Combed Out

Part 1

Note: Images of the original pages are available through the Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries. See http://www.archive.org/details/combedout00voiguoft

Transcriber's notes:

The author is listed as F.A.V. on the original title page. His full name was Fritz August Voigt, although he chose to be called Frederick.

Footnotes, being quite brief definitions, have been moved inline [like this].

COMBED OUT

F. A. V.

The Swarthmore Press Ltd. 72, Oxford Street, London, W.1.

1920

CONTENTS

PAGE. I.--SQUAD DRILL 1 II.--THE FATIGUE PARTY 9 III.--ON DETACHMENT 42 IV.--THE CASUALTY CLEARING STATION 53 V.--WALKING WOUNDED 74 VI.--AIR-RAIDS 90 VII.--THE GERMAN PUSH 109 VIII.--HOME ON LEAVE 127 IX.--ACROSS THE RIDGES 143 X.--THE ARMISTICE 155

"The silent, colossal National Lie that is the support and confederate of all the tyrannies and shams and inequalities and unfairnesses that affect the peoples--that is the one to throw bricks and sermons at."

(MARK TWAIN).

COMBED OUT

SQUAD DRILL

Our Sergeant looked at us contemptuously and we looked anxiously back at him. Then he gave his first instructions:

"Now I'm goin' ter show yer 'ow ter do squad drill. It's quite heasy--yer've only got ter use a bit o' common sense an' do hexac'ly as I tell yer. Now we'll start wi' the turns. When I gives the order Right Turn, yer turn ter yer right on yer right 'eel an' yer left toe. When I gives the order Left Turn, yer turn on yer left 'eel an' yer right toe. Now just 'ave a try an' see if yer can do it.--Squad!--now when I shouts Squad it's a word o' warnin', an' it means I want yer ter be ready ter go through yer evverlutions. Now then, yer s'posed ter be standin' to attention. That's not the way ter stand to attention--yer want ter use some common sense--when yer stand to attention, yer stand wi' yer chest out, yer stomach in, yer 'eads erect an' facin' to yer front, yer shoulders straight, an' yer 'ands 'angin' down by yer sides wi' yer thumbs along the seams o' yer trousers. Now then, Squad! Stand at Ease!... When I gives the order Stand at Ease, yer places yer feet about eighteen inches apart an' yer clasps yer 'ands be'ind yer backs, yer right 'and inside yer left, but yer mustn't look round or talk until I shouts Stand Easy! Now then, Stand at Ease!"

We obeyed the command with fair smartness, only a few stood awkwardly, not quite knowing what to do with their hands or doubtful whether their feet were really eighteen inches apart.

"That ain't so bad for a first shot," said the Sergeant, to our great relief. "Now, remember what I told yer about standin' to attention--when I gives the order Tshn! yer all springs smartly to attention. Now then, Squad--Tshn!... No, no, I wants it done smarter'n that. Stand at Ease! Now then, try agin: Tshn!--No, no, that ain't 'alf smart enough. Try agin. Stand at Ease!--Tshn! That's a bit better, it wants a lot o' improvin' though. Still, yer only a lot o' rookeys [recruits] an' yer can't learn everythink all at once. Now we'll 'ave a bit of a change an' try the turns."

We turned to the right, the left, and the right-about. We were all depressed or resentful and thinking of home. We performed the movements mechanically and repeated the same mistakes time after time. The Sergeant was losing patience. He glared at us and bawled out his orders. But the hour came to an end and we were dismissed for breakfast.

The breakfast interval seemed to pass like a flash. We were back on the parade ground, standing at ease. Another Sergeant approached us and yelled "Number Four Squad--Tshn!" We sprang to attention and stood rigidly erect, not daring to move. The roll was called and then the weary round of drill began again.

We marched up and down in response to commands that were barked at us in a sharp ringing voice. As the minutes and hours crept along we became sore-footed and thirsty, for the ground was hard and the sun very hot. From time to time we were allowed a brief respite. We would then sit down on the parched grass and feel the stiffness of our limbs and the burning in our flushed faces.

