Charles E W Bean, Diaries, AWM38 3DRL 606/245/1 - 1915 - 1925 - Part 4

25.
came first. Leading off the man street, we had gone a very short way
when we came upon some fellows seated in doorways dangling black hags
on their knees. Before we had reached the end of the street, two
M.P's darted out of one house and into another. Screams of "Abdul!
Abdul! Mahomet!" echoed in the building as the police chased the male
lovers up stairs and down, knocking furniture allroads roads.
Down near the river we were stuck up by a Gyppo in flwing robes
flowing robes who informed us that he was the dinkum Moses, "the
greater Gyppsian guide". To make an impression on us, he thrust a
book containing testimonials under our nose; some were serious, but
most of them were written by Aussies and were literary gems. The
last leaf contained one which finished up with - "He is the biggest
damned liar I've met. Give him a good kick on the arse for me.
T. Brown." The guide came to the conclusion that we were impressed
by the way we laughed, and he hurried us off across a stream to show
us the place where Moses was found in the bullrushes. Standing to
one side, he delivered himself of his story, while intently watching
us to see how much of it we were taking in. I believe if we had
stayed long enough the old rascal would have pulled out a lock of
Moses' hair.
Later in the day we saw a funeral go by down a side street.
The coffin was perched on men's shoulders, and the occupant's hat
graced the top of the box. A string of howling men, women and kids
trailed behind yelling and bawling at the top of their voices; they
turned the place into a Bedlam. An Englishman passing by told us
that they were paid mourners, and were endeavouring to give good
service. It was the only funeral I ever enjoyed.
On the edge of the Wozzer two old ladies ran an imitation
Y.M.C.A. In a roomy building, they sought to entertain men who were
at a loose end. Their motherly ways must have served to remind men
of mothers and sweethearts, and served as a break brake on many wild
spirits. Every evening the place was turned into a shakedown, and
men slept all over the place. The following evening we went around
to get another night's lodging, but the old ladies knew that our time
was up and artfully cornered us over a cup of coffee, and made us

26.
promise to leave for camp by the next train. An hour later we were
rattling along in the train on our way back to camp.

COPY
Capt Rule 14 Bn
ARMENTIERES.
About the beginning of June, 1916, the 14th
Battalion were detrained just outside Baileul and marched off
into billets. The weather had changed and rain began to fall,
no sooner had the rain stopped than the rumble of artillery
away in the distance could be heard and through the pitch black
night the quivering flashes played up and down the horizon.
For some reason or other, everybody was quiet and serious. As
we were formed up waiting to move off, a man by the name of
Barnes said to me "Well, Sgt., I wish it was all over". Two
months later at Pozieres both he and his brother were blown to
pieces by the same shell. Both were very gentlemanly types
of men, and soldiering was repulsive to them. Sense of duty
alone sustained them.
As we were hurriedly told off to our new quarters,
the romantic side of billeting disappeared for ever. Most of
us had ideas (goodness knows how we conceived them) of a nice
clean room, the old farmer, his wife and daughters flying
around to see if his guests were comfortable. As a substitute,
the members of my platoon were greeted by a cackling protest
from the fowls and an old pig with a family.
We spent a week in this locality drilling and
getting acquainted with new gas masks.

Physical exercises took up a fair proportion of our time.
This also included organised games. Like a lot of children we
played leap-frog, rounders, and other childish games. I have seen
French people stand and gape at one game which we played; it was
called slap arse. The officer in charge would get us into a circle,
order every one to close their eyes and bow their heads, and put thei
their hands behind their backs. Taking off his belt, he would walk
round the outside of the circle and quietly slip the belt into one
of the men's hands. This man would suddenly commence to pound his
neighbour's posterior, while the rest of the squad shook with
laughter as they watched the slapper belt the arse round the rig
ring. This game was never very popular with those who were slow-footed.
Fort Rompo was our next home and here we came under
long range artillery fire; our next move was to be into the
line. Rumours flew thick and fast, spies was one of the chief
topics and many poor old French women were accused of signalling
to Huns whenever they hung their washing out to dry. Cows in
certain fields, lights at night also came in for comment.
Our battalion was told off to get a raiding party
ready, and one morning "A” Coy. was lined up and volunteers were
called for, every man in the Company stepped forward. The
raiders were chosen, placed under the command of Lieutenant
Harold Wanliss and sent away to a prepared piece of ground where

2.
they rehearsed their raid. By the time they were called for
every man knew his job. The rest of the battalion spent their
time going up to the line at night digging trenches for cables.
Among some men who joined us about this time was a man who
claimed to have been wounded in six places by one bullet. Like a
riddle, it was easy when you knew how. It was hard to believe,
but pulling down his "strides" he showed us where a bulletxxxx had
pierced his left thigh, passed through his unmentionables, and
punctured the right.

