34 
LAND & WATER 
An Untrue Tale 
By Bqyd Cable 
May 25, 191 6 
THIS is not a True Story. Rather I wish to state 
that it is utterly aiidi absolutely untrue, that the 
incident it relates has not to my knowledge the 
slightest foundation in fact, that the characters 
in it arc entirely fictitious, that the nations to which 
they are supposed to belong are non-existent, that the 
jxTsons, their doings, and conversations, everything 
whatsoever hereinafter told or suggested — except that 
" there is a war on " — is the outcome of nothing but my 
own imagination or invention. You may find people 
who will say the story is true ; you may even lind people 
who will say they told it to me ; but I deny it and them, 
and repeat— the story is untrue. Having made this 
comprehensive and emphatic statement, because other- 
wise a great and friendly nation might imagine it and its 
citi/.ens were being hinted at, and because the Censor 
might on that very account be inclined to prohibit publi- 
cation, I will proceed with the untrue story. 
Once upon a time the Government of Great Asterisk, 
believing that the great and friendly United Hyphens 
might be still more friendly to it if they thought it was 
going to win the war, invited a number of United Hyphen 
newspaper men to make a tour of the battle front and 
see just how well affairs were going. The Asterisk 
Staff at the Front were asked to show as much hospitality 
and as many dead enemies as possible to the newspaper 
men, to take every care of them, to see they did not get 
their feet wet, and to return them safely, carriage paid, 
This Side Up With Care, and so on, as soon as might be. 
Ttie Staff, of course, were delighted. They always 
are delighted, but in this case we are especially sure 
they were, because they themselves told the newspaper 
men so. They dined and wined the paper men well, 
surprisingly well remembering it was at the Front ; they 
toured them round in motor cars ; they allowed them to 
shap-shot ruined churches and many pictures of motor 
transport well behind the lines. And at last they sent 
them to a portion of the Front where they were to be 
allowed to go right up into the forward firing trenches, 
to look out through periscopes on to the Hun trenches, 
to risk their precious lives moderately, but sufiiciently 
to allow them to write convincingly thrilling accounts 
of shrieking shells and whistling bullets, and perhaps 
even to acquire (at so much per) Hun helmets and other 
interesting souvenirs. 
The portion of Front where an introduction to the 
shrieking shells and crashing explosions, etc., was to be 
effected was on a stretch occupied by a battalion of 
overseas troops, a battalion of the Princess Pipactoc's 
Cacnacdonac Infantry. The paper men were motored 
up in the very early morning to a village a few thousand 
yards behind the forward trenches and were first shown 
a Cacnacdonian battery of heavy artillery in a position 
tucked away amongst the broken houses and a ruined 
rose garden. 
The artillery were kind and hospitable to a point of 
precious rye whisky, a tour of the gun emplacements, 
dug-outs and underground telephone exchange, and a 
hearty invitation to lunch. The correspondents 
accepted all these things as by divine right and apparently 
without any inkling that the irruption of seven or eight 
\isitors into a normal mess of about five might in any 
way strain the mess resources. The staff officer who 
was doing Cook's guide to the party, however, had laid 
in provision for a lunch, and relieved the situation by 
taking aside the subaltern who, as " Mess Secretary, " 
was responsible for catering arrangements, and handing 
over to him the extra provisions. 
Lunch was eaten in an unusually commodious cellar 
which was the Battery's Mess Room, and during and 
after the meal rye whisky and thrilling stories circulated 
freely. The. correspondents were out for " stuff " and 
" stories," and a lead having been very gravely given 
by the Battery Commander in a wonderful talc of how 
the battery, not wishing to damage a certain building 
behind the German fines, had "destroyed- the rCiermans 
inside the house without knocking a, chip! off ^ the walls 
by shooting shells at 'about two - miles range : carefully 
and accurately through the windows, the other officers 
played up nobly and provided those correspondents with 
material enough to fill -their editors with joy and the- 
Front (if it could have read the talcs) witli an unholy joy. 
It was shortly after lunch was finished that a ])eculiar 
moaning, rushing noise was heard. It grew rapidly 
louder, and before the correspondents, lifting their heads 
and glancing about them inquiringly at each other, could 
ask the question each meant to ask, there was an earth- 
shaking crash that set the cellar walls shivering. A 
subaltern had slid from his seat at the first, note of the 
rising sound and stepped to the telephone in the passage, 
and for the next few minutes the correspondents could 
hear him talking into the instrument. He was merely 
kepping. in 'touch with the dug-out at the Battery to be 
sure that the wire to it was uncut and that the officer 
in charge tliere had nothing unusual to ' report, but 
presently one of the correspondents asked who was the 
'phone through to. "It's only Pippy having a talk to 
Divisional Headquarters," he was informed by the 
subaltern sitting next' Mm. " He"'s. asking what the 
orders are if any of you people are casualtied, or what 
we're to do with the bodies if you're killed." 
The correspondent (whom I shall call Hesketh P. 
Tubbs, because that is utterly unlike his real — or rather 
vvhat would have been his real name if this had been a 
true story) a stoutishman, with a ner\'ous manner and an 
obviously abnormal appetite and capacity for lunch and 
thrilling stories, gazed at his informant with an expression 
of amazement that grew rapidly to one of alarm as another 
shell banged down uproariously somewhere outside. 
" B-but can a sh-shell touch us in here ? " he demanded, 
and for the next fen minutes had to endure a technical 
description of the effects of a high-explosive detonating 
on or piercing the roof and exploding inside a room or 
cellar, , a yi\id word picture of some illustrating incidents 
the subaltern could recall from his past experiences, and 
an accompaniment of the rising moan-rush-crash of 
falling shells. Mr. Tubbs listened to it all, holding his 
breath and rounding his eyps during each whistling rush, 
winking: and gulping convulsively at each crash. His 
note-book and pencil lay neglected on the table in front 
of him, although most of the others were very busily 
engaged scribbling in theirs. 
When the shelling stopped about "fifteen minutes later, 
the Major informed the party that this was merely a 
normal and expected mid-day " straff " which was now 
in all probability finished. Allowing another five 
minutes for safety's sake, the party emerged from the 
cellar and inspected the fresh shell-craters with immense 
interest, and hunted for fragments of the shells as 
souvenirs with which to aggravate their less fortunate 
fellows on their return to Fleet Street. Mr. Tubbs had 
left the cellar with considerable reluctance, and was 
closely accompanied by the subaltern who. dining the 
hunt for shell fragments, assured Mr. Tubbs that there 
was no need to bother about that now. 
" You're going up to the Observing Station in the 
trenches I hear," he said. " Well, you'll get stacks of 
shell splinters there. They have all sorts of shells banging 
in there most of the time." 
The information did not appear to afford the satis- 
faction to Mr. Tubbs which might ha\'e been expected, 
and when the time came for the party to set off on their 
walk to the trenches, Mr. Tubbs unfortunately had de- 
veloped a painful recurrence of a rheumaticky knee and 
did not feel up to the walk. He stuck to that despite 
his friends' persuasions, and was at last left behind, and 
retired to the cellar and the company —at intervals— of 
the Major, and —without intervals— of the rye whisky. 
He and the Major went down again to the guns when a 
call came on the 'phone and the officer on duty said that 
the Forward Observing Officer wanted a few rounds 
fired to let the correspondents watch the' shelling. 
Up at the Observing Station the party had to wait a 
little for the firing of the rounds, first because the officer 
at the Battery said that Mr. Tubbs was coming down 
and he was waiting for him, and later because an 
