Geoffrey H. Malins

How I Made a "Hide-up"—And Secured a Fine Picture of the Prince Inspecting some Gun-pits—His Anxiety to Avoid the Camera—And His Subsequent Remarks—How a German Block-house was Blown to Smithereens—And the Way I Managed to Film it Under Fire.

To-day has certainly been most interesting, and not without excitement. I was to film the bombardment of a concrete German block-house from the Guards' trenches at ——. Previous to starting out from —— news came through from headquarters that the Prince of Wales was going to inspect some guns with Lord Cavan.

The staff officer who told me this knew the trouble I had previously experienced in trying to obtain good films of the Prince, and warned me to be very careful. I enquired the time of his arrival at the gun-pits. So far as I could ascertain, it was to be at 11.30 a.m. I therefore decided to be there half an hour earlier, and make a "hide-up" for myself and camera. I was determined to succeed this time. Proceeding by way of ——, which place has suffered considerable bombardment, the church and surrounding buildings having been utterly destroyed, I stayed awhile to film the interior and exterior of the church, and so add another to the iniquitous record of the Bosche for destroying everything held sacred.

A short distance outside the town I came upon the gun positions, and crossing a field—or rather shall I say a mud-pond, for the mud very nearly reached my knees—I selected a point of vantage at one side of a hedge which ran at right angles to the gun-pits. There was only one path fit to traverse, and getting hold of an officer, I asked him if we could so arrange it that the Prince started from the further end of the path and came towards camera. He said he would try. Fixing up the camera, I got in front of the hedge facing the path, and completely hid all signs of the machine with bracken and branches of trees. Pushing the lens well through the hedge, I ripped open an old sandbag, cut a hole in it and hung it on the hedge, with my lens pointing through. By such means it was quite impossible for anyone in front to see either myself or the camera, and having completed my preparations, I settled down to patiently await the arrival of the Prince.

In about half an hour he came along with Lord Cavan, a general, and other officers of the staff. True to his promise, Captain —— got the Prince to follow the path I had indicated. When he arrived at the further end of the row of guns, I started filming. He came direct towards the camera, but when within fifteen feet of it the noise of handle turning attracted his attention. He stood fully fifteen seconds gazing in my direction, evidently wondering what it was on the other side of the hedge. Then he passed out of range. I hurried across the field with my aeroscope (an automatic camera), and stood at the end of the path waiting for him to pass.

In a few moments he came along, and I started filming. The smiles of the staff officers were pleasing to behold. One of them remarked to the Prince that it was quite impossible to escape this time. As he passed inside the farm-house, I heard him remark: "That was the man I tried to dodge on Christmas Day. How did he know I was coming here? Who told him?" The enquiry was followed by some good-natured laughter, and feeling satisfied with my work, I hurried away.

I had now to proceed to the front line trenches, taking the car, as far as possible, along the road. I had hidden it under cover of some ruined buildings, and taking the camera, and bidding my chauffeur bring the tripod, I started out. A captain conducted me. We quickly got to the communication trenches. As usual, a good deal of "strafing" was going on, and the German snipers were very busy. When we reached the first line firing trenches, I peered over the parapet through a periscope, but found I was too far south of the block-house. So I proceeded higher up, and about eight hundred yards further on came a traverse, which I had chosen, and the loophole through which I was going to film the scene. The distance to the German block-house from where I was standing was about 150 yards.

The thickness of the parapet, I should say, was roughly four feet; and through the parapet was a conical, square-shaped, wooden cylinder. In front, under cover of darkness, the night previous, I had had two sandbags placed, so that when everything was ready, and my camera fixed, a slight push from the back with a stick would shift them clear of the opening. Fixing up the camera, I very carefully pinned an empty sandbag over the back of the aperture, with the object of keeping any daylight from streaming through. I placed a long stick ready to push the sandbags down. I intended doing that after the first shell had fallen.

This particular loophole had been severely sniped all the morning, the Germans evidently thinking it was a new Maxim-gun emplacement. Time was drawing near. I thought I would try with the stick whether the sandbags would fall easily. Evidently I gave them too vigorous a push, for the next moment they came toppling down. Knowing such a movement as that was certain to attract the German snipers' attention, I quickly ducked my head down and hoped our 9·2's would soon open fire. I did not relish the idea of having a bullet through my camera.

Sure enough the Germans had seen the movement, for bullets began battering into sandbags around the loophole. At that moment the C.O. withdrew the whole of the men from that section of the trench, and I was left alone. But the prospect of getting a fine film drove all other thoughts from my mind.

A few minutes later the first shell came hurtling over and exploded within ten yards of the block-house. I started filming. Shell after shell I recorded as it exploded, first on one side then on the other, until at last the eighth shell fell directly on top of the block-house, and with a tremendous explosion the whole fabric disappeared in a cloud of smoke and flame. DÉbris of every description rattled in the trench all round me, and continued to fall for some moments, but luckily I was not hit. Being unable to resist the temptation of looking over the parapet, I jumped up and gazed at the remains of the building which now consisted of nothing more than a twisted, churned-up mass of concrete and iron rails. Our artillery had done its work, and done it well.