The Dispatch-Riders: The Adventures of Two British Motor-cyclists in the Great War

by Percy F. Westerman

With that the Major hurried off, and the two lads hastened to take possession of their own property.

"Fancy Great Britain being at war with Germany at last!" exclaimed Kenneth. "We can hardly realize it, although most people have been talking about it for years. Perhaps even now our fleet is giving the Germans a good hiding. The rotten part about our job is that we may not be able to get news of how things are going on at home."

Therein Kenneth was right. The news they received was mostly rumour. In fact, the statement they had just heard, that Great Britain had declared war, was premature. An ultimatum had been sent to Berlin stating that, unless Belgian neutrality were respected, hostilities would commence at midnight. The Liégeois had anticipated the hour, and so had the Germans, for already their mine-layers were at work in the North Sea.

An hour later, just as the sun was sinking behind the smoke-enshrouded city of Liége, Kenneth Everest and Rollo Barrington were enlisted as volunteer dispatch-riders in the 9th regiment of the line of the Belgian army.

CHAPTER V

A Baptism of Fire

At eight o'clock on the following morning the motorcyclist section—nine in number—was paraded in front of the orderly-room of Fort de Barchon. Already the bulk of the regiments had marched out to take up a position in the trenches between the fortifications and the right bank of the Meuse.

The two English lads had been served out with a dark-blue uniform, with heavy boots and brown gaiters, and had been armed with a Belgian service revolver—a .45-bore, made by the famous firm of Cockerill of Seraing.

Already they had been instructed in its use, and had—thanks to their cadet training—met with the approval of their musketry instructor. Their motor-cycles had also been subjected to a critical inspection. The officer—who in civil life had been in the motor industry at Liége—had to report, in spite of slight professional jealousy, that the English motor-cycles were fit for service, and almost equal to those owned by the other members of the dispatch-riding section.