However, we made the examination of the lines. After we had finished the firing line and were returning, we found ourselves crossing overland by the route over which he had attempted to take us to the front. He had led us up a gradually ascending communication trench, and so unknown to us had reached this overland trail. Nothing happened, nothing was said about it, but I certainly felt relieved when I was once again in a trench without having a German bullet sneaking between my ribs. How little Tommy cares about risking his life if it lessens his task!
In passing, it may be mentioned that on this Christmas day none of that fraternizing took place which had taken place the previous Christmas. In fact, early on the Christmas morning the battalion on our left, after a severe bombardment, put on a raid, and Christmas night the enemy retaliated with heavy stuff of all kinds. Probably this is as it should be, for while it may look well in print to read of our troops and the Germans exchanging cigarettes and eatables in No Man's Land, it is detrimental to discipline, and injurious to the best fighting spirit. It would be much more repugnant to the Anglo-Saxon at any rate to kill men with whom he had just passed a pleasant social half hour. This may appear heartless, but war is a heartless game, and fraternizing may very well be left until after the peace articles are signed.
CHAPTER IV
KELLY
Kelly is my batman or personal servant.
His name tells his nationality. His philosophy, especially as regards the war, is usually interesting and always instructive. Yesterday he accompanied me to headquarters out in front of the railway line at Vimy. We had to cross a few hundred yards in the open, where the Huns had an annoying habit of dropping shells at irregular moments.
Suddenly we heard the horrible shriek of an approaching whizz-bang. It passed over our heads and banged into the earth twenty feet or so beyond us. Knowing that others would probably follow it, and that they might have twenty feet less of a range, we jumped into a four-foot-deep shell hole which happily was beside us. We hugged affectionately the German side of the hole to take advantage of whatever protection it afforded. One after another, in rapid succession, three more of these shells shrieked toward us. Fortunately our unuttered prayer that they would not come to see us in our hole was answered, for they followed the first and struck twenty or twenty-five feet past us, just close enough to sprinkle us well with mud. While we waited a few more minutes to see if any more were coming, I turned over and faced Kelly.
"Don't you think, Kelly," I asked seriously, "that lying in a shellhole like this is rather an undignified position for two proud Anglo-Saxons?"
"No doubt it is, sor, but it's a good dale safer than stayin' where we wor. An' if there's one sound, Cap'n, that I've larned to rispict more than another in this war, it's the shriek of an oncomin' shell, whin it sames to be comin' in yer direction. Now, duds (shells that fail to explode) is different. D'ye remember, sor, the day we come in to relave the 28th Battalion here, as the colonel, the adjutant, and yersilf were comin' over the crest of the ridge, an' I bringin' up the rear with that luggage of yours?" He looked at me reproachfully, for, though looking after my luggage was part of his duties, he never pretended to like it. "A dud landed just besoide us. The sound of a dud thuddin' into the earth nearboy one is swater to me than ever was the gurglin' of a brook on a June day down the banks of the Lakes of Killarney."
Kelly's advice is often worth taking, for he has been out there well into his second year, and, while he has not yet been wounded, no one ever accused him of lack of courage. He occasionally does things with a slight, almost imperceptible, grimace of pained surprise. But he always does them—when ordered. In my early days I was prone at times to take a peep over the front line parapet at the always interesting No Man's Land.