A FRONT-LINE TRENCH, WITH SANDBAG PARAPET
The unit detailed for work in the front line of a given sector was, by the irony of words, "resting," or partly resting—which means that it was quartered among ruins in cantonments partially destitute of resources, a long way from the workshops to which it had to find its way at night-fall. "Doing their bit" valiantly, sustained by a self-confidence which never deserted them, the men showed on all occasions the greatest goodwill, and—despite certain reports to the contrary—unfailing good humour. They grumbled a good deal, goodness knows; and who would not have done the same in their place? But they kept going, enduring hard labour and privation, under the stimulus of a burning desire to punish the enemy who was responsible for all the troubles that afflicted them.
Clad in the most weird and often deplorable clothes, these men trudged along through the darkness of the night, over muddy tracks and sodden roads, towards the marshy belt of flooded meadows. This tramp through the night was a real penance. At every step the men stumbled in the heavy and sticky mud, over displaced cobbles or in shell-holes brimming with water. They had to struggle along in this fashion, sometimes for hours on end, to reach the "material depôts" where such sand-bags, stakes, corrugated iron sheets, barbed wire and tools as could be got together were distributed among them. To-day there is an abundance of all these things; but at the time of which we write supplies were very short, and one had to get along as best one could with anything that came to hand in a haphazard way which now seems pitiable.
However, what did it matter? Carrying loads which added to the difficulties of progress, the men plodded along almost indistinguishable paths and tracks where the least slip threatened to send them headlong into deep mud. Extreme caution was needed to avoid rousing the enemy. Lights were constantly thrown up from his lines, flooding the dreary country with their pale radiance. When one rose, the men instantly threw themselves flat in the mire. Occasionally the column would be surprised before it could take cover, and be subjected to bursts of machine-gun fire. In this way many brave fellows died an obscure death while performing one of the most thankless and disagreeable tasks imaginable.
On reaching the scene of action, the men set to work, forgetting their fatigue in the anxiety to add their quotum to that done on the previous night before daylight should return; raising and consolidating the frail rampart of sandbags, building fresh shelters or arranging the auxiliary defences in front of the trenches.
What words can fitly describe the patience, courage and endurance of these workers, perpetually overlooked by the enemy, toiling to exhaustion under the fire of machine-guns trained on our lines, exposed to death-dealing bombs, a single one of which would sometimes nullify the efforts of a whole night or burst like a thunder-clap in the midst of a group of men, scattering death and horrible wounds?
No suffering, however, could break their indomitable will. Admirable they were and are. Nothing could be more touching than the self-sacrificing spirit which animated these heroes. They had not even the satisfaction of being able to return blow for blow, to increase their keenness and energy. On the contrary, they knew that death threatened them, not while rifle in hand and drunk with the madness of the fray, but while ingloriously wielding a common trenching-tool.
This dreadful life lasted for weeks and months on end. Think of the exhaustion of it, when the same men had to work every night, then take their turn on guard in the trenches without any chance of getting a really refreshing sleep! Later on, the bringing of the regiments up to full strength and the advanced condition of the work fortunately made it possible to arrange a judicious rotation of duty. Nevertheless, our men have never been able to consider their job quite done, since on the Belgian front one has constantly to reconstruct, repair, even entirely rebuild, fortifications damaged by the enemy's fire or by water—that second foe which is often more destructive than the first.
The best means of arriving at a due appreciation of the perseverance shown by the Belgian troops and of the time required for the completion of their task, is a numerical statement of the work actually achieved. We may note that the whole front organised by the Belgian Army extends for about 31 kilometres (19¼ miles), as measured along the front line of trenches; also, that this system of continuous or discontinuous positions has a great depth, and that each position is made up of several lines, one behind the other, their number varying according to tactical requirements or topographical conditions.