Produced by Al Haines. THE MOTOR-BUS IN WAR BEING THE IMPRESSIONS OF AN A.S.C. BY A. M. BEATSON (Temp. Lieut. A.S.C.) LONDON First published in 1918 (All rights reserved) To Army Service Corps CONTENTS Chapter
THE MOTOR-BUS IN WAR Chapter I INTRODUCTION The War has been responsible, amongst other things, for the publication of a number of books dealing with it in its different aspects and from various points of view. Many of these have been written by men who, previous to it, possibly never thought of writing a book, and even less of seeing what they had written reproduced in print. Finding themselves, however, amongst entirely novel surroundings, engaged in an adventure equally different from anything they had previously anticipated even in their wildest flights of imagination, they have sought to place on record some account of their experiences on active service, but in nearly every case of the actual fighting in which they have taken part with their regiments or batteries at the front. The majority of people at home very naturally focus their mind's eye on what is taking place actually in the long lines of trenches that stretch from the sea in the North right down to Switzerland in the South, particularly in those manned by the British armies, scarcely realizing the stupendous part in the war drama that is played by the men engaged in the vast organization behind the battle-line. The organization that is essential in order to maintain an army in the field as an effective fighting force, by supplying and conveying to it its two main wants—food and ammunition—thus enabling it to keep itself alive and destroy the life of its enemy. An army in the field drags behind it a long chain of transport, mechanical and animal, advanced supply depots, hospitals, rest camps, etc., and communications by which it is securely fastened to fixed bases at its rear. There are in France to-day thousands of men from the railheads nearest the firing-line, right through the long lines of communication to the base supply depots, leading a more or less uneventful life of regular routine, freed to a certain extent from the dangers of shot and shell, but who are, nevertheless, "doing their bit somewhere in France." Whether the establishment of men so engaged is too large and should be reduced to enable more men to be available for the firing-line, as has been recently suggested in Parliament and elsewhere, is a matter I do not propose to discuss at any length, but would add that nearly all the criticism which has been levelled at Army administration has been destructive as opposed to constructive criticism, which is, of course, not only more difficult but infinitely more useful. Preparations on a vast scale have been created, and should our armies in due course advance and drive the invader before them, every bit of that vast organization will be needed, and, moreover, should its efficiency fail, the advancing armies would find themselves in a sorry plight. A reduction in that establishment of personnel behind the line might, therefore, prove fatal. At least, it can be said for these men that their job is not of their own seeking, and that they volunteered, many of them in the first weeks of the war, for "active service," having no definite idea at all as to what they would encounter and what was in store. Although they are members of a combatant corps, opportunities for gallant actions and distinctions seldom come their way. Lord Northcliffe has described them as "The Army behind the Army." Such are the men of the administrative branches of the Service, who deal with thousands of tons of every imaginable material daily, from the time it is off-loaded from the ships at seaport supply bases such as Rouen, Le Havre, Calais, etc., up to its actual issue to the fighting troops at the front. Thus their operations extend from the bases to within a few hundred yards of the trenches, the interest and excitement of their work increasing proportionately with its distance from the former. It is of the doings of some of these men that I have endeavoured to write a description, and the following pages contain an account of my experiences with the British Expeditionary Force, chiefly incidents in my particular appointment during 1914, '15, '16 and '17, as an Army Service Corps officer in the Mechanical Transport Supply Column of an Indian Cavalry Division. This book does not pretend to be an historical record of the doings of the unit to which I have been attached during this period, but merely a few sketches, written at random at various times, of incidents that have occurred in the course of duty with the largest mechanical transport unit (except the Base Mechanical Transport Depots and Workshops) of the British Expeditionary Force in France. Incidentally, these experiences have been unusually varied; though many is the time when they have appeared to be exactly the opposite. Nevertheless, the unit of which I write has consistently "rationed" its troops at almost every part of the British line, from Ypres to the River Somme, not to mention the places far behind the line where cavalry have been billeted during the winters and other periods of enforced inactivity. Looking at the map of the Western front war zone and drawing on it roughly a rectangle, having for its four angular points Boulogne and Ypres in the North and Rouen and PÉronne in the South, there is, in this area, scarcely a town through which, or a main road over which, motor-lorries