Read Online And We Go On by Will R. Bird - Free Book Online Page B

until we were ready to collapse, and we all felt that it was well that there were no more Christmas parcels. A brick-hued, bulging officer inspected us. He looked as if he had been bred in the purple hielands o’ bonnie Scotland, and he talked as if he considered himself the repository of the regimental honour. He told us that we must realize what great privilege was ours to come and fight in the ranks of such a company as the Royal Highlanders. He hoped, he said, that we would always do our best – and his tone implied that he thought our best would be pitiful enough – and that implicit obedience to all orders would be very much to our advantage. Then, before he dismissed us, he looked sternly at Tommy and said that he trusted that none of us would become a bar sinister on the famed Black Watch escutcheon, or words to that effect. Tommy had moved impatiently and said things under his breath. Inspections roused him, enraged him. They were, to men of spirit, a degrading thing. You were herded like cattle into fields or yards and there stood to await the pleasure of some be-ribboned personage who gazed at one as if he were really lower in worth than a good horse. You look straight in front and the steps come closer and closer as the mighty one and his retinue goes down the line, and then a cold, supercilious face is before yours, and with creaking, shining leather and immaculate khaki they pass as you try to thrust back at them a gaze of impenetrable indifference.
    That night we went to Neuville St. Vaast and joined the battalion. Arthur, and big Herman, and Earle, and Laurie, and boy-faced Mickey, and Freddy, and Sam, and Ira, and Melville, and Baxter, and myself were shunted into a cellar in which were timbers holding shreds of wire that had once been bunks. Rats ran into holes as we lit candles and then came boldly back and stared at us. It was a cold and wet-smelling place. We sat on our packs and stared around. Not an order had been given us, we knew nothing about the lines, where we drew food, or what platoons we were supposed to be with. Some of the men were restless, and nervous. Tommy answered them sharply. “Let these Royal gents do the worrying,” he said. “They know where to find us.”
    In the next cellar the same condition existed. Hughey was there, a hairy, thick-shouldered man; Joe, an ex-policeman; Charley, an old school mate of mine; Billy, a man who always complained; Glenn, a giant of a fellow bred beside the sea; Gordon, big-framed and good-natured; Christensen, a Dane; Eddie, an athlete from my home town; and Jerry, a fine, clean-living youngster away from home for the first time. There were a few others lined up in a passageway between, but these men were my friends. Tommy and I went above and explored our area. A path led around ruins to numerous other dugouts and cellars. We went down one entrance and looked around. It had splendid bunks and was fitted with hooks for equipment and rifles, and was heated by braziers. “They shoved us in that hole because we’re new,” blazed Tommy, when we were outside again. “It’s the old army game.”
    â€œSure,” I agreed, “but in six months’ time we’ll do the same with other new ones.”
    â€œThat don’t fix things now,” he growled, and we went on down a side path to where light glimmered from an odd corner. As we looked a man came out of the low entrance, and he dragged his pack after him.
    â€œAre you chaps looking for a billet?” he asked.
    â€œYou bet,” said Tommy.
    â€œGo right in there, then,” said the man. “There’s bunks and a stove and extra blankets.”
    Ten minutes later Earle and Laurie and Baxter and Tommy and I were in that cellar. Our equipment was hung in place and we were reposing on our different beds. No one came to disturb us and we had a comfortable night, the best we had had in France.
    Next day Tommy and I went outside and