At Ypres with Best-Dunkley

by Thomas Hope Floyd

"We have been on the 'bull ring' again this morning. The weather is as hot as ever. While we were down there a German aeroplane flew right over from one end to the other—north to south. The anti-aircraft guns were firing at it the whole time, but failed to hit it. It was flying at a great height, and the shrapnel appeared to be bursting all round it. At one time it flew directly over our heads; but it did not drop any bombs! A few minutes after it had passed, bits of shrapnel fell quite near us—within four or five yards—proving how much overhead it had been. It was quite exciting, but not quite so much so as it was during those two minutes at Dover last September. Now the question which arises is: What was its object? It did not drop any bombs. Its object, therefore, must have been reconnaissance. I suppose that it came to find out what number of troops we are moving round this way to the new battlefield in the north. Even though we may move troops by so roundabout a way, the enemy is able to find out by means of aircraft. Aircraft makes man[oe]uvre in modern warfare intensely difficult."

That same evening orders came through for me to proceed up the line, but, as the following letter will tell, they were afterwards cancelled, owing to some mistake:

"June 2nd.

"I had a walk down town yesterday evening. Then I came back and called at the C.R.E. office to say good-bye to David Morgan. He was in—writing letters—and I stayed a few minutes; then he walked back with me part of the way. He wished me the best of luck. We both expressed a hope that the war would soon be over! 'What a life!' said Morgan.

"Leigh got up before 4 this morning, as his train up the line left soon after that. I got up at 6, and had breakfast. My kit was taken down to the New Siding Station where I had to report at 7.50. The place was, as usual, crowded with troops waiting to go up the line. There was a train full of Portuguese troops in the siding. I reported to the R.T.O. He said 'Get in officer's coach marked C, and get out at Béthune.' Then he suddenly discovered that my name was crossed out. 'I've got your name crossed off here; I don't think you are to go. You had better stand by a few minutes while I telephone and find out,' he remarked. He then telephoned to Headquarters and, after about ten minutes, the reply came through: 'Not to proceed.' There had been a mistake about the division or something. Anyhow, I was ordered to return to camp. So I told my man to take my kit back, and returned. The others went up the line. It is funny, isn't it? I am amused. I take all these changes with equal equanimity. I am quite agreeable whatever happens.... I know that whatever happens all will turn out right. I shall arrive at the right place at the right time. It is most interesting. I expect you will be pleased at the delay!

"When I got back I saw the Adjutant and reported to him. He was with the padre, an Irishman who was an officer in Carson's Ulster Volunteer Force, at the time. He was amused, and the padre said 'Lucky man!' So I have had a nice easy day, writing letters and strolling about....

"There are a whole crowd of Portuguese here now. A large number marched up from the station, with band playing, this morning. I find that the Portuguese troops pay more attention to saluting than do the French; I have received more salutes from Portuguese than from French; but I hear that the discipline of the Portuguese in the trenches is very bad indeed.

"I notice that it is announced in the paper to-day that a violent artillery bombardment is in progress between Ypres and the sea. There you are—that is the preliminary bombardment which always precedes a great battle in war of to-day."

"June 3rd.

"I am still here, and have heard nothing further about going up the line. The weather is still hot and fine—summer at its best. Yesterday evening I went down town as usual. When I got back I found some Portuguese officers in the mess. Everybody was talking French; it was amusing; but I soon disappeared to my tent. Macdonald left this tent some days ago; Leigh went up the line; —— took the latter's place: so now there are just —— and I in Tent 12. He returned slightly tight about 11, and talked a lot of stuff, telling me many stories of his lurid past! He seems to have been a gay undergraduate at Jesus College, Oxford, seventeen years ago; he is now thirty-eight. His home is in ——. His two children live there. He has a daughter fifteen and a son in the Cathedral choir. Yet he himself is a Quaker! And he is in the Army! He was present at the Battle of the Marne. He is a most quaint individual altogether.