of the Supply Column have not travelled in their many journeys, covering thousands of miles, during the last two and a half years, up and down this strange land of "somewheres." This has been called an engineers' war; it is certainly the first war in which petrol-propelled mechanical transport has been employed to any extent. Thousands of Army Service Corps motor-lorries, painted service grey-green, line the roads behind the trenches in France and Flanders. Petrol is surely the key to modern warfare. Operations on such a gigantic scale could not be carried on without it, for petrol-propelled vehicles are used, amongst other purposes, for the following:— The conveying of food, clothes, ammunition, and water to the troops. The haulage of heavy pieces of artillery. The evacuation of sick and wounded to the casualty clearing hospitals, etc. The rapid movement of troops from one part of the line to another, and as the quickest means of bringing up reinforcements. The fate of Paris was largely changed, at the beginning of the War, by the requisition and mobilization of some thousand or so motor taxi-cabs during a night, at the order of the late General GalliÉni. In them were sent out twenty-five thousand troops, who by this means of transport swiftly proceeded to the Ourcq and reinforced the French Army, which was striking a terrific blow at the turned flank of Von Kluck's army. It will be recalled that the enemy's columns advancing on Paris turned abruptly eastwards to unexpectedly rush on the British Divisions and cut them off from their juncture with the 5th French Army. They failed to do so, but until the night of September 9th-10th the battle of Nanteuil-sur-Marne hung in the balance. General Maunoury's army was constantly being reinforced, however, by the troops which arrived at Dammartin and other points in the requisitioned taxi-cabs so regularly that the pressure was increased, the tide of battle turned, and the capital of France saved. The stand put up by the allied French and British Armies on the Marne will go down to posterity as the most epic battle in European history. The warfare in France and Flanders, since it settled down to a prolonged and continuous trench strafe, has been described as consisting in "months of boredom punctuated by moments of intense fear," and it has been to pass the time of day during some of those months that the following chapters have been written. If they succeed in giving the reader some slight idea of the scope, extent, and versatility of work accomplished by the mechanical transport of the Army Service Corps, of how our armies in the field are fed, and of the soldier-man's life and surroundings at various distances "behind the front"—what he sees and does there—they will not have been written in vain. I have purposely avoided matters of controversy, and I have written not as a critic but as an observer and the player of a very small part in the great drama. I trust that the varying degrees of discomfort, inseparable from active service, under which I have had to write will be accepted as sufficient excuse for any lack of literary style. Chapter II "AU REVOIR" TO ENGLAND In the early stages of the War it was by no means uncommon for a man to enlist in the Army Service Corps in the afternoon and the same night find himself marching, in company with a good many others, into the Mechanical Transport Depot at Grove Park, singing "Tipperary." The following morning, having been put into khaki, he would be told off to a motor-lorry, on which he would chalk such cryptic remark as "London-Berlin Express." Later in the day he would be driving his lorry—one of a convoy of many similar vehicles—to ——, and a few hours after that he would be in France. This is not exactly what happened to the author; suffice it to add that in the first few days of August 1914 he enlisted, and on October 28th made the meteoric flight from private in a Territorial Battalion to a second-lieutenant in the Army Service Corps. On Sunday, November 15th, he had just come up from Grove Park to London on a few hours' leave of absence from duty, when a telegram arrived. It read: "Return at once.—ADJUTANT." Having followed this order, he was packed off at once to Woolwich, and here found he was posted to the —— Indian Cavalry Division Supply Column. On Tuesday, the 17th, the column was due to leave Woolwich for —— and sail for France almost immediately after arrival at the port of embarkation. So on that morning we entrained; the motor-lorries and half the personnel had gone on by road the previous day. The same night we found ourselves at ——, ten officers and some 700 N.C.O.'s and men, the latter composed of lorry drivers and supply details, with roughly 160 motor-lorries and cars. Half the lorries were old buses off the London streets, but not of the usual "London General" appearance, for they had been converted from passenger to food and forage carrying vehicles by the substitution of van-shaped open bodies in place of the familiar bright red, two-decker bus bodies. I was destined to travel many thousands of miles on the front seat of many of these, and it has often occurred to me during the course of my journeys that perhaps the same buses that I have taken to Ypres have perhaps taken me on previous occasions, before the War, down Piccadilly or along the Strand, under entirely different circumstances. The remainder of the lorries were brand new Silent Knight Daimlers, and the carrying capacity