December 2S, 1916 
LAND & WATER 
15 
How the Old Brigade Keeps Christmas 
By William T. Palmer 
JUST whore a railway threads its way through the 
mountains, a small squad of khaki-clad men 
are spending a lonely sort of Christmas. Mous- 
taches and hair streaked with grey, well set-up 
figures mark them as of The Old Brigade which re- 
turned to the colours two years ago. The sergeant, 
leaning back, lifts a curtain from a corner of a window : 
" Snowing again, boys : what a night it will be down 
on the great bridge by the sea." 
The Old Brigade are guarding- railway bridges, 
docks, aqueducts, factories, reservoirs, tunnels and rail- 
way junctions. The task was measured to them in 
the early days of the war, and well and faithfully has it 
been done. 
" Glad we've got that life-line out, boys. It will be 
needed to-night or I'm a Dutchman." 
Somewhere outside the sentry is pacing his lonely 
beat between l:)ridge and torrent, and a few yards of 
wandering would mean a fatal plunge. Listen to the 
growl as the door opens : clamorous, insistent, a terrible 
thing to hear nigbt and day in this tiny hut. The 
storm song of the sea is far less sinister than this. But 
storm or calm, summer noon or wintry midnight, the 
sentry-go continues without a pause. Over the great 
railway span a thousand stalwart youths are passing 
to-night, fully equipped for the battlefields of Franco. 
It is the honour of The Old Brigade to keep their 
passage safe. The old men are defending this artery 
against ignorance, wilfulness -and treachery. 
One sees the encampments of the Old Brigade in 
other stern and lonely quarters ; a quiet determined 
man patrols the great dam and works which provide 
a munitions town wth high pressure water for turbines 
and supplies. To-night his face is whipped by sleet 
and snow, and the rope-guard almost fails to keep him 
safe. Even an enemy would not dare the moors and 
waterside on such a night as this. 
Along the s'liore outside some port or shipbuilding 
centre one knows a figure is fighting his way against the 
storm. There is the harsh croon of the ocean beyond 
the outer bar -and every gust carries a curtain of spray 
into his face. On such a night no small craft dare ven- 
ture inshore, whatever its errand, but all the same the 
guard must ibe kept. 
At midnight, and again and again through the long 
hours of drirkness which stretch tpward dawn the ser- 
geant calls out this man and that to change guard, and 
the ritual is as punctiliously and fully observed as at 
the gates oi^ some great camp or regimental depot. 
The companies whose Christmas duties call them to 
factory guard are pleased at the change. Great gouts 
of furnaces, and forges may burst and glare, the storm 
may be thipk with acrid smoke and fumes, there may be 
lurking deaigers. But the Old Brigade rejoices that 
human bea\gs are within sight and 'sound ; here is no 
longer the dreary moor, the lonely shore. 
The houi-s pass on ; grey dawn steals across a cold 
world. The troop-train pauses a moment at the junction 
signals are -against her. A moment she halts, and the 
steam escap es begin to roar. A window here and there 
is lowered ciutiously, and strong voices call : 
" Merry Christmas, dad ; where arc we ? " 
" Ypres junction, lad. What 'I your regiment ? " 
"The ia4th Dragons, off to France." 
,r^°iJ^'^^^ ^^^ °^^ regiment. Merry Christmas, 
lads. The signal's dropped." 
And the legion of the young cheers the sturdy veteran 
standing at attention. He is guarding the cross-wav 
so that they may go on the King's service. 
Full day, and out of the snow whirl flings another train 
There is a sobbing of brakes, a steadying of pace as she 
passes up the long embankment to the great bridge over 
the river. Even on Christmas Day the ambulance trains 
pass softty. with their loads of wounded and sick from 
the zone of war. Xo doubt it is irregular, but the 
veteran sen.iry presents arms, and the sergeant at the 
door o£ the hut stiffens up to the salute. " I wonder— I 
wonder" is the thought of both, for both have sons in 
the peril which is called France. At any hour they 
may be stricken down, then by Fate's decree they may 
be whirled, all unknowingly, past this lonely guard-post 
ne.xt the river. 
