfishness, comradeship,