We learned to "form fours" and to "form two deep." We formed fours again and again, but someone was sure to make a mistake every time. Our Sergeant shouted abuse at us, but no one cared. We passed on to other movements. We "changed direction to the right" or to the left, we "formed squad," we advanced, we retired, we wheeled and turned and gyrated. The stultifying occupation dragged on as though it would never cease. Our sore feet, our aching limbs, the burning sun, and our clothes clammy with perspiration maddened us. Suddenly the man next to me began to sniff and a tear rolled down his cheeks. Our Sergeant observed him and shouted "Halt!" and said:

"Don't take it ter 'eart, yer'll soon get used to it. I know it's bloody awful at first. Fall out an' sit down a bit."

The man--a tall, elderly fellow, with dark hair and bushy eyebrows--left the ranks and flung himself down in the grass, sobbing violently.

"Pore bloke, 'tain't orften they're took as bad as that."

Five minutes ago we hated our Sergeant, but this sudden revelation of humanity on his part changed our attitude so completely that we felt ready to die for him. Moreover the interruption had distracted us, and the next half-hour passed very quickly. But gradually our physical discomfort reasserted itself. When at last the morning's drill was over we were so dispirited that we hardly felt any relief. We received the order "Dismiss," and flocked towards the mess-room where we formed a long queue.

We filed slowly in and passed by a trestle on which three foot-baths were standing. We held out our plates while a soldier in a grimy uniform ladled cabbage, meat and a greasy liquid on to them. We sat down on benches in front of tables that were littered with potato-peel, bits of fat, and other refuse. We were packed so closely together that we could hardly move our elbows. The rowdy conversation, the foul language, and the smacking of lips and the loud noise of guzzling added to the horror of the meal.

I was so repelled that I felt sick and could not eat. I sat back on the bench and waited. I observed that the man sitting opposite was watching me intently. Suddenly he asked: "Don't yer want it, mate?" I said "No," whereupon he exclaimed eagerly, "Giss it." A bestial, gloating look came into his face as he seized my plate and splashed the contents on to his own, so that the gravy overflowed and ran along the table in a thin stream. He took the piece of meat between his thumb and his fork and, tearing off big shreds with his teeth, gobbled them greedily down.

Part 2

We washed our plates outside the mess-room in a metal bath that held two or three inches of warm water. Others had used it before us, and it was thick with grease and little fragments of cabbage and fat were floating about in it. From a nail in the wall a torn shred of a disused woollen pant was hanging. It was black and glistening, for it had already been used times without number. Some of the men wiped their plates on it, but others preferred to rub them with earth and then clean them with a bunch of fresh grass from a patch of lawn near by.

Then, to our dismay, the bugle sounded. We were back on the parade ground, but no Sergeant took charge of us. Instead there appeared a man without a cap and wearing a jersey. He was of colossal size. He had coarse, brutal features. He was our physical drill instructor.

He scowled darkly at us for a short while. Then he looked at one man after the other. His eyes rested on me. I wondered what was the matter. I was kept in suspense for a brief space and then he roared like a bull, "Take those bloody glasses orf," as though the wearing of glasses were a crime against humanity. I took them off and put them into my pocket. The instructor gave me a savage look and then bawled out a number of commands in rapid succession--so rapid that we were unable to follow any of them. We stood still and felt uncomfortable, not knowing what to do. There was an embarrassing pause, and then he thundered:

"Bloody lot o' fools--gorne to sleep 'ave yer? Don't try any o' yer tricks on me. I ain't 'avin' any. I'll smarten yer up a bit--by Gawd--I'll break yer bleed'n' 'earts afore I've done wi' yer--by Gawd I will. When I tells yer ter do a thing yer've got ter do it, else there'll be trouble, Gawd strike me blind. Now then, let's see what yer can do."

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