of the majority of the lorries was thirty hundredweight. Painted grey-green service colour, they presented a sombre spectacle, "parked" in a long line along a straight open road just outside the docks. Besides the lorries for carrying supplies, we had the large, closed, high-bodied, portable workshop lorries, fitted with the essential tools—lathes, drilling-machines, and the like—driven by petrol-electric sets, to effect repairs to broken-down lorries in the field. Also the closed-in store lorries, fitted with interior shelves and pigeon-holes, in which were carried engineers' tools, stores of all kinds, spare parts, and various equipment. In addition, we had five 12-16 h.p. Sunbeam four-seater cars and a dozen or so Douglas motor-bicycles. Collectively, the column occupied just a mile of road. At —— we did not enjoy ourselves. For one thing, 700 men, mostly quite unaccustomed to military discipline, are not altogether easy to deal with, and for another, the only sleeping accommodation available for officers and men consisted in the floors of the various offices and goods-yards at —— Railway Station. Moreover, it was snowing hard, and on the night of November 17th there were several degrees of frost. Matters were made very much easier by the presence of an Army Chaplain who was on duty at the docks. He mixed with and chatted to the men, telling them what splendid fellows they were, and on the evening of our arrival got up an impromptu concert, which proved a great divertissement. Our stay was not, however, a long one; we did not even wait to effect certain most necessary repairs to the lorries, and those that were able to run under their own power towed those that could not, and the splendid hydraulic cranes on the quayside at —— soon picked up each vehicle and securely deposited it—at the rate of about five minutes per lorry—in the holds of the four tramps that, sailing under sealed orders, were to transport the column to France. So on the evening of November 19, 1914, I left England on H.M. Transport Trevithoe, in company with two other second-lieutenants. On board we had roughly a quarter of our personnel and vehicles. Our departure was quite unlike that of any ship I have ever seen leave port or left port on myself. There were no scurrying, hurrying crowds of people on the quayside. The men filed on board almost silently in the darkness, each carrying his rifle and kit. There were none of the usual spectators, no relatives or friends to see us off. As each man crossed the gangway he was handed a small piece of paper; on it was printed Lord Kitchener's message to every soldier about to join the Expeditionary Force: You are ordered abroad as a soldier of the King to help our French comrades against the invasion of a common enemy. You have to perform a task which will need your courage, your energy, your patience. Remember that the honour of the British Army depends on your individual conduct. It will be your duty not only to set an example of discipline and perfect steadiness under fire, but also to maintain the most friendly relations with those whom you are helping in this struggle. The operations in which you are engaged will, for the most part, take place in a friendly country, and you can do your own country no better service than in showing yourself in France and Belgium in the true character of a British soldier. Be invariably courteous, considerate, and kind. Never do anything likely to injure or destroy property, and always look upon looting as a disgraceful act. You are sure to meet with a welcome and to be trusted; your conduct must justify that welcome and trust. Your duty cannot be done unless your health is sound. So keep constantly on your guard against any excesses. In this new experience you may find temptations both in wine and women; you must entirely resist both temptations, and, while treating all women with perfect courtesy, you should avoid any intimacy. Do your duty bravely. Fear God. Honour the King.
When all were safely on the Trevithoe, the padre whom I have already mentioned came on board and called the men around him. The senior officer present called all to "Attention," and the padre proceeded to bid us farewell and God-speed. He adjured the men to place absolute confidence in their officers and obey them implicitly. He added that he hoped all might come home safe and sound in due course, though there were some who might never return. Our caps removed, he raised his hand and gave the Blessing, and shaking hands with each officer and a good many men, he went ashore. Emotion travels quickly through a crowd, and his words had brought tears to the eyes of many who were leaving home so suddenly, for the first time, only a few days after they had been following their accustomed occupations as of yore. Never, I must admit, have any words I have heard uttered made me feel so momentarily miserable. Still, from the religious point of view it was, I suppose, necessary to remind each man going out on active service of the consequent possibility of meeting his death, that he might order his life and conduct accordingly. The whistle blew, the hawsers were cast off, and the Trevithoe steamed slowly away from the quay. I leant over the side of her deck to have a long last look at Old England, whose gradually disappearing shore and lights I could just distinguish, as we steamed out into the darkness. I wondered how long it would be before I should see them again. Only the silhouetted