THE YPRES TIMES
53
on to say, would leave a far more bitter sting than a victory won with cannons
and bayonets."
I remember a young officer in the war. He was nothing much to look at; like
a great many of the good soldiers I have known, he was not of the kind that
would attract attention in a ballroom, or even on the barrack square, but he had
the heart of a lion. When there was any dirty work to be done, such as a night
patrol to examine the German wire, he would generally be chosen, because it
was known that there would be no shirking, and the work would be done
thoroughly. That is the worst of war. It leads to the destruction of the best
and fittest.
Fate favoured my friend until the great German offensive which opened on
March 21st, 1918. Then, a shell fell upon him, blowing him and all the men in
his bay to bits.
If he were alive to-day I wonder what he would have thought about it all. He
would not have said a great deal. That much I know. It was not his way.
January loth, 1932.
Sir,
I have always thought the story of the Angels of Mons the vision which was said to have
appeared to some in the 1914 Retreatvery interesting.
I do not remember having seen a written story regarding this vision. If any of your readers
could give an account or evidence, first- or second-hand, I think it would be of great interest to many
of us.
T. R. Holland,
Lieut.-Colonel, R.A
The Editor, The Ypres Times."
Dear Sir,
The papers have given us lately much of the humour which helped our men to carry on, but apart
from a few novels, plays and films, which hardly give a correct impression of the healthy-minded man,
there seems to be little which will give the rising and future generations any real insight into the feelings
and thoughts of the normal young soldier. That the war brought to light more good than bad traits
is clear to me. Compare the unselfishness of those days with the selfishness of to-day. Cynics there
are, who declare that real unselfishness does not exist and that every act of the individual is done for
his own pleasure.
Early one morning in the late summer of 1917 I was coming back from the line in the Salient and,
as I reached a dressing station, two German prisoners put down a stretcher on which lay a badly wounded
Englishman. One of a small group of privates belonging to an English county regiment, who were
outside the dressing station, took from his breast pocket a packet which held only two cigarettes. He
gave one to each of the Germans. I wondered, and still wonder, why he gave his last cigarettes to these
Huns. Was it just an instinct of hospitality, or what I think he was anyhow a real English gentleman
(that much misused term Incidentally no word was spoken throughout this episode, but the wistful
eyes of the wounded man showed that he longed for a cigarette and I was glad that I had one to put
between his lips and to light for him.
Should you, sir, think the subject of any general interest, may I suggest that others of your readers
give anecdotes creditable to our men
Yours faithfully,
Gunner."
The Editor, The Ypres Times."
