CHAPTER VI.
THE "MAKE" OF A BRITISH TRENCH.
The four following sketches will, I hope, give a fairly clear and accurate idea of the construction of a British trench. The first depicts one of my comrades (who was also a brother-artist by profession, and a brother-sniper) sitting reading, during a surcease of the firing, on the firing platform in a trench corner. It will be noticed that he wears his sleeping cap. Very close and handy are his tall jack-boots—so serviceable in wet weather and heavy mud. My artist-friend, I should like to remark, was considered among snipers a great shot, and there is no doubt that he often did deadly work with his rifle.
A Trench Sniper Resting.
After the trench has been dug out the sandbags are placed along the top so as to form what is called a "parapet." Then the trench is dug deeper still and the firing platform is put in. Next the vertical struts of wood are put in position with wiring in between to hold back the mud, and in places where it is possible blocks fill in gaps to strengthen the structure. Finally the bed of the trench is boarded over with long heavy planks, some of which require two men to carry them; these are very often placed on bricks or blocks of wood to give air spaces underneath to keep them dry as far as possible. The trench is now completed as far as its construction is concerned, but it is left to be "furnished" with any supplies that happen to be handy. One of the first essentials is naturally the fireplace. This, as in the present instance, is very often an old tin pail with a few holes knocked in it, somewhat similar to the one used by Mr. Wilkie Bard in his famous sketch, "The Night Watchman." The fuel consists of charcoal, wood and coke, to get which fully lit it is usual to swing the receptacle round and round so as to create a draught and start the contents thoroughly on the go. There is a great danger attending this, for if the Germans catch a glimpse of the brazier being whirled in the air they immediately locate the whirler and begin firing in his direction.
The black patch in the centre of the picture represents the sniping place, which is a thick piece of iron let into the parapet with a hole bored through it large enough to take the muzzle of the rifle. It also allows enough space for the sniper to see through, and, with the aid of the periscope, held usually by a comrade at his side, he is able to get the sight for his firing.
A Traverse.
A Traverse.
Here is a "traverse" in a trench. The sergeant is reading the orders of the day to one of his men. This was a very damp corner—on the top of the dug-out to the left tunics were hanging to dry in the early morning air. The soldier still has on his sleeping cap (like the figure in the last picture); his mess-tin is by his side, and his rifle, encased in a waterproof cover. He is sitting on the firing platform, and the depth of the trench is noticeable, showing how low the men are in the ground. The sandbags shown it took us four hours one night to place in position. As fast as we put them up they were shot down again by the enemy's maxim fire. We were all so tired and sleepy that, working on automatically, we hardly knew whether we were putting the mud in the sandbags or outside them.
It was not only the dampness and the incessant maxim fire we had to contend with here, but an army of insects, which jumped about us in battalions, and saw to it we were never lonely. A Cockney member of our company, after catching a particularly active jumper, called out: "Now then, you blighter, where is your respirator?"
The enemy were only thirty yards away, and we could often hear them shouting at us and would answer back. Many of our men were hit by snipers, while the shelling was often terrific, but we stuck on, as we were holding a part of an important military position. I remember how on an occasion when the shelling was very heavy one man engaged himself in making soup as coolly as if nothing was happening until the earth knocked up by the shells began to drop into the mess-tin, when he gave us his opinion of the Boches in his own forcible vernacular. We often laid for hours at the bottom of the trench—flat on the ground in the water and mud to escape the shells.
The Birth-Place of a Song.
The Birth-Place of a Song.
The third bit of trench of this chapter has a claim to fame as the birth-place of a song. The song was one which only British soldiers could have concocted, and none but British soldiers would have sung. It had no known author and no known composer. It sort of "growed," like Topsy. If it had had a title given to it I suppose it would have been called "I want to go home," for that was its dirge-like refrain, always sung very cheerfully indeed, or with mock earnestness. Time and again I heard its chorus taken up with terrific gusto from end to end of this trench, and the whole extraordinary composition spread to other trenches like a contagion. Its popularity was instant and enduring—and as unaccountable as the popularity of many other popular songs. I think I quote the inspired words of the chorus correctly:—
"I want to go home,
I want to go home—
Tho' the Jack Johnsons and shrapnel
May whistle and roar,
I don't want to go in the trenches no more;
I want to be
Where the Alleymonds can't catch me:
Oh my!
I don't want to die—
I want—to go home."
Three rifles are deposited on the steps of the fireplace—the usual position for rifles when not in hand, dropped inside canvas bags, bayonets protruding—kept well greased, to prevent them from getting rusty.
Trench Periscope.
Trench Periscope in Use.
The uses of a trench periscope are so well known that they need not be described. The feature of my last sketch of a trench from the inside is that it shows one in actual employment.