Machine Gunner, 1914–18 by C. E. Crutchley

Author:C. E. Crutchley
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Pen & Sword Books
Published: 2013-02-14T16:00:00+00:00

Here is another story of the same Company by one of their officers.

They had never been so utterly exhausted. Three times they had been promised relief and had to go forward to support another attack. Now, at last, they were away from the front line and were to rest in a farm house a few miles back, but many of the Company were having the utmost difficulty in getting there. Men were collapsing by the wayside, others sleeping as they marched in the ranks. They had reached the state where they did not care whether they lived or died, all they could do was to crawl slowly away from the scenes of battle, utterly weary and spent.

At last they reached the farm house which was of the usual sort, described as a ‘rectangular block of building with a triangular shell in the middle’. The men took off their equipment and sat all round the yard with their backs against the walls. They looked the picture of exhaustion and misery. While tea was brewing in the kitchen, suddenly was heard the last sound which could possibly have been expected.

If it had been the roar of a shell arriving it would not have surprised anybody, but a peal of laughter was astounding! Through the shattered window could be seen what was causing it. In the middle of the yard lay the remains of a motor car. It had no wheels and bore shrapnel marks all over it. One machine-gunner was sitting at the wheel and another was about to get in. Apparently they were going to Blackpool for the weekend, and were telling each other what they were going to do when they got there. No holds barred, no details suppressed, and lurid reference to previous trips and to sundry female characters of doubtful virtue. Each episode was greeted by peals of laughter. The two men doing the clowning were not the best machine-gunners in the company but they had that wonderful something which prompted them, weary as they were, to entertain and revive their comrades, to divert their minds from the shock and horror of the last few days and to restore their shaken morale. Men like that were worth their weight in gold.

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