figures of the padre and an Embarkation Staff officer were to be seen on the quay. I lit a cigarette and lingered a few minutes on deck, and as I looked across the dark silent sea, the throb of the ship's engines seemed to say repeatedly, "Three years or the duration!" I am glad to have an opportunity of expressing our thanks to the captain and officers of the ship's company of the Trevithoe for the hospitality they extended to us on board. They gave us the run of the ship; we messed with them in their saloon and had a right royal time. The captain offered to take me one day for a voyage more or less round the world. After the war I hope to find an opportunity of holding him to his promise! Of the other ships which transported the Supply Column from —— to France, one was the Woodfield—and it was with regret that I read a year or so later in the papers that she had come to an untimely end, through being torpedoed by a German submarine—not, however, before she had put up a gallant fight against superior odds and given the U-boat a very unpleasant time of it. After a voyage more or less uneventful, we lay to off Le Havre on the evening of the 21st. The next morning we picked up a pilot and steamed leisurely up the winding River Seine, appreciating the beautiful scenery and no less the greeting of the riverside inhabitants, who waved Union Jacks and the Tricolour, and whose frequent shouts of "Vive l'Angleterre" and "Vive les Anglais" could be plainly heard, so narrow is the river at many points. Such was our welcome to France, and towards the evening of Sunday, November 22nd, we arrived at Rouen, and the next day set foot on French soil. In a few hours, with the help of the French pontoon cranes, so different, alas! to the hydraulic jibs at ——, we successfully slung and landed all the vehicles, without any casualties of serious importance. The lorries were parked in a long line on the road outside a former cinema theatre on the outskirts of Rouen, which building was for the time being the Advanced Mechanical Transport Depot of the British Expeditionary Force, and no time was lost in completing equipment before starting on the journey by road up country. Rouen, with its magnificent cathedral and quaint narrow streets, is an altogether delightful town. It was, of course, full of khaki, and it seemed strange to think that it, of all towns, should be occupied by British troops. A few days later we started on the journey to the front. The column went up in two sections. I was with the second to leave Rouen, and we had with us half our vehicles, and carried all our equipment, cooking utensils, stores, etc., for all the world like a huge travelling circus. Leaving Rouen by the Route Nationale Number 28, we wondered how soon it would be before we should encounter patrols of Uhlans or come under shell fire. No one knew where the front exactly was, how far away, or what it was like. I had the pleasure of travelling together with our French Interpreter, in the car which led the convoy, with the senior lieutenant who was in charge of it. The first night after leaving Rouen we stopped at NeufchÂtel-en-Bray, where there is a small country hotel, kept, strangely enough, by an Englishwoman, who put up a very good dinner for us and the best cider that Normandy can produce, which is saying a good deal. The next morning we were on the road again, and by mid-day reached Abbeville, outside which the convoy was halted while the officer in charge proceeded into the town for orders as to our ultimate destination. Pushing on, we arrived at Hesdin and stayed there the night. Travelling throughout the following day, we at length reached Lillers. This little town was full of troops of almost every imaginable regiment, from dusky Indian Cavalry soldiers to kilted Highlanders. Guns were booming away in the distance, and we realized that we were at last at the front and within measurable distance of the trenches. I was billeted for the night in a cafÉ in the square; all night long could be heard the regular tramp of men marching, horses, and the wheels of limbered wagons rumbling along the cobbled street, for Lillers is on the main road to BÉthune, not far beyond which were the trenches. Resuming our journey the following day, we passed through the picturesque old town of BÉthune, with its typical pavÉ Grande Place and square-towered church. At that time it was to all intents and purposes momentarily deserted by its civilian population, for the Germans had on the previous day caused much alarm and some damage by an aeroplane raid and bomb-dropping exploit, and civilians took more notice of such unaccustomed incidents at this period than they do nowadays. Eventually we arrived at Fouquereuil, which for the time being was to be our railhead. It consisted of a railway station, a couple of dozen or so small cottages, a few estaminets and a brickfield. The latter served as the parking ground for our mobile workshops and a good number of the supply lorries, while the roofed-in part of it was used as sleeping quarters for officers and men, the column office, and officers' messroom. In the latter our table and chairs, if one may thus describe them, were composed of loose bricks built up in heaps to the required shapes. The Indian Cavalry regiments were billeted in the surrounding villages. The same evening two officers of the Supply and Transport Corps, Indian Army, joined us, so that our establishment was complete and we were ready to carry on. The