Hunting the Hun

by James Belton; E. G. Odell

He was about to pass me. I stopped and asked him where he was going. His reply was, "Sir, I am going over to the right to get my entrenching tool. I left it in a funk hole this afternoon and came away and forgot it." He then saluted and smiled as he was doing so. Somehow or other I did not like the way he smiled. But I had no reason to doubt his words. Although it was strictly against orders to allow anyone to leave the fire step at "stand to," Wagner was personally known to me, so I let him go.

My mind went back to the time I first met him, five years ago. We were both living at the same hotel in Montreal. Wagner was supposed to be an Englishman, and at that time he was a draughtsman in the employ of a large bridge company. It was said that he was one of the finest draughtsmen in Canada on bridge construction work, and he appeared to have a thorough knowledge of the whole of the country, as he had worked for various companies throughout Canada. Wagner mixed with the best of society in Montreal, but it was remarked that before the war his best friends appeared to be connected with the Hamburg-American Steamship Line. When war was declared he was the first man to disclaim any friendship existing between himself and anyone with a German name. No one appeared to hate the Germans more than he did, neither was there anyone more keen to enlist. But the medical examinations at the early stages of the war were so strict that he was rejected by the medical boards.

Wagner and I were often seated together at the same table, and, as he had travelled extensively, he was a very interesting and entertaining man, so we became very friendly.

Later on, when I received my commission he seemed to profess more friendship for me than ever before. His knowledge of military engineering and signalling interested me very much. He was also a clever linguist, speaking several languages fluently.

Being on leave one week-end from camp, I went into the dining-room of my hotel in Montreal to take lunch; and who should I see but Wagner. He was seated at the table in the same old place. I noticed he was in uniform. As I entered the dining-room he rose from his seat. I told him to sit down. He then told me he had just been passed by the medical board, as the soldiers' standard had been lowered. He appeared to be very pleased at having got through, and he said he hoped that it would not be long until he would be with the boys "Over There."

Just then a lady came into the dining-room. She was a German whom we both knew, married to a Canadian. As she passed us to get to her dining table, he said to me, "How I hate those Germans! The authorities ought to intern them all. If I had my way I would shoot them all, as I would any enemy of ours." He put great emphasis on the word "ours" and his eyes glared malevolently. Although I attached no importance to this little incident at that time, it now came back to my memory. Wagner quickly recovered from his ugly mood and asked me when I thought some of the troops would be sailing. I told him I did not know as we were not given any information with regard to the sailing of our troops. After this I lost track of Wagner until I arrived at my reserve battalion in England.

One day I happened to be going to the battalion orderly room, and who should be on sentry duty, much to my surprise, but Wagner. He saluted me. I returned his salute. After saying a few formal words, I passed into the orderly room. The adjutant said to me, during the course of our conversation, that he had a man whom he would like to promote for the time he would be at the training depot. I asked him the man's name and he told me it was Wagner. I then informed the adjutant that I had known Wagner for some years in Montreal and that in my opinion he would be a well-qualified man to make a non-commissioned officer.

That night about nine o'clock there was a knock at my hut door. I opened it and saw a sergeant with a man. The sergeant said, "Sir, Private Wagner would like to speak to you." I told the sergeant that he could go and that I would speak to Private Wagner alone. Wagner informed me that he was, to use the slang expression, "fed up" with camp life and that he wanted to get over to France with the first draft. He begged of me to see that his name was placed on the list. This I did for him and later on he left the reserve battalion two months before I reached France.

When I reached my fighting unit in France I was very much surprised to see Wagner working in the battalion orderly room. He seemed surprised and also pleased to meet me, and asked me if I would have him transferred to my platoon, which I did.

He told me if at any time I had to draw a cross section of a map, which is often done by us when we intend attacking a German position, he would be pleased to do it for me. Although I knew he could make an excellent sketch, I thought it would not be a wise thing to allow any of the men under me to know too much of our plans in case they should be taken prisoners by the Germans.