There will be another sentry here and he will show you the way to the communication trench unless your work is of some special nature and you have a pass that entitles you to walk on and risk it.
As soon as the trench zone is reached notices and signboards are more frequent than ever. In addition to our own direction posts and trench names there are also, frequently, relics of the French occupation. Vers le Front, Vers l’Arrière, or the names of communication and fire trenches, such as Boyau Rideau, Tranchée Illot.
Again as we approach the firing line the remarks of the wag and the humorist are more frequent. In one place there is a board with a finger pointing to a peculiarly unhealthy sap and inscribed—To The War! A frequently shelled trench junction bears the legend—Don’t Stand About Here—There’s A War On!
The signpost To Berlin is of course common—or was.
Many of the dug-outs bear fantastic names and, in addition to notices giving the designation of those who occupy them, often have other inscriptions, hospitable or otherwise, such as Dew Drop Inn or No Room Here. Those with a double entrance sometimes display the most fearful threats to those who would attempt to go in by the ‘out’ passage, whereas some such remark as The Only Way is inscribed over the correct entrance.
It must be remarked, however, that any apparent inhospitality is usually in the interests of the service—the nearer one gets to the front line the more hospitable are the Messes.
The mural decorations of the dug-outs are also worthy of more than superficial notice, as they often reflect the interests or character of the occupants. The pretty faces of ‘Harrison Fisher,’ ‘Philip Boileau,’ and other girls smile at one from the walls of many of these abodes, and Bairnsfather pictures caricaturing the very scenes of the life going on outside are to be seen everywhere. Grim pictures of the war from the pen of Matania and other artists may be found in the dug-outs of some of the more serious-minded, while others show their hankering after yachting, shooting, or racing. A total of many thousands of square feet of wall space must be taken up by cuttings from the ‘Vie Parisienne,’ and in many cases, more especially in the French lines, the occupant himself has been responsible for the pictures and designs in his quarters.
The enemy, too, has his notice boards, and some of them are written and stuck up on the parapet for our benefit or otherwise. Insulting remarks are not infrequently displayed in this way. Sometimes he brags about some big gun he is bringing up to shell our back billets with, sometimes we are told that he is quite ready for our attack on such and such a date—information which is usually incorrect. The German notice with which continental travellers were, perhaps, most familiar before the war is conspicuous by its absence—Nicht Hinauslehnen; it would, however, be a most appropriate warning for visitors to the trenches!
On captured ground some of the German notices and signs still remain, but many have been replaced. A spot which had once been used by the Germans as a dump for stores is now labelled—Fritz’s Dump—Under Entirely New Management!