2.
they rehearsed their raid. By the time they were called for
every man knew his job. The rest of the battalion spent their
time going up to the line at night digging trenches for cables.
On the 27th June, S.M. Thompson, myself and four others
were sent up into the line for a tour of inspection. The
following night the rest of the Company were to come in and
relieve a Company of the 19th Battalion.
We found the line fairly packed with men and it was
with great difficulty that we managed to do our job. Trenches,
there were none. On account of the sodden nature of the
ground, it was impossible to dig a trench without it filling
with water. To get over the difficulty breastworks were erected
by heaping up earth on each side of the trench; wooden stays,
wire netting, and brush wood kept the earth in place. A fire
step and duck boards completed the job. Here and there dugouts
were made where the men lay when off duty.
About midnight our artillery commenced firing on the
Hun's line; a few minutes later the Huns returned the compliment
and things became very warm in our neighbourhood. Our party,
to make more room in the trench, went out to the rear and crouched
down behind a breastwork. We seemed to be in the line of
fire of a fairly big gun and its shells kept bursting too close
for us to be comfortable. We were discussing the advisability
of seeking safer quarters when one landed just alongside of us.
Crouching as low as we possibly could, we waited for the shower
of earth. When it was over, I heard Paddy Doolan say to his
Irish pal "Phat's that" and between the two of them they informed
the rest of us that we had been sitting alongside the latrini.
To be sure there was no need to inform any of us. We
realized only too well that we were the victims of a disgusting
incident and the thoughts of staying a whole week in our clothes
was not relished by anyone.
However, our Irish friends evidently saw the humorous
side of it; the remarks, choice and otherwise, though hardly
fit to print, were certainly funny.

3.
After darkness had set in on the following night, "C"
Company commenced filing into the trench, and about an hour later,
the 19th Battalion men were on their way to the rear. Just as
soon as the relief had been effected, Harold Thompson suggested
that he and I take a couple of men and go out in front to
inspect our barb wire. As far as patrolling went, Thompson and
I had something in common.
In the last post which the battalion occupied on
Gallipoli, Thompson patrolled our front one half of the night,
and I did the other. Each of us endeavoured to outdo the other
in getting close to the Turks. The old saying fools go where
angels fear to tread applied to me and, I think, Thompson also.
Two incidents almost got my patrol into trouble; one was in
blundering around near a New Zealand post and having a Vickers
turned on to us; fortunately they were rotten shots. The
other was in crawling so close to the Turks line that, but for the
[*xxxx*] fact of one Turk saying something to his mate, we should have
fallen into their post. The Turk was saying in a very emphatic
manner "Emdah, Emdah" I've never been able to find out the
meaning of these words.
Thompson's suggestion was agreeable to me and away he
went to our Coy. Commander to get permission. Having obtained
it, we sought out Captain McGill of the relieved Coy. to give us
an idea regarding the best place to leave from. Upon hearing our
intentions McGill said "Well, I think you are a pair of dam fools,
however I'll show you through the Salley Post, get you through
our wire and you can do what you like."
McGill led the way to the Sally Post and we picked up
Bert Showers and another lad on our way; arriving at the place,
we found a short tunnel under the parapet leading out into No
Man's Land.
Gathered around this place was a small party under an
N.C.O. who were going out just in front of our wire to act as a
listening post. Their orders were to leave at 9.40 but as one

