Ypres, April sand-gBtli, 1915
THE YPRES TIMES
With the exception of being shot at by friends who thought they were spies, and by
spies and snipers in tree-tops who hoped they were the enemy, the little party eventually
arrived at battery headquarters at around n p.m., where they fell, sick and exhausted,
to the ground. j
And the Battery Commander, coming up to the writer, gave vent to the following
Why, I have sent a telegram to say you were missing, believed killed,' and now,
damn it all, I shall have to change it
In such an inglorious manner did the adventure end, and all that remains to be
added as an epilogue is that the scribe's companion managed to reach the battery, from
which he was evacuated, only to be killed at a later date, while the two signallers,
although they escaped unhurt, eventually developed tuberculosis and died from the
effects of the gas.
History has told, and will tell for all time, how the gap was filled by officers,
servants, cooks, postal orderlies, etc. haw, with the Canadians holding fast, and fresh
French reserves being rushed up the line, the breach was restored how the second
Battle of Ypres came to an end, finding battered, heroic Ypres still in Allied hands,
and how, in later years, a Memorial Gate was erected on the never-to-be-forgotten
Menin Road, bearing the superbly simple legend
To the Officers and Men of the
British Armies Who Stood Here in
1914-1918."
M. P. T.
The surging battle line long since is still,
And cenotaphs are reared, and flowers are spread
Across the meadow and behind the hill,
O'er all those hallowed gardens of the dead.
Dead Not to us, though all the world forget
That hideous travail of a nation's birth
Your living memory is with us yet
Despite far scattered mounds of sacred earth
I
And those of usso fewwho still remain
Cherish our scarssore guerdon of the years
And, in remembering, almost bless our pain
That tells of tribute paid in blood and tears
And so to you we raise this silent glass
And pledge ourselves to keep your memory bright,
And pray we, too, when comes our time to pass,
May look with fearless eyes into the night.
R. Ross Napier.
