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Updated: June 2, 2025
What name?" interrupted the M.L.O. There was war forty miles away, and no time to argue with a young subaltern. "What name, you?" "Ray, sir. East Cheshires." "Rest Camp, Mudros." "But is it for long, sir?" ventured I. "Next, please. What name, padre?" "Monty," answered our friend. "East Cheshires."
He will not take part in this battle unless required. He is on 'battle reserve'; and so are Barlow and Smith as they have arrived so recently, and have not practised the 'stunt. Harwood is liaison officer with the 1/6th Cheshires on our left. "A and B Companies had a very lively time at dinner this 'X' evening. West was acting the fool and making us all laugh.
They were packed with yellow-clad and helmeted soldiers, who were as noisy about their entrance as the great ships were silent. Tommy, coming into harbour at the end of a voyage, had a habit of announcing his approach. So, when we on the land heard over the water shouting, singing, genial oaths, "How-d'ye-do's," and "What-ho's"; and such advices as "Cheerioh! The Cheshires are here!"
And, almost immediately after that distant battle of the Helles beaches, in the early days of May, when England was all blossom and bud, our First Line of the Cheshires was landed on Gallipoli to support the 29th Division. The news was all over the regiment in no time. The First Line had gone to the Dardanelles! Had we heard the latest? The First Line were actually on Gallipoli!
Suddenly there was a knock at the door and in walked Captain M , who reported his arrival with 200 reinforcements for the Cheshires, a pleasant but irritating addition. The situation was further complicated by the general's discovery that M was senior to the officer then in command of the Cheshires. Poor M was not left long in command.
I cannot understand why we were not sniped; logically we ought to have been; but, fortunately, the enemy were not logical on this occasion. We found the party of the Cheshires and then crept back. We were walking over the same ground where the recent bombing raid had taken place. I am glad the enemy did not do a stunt while we were there! Kerr and Telfer were behind us, wiring.
Apparently the East Cheshires are holding an awkward position on a place called Fusilier Bluff, and being killed like stink by a well-placed whizz-bang gun. They've got about fifty men and half an officer left per company. They're screaming for reinforcements. Salt and pepper, please. Thanks." "Where is this Fusilier Bluff, sir?" asked I. "At Suvla or Helles?"
On the previous day I had ridden to Violaines at dawn to draw a plan of the Cheshires' trenches for the general. I strolled out by the sugar factory, and had a good look at the red houses of La Bassée. Half an hour later a patrol went out to explore the sugar factory. They did not return. It seems that the factory was full of machine-guns.
He was charming to me; I was particularly grateful for the loan of a razor, for my own had disappeared and there were no despatch riders handy from whom I could borrow. Talking of the Cheshires reminds me of a story illustrating the troubles of a brigadier. The general was dining calmly one night after having arranged an attack. All orders had been sent out. Everything was complete and ready.
A sense of the eerie was upon me, and for a second I thought it was Doe's voice. "D Company," I called hollowly, "10th East Cheshires." "Ah, good!" repeated the voice, which was Monty's. And he stepped out of the night, giving me another nasty turn, for it was like some unexpected presence coming from the darkest corner of a room. He sat down beside me, and began to talk.
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