CHAPTER VI
'GUNGA DIN' OF THE RED TRIANGLE
'You and your Association seem to me to be truly hitting the nail on the head, and working for the good of our soldier-lads, one and all. I have watched the Y.M.C.A. procedure at many camps, and have found it exactly adapted to the wants of large numbers of young men taken temporarily away from their homes and normal associations.'—General Sir Ian Hamilton.
One of the most striking of Kipling's characters was Gunga Din, the Indian water-carrier. He was not a fighting man, but when fighting was taking place he was in the thick of it, risking his life that he might carry water to slake the thirst of the fighting man. 'Gunga Din' was the appropriate name given to one of our leaders in France by a British Tommy. Those who do not know are sometimes inclined to sneer at the Y.M.C.A. man for having a 'cushy' job, but it is hard work from start to finish. His job is never done and very often is attended with considerable risk. His work may carry him right into the front line trenches and though it does not take him 'over the top,' yet, unlike the soldier, he has not the privilege of hitting back. His day's work will vary according to the camp. In all probability he will have to be up early in the morning, to get the coffee ready. The hut must be cleaned, and there will be a lot of canteen work to be done. The buying will occupy some time, and then there will be the evening programme to arrange and carry through. He must maintain personal touch with the men using the hut, so that the ideal leader must be half a dozen men rolled into one.
Our greatest difficulty during the war has been that of getting a sufficiency of workers of the right type. Every male worker is registered with the Director of Recruiting, and we are unable to recruit new men classified A between the ages of 18 and 52, or 18 and 45 for service overseas.
Twelve members of the Y.M.C.A. have won the Victoria Cross, 3 the D.S.O., 33 the M.C., 25 the D.C.M., and 53 the M.M., whilst registered at Headquarters are the names of 1223 who have made the supreme sacrifice. We think of many whose war work for the Y.M.C.A. has earned the title of 'Gunga Din,' as, for example, the young leader of the New Zealand work in France. He looks a boy, but is a genius for organising, and the pioneer of the work of the Red Triangle in advanced positions. Another man who has the instincts of the pioneer is the leader of the Australian workers in Egypt and Palestine, and yet another, a well-known Y.M.C.A. worker who, after doing good service in England in the early days of the war, went to represent Headquarters in Egypt. Torpedoed en route he took up his new work with characteristic enthusiasm and made good. Hundreds have rendered equally valuable service, so that it would be invidious to mention names.
In the great retreat, it was the D.A.Q.M.G. of the —— Corps who asked us to open up a Stragglers' Post at Westoutre. 'You are the people who can cheer up the men,' said he; 'I want you to get hold of the stragglers before they become deserters.' It was 'Gunga Din' he needed, but this time with cocoa-urn instead of water-bottle, and it was only an old bank to which our workers fixed their Red Triangle, but it was just what was needed. A bursting shell forced them to quit, but half an hour later they had opened up again in the village shop, opposite the church, and the mayor thanked them later on for their successful efforts.
Our officers' hut at Romerin was set on fire by a shell; shells were falling fast, and the larger hut soon became untenable, but the Y.M.C.A. man was running his show in the open under a tree, and was as busy as ever. The ubiquitous 'Ford' did its bit, and its load would sometimes consist of the Divisional Secretary himself, one or two other workers or Belgian refugees, a big caterer's boiler, a tea-urn, together with cases of biscuits and cigarettes. Thus equipped, it would proceed to some advanced dressing-station. Sometimes there would only be a sergeant and orderlies in charge, heroically doing their best to help the wounded, and the mere presence of a man like one of our secretaries gave them confidence, whilst the steaming hot drinks he soon had ready gave new courage to the wounded men who thronged the C.C.S. A great work of the 'Gunga Din' type was done on the Nieppe-Bailleul road during the retreat. What an amazing scene it must have been; an endless stream of refugees and wounded; units lost; batteries firing; men who had been for days without food, moving about like ghosts and digging themselves in at the side of the road. The Huns were only about eight hundred yards further along the road, and our soldiers fired as they walked. For three nights none of our workers even thought of going to bed; they stood by with cars ready to help where and how they were most needed, and gave help to soldiers and refugees alike. At dressing and casualty clearing stations they gave emergency help. At Remy, for instance, one of our men was told off to undress the wounded and rig them out in new pyjamas, whilst another made himself useful in cleaning the floors. Hot drinks were given out freely in all these centres just behind the line.
Following the British victory at Messines on June 7, 1917, a Leeds minister serving on the staff of the Y.M.C.A. wrote home describing the work for the walking wounded as he had seen it:—
'It was about three o'clock in the morning when the signal to advance was given, and the boys went over the parapet. About two hours later the wounded began to arrive at our hospital in ambulance vans. It had been previously arranged that only as far as possible walking cases—men slightly wounded—should be dealt with at our station, and the expeditious and efficient way in which their wounds were attended to reflected great credit on the medical staff. As soon as they left the dressing-room they were passed on to our Y.M.C.A., where we supplied them with various kinds of refreshments free. It was my great privilege to serve the first patient, who had a broken arm, with a freshly-made cup of tea and a sandwich, and never shall I forget his look and words of appreciation. Some were too ill to eat anything for a time, especially those who had been gassed or were suffering from shell-shock, but they were very glad of a seat on the grass in the shade of our tent. Some were so badly wounded that they were unable to speak, while others were half deaf and dumb as the result of shock. It was pathetic to see such men scribbling their request for a drink on a piece of paper. All were loud in their praise of the Y.M.C.A. and many were quite overcome when they realised that the tea, lemonade, cigarettes, and various kinds of eatables were provided free. One Scottish New Zealander, whose father is a well-known seed merchant in Edinburgh, declared that the Y.M.C.A. was the greatest thing in the war. In addition to attending to the needs of the "inner man"—and some of them we had to feed like babies, as both hands were wounded—we wrote letters and field cards for them, and tried in every possible way to add to their comfort. The spirit manifested by the majority of them was simply splendid, and scarcely ever did they refer to their own suffering and hardships.'