THE YPRES TIMES
139
One youth who appeared regularly was half-witted. He had the sleep-walking
habit and one night was nearly shot bv a sentry. On another occasion coming back
from one of his peregrinations he turned into bed, by mistake, with the sergeant-major.
Anyone who has got into bed, my mistake, with a sergeant-major will readily appreciate
what happened. The whole camp stood to arms under the impression that we were
being attacked by an army corps of Germans.
On the 13th February our sentries fired on an advance patrol of the enemy. The
next evening Scotty Smith reported that a body of Germans about two thousand strong
with artillery were within ten miles of our outposts and were trying to cut our com
munications. We immediately wirelessed down to Cynidas for reinforcements, but the
commanding officer of the commandos stationed there answered that their scouts
reported their own position to be a precarious one, and advised us to fall back on them.
This we proceeded to do.
It was a beautiful moonlight night and I sat on the stoop in front of our head
quarters listening to the sound of preparations being made for a speedy departure. Out
of the shadows the figure of a man appeared and silently seated himself near me.
Hullo Scotty I said, We are going to get out of this death-trap at last, it
■seems."
He appeared to be rather depressed, and in an unwonted burst of confidence told
me that he reckoned this would be his last campaign and that he would not get through
it.
As you know," he observed, I have a price on my head and if I am captured
to-night, my time will have come."
I felt very sorry for the old man.
I quite see that you will be in an awkward position, should we fall into the hands
of the Germans," I replied, still let us hope for all our sakes that this will not
happen."
For a long time he remained silent, then he got up and prepared to depart.
Sit down again, Scotty," I said, You have something on your mind. Sit
down and tell me about it. Perhaps it will relieve you to do so."
After a moment's hesitation he resumed his seat. "Yes," he muttered, per
haps you are right."
I sat quite quiet afraid to speak lest he should change his mind.
I am getting an old man now," he began, and I feel to-night that I am stand
ing very close to death. A man's life is what he makes of it and when it comes to the
last, few of us are troubled with regrets; yet when I cast my eyes back upon the long
vista of the past there is one act, and, strange as it may seem, one only that I regret."
For nearly a minute he sat gazing into space, then he proceeded: In 1876, when
I was a young man, I took an active part in the Carlist rebellion, in Spain. This was
my first campaign. It is not necessary for me to enter into the question of my social
position or rank at the time, let it suffice that in those days I was not as near the
bottom rung of the ladder as I am now. One night, I remember it was a beautiful
moonlight night such as this, I attended a Ball in, let us say, Madrid. After supper
while I was dancing with a Spanish Senorita of great beauty, a certain officer inadver
tently or through carelessness, stepped upon the train of my partner's dress, and tore
a huge hole in it.
Being young and hot-tempered I turned on the fellow and, before realising what I
was doing, struck him a blow in the face. Now you know what that meant in Spain in
those days."
