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Updated: May 19, 2025
The chief race was won by Signaller Stanton. Towards the end of July, as there was no sign of the long expected German attack, preparations were made for the coming winter. Houses were reinforced, and had concrete houses built inside them, and some very comfortable Headquarters were built in this way.
Advertisements like this; Desmond reflected dreamily, meant legacies as a rule; he was glad of it, for the sake of Barling whom he hadn't seen since the far-away days of Aldershot before the war. "Buzzer" Barling was the brother of one Private Henry Barling who had been Desmond's soldier-servant. He derived the nickname of "Buzzer" from the fact that he was a signaller.
"Oh, well, I had it from fairly good authority that they were going in to-morrow night." Barry hunted up Monroe, whom he found talking to a signaller of the battalion. "Did you boys hear anything about the battalion going up to-morrow?" "Yes, sir," said the signaller promptly. "We had it over the wires. They are going in, all right, to-morrow night." Monroe kicked the signaller on the ankle.
THE ADJUTANT. Is that B Company? Then for the Lord's sake get off the line! THE MOSQUITO. Ping! Ping! THE ADJUTANT. And stop that buzzing! THE MOSQUITO. Ping! Ping! THE F.O.O. Is that C Battery? There's What's that you're sayin'? Is that C Battery? There's an enemy working-party in a coppice at FIRST CHATTY SIGNALLER. This is Beer Company, sir. Weel, Jock, did ye get a quiet nicht?
Her eyes wandered; she looked at, but scarcely saw the lovely wildflowers under foot, the butterflies flashing their burnished wings among the sunbeams. "Drop her arm." The signaller let go and stood at attention. "Take her knife and pistol and your flags and go across the stream to the hut."
Barry's tone admitted no further talk, and Monroe, swearing deeply at his friend the signaller and at his own stupidity, and especially at his own "lack of nerve to see his lie through," hunted out Barry's baggage and stood ready for his officer to return. "Hello, Dunbar," said the major, as he saw Barry about to mount his horse. "What's up? Forgotten something? You'll surely miss your train."
One Infantry Brigade Headquarters, with whom I kept in intermittent touch, occupied four successive positions, miles apart, in the course of twelve hours. About noon I came to a ruined village, Tezze. I went on to reconnoitre it with one signaller.
He let them down into the water, so that the weight might swing them inboard, while the other signaller struggled manfully with a hayrake to grapple them; and the Captain cursed and Mac flushed all over, knowing that every ship in the fleet was grinning at them. Two days out from King George's Sound the fleet was joined by two more transports with Australian troops from Fremantle.
"All richt; that'll be Haslemere," says Private M'Micking, scribbling down the word. "Go on, Sandy!" Private Wamphray, pausing to expectorate, continues "R-e-c-o-n-n-o-i-t-r Cricky, what a worrd! Let's hae it repeatit." Wamphray flaps his flag vigorously, he knows this particular signal only too well, and the word comes through again. The distant signaller, slowing down a little, continues,
Nearer and nearer crept the girl, until, lying flat behind a beech-tree, she rested within earshot so close, indeed, that she could smell the cigarette which the officer had lighted smell, even, the rank stench of the sulphur match. Meanwhile the signaller had laid aside his flags and while the officer looked on he picked up a heavy sapling from among the fallen trees.
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