Bullets & Billets

The Project Guten­berg EBook of Bul­lets & Bil­lets, by Bruce Bairns­fa­ther

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Ti­tle: Bul­lets & Bil­lets

Au­thor: Bruce Bairns­fa­ther

Re­lease Date: Febru­ary 23, 2004 [EBook #11232]

Lan­guage: En­glish

Char­ac­ter set en­cod­ing: ISO-8859-1

*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTEN­BERG EBOOK BUL­LETS & BIL­LETS ***

Pro­duced by Jonathan In­gram, Steven des­Jardins, and Dis­tribut­ed Proof­read­ers

Bul­lets & Bil­lets

By Bruce Bairns­fa­ther

1916

TO MY OLD PALS, “BILL,” “BERT,” AND “ALF,” WHO HAVE SAT IN THE MUD WITH ME

CON­TENTS

CHAP­TER I Land­ing at Havre--Tor­toni's--Fol­low the tram lines--Or­ders for the Front.

CHAP­TER II Tor­tu­ous trav­el­ling--Clip­pers and tablets--Dumped at a sid­ing--I join my Bat­tal­ion.

CHAP­TER III Those Plugstreet trench­es--Mud and rain--Flood­ed out--A hope­less dawn.

CHAP­TER IV More mud--Rain and bul­lets--A bit of cake--“Wind up”--Night rounds.

CHAP­TER V My man Fri­day--“Chuck us the bis­cuits”--Re­lieved--Bil­lets.

CHAP­TER VI The Trans­port Farm--Fleeced by the Flem­ish--Rid­ing--Near­ing Christ­mas.

CHAP­TER VII A pro­ject­ed at­tack---Dig­ging a sap--An 'ell of a night--The at­tack--Punc­tur­ing Prus­sians.

CHAP­TER VI­II Christ­mas Eve--A lull in hate--Briton cum Boche.

CHAP­TER IX Sou­venirs--A ride to Nieppe--Tea at H.Q.--Trench­es once more.

CHAP­TER X My par­tial es­cape from the mud--The de­sert­ed vil­lage--My “cot­tage.”

CHAP­TER XI Stock­tak­ing--For­ti­fy­ing--Neb­ulous Frag­ments.

CHAP­TER XII A brain wave--Mak­ing a “funk hole”--Plugstreet Wood--Snip­ing.

CHAP­TER XI­II Robin­son Cru­soe--That tur­bu­lent ta­ble.

CHAP­TER XIV The Am­phib­ians--Fed-​up, but de­ter­mined--The gun para­pet.

CHAP­TER XV Ar­rival of the “John­sons”--“Where did that one go?”--The First Frag­ment dis­patched--The ex­odus--Where?

CHAP­TER XVI New trench­es--The night in­spec­tion--Let­ter from the _By­stander_.

CHAP­TER XVII Wul­verghem--The Dou­ve--Cor­duroy boards--Back at our farm.

CHAP­TER XVI­II The painter and dec­ora­tor--Frag­ments form­ing--Night on the mud prairie.

CHAP­TER XIX Vi­sions of leave--Dick Turpin--Leave!

CHAP­TER XX That Leave train--My old pal--Lon­don and home--The call of the wild.

CHAP­TER XXI Back from leave--That “blinkin' moon”--John­son 'oles--Tom­my and “fright­ful­ness”--Ex­plor­ing ex­pe­di­tion.

CHAP­TER XXII A day­light stalk--The dis­used trench--“Did they see me?”--A good snip­ing po­si­tion.

CHAP­TER XXI­II Our moat­ed farm--Wul­verghem--The Curé's house--A shat­tered Church--More “heav­ies”--A farm on fire.

CHAP­TER XXIV That ra­tion fa­tigue--Sketch­es in re­quest--Bailleul--Baths and lu­natics--How to con­duct a war.

CHAP­TER XXV Get­ting stale--Long­ing for change--We leave the Dou­ve--On the march--Spot­ted fever--Ten days' rest.

CHAP­TER XXVI A pleas­ant change--Suzette, Berthe and Marthe--“La je­une fille farouche”--An­dré.

CHAP­TER XXVII Get­ting fit--Car­ica­tur­ing the Curé--“Dirty work ahead”--A pro­ject­ed at­tack--Un­looked-​for or­ders.

CHAP­TER XXVI­II We march for Ypres--Halt at Locre--A bleak camp and mea­gre fare--Signs of bat­tle--First view of Ypres.

CHAP­TER XXIX Get­ting near­er--A lugubri­ous par­ty--Still near­er--Blaz­ing Ypres--Or­ders for at­tack.

CHAP­TER XXX Rain and mud--A try­ing march--In the thick of it--A wound­ed of­fi­cer--Heavy shelling--I get my “qui­etus!”

CHAP­TER XXXI Slow­ly re­cov­er­ing--Field hos­pi­tal--Am­bu­lance train--Back in Eng­land.

LIST OF IL­LUS­TRA­TIONS

Bruce Bairns­fa­ther: a pho­to­graph

The Birth of “Frag­ments”: Scrib­bles on the farm­house walls

That As­tro­nom­ical An­noy­ance, the Star Shell

“Plugstreet Wood”

A Hope­less Dawn

The usu­al line in Bil­let­ing Farms

“Chuck us the bis­cuits, Bill. The fire wants mendin'”

“Shut that blinkin' door. There's a 'ell of a draught in 'ere”

A Mem­ory of Christ­mas, 1914

The Sen­try

A Messines Mem­ory: “'Ow about shiftin' a bit fur­ther down the road, Fred?”

“Old sol­diers nev­er die”

Pho­to­graph of the Au­thor. St. Yvon, Christ­mas Day, 1914

Off “in” again

“Poor old Mag­gie! She seems to be 'avin' it dread­ful wet at 'ome!”

The Tin-​open­er

“They're dev­ils to snipe, ain't they, Bill?”

Old Bill

FORE­WORD

_Down South, in the Val­ley of the Somme, far from the spots record­ed in this book, I be­gan to write this sto­ry._

_In bil­lets it was. I strolled across the old farm­yard and in­to the wood be­yond. Sit­ting by a gur­gling lit­tle stream, I be­gan, with the aid of a note­book and a pen­cil, to record the joys and sor­rows of my first six months in France._

_I do not claim any unique qual­ity for these ex­pe­ri­ences. Many thou­sands have had the same. I have mere­ly, by re­quest, made a record of my times out there, in the way that they ap­peared to me_.

BRUCE BAIRNS­FA­THER.