“When the gas cylinders were opened, the thick green mist came rolling towards the parapet from the enemy’s empty front trench, several hundreds of yards away. It looked like vapour rising from a marsh, and the wind was strong enough to carry it rapidly towards the parapet.
“The battalion had time to load and fire two rounds through the screen of gas before it came pouring over the sand-bags, penetrating into every crevice of the dug-out, and choking the men who lay there. It was so thick at first that objects three feet away could hardly be seen.”
At a later date the Germans began to make attacks under cover of flame-projectors. The liquid used was a mixture of petrol and kerosene and was thrown towards the trench in such a way that it was fired by an electric spark as it left the tube. Such were some of the horrors of trench life which were borne without complaint day after day by the men who held the post of honour, the long front line facing a clever and determined foe.
It may seem difficult to believe that there was a funny side to this dread business of death, ruin, and hatred. Yet there were many humourous incidents which were not missed by our cheery soldiers. One story tells of a poor private who had toothache very badly and was sitting by the roadside like the old woman who “went to the market her eggs for to sell.” By came—not “a pedlar” but a shell which exploded in the sufferer’s vicinity, but did not hurt him.
In fact it proved of great benefit to him; for he was so much “shocked” that he instantly lost his toothache.
On the first of April 1915 an Allied airman flew over the aerodrome of the French town of Lille which was in German hands. He dropped not a bomb but a football. The Germans ran for cover and watched the “bomb” strike the earth and then bounce to a great height!
They watched carefully to take notes for the Kaiser on the new “postponed” fuse. Only when the ball had rested for some time quite peacefully on the ground did they come out to read the inscription with which it was furnished, namely—“April Fool!”
The flying men on both sides in the fight on the Western Front had a great deal of respect for each other; and in some cases courtesies were exchanged between them which remind us of the olden days of chivalry.
If, for example, a machine was brought down within either of the opposing lines, it was the custom for the captors to drop a weighted letter over the enemy positions giving information as to the fate of the pilot and the observer.
One day, one of these letters fell within the British lines. It told the men of a certain section of the air service that one of their pilots had died the day before. The men at once prepared a wreath which was taken over the German lines on a fast monoplane. The machine was fired at by the Germans as usual; but the British pilot flew low and was able to drop the wreath in a suitable spot, whence it was carried by the Germans to the dead pilot’s grave.