Told in gallant deeds

by Marie Belloc Lowndes

I have been told that one of the strangest and, in a sense, most pathetic sights on the battlefields of the Aisne was the loose horses which rushed hither and thither aimlessly while shells whistled overhead. Another curious sight is the terror of the birds when an aeroplane flies low. They swirl about, beside themselves with fright, and evidently believe that the flying machine is a huge monster of their own kind bent upon their extermination.

A private of the Royal Irish Fusiliers described how he and his comrades once went under fire:

“As we stood up, there was a ghastly shower of bullets, and shells burst all round. Into it we had to go, and as I looked ahead one of our chaps said, ‘I think we’ll have to get our great-coats, boys; it’s raining bullets to-night, and we’ll get wet if we’re not careful.’ Men of “C” Company started laughing, and then they took to singing ‘Put up your umbrellas when it comes on wet!’ The song was taken up all along as we went into the thick of it, and some of us were humming it as we dashed into the German trenches.”

During the retreat from Mons a slightly wounded Scot, an artilleryman, asked a German for water, and was refused. Long afterwards, during the Battle of the Aisne, the artilleryman recognised the same German among a party of wounded whose cries for water couldn’t be attended to quickly enough.

The recognition was mutual, and the German stopped his moaning, thinking he was sure to be paid back in his own coin. But the Highlander took out his water-bottle and handed it to the German without a word. According to one who was there, the German had the grace to look very shamefaced indeed.

Our flying men played a most important part in this Battle of the Aisne. What they did, and how they did it, was excellently described in the following letter written by Lord Castlereagh from Champagne. As you read it you will feel as if you were there, watching the wonderful and inspiring sight:

“The thing that has impressed me most here has been the aeroplane service, a splendid lot of boys who really do not know what fear is. The Germans shoot shrapnel at them, and you see the aeroplane like a dragon-fly in the air, and then a lot of little puffs of white smoke, which are the shells bursting. Luckily the shots are very wide, and so far none have been brought down. One man was shot in the thigh by a German airman whom he was chasing.

“I watched for twenty-five minutes an aeroplane doing what is called ‘ranging’ for a battery of heavy guns. The aeroplane watches where the shells drop, and then signals to say where the shells are falling, whether too far or not far enough. This aeroplane was being shelled by the enemy with shrapnel, and three times it flew round and showed the battery where they were shooting. The Germans must have fired forty shells.

“The aeroplane, about five thousand feet up, and easily in sight, looked like an eagle, and about the same size, and the shells made a cloud of white smoke and looked about the size of a cabbage. It was a wonderful sight, and if such a picture appeared in an illustrated paper no one would think it was anything else but an imaginary one.”

On September 22 a daring exploit was performed by a group of British aviators. They flew off and made a successful raid into Germany. Flight-Lieut. C. H. Collet dropped three bombs on the Zeppelin shed at Düsseldorf, and as the whole shed burst into flames it is clear that his object was accomplished.