following day we tasted for the first time the joys of "loading"—refilling the lorries from the supply train at railhead, which brings up from the Base the rations and forage for the troops. It appeared at first a complicated and extremely lengthy business, and the mud and rain—it seemed to rain continuously—did not make matters any easier. Notwithstanding these several disadvantages, a complete division of Indian Cavalry "in the field" was for the first time in history rationed in Europe, and also for the first time anywhere by means of mechanical transport. Chapter III RAILHEAD Supply trains, which, as their name denotes, bring up supplies for the troops in the field, are made up and loaded at the Base, and possibly certain of their contents are loaded at intermediate points en route in the line of communications. They then proceed to the regulating station, which is to all intents and purposes the terminus of the lines of communication, and from there they are dispatched to the railhead of the Division for which the supplies are intended. The railhead of a Division is the furthest point along the railway line in the direction of the Division in question to which the supply train travels. From that point motor-lorries are loaded up with rations and forage drawn from the supply train, and in due course convey them by road to the vicinity of the troops, where they either dump their contents in bulk at a prearranged point, deliver it to each regiment individually, or, in the case of an Infantry Division, off-load it to the divisional horse train. This consists of a number of thirty hundred-weight carrying capacity General Service wagons, which in turn carry and deliver the supplies to the Brigade or regimental ration dumps. From there they are taken on by carrying parties into the trenches when necessary—the plan adopted being, of course, in accordance with tactical considerations and the conditions prevailing. The railhead usually consists of a station yard; fortunately, in France they are nearly all large, rather more so, I think, than those of country villages or small towns of corresponding size at home. They are all built on the same pattern and have the same attributes. In winter they are covered with a sea of ankle-deep mud and in summer they are as dusty as the Sahara. In any season of the year they are places to avoid from a pleasure point of view. We will try to picture a typical railhead. It is about 6 a.m. Drawn up in the yard of some country station, possibly one that has been blown to bits by shell fire, are one or more goods trains. They are composed of large closed-in trucks, each of which is marked "Hommes 40. Chevaux [en long] 8." One reads this for the first time with feelings of sympathy, for either the "hommes" or the "chevaux." But, for the trucks we are going to deal with, the inscription is misleading, for they actually contain rations for men and horses, and go to make up a supply train. The Column Supply Officer arrives in his car and "takes over the train" from the Railhead Supply Officer. The sealed trucks are opened up by the supply personnel. A convoy of perhaps sixty to eighty empty motor-lorries appears on the scene. They draw up outside the railhead and are checked into the yard in batches and detailed for the load they are to carry. Entering the yard, they "back" one by one up against the open trucks and are loaded up from the train. The grocery trucks in particular present a scene of great animation. The men who "issue" the groceries are experts at their job, and can ladle out tea or sugar and cut off given weights of cheese and bacon with a rapidity which is amazing. So accurate are they, through long practice, that weights and scales are almost unnecessary. Each railhead has attached to it several officers of considerable importance, namely: Railway Transport Officer, Railhead Supply Officer, Railhead Ordnance Officer, and a representative of the Assistant Military Forwarding Officer, officially designated and known only by their initials, R.T.O., R.S.O., R.O.O., and A.M.F.O. respectively—not forgetting the "Commissaire Militaire," an officer of the French Army, usually of advanced age and senior rank, who is the liaison officer between the French and British Armies in matters of traffic regulation and organization. The only other personnel at railheads are a few military police, a handful of A.S.C. details, and usually a company or so of some line regiment in charge of a subaltern. These latter are employed as sentries over trains and on various fatigues, and are usually part of the remnants of a battalion that has had a rough time in the trenches and is out on rest, awaiting the arrival from England of reinforcements to bring it up once more to its fighting strength. The duties of the R.T.O. include all matters in connection with the regulation of the railway traffic of his railhead, such as the arrival and departure of supply and ammunition trains; the entraining and detraining of troops, reinforcements and remounts; the evacuation of sick and wounded men and horses; and last, but surely not least, the issue of "movement orders" to officers and men travelling by train, including the "leave train," which, being apparently of little or no importance in the scheme of things, has to make way for all other traffic on the line, and usually occupies from ten to twenty-four hours to accomplish the journey from the front to Boulogne or Le Havre, as the case may be; sometimes