At dinner the sergeant speaks : " Mj' third Christmas 
here in war-harness, boys. Yes, that's so. I'll soon be 
as much a fixture as the span, and as little heeded. I've 
seen service in India and Egypt and South Africa, but 
when real war came, one must be up, and among it. 
There's places livelier than this, but still we've had some 
good times and queer things here. Remember the old 
chap as went for the parson, with his bay'net cos he would 
give no password, nor yet stop when challenged ? Or 
the young fool as nearly got slugged because he thought 
it fun to creep about in the bushes one moonlight night ?" 
It was a holy near squeak for him, and he was lucky to 
get 'listed and out of the way. 
" Still, always glad to see the old Captain we are, but 
one don't expect him-down here in this muck. He's not 
so young as he was when I first knowed him, but he'll 
be no duffer in a scrimmage yet' — the same lad. I Christ- 
massed with him in the desert and away up in the Indian 
frontier. He always hated snipers and a holy time he 
used to give us, up all times of night and day to give 'cm 
special hell, we was. One night he rounded up his com- 
pany for a reconnaissance. The Pathans had been 
awful, and I noticed that his hand was in a blood-wet 
bandage ; some fanatic had tried to knife him within our 
lines. Big, powerful fellow was the captain then, fit to 
choke a bull. He made nought of a single-knife man 1 
can tell you — we found him with a broken neck at the 
bottom of a khud^ 
" We climbed all ni-^ht, this way and that, and got across 
the hue them Pathans took to their village, and gave 'em 
something. But coming back was a caution. The 
whole population was potting us from among the rocks, 
and we had more than one wounded chap to bring down 
a place like a wall. The captain he led, and took his 
turn at carrying at the most awkward bits — and there 
was plenty of 'em. Got the D.S.O. — Merry Christmas 
sir, never expected you to-day, sir. Nor her ladj'ship 
either. It's awful weather." 
The Old Brigade has loosened some of the bonds 
of discipline. " Don't turn out the guard, sergeant, I 
can see 'em quite well. I told Simpson not to warn you 
on purpose. Here are a few cigars and things. Merry 
Christmas, boys." 
After a kindly word to all, the Commanding Officer 
departs. He, too, has his worries, for the camps of the 
" Old Men " are far apart and communication is diffi- 
cult to keep up. 
Hour after hour passes. There is an incursion from a 
slightly elevated postman, then as night closes down, 
there is a drawing in to the stove, and the tiny, unadorned 
room is fragrant with the captain's cigars. There are 
moments of forced cheerfulness, long silences which 
speak of home thoughts. ' The wind howls again and 
round the staunch little hut is the slash of rain. The 
gramophone brays its wildest notes, but there is little 
response to its hilarity to-night. The sergeant looks 
up musing from his delicate handling of a new noodle 
and fresh disc ; " Three Christmasos, boys, at the span. 
H^e's to victory and Home, next Christmas." 
And the Old Brigade answers " Amen." 
Two small annual pocket-books have been published 
which deserve special mention. For the third year Mr. L. J. 
Maxse has issued his Potsdam Diary. It lacks the freshness 
of the first production, and the quotations do not always ring 
quite true. - Surely Bolingbroke is hardly a politician to be 
quoted approvingly at this juncture. Ths other diary is of 
more concrete value. It is issued by the P. & O. and B.I. S.N. 
Companies ; the two (now the one) most powerful British 
shipping companies in Far Eastern waters. The extent of 
their operations is shown in this pocket-book, and their 
Imperi;\l significance is testified to by the enormous subsidies 
paid to German steamship companies in the past in order to 
invade successfully the waters where Britisli ships once 
sailed unchallenged by Teuton flags. 
