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Updated: June 8, 2025
The others went on with the crowd, but I could not start my engine. After trying for five minutes it seemed to me absurd to retreat, so I went back and found that apparently nobody had given the order. The other motor-cyclists returned one by one as soon as they could get clear, but most of them were carried on right past the farm.
She will not be wooed by cyclists, motorists, goggled motor-cyclists, and the rest: she is not like a modern young lady who, despite ideals, must marry, and will take men as they are found in her day and generation. The woman of the woods who dresses herself in flowers, and whose voice is as birds' songs, is the same yesterday, to-day, and to-morrow not new-fangled.
Headquarters positively sizzled with the most expensive preparations. At a given word the Staff were to dash out in motor-cars to a disreputable tavern, so that they could see the shells bursting. A couple of despatch riders were to keep with them in order to fetch their cars when the day's work was over. A mobile reserve of motor-cyclists was to be established in a farm under cover.
But I cannot remember giving a thought to the fact, so absorbing to the unaccustomed eye were all the accumulating signs of the actual battle-line; the endless rows of motor-lorries, either coming back from, or going up to the front, now with food, now with ammunition, reserve trenches to right and left of the road; a "dump" or food-station, whence carts filled from the heavy lorries go actually up to the trenches, lines of artillery wagons, parks of ammunition, or motor-ambulances, long lines of picketed horses, motor-cyclists dashing past.
I was left behind with the H.Q.S., which had collected itself, and was sent a few minutes later to 2nd Corps H.Q. at Ham, a ride of about fifteen miles. On the way I stopped at an inn and discovered there three or four of our motor-cyclists, who had cut across country, and an officer. The officer told us how he had been sent on to construct trenches at Le Cateau.
The Signal Clerk sat at a table behind the cottage, while round him, or near him, were the motor-cyclists and cyclists. About the battle itself you know as much as I. We had wires out to all the brigades, and along them the news would come and orders would go. The are holding their position satisfactorily. Our flank is being turned. Should be very grateful for another battalion.
I tried every road leading out of the town. Finally, having no map, and consequently being unable to make a really thorough search, I had a drink, and started off back. When I returned I found everybody was getting ready to move, so I packed up. This time the motor-cyclists rode in advance of the column. About two miles out I found that the others had dropped behind out of sight.
The six motor-cyclists leaped on to their machines and went chugging down the road. Of course they raced one another; all motor-cyclists always race and here was the best of all possible excuses, the French army in dire need of them, several of its precious cycle-units wiped out or captured!
It seemed a shame that we motor-cyclists should head the retreat of our little column. I could not understand how the men could laugh and joke. It was blasphemous. They ought to be cursing with angry faces, at the least, to be grave and sorrowful.
Add to all this the armies of clerks, despatch riders, and motor-cyclists and the immense hospital personnel then, if you make any intelligible picture of it in your mind, you will have some idea of what bases like these mean.
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