iS 
LAND & WATER 
August 
!4, 19 16 
Furloughs Among the Fells 
By William T. Palmer 
ONE and all we are this year living under military 
conditions. The aforetime summer holiday 
which allowed three or four weeks by the sea or 
among the hills, has shrunk into a hardly won 
furlough of as many days. Yet one can cover a good 
deal of picturesque Britain and get a good deal of pleasure 
in that short span of time. Most of our young men need 
trouble little about new equipment this season. The 
khaki uniform, puttees and strong boots issued by the 
War Office are ideal for rough-country walking. Only 
when definite rock-climbs are to be aimed at is there need 
for Alpine nails, and for most occasions a light cane is as 
good in assisting the balance on broken ground as the 
stoutest alpenstock. The tiny kit now considered 
necessary for the fell-walker can be stowed in a simple 
service haversack. It is wonderful indeed how many 
things a .spell in the ranks has proxed to be mere luxuries. 
Simpler Tastes 
In the matter of cash circumstances are very different. 
Formerly ten or fifteen pounds was put aside and royally 
spent. One's journey from the railway -was per coach or 
carriage, and a large Gladstone was e.Kpensi\-e to lill 
and to convey. Similarly on the return journey a decent 
sum of money was thrown away. And, of course, one 
ne\'(^r dreams of walking by dusty roads a dozen miles 
to some distant hills. Now, for the most part, our boys 
ha\e only the scanty pay and allowances of Tommy Atkins 
and casual pennies have to be hoarded to make a sum 
nameable only in shiUings. It was a sharp reminder of 
one's \ery junior days to meet quite recently a soldier 
enjoying a furlough tramp through the most delectable 
parts of the English Lake District with less than a sovereign 
in his pocket. " When I was earning good money I 
never could afford the trip up here," he said, " and now," 
gloating over the little pile of silver, " I'm satisfied at 
doing it large on less money than I used to spend in a 
day at the seaside." I have bivouacked again and again 
in hill rambles, but scarcely from choice as this good 
man was doing. He was of the stuff of the heroes, never 
sleeping under a roof in his four days out. 
Luckily the war has made tastes simpler all round. 
The holiday-maker feels no necessity to spend money on 
coach or motor drives, on this or that distant excursion 
by land or by sea. In his months of training he has 
become inured to the long route-march in heavy kit, to 
early rising, to long hours in the open air. He has lived 
dow'n the martyrdom of heat headaches which has spoilt 
so many peace-time holidays. Living in companies, 
battalions, regiments, armies, for so long our soldier lads 
ha\e gained a hearty dislike for crowds, a taste for elbow- 
room without infringing on the rights of others. And in 
these circumstances a furlough among the fells has many 
attractions. Up there the folks don't expect the soldier 
to he continually spending money, to be oh the ache 
after unaccustomed and expensive luxuries. They will 
listen to the suggestion of a bread-and-cheese luncheon, 
to plain fare all the time. The grand hotels, the pretty- 
pretty ])romenades, the motor-runs, theatres and fancy 
music halls are left to those with money to burn. The 
rottage by the lane-side, the farm in the deep dale, are the 
best furlough headquarters. 
Early Hours 
Few men are willing to slack away the short hours of 
their leave. They are up to share the porridge of the 
early shepherd, and on the hill-tops in the pride of morn- 
ing. What a change from the ancient ten o'clock start 
habit ! I-Vom s"unrise to the ordinary breakfast hour is 
the time for magnificent views, for cool, sweet air which 
almost intoxicates. Early day is indeed the time to 
see the hills, to watch the massing of the shadows, to 
note the coming of strong colours and contrasts. There 
is then a special delight, an uplift of heart and mind in 
wandering from height to height, dependent on no man 
and for once compelled to obey no man's orders. One's 
heart indeed leaps to the freedom of the hills. 
Having had so much of company our furlough men 
seem to delight in solitude, in what Matthew Arnold has 
called " the cheerful silence of the fells." Last summer 
I met by a mountain well an AustraUan, who, in the course 
of our chat, confessed that he had always desired to make 
a run through the Old Country, visiting historic places, 
great modern cities — just the things the books had painted 
to him from childhood. But after dusty Egypt and the 
blood-stained hills of Gallipoli liis inclination turned 
aside, and he would just walk through some pretty bit of 
England. ' 
" Yes," he concluded, " with these glorious hills 
and \alleys, with the line green fields and woodlands 
one has no need for cantering horse or throbbing motor 
car to see the best of the land. The bits of the picture 
are so near together that only the man on foot sees their 
real beauty." 
There is something contrasty about the ideas of another 
furlough-man. " I came up here for quiet, and I ha\e 
got it. Except for yourself I haven't spoken a dozen 
words to any one person since I left the railway three 
days ago." But he was a sergeant whose chief duty was 
the drilling of recruits. 
No wonder he was tired of hearing 
his own voice. 
On the hillside abo\'e the camp I met a merry little 
fellow. " 'As I come up 'ere to see the sunset ? 
No blooming fear. I came up so as I could have a 
real loud grouse at everything. Wonder you didn't 
hear me calling a few pretty things about our captain. 
They just made the tree tops jump, I can tell you." 
Mixed motives, no doubt. How much more pleasant 
is it to find a party of khaki-clad men — some with the 
King's commission maybe, and others from the ranks — 
met together once again to enjoy the pleasures so diffe- 
rently regarded in peace-time. These parties are more or 
less adept rock-climbers, and one hears the clink of 
their nailed boots, their calls and signals in many a rugged 
recess and on many a lofty spire of the mountains. 
Indeed the furlough-man, with or without pre\ious 
experience, finds in rock-climbing and scrambling up 
steep and rugged slopes a sport to his heart. His fine 
physical condition makes him delight in the labour : his 
nerves are also at their best so that the haunting gulf 
just past his right toe— that terrifying vertical view 
which upsets so many aspirants — is merely an added 
pleasure. Why indeed worry about the consequences 
of a fall when hands and feet are at sound grips with 
the crags. ; 
Recuperative Value 
Another set of men appreciate their furloughs among 
the fells. These are the convalescents from 'wound? 
received in action. What a change the clean air and 
homely food of the fells from the monotonous army 
rations and the choking dust of Northern France. What 
a pleasure in casting aside the trammels of the hospital 
for the glorious freedom of the hills. And the effect-— 
here is an actual letter : 
" You will see from my address that 1 am back to 
duty. My splendid holiday in the Lake District.worked 
wonders, and my medical board sent me to my Res. 
Bn. for two months' light duty. ... In spite of my 
injury I managed to " bag " a number of the higher 
fells." . . . Rock-climbing is still beyond me. but 
given plenty of time I can manage any amount of fell- 
walking, and having to go slowly, one has far better 
opportunities of seeing the fells. I had a wonderful 
experience of a thunderstorm whilst on Scafell Pike ! 
It was grand ! " 
Certain incidents in my wanderings warn me that 
mention must be made of the fells as equally charming to 
our harassed women folk. They may feel that their 
particular hero is a private, almost exclusive possession 
of their own, a jewel in their lives which all too soon will 
be snatched to a dangerous duty overseas. To such 
there is companionship, there is solace in the calm majesty 
of the Eternal Fells. 
