war and the future-第19章
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arrival and at last the bang。 The Germans are blind now； they
have lost the air； they are firing by guesswork and their
knowledge of the abandoned territory。
〃They think they have got divisional headquarters there；〃 someone
remarks。。。。 〃They haven't。 But they keep on。〃
In this zone where shells burst the wise automobile stops and
tucks itself away as inconspicuously as possible close up to a
heap of ruins。 There is very little traffic on the road now
except for a van or so that hurries up； unloads； and gets back as
soon as possible。 Mules and men are taking the stuff the rest of
the journey。 We are in a flattened village； all undermined by
dug…outs that were in the original German second line。 We report
ourselves to a young troglodyte in one of these； and are given a
guide； and so set out on the last part of the journey to the
ultimate point； across the land of shell craters and barbed wire
litter and old and new trenches。 We have all put on British
steel helmets； hard but heavy and inelegant head coverings。 I
can write little that is printable about these aesthetic crimes。
The French and German helmets are noble and beautiful things。
These lumpish /pans。/。。
They ought to be called by the name of the man who designed
them。
Presently we are advised to get into a communication trench。 It
is not a very attractive communication trench； and we stick to
our track across the open。 Three or four shells shiver overhead；
but we decide they are British shells； going out。 We reach a
supporting trench in which men are waiting in a state of nearly
insupportable boredom for the midday stew； the one event of
interest in a day…long vigil。 Here we are told imperatively to
come right in at once； and we do。
All communication trenches are tortuous and practically endless。
On an offensive front they have vertical sides of unsupported
earth and occasional soakaways for rain； covered by wooden
gratings； and they go on and on and on。 At rare intervals they
branch； and a notice board says 〃To Regent Street；〃 or 〃To Oxford
Street；〃 or some such lie。 It is all just trench。 For a time
you talk； but talking in single file soon palls。 You cease to
talk； and trudge。 A great number of telephone wires come into
the trench and cross and recross it。 You cannot keep clear of
them。 Your helmet pings against them and they try to remove it。
Sometimes you have to stop and crawl under wires。 Then you
wonder what the trench is like in really wet weather。 You hear a
shell burst at no great distance。 You pass two pages of /The
Strand Magazine。/ Perhaps thirty yards on you pass a
cigarette end。 After these sensational incidents the trench
quiets down again and continues to wind endlesslyjust a sandy；
extremely narrow vertical walled trench。 A giant crack。
At last you reach the front line trench。 On an offensive sector
it has none of the architectural interest of first line trenches
at such places as Soissons or Arras。 It was made a week or so
ago by joining up shell craters； and if all goes well we move
into the German trench along by the line of scraggy trees； at
which we peep discreetly； to…morrow night。 We can peep
discreetly because just at present our guns are putting shrapnel
over the enemy at the rate of about three shells a minute； the
puffs follow each other up and down the line； and no Germans are
staring out to see us。
The Germans 〃strafed〃 this trench overnight； and the men are
tired and sleepy。 Our guns away behind us are doing their best
now to give them a rest by strafing the Germans。 One or two men
are in each forward sap keeping a look out； the rest sleep； a
motionless sleep； in the earthy shelter pits that have been
scooped out。 One officer sits by a telephone under an earth…
covered tarpaulin； and a weary man is doing the toilet of a
machine gun。 We go on to a shallow trench in which we must
stoop； and which has been badly knocked about。。。。 Here we have
to stop。 The road to Berlin is not opened up beyond this point。
My companion on this excursion is a man I have admired for years
and never met until I came out to see the war； a fellow writer。
He is a journalist let loose。 Two…thirds of the junior British
officers I met on this journey were really not 〃army men〃 at all。
One finds that the apparent subaltern is really a musician； or a
musical critic； or an Egyptologist； or a solicitor； or a cloth
manufacturer； or a writer。 At the outbreak of the war my guide
dyed his hair to conceal its tell…tale silver； and having been
laughed to scorn by the ordinary recruiting people； enlisted in
the sportsmen's battalion。 He was wounded； and then the
authorities discovered that he was likely to be of more use with
a commission and drew him； in spite of considerable resistance；
out of the firing line。 To which he always returns whenever he
can get a visitor to take with him as an excuse。 He now stood
up； fairly high and clear； explaining casually that the Germans
were no longer firing； and showed me the points of interest。
I had come right up to No Man's Land at last。 It was under my
chin。 The skyline； the last skyline before the British could
look down on Bapaume； showed a mangy wood and a ruined village；
crouching under repeated gobbings of British shrapnel。 〃They've
got a battery just there； and we're making it uncomfortable。〃 No
Man's Land itself is a weedy space broken up by shell craters；
with very little barbed wire in front of us and very little in
front of the Germans。 〃They've got snipers in most of the
craters； and you see them at twilight hopping about from one to
the other。〃 We have very little wire because we don't mean to
stay for very long in this trench； but the Germans have very
little wire because they have not been able to get it up yet。
They never will get it up now。。。。
I had been led to believe that No Man's Land was littered with
the unburied dead； but I saw nothing of the sort at this place。
There had been no German counter attack since our men came up
here。 But at one point as we went along the trench there was a
dull stench。 〃Germans； I think；〃 said my guide； though I did not
see how he could tell。
He looked at his watch and remarked reluctantly； 〃If you start at
once； you may just do it。〃
I wanted to catch the Boulogne boat。 It was then just past one
in the afternoon。 We met the stew as we returned along the
communication trench； and it smelt very good indeed。。。。 We
hurried across the great spaces of rusty desolation upon which
every now and again a German shell was bursting。。。。
That night I was in my flat in London。 I had finished reading
the accumulated letters of some weeks； and I was just going
comfortably to bed。
IV。 NEW ARMS FOR OLD ONES
1
Such are the landscapes and method of modern war。 It is more
difficult in its nature from war as it was waged in the
nineteenth century than that was from the nature of the phalanx
or the legion。 The nucleus factwhen I talked to General Joffre
he was very insistent upon this pointis still as ever the
ordinary fighting man； but all the accessories and conditions of
his personal encounter with the fighting man of the other side
have been revolutionised in a quarter of a century。 The fighting
together in a close disciplined order； shoulder to shoulder；
which has held good for thousands of years as the best and most
successful fighting； has been destroyed； the idea of
/breaking/ infantry formation as the chief offensive
operation has disappeared； the cavalry charge and the cavalry
pursuit are as obsolete as the cross…bow。 The modern fighting
man is as individualised as a half back or a centre forward in a
football team。 Personal fighting has become 〃scrapping〃 again；
an individual adventure with knife； club； bomb； revolver or
bayonet。 In this war we are working out things instead of
thinking them out； and these enormous changes are still but
imperfectly apprehended。 The trained and specialised military
man probably apprehends them as feebly as anyone。
This is a thing that I want to state as emphatically as possible。
It is the pith of the lesson I have learnt at the front。 The
whole
