TWO FIELDS
232
THE YPRES TIMES
effect on the men. The shelling grew in fury. A man was hit through the shin,
and squealed like a rabbit. Another man I had placed in a fire position behind a
fallen tree was shot, and rolled over dead. Then a number of others got hit.
Meanwhile, we had no visible target. Colonel Arthur Solly-Flood (Major-General
Arthur Solly-Flood, C.B., C.M.G., D.S.O.), who had only just taken over
command of the regiment from Colonel Mullins, was the beau-ideal of a
British officer in a tight corner. He maintained that calm and complacent
demeanour which is the despair of all other nationals. He gave the impression
that he was thoroughly enjoying his jab and that it was turning out exactly as
planned. In the course of the day he sent me back to see whether the enemy
had cut us off, and to get into touch with Brigade Headquarters; also to learn
whether we could withdraw when necessary. With difficulty I found my horse,
and trotted off through the mud. I found the way all clear, and returned.
The enemy fire was drawing closer. Casualties were increasing. I was
shocked to discover the little farm full of wounded Dragoons by the time I
returned. I was able to report that I had seen some British infantry on the move
-in our rear. Daylight began to fail. Our men were getting very cross. Water
was scarce, and we had nothing to eat. Our little doctor-man was very busy.
I think it was on this day that we discovered that he had had a bullet in him for
not less than four days without mentioning the fact.
We were not happy. We had reached the limitThen, without warning, a
trickle of sweating, cursing -but quite good-tempered lads came through the woods
behind us. They seemed to know what was expected of them, for at the edge of
the wood, and without pausing, they fixed bayonets, and, as one of our men said,
vulgarly, went through the village of Le Gheer and the Boche occupiers like a
dose of salts."
Some of us went forward with them. There was a pause in the Hun attention
to ourselves. Firing was heard increasing in volume, and then a diminution.
Presently a stream of wounded men began to trickle back to the cover of the
woods. A man bearing on his back a wounded comrade, a young officer with a
painful wound through the forearm, and another with a smashed finger, both of
whom refused to be dressed until all their men were seen to. One poor fellow
seemed to have stopped half a dozen fragments of shrapnel with his face; another
had been caught by a burst of machine-gun bullets. They moaned pitifully until
the ambulance man gave them a shot of something in the arm. The edge of the
wood became an advanced dressing station. It looked like a slaughter-house
Meanwhile, in the village, the 'Hun was having a rough time. He was quite
unprepared for an attack from this side, and the Somerset lads were in the main
street before the Germans were aware of their danger. Trench after trench was
taken, the British bayonets doing savage work that hot evening. Heaps of
Germans filled the dug-outs on the edge of the village, and when we got to the
far side the enemy was on the run.
Between those fields of living death
Where metal seeds we once have sown
And seen gaunt harvests over-blown
And only memory can link fast
The lengthening chain of active life,
With every present moment rife
By leaden-charged machine guns' breath,
With instants that recall the past.
And these fields which we cultivate
And sow with life-embodied seeds,
To-day upon this peaceful field
I saw a twisted tree stump lie
The long years roll to separate
And only memory holds our deeds
As, years ago, a German kneeled
Stark dead beneath a Flanders sky.
J. H. F.
