The Post of Honour - Richard Wilson

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      It will readily be seen that the engineers who carry out this work of destruction have a very dangerous task to perform. They are the last men to leave the scene of action, and their destructive work holds up the pursuit.

      In an advance the engineers go first, in a retreat they stay last; so that, on the whole, this “arm” of the forces is always in the post of danger, which is the post of honour.

      Near the end of the first month of the war, Lance-Corporal Jarvis of the Royal Engineers won the V.C. for a piece of work which was carried out under a persistent and steady fire. He went out alone in a boat on the River Jemmapes, and worked steadily for an hour and a half in fixing and firing charges for the destruction of a bridge.

      The bullets whistled about his ears, and the shells burst all round him on the bridge and below it; but the brave fellow worked coolly on until his task was finished—and properly finished too—and then got away unharmed. His devotion to duty had been of great value to his own side in a way which does not need further explanation.

      The L Battery of the Royal Horse Artillery is now known all over the world for its gallant stand at the beginning of September 1914.

      Field-guns and machine-guns were pounding away at this battery at a range of no more than 600 yards. All the officers fell, dead or wounded, and the men looked round for directions. Then Sergeant-Major Dorrell took charge of one gun and continued to serve it steadily until all the ammunition was used up.

      Sergeant Nelson took command of another, and although severely wounded, kept grimly to his task until the shells had all been fired, when the shattered battery was relieved. Its steadiness had been of the greatest use in the engagement; and the two men who had thus proved their right to lead were not only given the V.C. but were made commissioned officers.

      About a fortnight later, Bombardier Horlock of the Royal Field Artillery won the Cross by a wonderful display of fortitude, persistence, and a kind of disobedience a little akin to that of Lord Nelson at Copenhagen. His battery had not been long in action when a shell burst under his gun and he was wounded in the right thigh. He was told to go to the hospital, but went first to a dressing-station where he was bandaged and sent on to the rear. But he went back to the battery and five minutes later was hit again.

      For a second time he came before the doctor, was given first-aid, and was then placed in charge of an orderly who was told to take him to the field-hospital farther back. On the way Horlock told his companion that there were many poor fellows who needed help much more than he did, and that he could find his way alone with perfect ease.

      The orderly fell into the trap, and no sooner had he gone out of sight than Horlock limped back again to his battery and went on serving his gun. A little later, he was wounded in the arm, but, brave as he was, did not dare to face the doctor for the third time. He stayed with his comrades until the end of the day, and was at last picked up and taken to hospital.

      Drummer Bent of the East Lancashires was the kind of soldier who is “good at need,” ready for any job which comes his way, and the more dangerous the work the better worth doing. The man who brings up the ammunition to the firing line seems to be merely a kind of porter; but when his work is carefully considered he is easily seen to be very important indeed. And when he does that work in the open under heavy fire without the excitement of taking a hand in the fighting, he is surely among the bravest of the brave. And this was the kind of work which first drew attention to Drummer Bent, who was only twenty-two years of age.

      Having learnt that the oft-repeated sentence “every bullet has its billet” is merely a silly saying, Bent was quite ready to face fire on another occasion. Several wounded men were lying in the open and he went out to bring some of them under cover. This heroic action alone was worthy of the highest reward, for it showed that disregard of self which is the root of all true heroism; but Bent was to do still more than this.

      One dark night in November, a portion of his regiment was holding a certain position of some importance. The enemy made a fierce attack and the three officers in charge were struck down. Then Bent took command and, under his cool direction, the position was held until relief came. The young soldier had nobly earned the Cross which he afterwards received.

      You will remember how Indian troops came to the help of Britain in the Great War and how some of them fought very bravely in Northern France. It is said that there was great rejoicing in India when news reached that country that two of the native soldiers had won the Victoria Cross.

      These were Naik (i.e. Corporal) Darwan Sing Negi and Sepoy Khudadad, who were the first soldiers of India to receive the highest military honour that it was in the power of their Emperor to grant.

      Naik Darwan Sing Negi was in action one night in late November near Festubert in France. Certain trenches had been taken by the enemy and his regiment was given the task of recapturing them. This was a very difficult piece of work, for it meant hand-to-hand bayonet fighting in narrow passages half filled with water, where a fighter had little elbow-room and, if he went first in an attack, could get very little help from his comrades.

      The Garhwal Rifles, to which the Corporal belonged, rushed to the attack with fierce shouts and flashing eyes. Darwan Sing Negi was wounded more than once, but he stuck to his work with grim valour, fighting his way foot by foot along the narrow passages, and striking terror into the hearts of his enemies.

      When the stern work had been well done, the company fell in and it was found that the Corporal was very badly wounded; but he received his reward a little later at the hands of King George himself, who first visited the British lines in December 1914.

      Sepoy Khudadad was fighting in Belgium and was one of a machine-gun section which was told off to support the 5th Lancers. The place in which he fought was heavily bombarded by the enemy and the machine-gun company suffered greatly. In a short time one of their two guns was put out of action.

      The six men who manned the second gun fought with splendid bravery until the Germans rushed the position in great numbers and struck down five of them. Sepoy Khudadad saw his chance to escape, but stayed behind for a time in order to make his gun useless before it fell into the hands of the enemy. Then he slipped away to a place of safety, to the great surprise of the Germans, each of whom probably thought that some one else had secured him! He was, however, very badly wounded; and when King George came over to France the Indian hero was too ill to receive at his hands the Cross which was afterwards given to him in London.

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      The old story of Sir Philip Sidney might well be written in letters of gold upon the wall of every school in the Empire. It will be remembered that he fought at Zutphen in Eastern Holland during the reign of Queen Elizabeth, and that he was mortally wounded in the thigh with a musket-ball. The immortal tale is told in the following words by his friend, Fulke Greville:—

      “Being thirsty with excess of bleeding, he called for drink which was presently brought him; but as he was putting the bottle to his mouth, he saw a poor soldier carried along, who had eaten his last at the same feast, casting up his eyes at the bottle. Which Sir Philip perceiving, took it from his head before he drank, and delivered it to the poor man with these words, ‘Thy necessity is yet greater than mine.’ ”

      Over and over again the brave fighters on the Western Front showed that the spirit of Sir Philip Sidney still lived and that it survived under conditions of horror and misery such as no soldier of Queen Elizabeth ever saw. Discipline and self-denial showed themselves in situations where the most severe judge might well forgive a man for thinking only of himself and his pressing and immediate needs. Here is one incident of the retirement from Mons.

      Major Fawcett was in charge of two ambulance wagons and a water-cart, and saw with pity and anxiety that the poor wounded soldiers were suffering untold agonies owing to their long ride over rough and uneven ground. He therefore made up his mind to call a halt in order that the men might be refreshed with some beef-tea. The wagons were drawn up by the wayside,

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