We suspect that it is chiefly young soldiers and new arrivals at the front who think of war as a game. The game must seem to be played out when winter days have to be passed in cold wet trenches, when frost bites, when wounds are inflicted, when food and other supplies are delayed. Many poor soldiers must echo the sentiment of one of their number who wrote at the end of a letter, "I must admit that I shall not be sorry when peace comes. A little of the game of war goes a long way. At first it is interesting, but the horror and foolishness of it I shall never get over."
The following extract from a letter of a young officer to his parents suggests that the pleasures of war, depending as they do on excitement, are, to say the least, fleeting. "People at home, and even other corps out here, do not realize what the infantry have to go through. Such things as many nights out in the open, rain or no rain, long marches over roads which have almost become bogs, perhaps no food all day, not because the A.S. Corps don't bring it up, but because you have a lot too much to do to eat it, and when you haven't got anything to do, you are too exhausted to eat it.... We manage to keep our spirits up and are quite cheery; one feels very down when one loses a pal, but we feel it is impossible to turn aside the wheels of fate. So we leave them to their rest behind us, forget about them and cheer up."
Another officer wrote: "If there is such a thing as hell on earth this must surely be it. I have been in the firing-line for four days; in the trenches for three, and just behind in support to-day, which isn't much better. They shell us nearly all day, and you have to creep into the farthest corner of the trench expecting the infernal things to burst on you. At present we are holding back thousands compared to our hundreds. They attacked yesterday and to-day in masses, but were driven back. I haven't washed or had my boots off since I got here, and am mud almost from head to foot, including hair."
[CHAPTER XX]
The Courage that Bears
The courage that bears and the courage that dares are really one and the same.
At a certain period of the night it became exceedingly important that the enemy should have no indication of the position of a detachment of British infantry which had been moved up towards him. Unhappily a stray shot shattered an arm of one of our men. In his agony the poor fellow allowed a cry to escape him. Next moment, seizing a piece of turf with his uninjured hand he thrust it into his mouth, where he held it in position until he was able to crawl back through the lines.
Not less of the courage that bears was shown by Corporal Lancaster, of the Coldstream Guards. He received an agonising wound, but was warned by his comrades that if he groaned he would disclose their position to the Germans. He endured in silence for six hours and then died.