May ^, 1916 
LAND & WATER 
Waste 
By Charles W. Simpson 
15 
A GLOOMY, unwashed man in a dirty uniform 
sat on a luggage trolley, notebook in hand. He 
looked up as the engine whistled and the long, 
heavily-freighted train, with its load of 
ammunition, began to move out of the station. The 
trucks and wagons jerked noisily as the couplings 
tightened ; a roaring cloud of steam shot forth in front 
of the engine and spread, slowly fading, across the rails. 
The gloomy man scribbled something in his note- 
book and got up uneasily ; he was the officer in command 
of the supply depot. When he raised his hand there 
was another whistle ; a fresh engine left the sidings and 
was coupled to another row of trucks on the main line. 
As each train left, the officer stared after it for a few 
moments, until it had partly disappeared in the dariip, 
heavy fog that lay thickly across the line and necessitated 
the use of the great arc-lights in the goods-yard ; then 
he turned and looked towards the crowded sidings. 
Tedious work, this slow procession of trains — each 
one seeming to diminish by so little the mass of wagons 
awaiting their departure ; but, if it was slow, there was 
method in the slowness, and gradually the sidings became 
less congested. 
Drivers and firemen w"cnt about their work apathe- 
tically, in no way disturbed by the confusion that un- 
avoidably ensued in handling this huge mass of rolling 
stock. Mostly civilians, they were merely carrying out 
their habitual duties, and were insusceptible to the 
strain and stress of war. 
There was little rest for anyone at the supply depot, 
from the officer in command to the platelayers and fatigue 
gangs. All the stores of food, forage, and ammunition 
were to be rushed out of the junction, and conveyed 
to a point — not expressly mentioned — somewhere up the 
main line. Besides the rows of already laden trucks, 
huge piles of flour sacks were stored imder shelters roofed 
with iron sheeting in the goods-yard ; stacks of hay and 
straw, covered with tarpauling, bulked up in the mist ; 
and beyond them were ramparts of crates and cases of 
every description — tons of frozen meat and tinned 
stuffs ; rations enough to keep an army in the field for 
weeks. It was a giant's task to move this mountain 
of supplies, and the energy with which it was being 
attempted indicated a crisis calling for supreme effort. 
The O.C. left his seat on the trolley for the fiftieth 
time, walked down the platform and stopped at the door 
of the station master's office. In response to his call a 
slim youth with a small black moustache that grew very 
close under his nose and avoided his upper lip altogether, 
came briskly to the doorway — it was clear that he was 
not a railway official. In shirt sleeves, a pencil stuck 
behind one ear and papers bulging from his pockets, he 
was still an unmistakable jimior sub., of callously cheerful 
demeanour in spite of the dark rings under his eyes. 
" Tick off the ammunition as done with," said the 
senior officer ; " and now," he added sa^•agely, " we've 
got to clear out the grub." 
"Right, sir!" answered the sub. brightly. "The 
swine won't find much left here if we go on at this rate, 
will they ? " he chuckled with glee. " Poor hungry devils 
swotting their hides off to get here in time, and then — 
er " casting about for some felicitous phrase — " an empty 
cage — bird flown." He chuckled again. 
" Let me sec the lists," said the other, immo\ed bv 
the spirit of pleasantry : " we must look sharp. What 
comes next ? Ah, yes ; thirty truck-loads of barley, 
and forty of wheat, besides the stock in the yard " 
As the two men stood in the doorway of the office, 
a third, who v.as pacing rapidly up the platform, ap- 
proached them. He pulled up sharply, and taking a 
quick glance round the station shrugged his shoulders 
with an air, half of indecision and half of impatience. 
He turned to the O.C. 
" Look here, old chap ; can you finish the job in 
eight hours ? My men want to get to work on the line." 
The newcomer was very hot and very dusty ; his 
tunic and shirt were open, showing his chest glistening 
wi^h sweat-drops. In one hand he carried a larce ad- 
justable spanner ; his face and arms were smeared with 
black train-oil. 
" y/dl — j'ou can see what progress we've made," 
replied the officer : " those sidings were crowded this 
morning — and look at 'em now. " He waved his hand 
towards the goods-yard. 1 
" H'm yes ; but it's time we ripped up those rails," 
said the other, eyeing a maze of shining metals, cleared of 
trucks and wagons. " My gangs have been at work 
fourteen hours ; we've burnt thousands of sleepers, with 
rails stacked on top — Gad ! how they blazed, and thej''re 
still red-hot." 
" The rearguard struck camp this morning, and are 
now on the march in the wake of the army. I was given 
until midnight to clear all the supplies ; you can smash 
and burn the whole place then, you devil of destruction 
— make a bonfire as hot as hell, and then save your 
hides." The destroyer smiled, rubbing his chin thought- 
fully. 
"Ah, it'll be a fine sight," said he; "a deuce of a 
fine sight." 
" Fine sight ! " retorted the O.C.—" You've got no 
sentiment man. Blasted wrecker ! — Now then " he 
shouted to a driver as the next train began to roll out 
of the junction ; " full speed ahead— give her as much 
steam as she'll take." 
Then he left the office in company with the engineer, 
and the two men watched the scene from just outside the 
station. 
A dreary scene — one of those sights which, though 
not actually concerned with human misery, give an acute 
impression of the horror and desolation of war, and of 
that ghastly element in war — waste. 
Looking down the fine, the country was half oblitera- 
ted by the grey fog. Groups of men were moving among 
what at first sight appeared to be great piles of rubbish — 
a closer inspection showing that they were composed of 
rails and sleepers stacked together. Blots of dull red 
here and there showed that the piles were still smoulder- 
ing, and at times the charred wood broke away with a 
faint, muffled sound, or the hot metals cracked. A 
scarcely heard rumbling indicated that fires were yet 
burning in the centre of the piles. Further awav, colunms 
of smoke, flecked by shooting flames, rose from other 
bonfires. 
Picks rang on the broken railroad, where lines of men 
were working with rhythmic strokes. For miles round 
the earth was trodden by the hooves of horses and the 
feet of marching men, crimped by the wheels of guns and 
wagons — hedges and gateways demohshed, and grass 
borders stamped into mud. 
On the far ridges, the clearing mist mixed with the 
smoke of camp fires left by the retiring rearguard. 
"We've done pretty well, don't you think? Not 
the j oiliest sort of place to lead a starving army over is 
it? " 
The speaker buttoned his tunic and put the spanner 
in his pocket. 
" The dreariest spot I ever wish to sec " replied the 
other. " Come ; I must get back to my job — it's more 
irksome than yours. I wish I could set a match to my 
show and burn it up " he went on, in a mood of partlv 
assumed exasperation. " Better fun than sending off all 
these damned trains." 
" Ho, ho ! " said the engineer, " how about sentiment 
now ? Well ; I'd burn it if I had my way — but yours is 
no doubt the better method — only slow,' devilish slow. 
And I must say I want to light those straw stacks. Some 
reward for my labour then ; and oh lord ! — won't they 
half blaze ! " 
He laughed and cleared his throat. 
" I'll let you and your gang of incendiaries in by 
midnight — not any sooner, mind. Till then, so long." 
The O.C. walked back to his trolley on the platform. 
The Northern Army was changing its base. After 
three days' severe fighting, productive of no definite result, 
it had retired on the junction during the night, and its 
leader had resolved on a desperate course, Se\cn miles 
