LAI^D AND WATER 
September 18, 1915. 
A NIGHT MARCH IN FRANCE. 
By An 
ONE more day has come and gone in that trench 
Hfe which is the normal existence of so many 
men these times. Alltliemorningtiiesunshone 
placidly — and most people sle[)t— and in the 
afternoon our guns began a concert which 
reached a crescendo about four o'clock. The enemy 
replied, but in a minor Uey, and it seemed ratlier doubt- 
ful whether either side did the otiier any damage in 
particular. Then, as the bombardment was dying down, 
there arose a thunderstorm accompanied by lightning 
and mighty gusts of wind and rain, through all of which 
the guns boomed continuously. Finally the setting sun 
peeped out upon a wet world, and all the khaki folk 
came swarming forth from their dug-outs and shelters 
like so many rabbits from their holes. It was packing- 
up time. For as scKjn as it should be dark we were to 
move out of the trenches into billets. 
All the small litter that had accumulated during five 
days was now thrown upon the fires, the dug-outs were 
cleared of their contents, and the men began to get 
dressed. And what a collection of things some of them 
had — all their worldly goods ! Some of them carried 
sandbags full of valued trifles and others were decorated 
at every point of vantage so as greatly to resemble a 
Christmas-tree. Once ready, they formed up in file 
along the support trench, only the sentries remaining 
on the watch, and awaited the arrival of the relieving 
party. 
Silence was enjoined — no smoking. Dusk had not 
long fallen when stealthy footsteps were heard approach- 
ing along the road. Presently the familiar muffled 
forms of the soldiers appeared, each figure showing 
momentarily against the sky as it clambered into the 
trench. One by one they filed in and silently took their 
places alongside our men. When the sentries have been 
relieved and the incoming officer-in-charge shown the 
results of the work done on the trenches, wire entangle- 
ments, and parapets, we begin to move out in the same 
silent way. First along a deep ditch half-full of water, 
then behind a stout sandbag breastwork which presently 
crosses the road. Much encumbered with mud and 
weeds, in places it is a mere pathway. To-night we have 
the advantage of a deep blue gloaming, accompanied by 
a light veil of mist rising from the ground. Not a shot 
is fired, though everybody takes care to hurry along in 
small groups. 
The fields lie dark and uninviting on either hand. 
The white skeleton of some ruined building which may 
have been a cottage or a farmhouse stares out of tli3 
gathering darkness. The ground rises slightly and 
presently we are at the cross-roads, where numerous 
bodies of troops, just relieved like ourselves from the 
trenches, are moving this way and that. Here the com- 
pany is formed up and told off, while the remainder of 
the battalion with the transport takes its place in rear. As 
soon as possible the column moves off in fours, and the 
men light their cigarettes and talk. It is now pitch dark 
Little can be seen on either hand but a foot or so of mud. 
But suddenly, as we emerge from the houses on to higher 
ground, a great glare in the sky ahead confronts our 
eyes. In the midst of it, though far away, one can dis- 
cern through the various obstacles of distance a sugges- 
tion of bright flames leaping upward 
Evidently it is the village of burning, set 
ahght no doubt by the bombardment of the German 
guns this afternoon. For they had been firing at lone 
range and it was hard to tell what their objective mieht 
hLn r ""'^ ^^^'^"^^d so the glare in the sky became 
broader and broader and presently we could distinguish 
Ic?.,. 1^ '^°' °^ '^^'"^ '" '^^ ^^"t--^ °f ^^ ^l>er« the fire 
aciuaiiy was. 
Hplfi! ^'^'^ "^o^^^ent we ran into a great body of troops. 
Halted along the road they were in column of rou°e, 
ong lines of infantry, guns, and transport. As may be 
supposed, the narrow country byway and the cross-roads 
J6 
Officer. 
further on were terribly congested, and it was all we 
could do to make any headway. Mounted orderlies were 
constantly riding down the column shouting to " ]\Iake 
way! make way!" while staff motor-cars and trans- 
port wagons occupied a great deal of space. We pushed 
on by fits and starts. 
For we had run into part of the Canadian 
Division marching down to the trenches for the first 
time. To-night tliev would go into billets just behind 
the trenches and to-morrow take up the line which they 
afterwards so gallantly held. 
All this busy scene with its kaleidoscopic effects of 
bronzed faces — dark and almost Indian some of them — 
and strange dialects, horses, guns, vehicles, and men 
was lit up magnificently by the glare of the burning 
village. I have often thought that Detaille or Verest- 
chagin would rejoice could they have recorded such 
scenes as these, the little incidental cameos of war. 
They would have painted the faces half-turned, showing 
the full and rounded profile so typical of the Canadians; 
the smiling faces, the faces set and grim, the tired, mud- 
stained faces in endless succession from front to rearj 
they would have made a feature, perhaps, of the men on 
horseback whose figures — the rifle slung across the back, 
the collar of the great-coat turned up — were silhouetted 
picturesquely against the red glare on the horizon i 
they would have shown the artillerymen grouped around 
their guns, and the long wet streaks in the muddy road, 
the tall upright poplars here and, there, and beyond all 
the brilliant spot of flame where the homes of the 
peasantry burned. 
It was a picture with an historic significance not 
soon to be forgotten, although at the time there was 
much cursing among the soldiers on account of the delay 
in our journey " home." " Hullo! kiddo, " said the 
Canadians, and much chaff passed between the two 
bodies of men. By degrees we threaded our way through 
the columns of troops which were converging from 
various roads, and were then held up by an almost inter- 
minable train of motor-lorries, whose brilliant head- 
lights dazzled the eyes. Once beyond these, we could 
swing along again, and the men broke into their 
favourite marching songs : " Who's Your Lady 
Friend? " the song about the high road and the low 
road, " On the Mississippi," and so forth, alternating 
with the eternal question, " Are we downhearted ? " and 
the inevitable answer, "No." Always ahead of us, 
nearer and nearer, beckoned the burning village, so 
close now that we seem to be walking into it until pre- 
sently we turn sharp to our right down a side-road. 
Half a dozen friendly pipers from a Highland regi- 
ment come out from their billets playing a compli- 
mentary air on their bagpipes; and so we march in to 
supper and bed. 
A useful shilling handbook for military men has been 
juat brought out by the Aldine Publishing Company on 
'' Eevolyers and Pistols and How to Use Them." The author 
is Mr. Frank Bennett, who mentions in his introduction that 
his primary object was to bring together the more important 
particulars of all single-hand firearms, and also to embody 
hinta which may be of use even to practised pistol-shots. 
The manual is carefully compiled, and contains a great deal 
of most useful information, and is illustrated by diagrams. 
What is the best Fountain Pen for Active Service' 
Opinions will difiFer, but all admit that the new military 
model of the Onoto, which Messrs. Thomas de la Rue have 
just placed upon the market, is most difficult to beat. It can 
be obtained from any of the big stores, or from stationers or 
jewellers. When clospd, the Onoto is a sealed tube. There 
is no fear of the ink spilling, and it fits comfortably into the 
bottom of the regulation tunio pocket. And it only costs 
half a guinea in black vulcanite, and is always sent out filled 
with ink ready for use. 