even longer in making the return journey. French trains, at any rate in war-time, are anything but rapid, and to get to one place from another by train is not always so easy a matter as might at first appear. * * * * * The R.S.O. is responsible for the issue of all rations and forage at railhead, whether from the supply trains or from the railhead "dump" or "detail" trucks, while the R.O.O. deals with the classification and return to the Base of all unserviceable and worn out material classed as Ordnance Stores, which term includes such items as used shell cases, rifles, boots, clothing, horseshoes, saddlery, and various equipment. The A.M.P.O. receives and distributes the various boxes of presents, luxuries, and so forth, sent by friends at home through the M.F.O., Southampton, a task more arduous than it may appear, particularly about Christmas-time, and also dispatches home surplus personal and deceased officers' kits, etc. At each railhead there is to be found also a field post office. I need hardly add that from it His Majesty's mails, always so eagerly awaited by all of us, are distributed and loaded on to postal lorries of the Supply Column allotted for the purpose, which take the mails on to the units of the Division. The field post offices are in charge of the R.E.'s. What a wonderful corps the Sappers are! Their versatility and multifarious duties are truly remarkable, varying as they do from "tunnelling" and the administration of asphyxiating gases to the Huns from our front line trenches to the maintenance of telephone wires and the running of field post offices. One of the excitements of railhead is the passing through of convoys of German prisoners en route to internment camps. On one occasion I happened to be at Merville and saw a party of prisoners marched into the railhead yard, where they were to entrain; their escort consisted of some Gurkhas, whom they looked on with evident signs of alarm and suspicion. The R.T.O. happened to be able to speak German, and very soon formed the prisoners up in two ranks and marched them to the train, giving his words of command in their own language, greatly, it need scarcely be added, to their surprise. On such occasions as the entraining of German prisoners, "souvenirs" are in great demand, in the shape of German uniform buttons and helmets, though the latter are more uncommon than was formerly the case. This word "souvenir," which is frequently put in the form of a request by the inhabitants to English soldiers, appears to cover a variety of articles, from an empty shell case to a full tin of "bully." It is the recognized custom within the war zone for every one to ask every one else for a souvenir. There is a current story of one Tommy who, writing home, remarked in the course of his letter that the French were funny people, and the only word of English they seemed to understand was "souvenir"! Chapter IV SUPPLY COLUMNS AND RATIONS The Supply Column of a Cavalry Division consists roughly of 160 motor-lorries, mostly of a carrying capacity of thirty hundredweight each. The column is divided into two echelons or sections of eighty lorries, each of which works independently of the other. Briefly, the system is as follows: The echelons load and deliver rations on alternate days—that is to say, No. 1 Echelon draws rations from the supply train at railhead on Monday and delivers them to the troops on Tuesday. No. 2 Echelon refills on Tuesday and delivers on Wednesday, and so on. The rations in each case, being delivered direct to units in their billets or bivouacs, are consumed by the troops on the day following delivery, so that one day's rations are always held regimentally for the following day's consumption. The lorries are loaded in a particular manner, namely, "by regiments," and according to a definitely laid down scale of daily rations. That is to say, each lorry is told off to a particular job, and the quantity of each ration issued to a regiment is arrived at by multiplying together the number of men or animals to be fed—that is "ration strength" of each regiment—and the allowance of each particular ration, as laid in the ration scale. The scale of rations and forage now prevailing for personnel and animals is as follows: BRITISH AND DOMINION TROOPS (*Daily Ration per Man.*) 1 lb. fresh or frozen meat or 3/4 lb. (nominal) preserved meat. 1 1/4 lb. bread or 3/4 lb. biscuit. 4 oz. bacon. 3 oz. cheese. 2 oz. dried vegetables, peas, beans, or dried onions. 5/8 oz. tea. 4 oz. jam. 3 oz. sugar. 1/2 oz. salt. 1/50 oz. mustard. 1/36 oz. pepper. 1/12 tin condensed milk. 2 oz. butter, thrice weekly. The ration of tobacco is 2 oz. per week, either in the form of cigarettes or for pipe-smoking, and two boxes of matches are also issued. There are certain extras issued according to season or circumstances, such as rum, pea-soup, Oxo cubes, lime juice, and candles. The fresh vegetable ration, such as potatoes and onions, is 1/2 lb. per man per day; it may come up by supply train or be a local purchase. Also must be mentioned the combined meat and vegetable or Maconachie ration: the latter name, by which it is usually known, is that of its original maker. It is issued in lieu of fresh meat and vegetables occasionally, and to Mr. Thomas Atkins is the most popular feed. It consists of stewed beef or mutton with carrots, onions, rice, and potatoes, and is packed in an air-tight tin. It is only necessary to boil the tin in water for about five minutes, then