THE YPRES TIMES
From here we raced back to Ypres as a storm was obviously approaching from the
west barely had we reached Skindles when a terrific hail-storm swept the town, the
like of which had rarely, if ever, been experienced by any of the party. Windows were
smashed, water poured through the hotel roof, and pandemonium reigned. Severe as it
was, it was soon overin time for us to catch our trainand its passing left the party in
really fine spirits, and, of course, someone simply had to pull the communication cord
after the train had started. Oh, LaLa
At Dunkerque a huge supper was followed by toasts and some good speeches, and
the opportunity was taken to pay tribute to those principally responsible for the trip.
First of all our old Mess Secretary, who in addition to organising this tour, has kept all
members of the Battery in touch with each other since demobilisation, received a tre
mendous ovation. Then Gapt. de Trafford was thanked for his most helpful and success
ful organisation through the whole tour, which had primarily contributed to the happiness
of all concerned while demonstrating so clearly the efficiency of the Ypres League service,
including, as it did, the personal and most capable supervision of our charabanc tours by
Mr. C. J. Parminter. Finally an entertainment by the Battery humorist made everyone
laugh till they cried. Star of the Evening was sung reverently, solemnly, gladly, and,
finally, hilariously, with accent on the Coo/?-house door
Then we embarked and enjoyed another "mill-pond" crossing, reaching Victoria in
the early hours of Tuesday morning.
A fitting finish to the party was the question loudly asked by our humorist at break
fast in an A.B.C. shop near Victoria, Does anybody here speak English
The trip was a complete success, and can be recommended to all Units who fought
in the Salient, who should go and see for themselves what God, Nature and Man can do.
Verily, I shall restore unto you the years that the locusts have eaten."
Chas. E. Salvesen,
Major, R.G.A. (T).
By W. J. Parry.
NEARLY seventeen years later the most vivid impression of those war years,
an impression which remains scarified in my memory, is the sight of starvation.
We seldom hear anything of that aspect of war. When it is referred to at all
it is generally in a glib sort of way, as though it denoted nothing more than discomfort
of hardship. That, of course, is because in our country few have met it, and by starva
tion I do not mean hunger.
We have all experienced hunger in those years gone by, many, unfortunately, have
known it since. And in mid-winter, in those memorable years, when "jocund day stood
tip-toe above the mists of Messines Ridge, and in the front line your daily ration of
bread, mysteriously arriving during the night, proved to be one-third of a half-pound
loaf. And someone had placed his army boot on your third. Even then, there was
often a dog biscuit to be found to keep you going during the next twenty-four hours
and during those nights, when the official communique assured us that the night was
quiet on the Western Front," there was always the consolation that in a few days time
you would be back at rest behind Neuve Eglise, if your luck held.
No I mean starvation. A frightful thing the most pitiable, cruel, helpless form
of suffering just the sight of it remains with me now as surely as a terrifying, recurrent
nightmare. Impressions which have seared most deeply into one's very soul are just
those which the average Englishman keeps most silent about, but recently I came
across the following statement by a financial expert.
