Page:Punch Vol 148.djvu/422

Before we went into camp our Commandant had been learning to tie knots. In order to let his knowledge off on us he decided to build a bridge and asked us to help him. Bridge building requires a number of pieces of wood. These can be commandeered without difficulty if the owner isn't about. If he catches you, you appeal to his patriotism. The bits of wood are tied together with rope and lashings (string and twine stretch too much). If the bits of wood stay where you have tied them, you call the result a bridge; if they change their positions much you rename it a boom or barricade according to whether you are using water or not. Water isn't essential to bridge-building, but it adds to the amusement. If the bridge stands up long enough you call in the photographer. You further test it by detailing the officers and men whose loss won't affect the efficiency of the Battalion to tread on it. This affords practice for the stretcher-bearers and hospital orderlies. When you have discovered how many men the bridge won't carry, you can either reconstruct it or revert to the boom or barricade theory.

Our Commandant, who has a sense of humour, borrowed a pond. We succeeded in commandeering the wood, though not without having to appeal to the owner's patriotism. We told him that every log which he lent us would probably save the life of a man at the Front. He was either very obtuse or no patriot, and we had to promise to return the logs in the same state of repair in which we found them (fair wear and tear excepted). As our Commandant wasn't present we offered his personal guarantee. The log-owner knew our Commandant, and we had to throw in a Quartermaster and Paymaster. The Quartermaster got the rope and lashings on credit.

The pond had a ready-made island in the middle and we were ordered to throw the bridge on to the island. Bailey didn't understand that the word "throw" was used in the technical sense and started with the ingredients. He was short with the three first logs and the splashes attracted the attention of our Company Commander. This of itself was enough to spoil Bailey's day, apart from other incidents.

We laid a number of logs on the ground in a nice pattern and the Commandant named the pieces. We never decided on the name of one big log; I called it "Splintery Bill" (after the Adjutant), the Commandant called it a "transom," and the Adjutant, when it fell on his toe, called it something else. The Commandant showed us how to use his knots in tying the logs together. We made the knots, and he said that we had constructed a trestle. When we tried to stand the thing on end it didn't look in the least like a trestle. Our Commandant said we hadn't made the knots as he told us, and that he would have to do it himself. When he had finished, it held together better, but didn't look quite sober. After a third combined attempt we were able to attach road-bearers and get it into the water. We started to hammer it into the mud, but some of the blows weren't accurate, and Holroyd had to retire to the hospital tent while we repaired damage. Eventually we got the trestle fixed up and attached pieces of wood called chesses to the road-bearers. If these things are properly applied you can walk on them, and our Junior Platoon Commander was requisitioned to demonstrate the fact. Either he didn't tread on the good chesses or the whole thing wasn't as practicable a piece of work as it looked. He joined Holroyd in the hospital tent.

The other trestles had to be erected in deeper water, and wading volunteers were called for. Our uniform isn't guaranteed unshrinkable and there was a shortage of volunteers. The discovery of a boat seemed likely to solve the difficulty. The boat wasn't found in the water, so we didn't know for certain if it was watertight. No mention of this possible defect was made to Bailey when we started him on his cruise. Bailey was half-way between the bank and the island when the boat sank. Bailey can't swim very well and a fatigue party had to be told off to rescue him. Bailey and his rescuers all say that the corps ought to pay for their new uniforms. Since then our boy buglers (to whom the shrunken uniforms were transferred) have declined to wear them on the ground that they haven't shrunk in the right proportions. Boys are far too fastidious now-a-days; it is absurd to suggest that they cannot bugle evenly with one sleeve shorter than the other.

We got the bridge finished without many more accidents and appointed the committee to test it. Our Commandant wouldn't lead the committee. He said that they were retreating and that he was going to direct operations against the advancing enemy from his proper place in the rear. Only four men retreated over the bridge. When it collapsed two Platoon Commanders remained on on the bridge to the last. The men who had got on to the island seemed pleased with themselves and rather amused when the bridge became a boom. They were quite upset when they found out that we hadn't time to build another bridge for them to cross back again. It was the hour for tea, and bridgebuilding is really engineers' work. It isn't necessary for riflemen to keep on at it when they have once learned how it is done. The islanders said that they would rather stay where they were than go home through the water. The Commandant said he didn't mind so long as they were comfortable, and we marched back to camp.

They arrived in camp very wet and hungry just before "lights out." They had got to dislike the island. They said the place was damp and unhealthy, and that the only available food was a duck and some duck's eggs. They hadn't any means of cooking the duck, and the bird, who was sitting on the eggs, refused to be dissociated from them. In any case there was nothing to indicate their age. The society, too, was limited; they weren't on very good terms with one another; and the duck, owing to its interest in the eggs, was quite unclubable.

On the following day there was a very interesting triangular discussion between the log-owner, the pond-owner and our Commandant on the rights of property.

The Hamburg Fremdenblatt proposes that a new verb, "weddigen," should be employed in the sense of "to torpedo," as a lasting honour to the man who blew up so many British ships. We suggest the following additions to the new vocabulary:—

We even hope to see the list extended to include the phrase "to berlin."

"In the affair of Wednesday night the invader found himself at a loss. His objective was clearly Newcastle. Yet he got no nearer than Walsall."—Globe.

This praiseworthy attempt on the part of The Globe to mislead the enemy as to his whereabouts was unfortunately frustrated by other journals, which gave the place correctly as "Wallsend."