On December 10th we rejoined the 108th Brigade, moving from Buigny l’Abbe to St. Mauguille, a faubourg of St. Requier. This proved to be the most pleasant town in which we had as yet been billeted. Two Companies “B” and “C” were in St. Mauguille at Neuville, about one mile from St. Riquier. We had excellent billets both for Officers and men, and as we had now thoroughly acquired the nack of making ourselves at home, settled down very comfortably. The people were most hospitable. There were excellent hot and cold shower baths for the men, and a Battalion laundry was set up. For our Company Mess, Monsieur Vivien, the manager of a big phosphate works gave us the greater part of his house, and he and Madame Vivien with their daughter, did all they could to make us feel at home. St. Requier was a most interesting old town. It had successfully stood siege by Henry V. and the English on two occasions, but had been sacked and burnt by the Burgundians in the end of the 15th century. Large portions of the walls still remain, and some of the old towers. In a moated farm-house just outside the town Jeanne D’Arc spent a night on her way to her trial at Rouen. Another fact of great interest was that the ancient Abbey of St. Requier had been founded by our own countrymen in the 6th century[1].
TOMB OF THE FIRST IRISH SAINTS.
MONSIEUR VIVIEN AND FAMILY.
We spent a happy Xmas at St. Requier, and as we were in billets decided to make the best of it. The men were in excellent health and spirits, football, shooting, and route marches keeping them in training. The 18th of December being “Lundy Day,” was celebrated by some Derry men and other Ulster boys, the following being a description of the celebration by an Officer. Two Lundy’s had been prepared, one large and the other small. Some of the inhabitants suggested that they were father and son. The father was about eleven feet long, stuffed with straw, and with rockets put in unexpected places. He had large wooden feet and wire knees, and his head filled with gunpowder and surrounded by a large yellow trimmed hat in the shape of an Admiral’s. On his chest was a placard bearing the words “Lundy the traitor.” The procession, headed by torchlights and band, marched through the village playing such airs as “No Surrender,” “Derry Walls” and “The Boyne Water.” Lundy was then let down on a wire rope from a tree where he had been strung up, and set on fire, amidst great cheering and boohing. He was well soaked with petrol and burnt excellently. Every now and then someone gave him a shake and his knees wobbled in most realistic fashion. Bombs made of jam tins were thrown into a pond just beside him, and of course broke the windows of houses in the vicinity. The procession then reformed, and marching to the top of the village, where Lundy junior was burnt with like ceremony.
Christmas, of course, produced a series of dinners given by the Officers Commanding Companies and Battalion Headquarters. To read the menu cards it was hard to believe we were in France, and that this was the second year of the war. One particularly elaborate dinner was given on Christmas day, to which we invited Madame Vivien, our kind hostess, and her family. The following is a copy of the menu in which most of the guests are represented.