4.
of their men was not ready it did not leave until 10 o'clock and
it was getting darker every minute. The idea was to get this
party out just as soon as there was sufficient darkness to hide
their movements.
When at last the party was ready, McGill led the way.
Thompson and Bert Showers followed, then the listening post party,
and I brought up the rear.
Everybody carried rifles except Thompson and myself;
we carried two Mills bombs apiece. Apart from this everyone had
a bomb besides a rifle.
Once outside the trench we found a narrow lane running
through our barb wire, progress was slow and we were all bunched
up. The outside of our barb wire was about sixty yards from our
trench, and as McGill and about half the party emerged from it,
a sheet of flame from about a dozen Hun rifles flashed from almost
underneath their noses.
I saw McGill in his trench coat throw up his hands, yell
"Help, Help" and fall to the ground.
Thunderstruck, I pulled the pin out of one of my bombs
and flung the pin away. Realizing that men had fallen in front I
hesitated about throwing it. I could see Bert Showers with his
rifle to his shoulder firing at something just in front of him.
The next thing that I realized was a wild scramble back
to our trench. I turned to run also and in doing so got into the
edge of our barbed wire. When at last I got clear of the wire I
again got into difficulties by falling into a narrow drainage
channel about two feet in/depth.
In trying to get out of this my feet sank in the mud.
Over my shoulder I saw the last of our party running like one
possessed, back to safety, and, while pulling and straining to get
clear of the mud, I saw a man coming straight for me. The only
weapon I possessed was a bomb; the pin was already out, but I
dared not throw it; the man was almost on top of me.
Clenching it tightly in my hand, I decided to hit him
as hard as I could. To my great surprise and relief he stumbled

5.
over the same wire that caused my trouble, and plunged head
first into the mud alongside me; his head seemed to disappear
from sight.
Wrenching my feet clear of the mud I got out of
the ditch and reached our trench in record time. I was the
last to arrive.
An officer informed me that Thompson had failed to
put in an appearance, and that, as I was the last in, I would
have to go out and search for him. No one seemed keen on
going with me; I was far from keen myself, but at last a 19th
Battalion machine gunner volunteered to go with me.
Before leaving the trench I saw Captain McGill
being placed on a stretcher. I believe it was he I saw
running back to our lines when stuck in the ditch. Poor McGill
died next day from a bullet wound in the chest. I believe he
was under the impression that he was shot by one of our men.
By what I saw I doubt it very much.
Crawling on our hands and knees, we reached the
scene of the mix up. Going by I looked in the drain for my
mysterious acquaintance but he had vanished. Thompson was laying
on the broad of his back, and as we reached him he was
coming to. Quickly getting him on his feet we guided and helped
him back into the lines. He had a remarkable escape, a
bullet had gone into his head just above his eye and came out
an inch further along.
It was very clear that we had a very aggressive
enemy opposed to us - later we found out that they were the
231st Prussian Reserve. They knew their job all right, and
they carried out their stunt very well. They evidently saw
the track through our barb wire. They also knew that patrols
left the trenches just as soon as darkness set in.
Our trenches were about 300 yards apart and of
course it did not take the Huns long to cover this distance.
They had quite a lot of cover in following an old drainage
channel. Our party being ten minutes late gave the enemy

6.
ample time to get into position opposite the opening in our
wire and give us a good reception. The mistake they made was
in all firing on the leaders of our party instead of seeing
that the whole party received their share.
Several hours later, everyone was settling down to
trench routine; all at once moans and groans were heard out in
No Man's Land. At first no one took much notice of them, everyone
being of the opinion that it was another trap being laid.
Time went on and the moans continued; there was no mistaking
them, the man who was the author of them was in agony.
I went down to the Sally Post and met Darky Edmonstone,
another of our Sergeants. Between us we agreed to go out and
see what the racket was all about. Darky went and obtained
permission, next all sentries were warned that two men were
going out in front and out we went.
I led the way through the wire, Darky followed.
Neither of us would have been the least bit surprised if we'd
been fired on.
At last I reached the place where Thompson was lying
and about twelve feet further along I saw a drain. The moans
were coming from this and I crept cautiously over to it. As I
peered into it I saw a Hun lying on the broad of his back. Even
then I was not sure. Reaching down I took hold of his hand and
said "Commaradi" My fears vanished at once; I shall never
forget the grateful manner in which he tried to express himself.
Realizing that I could not talk to him, he kept repeating
"Commaradi" "Commaradi".
Darky and I were going to try to get him out but
before doing so, we found another Hun about two feet further
along. This fellow was quiet. We made up our minds to have a
further look around and about twelve feet away at the foot of a
tree we found another. He was quiet also.
We came to the conclusion that two of us were useless
to get this lot into our lines and we decided to go back and get
help. Before going I gathered up some souvenirs. A belt,