Part 11

If only the end would come! And, until it does come, give me hard work so that my own thoughts cannot oppress me and I may forget all except sore shoulders and aching limbs!

III

ON DETACHMENT

The light-railway engine pulled the trucks slowly along by winding circuitous routes. It was a warm, sunny evening. Everything was green and peaceful. The farms and cottages bore no signs of war. But soon we saw a number of shell-holes grouped round cross-roads, and gradually, as we proceeded, the fields came to be pitted more and more thickly. We skirted a large village. It was deserted. The roof of the church had three black holes. All the houses were damaged and we could see the splintered rafters standing out darkly against the sky.

We passed by camouflaged shell dumps and guns of big calibre, camouflaged and concealed amongst trees and bushes, so that often the muzzle alone was visible. Shell-holes were dotted everywhere. Many of the trees were scarred and their branches wrenched away.

We steamed into the terminal siding. Some distance in front of us was a row of poplars, regular except for the gaps where branch or trunk had been shattered. To the right was a patched-up road with several ruined cottages on either side. To the left of the poplars was a wood in which a large white chateau was half concealed. It looked very dreary with its black, gaping windows. To our right was a big farmhouse. Most of the tiles had been blown from the roof, showing the bare rafters. The door was in splinters, and the walls were riddled. A little lane wound round the farm in a loop and then lost itself in the wood.

Behind us was a hedge and a group of trees amongst which a gun was hidden.

There was no sound of firing. No birds were singing, although it was spring. All was quiet except for the frogs that uttered raucous musical croaks in a pond near by and puffed out the bladders at the corners of their mouths, so as to produce long-drawn shrill vibrations.

We shovelled the stones out of the trucks. Several of the men expressed disappointment at the fact that there was no "excitement."

Soon after nightfall desultory firing broke out some distance off. Then a gun began to fire a long way behind us. The shells passing high overhead made a faint rustling noise, as though they were travelling along in leisurely fashion.

Suddenly all the batteries in the entire neighbourhood joined in. The uproar was like that of innumerable thunderstorms crashing together. The guns bellowed and roared and pounded and deep reverberations filled the night. From behind us there came flashes so dazzling that we could not bear to look at them, and great blasts of air and thunder-claps that seemed to strike our ears with colossal hammers and make them drone intolerably. Thunder-clap followed thunder-clap, long jets of white flame pierced the darkness, and now and again the very air seemed to kindle, and brilliant sheets and shreds of flame blazed and crackled round us. Above there was a noise as though thousands of devilish creatures were rushing along, helter-skelter, with inconceivable rapidity, howling, shrieking, screaming, wailing, laughing, exulting, whistling and gibbering.

The shells burst over and beyond the belt of trees in front of us. Vivid, multicoloured scintillations and innumerable glittering stars flashed out and thronged the sky. At times the shells fell so thickly that a white flame of dazzling brilliancy would dart writhing along the tree-tops with lightning speed. The booming of the guns and the terrible screeching of the shells continued unabated. We were blinded, deafened, and all our senses were confused.

At last the tumult began to die down. I looked round, curious to see the effect on the other men. Frequent flashes still lit up every detail of our surroundings.

Everyone had stopped working. Most of us were gazing ahead, thoroughly scared. Standing next to me was someone who said he had always wanted to see a bombardment and now he was satisfied. He was not at all frightened, being one of the few who realized that we had been in no danger. By the light of the gun-flashes I saw, a few yards in front of me, one of our men, a young nervous fellow, stretched out at full length, trembling, and sobbing hysterically and clutching at the grass with hands that opened and closed in mad spasms. Another man was cowering down by one of the trucks, his face buried in his arms.

Our Sergeant approached. He was quite unafraid and had a rather bored look on his face. Two men were walking beside him. One of them, a Corporal, who a few hours before had complained that we were having no excitement, was saying in a strained, halting voice, that he felt very unwell, that he had hurt his knee, and would like to go back to camp. The other, a small, broad-shouldered, full-chested, squat individual, with a flat nose and a brutal face--the champion light-weight boxer of our unit--implored the Sergeant in whining tones to let him go home. The Sergeant, however, told him to shut up and go on with his work.

Gradually the firing became less and less frequent, until finally it died down altogether. Soon the big yellow disc of the moon rose above the tree-tops and all was silent except for the croaking of the frogs.

We finished emptying the trucks and then sat down inside them. The engine came along, rattling and puffing. It was coupled to the train, and the return journey began.

The landscape was plainly visible in the light of the rising moon. Shell-holes, torn trees, and ruined houses decreased in number. We passed a straw-thatched cottage nestling amid a group of bushes and poplars. A light shone from the window, a dog barked. A bat flitted silently past. It seemed as though the uproar of the cannonade had been a dream.

The engine stopped at the siding. We jumped out of the trucks and retired into our tents. Not a word was spoken by anyone.

The following day we again received orders to proceed to the terminal siding by the light railway.

In the morning our champion boxer had reported sick in anticipation. He looked convincingly pale and complained of the usual "pains all over." The Medical Officer gave him "light duty" and he spent the day in camp, picking up matches, bits of paper, and miscellaneous rubbish.

It seemed strange that the ruined houses, the belt of poplars, the damaged farm, and the wood with the white chateau were still standing there so peacefully after the bombardment of the previous night. The frogs, charming creatures, were still croaking merrily.

When we had unloaded the trucks we sat down in the grass and awaited the return of the engine.

The trees were dim in the warm haze. I gazed at the white chateau. It fascinated me, for some inexplicable reason, and I felt an impulse to go and explore it. I was seized by a mood such as I had rarely felt since childhood, when almost every lonely and desolate building filled me with a sense of awe and mystery, as though it were the home of ghosts or fairies or witches. I was conscious of the absurdity of the emotion, but I surrendered to it and even enjoyed its strangeness.

There was no sound of firing.

I obeyed the impulse and strolled down the little winding lane. It led through a gap in the green hedge that surrounded the wood. Knowing that the enchantment of the chateau would vanish as soon as I entered it, I dawdled on the way so as to prolong my pleasure. Suddenly the bushes in front of me caught fire and a bright sheet of flame shot upward and almost simultaneously there was a sharp report. I was so thrilled by the mysterious attraction of the chateau that I barely noticed the event. As I passed a small ruined cottage, which I had not observed before, for it was hidden amongst the trees, there was a short whizz on a high note, and then a loud crash. Smoke issued from the windows and the riddled roof, and bits of wood and debris hurtled through the air. Then there was a loud wailing noise followed by a terrific detonation. The chateau was blotted from view by a dense mass of black smoke that rose out of the ground in front of me. The spell was broken. I hesitated whether to go on or not, when I became aware of a voice behind me. I looked round and saw one of our Corporals shouting and gesticulating. I turned back and rejoined the others, though not before I had been called a "bloody fool" and threatened with arrest for walking off without permission.

Suddenly the loud, rustling wail was repeated and a portion of the wood was enveloped in a dark cloud. There was a deafening thunder-clap and jagged shell fragments sailed over our heads or dropped in our midst.

Then shell followed shell in rapid succession, all bursting in the wood. A piece of metal whizzed past the ear of a man standing a few yards away. He became unnerved, dashed towards one of the trucks and cowered down by the wheels, trembling in every muscle.