cut it open, and there is a good meal ready cooked without any further trouble. Nothing is overlooked: even, in summer-time, fly-papers are issued. Latterly, sardines and pickles, and even rabbits, have become occasionally part of the British ration. The iron or emergency ration, which is always carried on the soldier, and is only consumed under exceptional circumstances and at the direct order of an officer, consists of 1 lb. of preserved meat 1 lb. of biscuit, 5/8 oz. of tea, 2 oz. sugar, and two 1 oz. cubes of meat extract, such as Oxo. Curious incidents occur in the best regulated and fed armies; the following is one: Some little time ago it was announced that a new kind of ration in the form of tinned pork and beans would be issued to the troops as soon as stocks of the same were available at the Base, and a few months later the pork and beans ration duly put in its appearance; appropriately enough in midsummer! On opening a tin a certain Railhead Supply Officer was surprised to find it to apparently contain only beans, the pork being conspicuous by its absence. As the contents were intended to be a substitute for the ordinary fresh meat ration, he opened a second tin, only to find that its contents were similar to the first. He thereupon reported the absence of the elusive pork to the Deputy Director of Supplies, and was in reply informed that, strange as it might at first appear, the pork, though invisible, was none the less present in each tin; it had, however, become "absorbed" by the beans. A later request by the Railhead Supply Officer was to the effect that "in view of the rapacious appetite of the beans now being issued as rations of pork and beans, it would be advisable that, though a meat ration, the latter be not sent up from the Base in the same truck of the supply train as the fresh British meat, for fear of the devouring tendency of the once homely bean." For Indian personnel the "field" ration is as follows: Atta ............................ 1 1/2 lb. Fresh meat (goat or sheep) ...... 4 oz. Dhal ............................ 4 oz. Ghi ............................. 3 oz. Gur ............................. 3 oz. Potatoes ........................ 2 oz. Tea ............................. 1/3 oz. Ginger .......................... 1/6 oz. Chillies ........................ 1/8 oz. Turmeric ........................ 1/8 oz. Garlic .......................... 1/8 oz. Salt ............................ 1/2 oz. Atta is coarse ground flour, very similar to that of which so-called "standard" bread is made at home. Of it the natives make chupattis, which are round flat cakes of baked dough. Dhal consists of dried peas. Ghi is a kind of butter, which, judging from its smell, would appear to be rancid. Gur is simply brown sugar or molasses. It will be noticed that the native meat ration is very small. The natives are not meat-eaters in the accepted sense of the word, and their small ration they invariably "curry" with the ration of ginger, chillies, turmeric and garlic, which are the raw ingredients of curry powder. Not infrequently also they are issued with a ration of rice and also dried fruits, when stocks are available. The ration of forage for horses and mules varies according to the size and type of the animals, from 6 lb. to 19 lb. oats, plus 10 lb. to 15 lb. hay. Hay is sent up in bales averaging from 80 lb. to 100 lb. in weight and grain in sacks containing 80 lb. It will be seen from the above scales that there are a number of different rations to be weighed out and loaded; the operation of loading at first took a considerable time at railhead, but with continual practice we reduced the time and have consistently loaded the rations and forage for the entire Division, roughly for the ten thousand men and horses, in two and a half hours. Taking into consideration the fact that we were dealing with British and Native rations, and that the quantity amounted to about sixty-five lorry loads—over a hundred tons of rations—two and a half hours is, I think, not a bad average for time. Speed in loading, combined, of course, with accuracy, is essential—it being not infrequently necessary to get the train away quickly, so as to clear the line for other traffic. After refilling, the lorries either remain near the railhead or proceed towards the direction of the troops and park in a suitable position until the following day, when they go out in convoy and off-load their contents, returning immediately after doing so. Most of the foregoing remarks apply to a Cavalry Divisional Supply Column. With an Infantry Division matters are somewhat different, there being only one echelon of lorries, which issue and are refilled on the same day. Moreover, an Infantry Divisional Supply Column is loaded with rations in bulk; a Cavalry Divisional Supply Column, as I have already explained, is loaded "by regiments." The reason for the first of the above differences is not difficult to discover, for, infantry being slow-moving troops, the distance to be covered by road by the Supply Column is not great, and cannot increase rapidly, whereas with cavalry, the radius of mobility or action may be possibly ninety miles each way out and back to railhead, and thus a double establishment of vehicles is necessary. If the cavalry to be rationed are on the move, supplies cannot be delivered until a definite resting-point for the night has been reached, usually after dark. They are then delivered by supply lorries direct to units in