It was the pick of the British Army which was selected for the work of the firing line. Among these men there were deeds done daily and at times almost hourly which were deserving of the highest reward. And only a small number of these deeds of daring and devotion were ever reported to those whose duty it was to recommend the granting of medals. Apart from the actual fighting it was a severe trial of strength, nerve, and endurance to stay for any length of time in the front system of trenches at all.

Let us never forget the heroism of endurance in paying our tribute to the heroism of “the crowded hour of glorious life.”

During the first winter months of the war the life in the trenches which were made across open country was almost unbearable; and it was only made possible by continual use of the pumps. Within and without the ditch men sank to the knees and sometimes to the waist in water and slime. A few shelters of corrugated iron were set up here and there which gave a little protection and made possible the lighting of a fire.

One of the civilian visitors to the Western Front thus described the trench system:—

“The trenches are immense labyrinths, miles in extent, branching in every direction, a guide being always required in entering their mazes. Unpleasant surprises crop up at every point. The sniper is a constant danger, and cover from the enemy’s bullets is scanty enough. I myself passed through one of the communication trenches behind a long double wall of sand-bags from 3 to 4 feet high.

“This trench runs in serpentine fashion for miles through fields, roads, villages, houses, bedrooms, the latter mostly in ruins though much of the furniture is still there. The height of the sand-bag wall renders it advisable to proceed in a stooping fashion, bent almost double.

“Many of the passages cannot be safely used by day. I saw in one place the body of a horse which had lain in the same position for a long time; and yet it could not be taken away, for it was certain death for any one to attempt to move it.

“An officer said to me, ‘If you are tired of life try to move it.’ Through this dreadful lane of death soldiers were constantly passing and re-passing, perspiring, laughing, joking, and teasing one another; but the officers in charge did not joke. They were responsible for the lives of these merry, thoughtless boys, and many a growl was heard as a specially daring private failed to take due care of the life that was too precious to be thrown away to no purpose.”2

Between the front-line trench system of the British and that of the Germans was the open space often spoken of as “No Man’s Land.” Across this space there was incessant firing of rifles and machine-guns, throwing of bombs and hand grenades, and the firing of bombs from trench mortars.

The attacks and counter-attacks on the trenches were of a grim character such as defies description; and the horror of the work was increased by the use of chlorine gas and flame-throwers. The Germans first began to use the dreadful gas round about Ypres, and the brave Canadian troops were some of the first to feel its deadly effects. The use of the gas by the Germans in one of their attacks upon our trenches is thus described:—

“When the gas cylinders were opened, the thick green mist came rolling towards the parapet from the enemy’s empty front trench, several hundreds of yards away. It looked like vapour rising from a marsh, and the wind was strong enough to carry it rapidly towards the parapet.

“The battalion had time to load and fire two rounds through the screen of gas before it came pouring over the sand-bags, penetrating into every crevice of the dug-out, and choking the men who lay there. It was so thick at first that objects three feet away could hardly be seen.”

At a later date the Germans began to make attacks under cover of flame-projectors. The liquid used was a mixture of petrol and kerosene and was thrown towards the trench in such a way that it was fired by an electric spark as it left the tube. Such were some of the horrors of trench life which were borne without complaint day after day by the men who held the post of honour, the long front line facing a clever and determined foe.

It may seem difficult to believe that there was a funny side to this dread business of death, ruin, and hatred. Yet there were many humourous incidents which were not missed by our cheery soldiers. One story tells of a poor private who had toothache very badly and was sitting by the roadside like the old woman who “went to the market her eggs for to sell.” By came—not “a pedlar” but a shell which exploded in the sufferer’s vicinity, but did not hurt him.

In fact it proved of great benefit to him; for he was so much “shocked” that he instantly lost his toothache.

On the first of April 1915 an Allied airman flew over the aerodrome of the French town of Lille which was in German hands. He dropped not a bomb but a football. The Germans ran for cover and watched the “bomb” strike the earth and then bounce to a great height!

They watched carefully to take notes for the Kaiser on the new “postponed” fuse. Only when the ball had rested for some time quite peacefully on the ground did they come out to read the inscription with which it was furnished, namely—“April Fool!”

The flying men on both sides in the fight on the Western Front had a great deal of respect for each other; and in some cases courtesies were exchanged between them which remind us of the olden days of chivalry.

If, for example, a machine was brought down within either of the opposing lines, it was the custom for the captors to drop a weighted letter over the enemy positions giving information as to the fate of the pilot and the observer.

One day, one of these letters fell within the British lines. It told the men of a certain section of the air service that one of their pilots had died the day before. The men at once prepared a wreath which was taken over the German lines on a fast monoplane. The machine was fired at by the Germans as usual; but the British pilot flew low and was able to drop the wreath in a suitable spot, whence it was carried by the Germans to the dead pilot’s grave.

During Christmas time in 1914 a very strange thing happened. At one part of the line on the Western Front the Germans came out of their trenches and met some of the British to wish them the compliments of the season! Small gifts were exchanged and there was some singing and merriment. Then the men went back to their trenches and the cruel war went on.

Stories are told of other instances of friendliness between the men whose business it was to kill each other as quickly as possible. It is said that during a lull in one battle a tin was set up on a branch half-way between the two opposing trenches in order that the men on both sides might try their skill in a sniping match.

There are several instances of football matches being arranged between men on the opposing “international” sides. In one case, the players were ready, but a ball could not be found. In another, all was ready to begin when the British colonel forbade the play, evidently placing no trust in the goodwill of Germans, and being anxious for the safety of his men. In a third instance the match actually came off and the British team was beaten by one goal.

At one point some British soldiers took their enemies some hot cocoa on a bitter wintry day. The shivering men would not drink it until the “Tommies” had first tasted it themselves!