their billets or bivouacs. With a Cavalry Division there is no horse train; obviously, horse-drawn wagons could not keep pace with advancing cavalry. On the latter presumption the "War Establishment" is entirely devised. Ill-fed troops are worse than useless, and in the British Army no pains or expense are spared to enable the soldier's daily ration to be not only plentiful and of the best quality, but delivered to him with clock-work regularity and dispatch. The Army Council evidently believe in the Napoleonic maxim that "an army marches on its stomach." The British meat ration, nearly always —— frozen beef, and occasionally —— chilled mutton, is excellent in quality. It, of course, requires to be hung for a few days, when practicable—as Tommy puts it, "to get the frost out of it," or, in other words, to be slowly thawed; after that has been done, it satisfies the most fastidious or enormous appetites. During the summer months it was found that the long journey in a closed railway truck did not improve its quality, and for this reason it was for a time sent up in trucks specially built for the purpose and marked, "Insulated Meat Wagon. Viande gelÉe." All the other rations are of equally good quality. The bacon, so much appreciated, especially in the trenches, where cooking facilities are not great, is of the best quality Irish. The butter, tinned dairy butter. The cheese, mostly Canadian Cheddar. The jam, at first of the proverbial plum and apple variety, was later varied by strawberry, apricot, marmalade, and occasionally by honey. As for the tea, one can taste worse in London drawing-rooms, and the bully beef, scorned perhaps to a certain extent owing to the fact that it in time becomes monotonous, is nevertheless the finest preserved meat procurable. The bread is all baked in the A.S.C. field ovens at the Base, and owing to the amount of moisture purposely left in it, does not readily become stale. After being kept a week, if a loaf is sprinkled with water and put into a hot oven for ten minutes or so it comes out as crisp as newly baked bread. One of the commissariat problems, which, however, has been solved satisfactorily, was the question of "Native meat," or the ration of meat for Indian troops serving in Europe. The solution has been found in the institution of "Native butcheries." A Native of high caste in India would, of course, not eat any meat that even the shadow of a European had passed over. In coming to France the Native troops have, however, been granted certain religious dispensations, not only with regard to food, but, in the case of Hindus, in being allowed to leave the boundaries of their own country. Nevertheless, their caste rights as to food are as strictly observed as the exigencies of active service allow. The goats and sheep, chiefly Corsican and Swiss, purchased for their consumption, are sent up in a truck to railhead alive, and are slaughtered by men of their own caste in a butchery arranged for the purpose, generally in a field or some open place in close proximity to the railhead. The Mohammedan will eat only goats or sheep slaughtered by having their throats cut, and the Hindu, by their being beheaded. The latter method is carried out in the abattoir by a Native butcher with the aid of a cavalry sword at one fell swoop, and of the two methods is certainly to be recommended as being the most rapid and instantaneous death. I need hardly add that the Native butchery is always looked on as an object of awe and interest, if not of excitement, by the French inhabitants, and none the less by English soldiers. The Natives do not object to their meat being handled by English soldiers, or to it being brought to them in the same lorry which also perhaps carries British ration beef, although the cow is a sacred animal to the Hindu and in the form of beef is naturally distasteful. The only point is that the goat's meat or mutton intended for their consumption must not actually come into contact with the beef, and this is arranged for by a wooden barrier between the two, erected in the interior of the lorry. On one occasion, however, the native rations for a certain regiment had just been dumped on the side of the road, and were being checked by the Daffadar, or Native Quartermaster-Sergeant, when at a critical moment an old sow, followed by her litter, came out of a farm gate and innocently ran over the whole show. A lot of palaver followed amongst the Natives, and there was no alternative; they would not have these rations at any price, and back they had to be taken to be exchanged. The pig is, of course, abhorrent to the Mussulman. One story in connection with the rationing of the Indian Cavalry whilst in the trenches at Ypres in the summer of 1915 may be of interest. The cow being a sacred animal to the Hindu, it became necessary to replace the usual tins of bully beef by a suitable substitute. With this end in view, quantities of tins of preserved mutton were sent up for the consumption of Hindu personnel. The tins in which it was packed, however, unfortunately bore the trade mark of the packers, Messrs. Libby—a bull's head—and in consequence of this the Hindus would not have it that their contents could be anything but beef, until their own Native officers convinced them that such was not the case. It will be seen that the organization for rationing Native troops is such that they are able to be fed in accordance with the rites of their caste, surely a not unimportant factor. |