january 6, 1917
Health of the field armies
In his dispatch Sir Douglas Haig made a statement which is among the most sensational ever put forth by a Commander in the field. He said: “The health of the troops has been most satisfactory, and, during the period to which this dispatch refers, there has been an almost complete absence of wastage due to diseases of a preventable nature.”
That boast is unique in the history of the world. Ten years ago it would have been regarded as evidence of mental instability to suggest that preventable disease could be expelled from any army. The old wars were the starting-points of plagues and epidemics. The history of war was also the history of disease, nor were these two ever separated. Whole armies were swept away by the unseen foe; the hand of pestilence was more to be feared than the onrush of the enemy.
Nor do we need to look far back for examples of the double horror of war and disease. In the Spanish-American War thousands of young men were swept away by typhoid fever. In our own South African War the same disease destroyed battalions. We congratulated ourselves in those days that we had coped successfully with the problem of field hygiene, and yet out of every 100 men lost to the forces only 20 fell to the weapons of the enemy. The unseen foe was responsible for 80 per cent of the total casualties. Pestilence walked with the marching men and brought the strength of the strongest to ruin.
Looked at from the vantage ground of this tremendous war, all these other wars seem insignificant. Yet this war, in which pestilence might have been expected to work almost universal destruction, has been, so far as the Western theatre is concerned, a war without pestilence. The man who has done this is the scientist — the man who has been reviled as an experimenter and torturer of animals, a callous seeker after worthless knowledge, who has nearly always had to face great difficulties, has almost invariably been underpaid, and, as these things are measured nowadays, has had only second-rate honours doled out to him. He is the man who has saved battalions to the Army, preserved countless homes from bereavement, husbanded the young strength of the country, and by so doing sharpened all the weapons of war.
on this day: january 9, 1917
The daylight raid near Arras
In the big raid south-east of Arras yesterday the task involved a front of 2,000 yards. Both English and Scottish troops were engaged. At 11.30am we began a bombardment of exceptional severity. Our airmen, with their usual audacious skill, flew in coveys over the German positions. One pilot came down to within a few hundred feet of the German trenches; and on this part of the front the enemy’s defences are every bit as formidable as they once were on the Somme. Nevertheless, the spotting by our airmen for our artillery was wonderfully well done, as the infantry found when they “went over”. Our men, protected by a smoke barrage, made for the German lines at a few minutes past 3. They met with a reception which surprised them; for the fact is they found no opposition at all worth mentioning. There were some scuffles on the wings, and a little bombing; but, as things go now, not enough to interest our fellows when referring to it afterwards.
The advancing troops reached the German front line to find the wire cut to pieces and the trenches in ruins. But nobody was there — not even a machine-gunner. The place had been vacated. The dug-outs were blown in, the place surveyed — all without any opposition — and the men then advanced to the second line. Here it was the same thing over again. There was such an uncanny ease about the job that it was thought the Boche had designed some new dodge and was waiting to set it working. Having attended to the second line, the troops, still looking for the Boche, went over to hunt for him in his third line. He was not even there. Very definitely he had gone out. The third line, with its wire, was in the same mess as the first, and wherever the ruin was not sufficiently complete it was made so. “Then there was nothing else to do,” explained a Scottish officer to me. He had not got over the surprise. “I got up on the parados of the Boche third-line trench and smoked a cigarette. There was nothing in sight. Once or twice on the way I saw, some distance off, a few Germans scurrying for their lives. But the whole business did not seem real. Even from that back trench I did not see a live German. We got no machine-gun fire when advancing, and the shell fire when going back was not enough to make us hurry.”
http://www.thetimes.co.uk/past-six-days/2017-01-10/register/birds-on-the-western-front-nhmphzxwf
ON THIS DAY: JANUARY 10, 1917
Birds on the Western Front
After another spring and summer of the war in the North of France, I met all my old bird friends of 1915, and two or three fresh ones. About the middle of March a large migration of waders occurred, all going north over the Pas-de-Calais uplands. Peewits, golden plover, curlew, and dunlin could be seen passing, and occasionally resting, every day for a fortnight, and also two or three flocks of geese, followed by the first chiffchaff. In 1915 I failed to see a single woodwren, but last winter I noticed a wood which seemed to me a typical covert, and I was not disappointed, for three pairs of them came to it and no doubt nested. It was a noisy wood in the summer, full of golden orioles and other songsters. The nest of a golden oriole is at least one size too small for the bird, and must be very uncomfortable to sit in. That was a red-letter day, for over and above seeing the oriole’s nest I caught 10 trout on a dry fly in the afternoon, and saw one of my troop teams win a football cup in the evening.
I found the valley of the Ancre full of hoopoes, and of a mysterious silent bird which flitted from reed bed to reed bed. The reeds were too thick to get a sight of this bird except when flying, but, after several days of watching, I got my telescope on to a pair apparently courting in the air over the centre of the pond. They were what I had suspected, little bitterns, and if only I had had a boat I think I could have found the nest.
The indifference of birds and animals to the noise and horrors of war is now well known, but there are six creatures which are more than indifferent, for they positively revel in the life of the trenches, and will be heartily sorry when it is over. They are owls, “Brown” and the “Little,” kestrels, rats, mice, and lice. No doubt the rats and mice would be happier still without the birds they have attracted, but all six have increased beyond measure, and their life is richer and more luxurious than it ever was in times of peace.
Some day, no doubt, in times of peace crowds of all nationalities, among them many who have fought, will visit the battlefields of the Western Front, but if I come back I shall avoid the ruined towns and battered trenches, and refresh pleasanter memories of birds that I have known and trout that I have failed to catch.
http://www.thetimes.co.uk/edition/register/death-of-buffalo-bill-j3wjtz3g5
ON THIS DAY: JANUARY 11, 1917
Death of ‘Buffalo Bill’ Denver, Jan 10. Colonel William F Cody (“Buffalo Bill”) died today. Reuter.
William Frederick Cody, better known as “Buffalo-Bill”, was born in Scott County, Iowa, in 1846. When quite a lad he migrated with his father to the West, where his life of adventure began, and in Kansas his first contact with the lawlessness of the times was experienced. His father had spoken against slavery to a mob who had no sympathy with the negro. A desperado drew a knife and stabbed the elder Cody. As he fell young Cody turned to the assailant, saying, “You have killed my father. When I’m a man I’ll kill you.” Cody died from the effects of the wound in 1857, and the support of the family devolved upon the son. He joined a “bull-train” of overland carriers, and had his first encounter with Indians, and killed his first Indian; for this exploit he was known as the “Boy Indian Slayer”.
During the gold fever in 1860 he made for the fields, but on his way took service as a pony express rider, an occupation that had its perils from Indians and thieves. Then he acted as scout to a trapping expedition, and killed his first bear. In chasing some elk he broke his leg, and had to remain alone for a month while his friend sought assistance 100 miles away. In 1863 he joined the US Army. By this time he was known as a great scout. He was employed on missions within the Confederate lines, and succeeded in obtaining valuable information. Later he was made chief scout of the Fifth Cavalry by General Sheridan.
In 1867 he made a contract for supplying the Kansas Pacific Railway with meat for its employees while the line was being extended through the wilderness, and in 18 months killed 4,820 buffaloes — whence his sobriquet. In 1868-72 he served as a Government scout against the Sioux and Cheyenne, and in the latter year became a member of the Nebraska House of Representatives. During the Sioux-Cheyenne war of 1876 he served in the 5th US Cavalry, and at the battle of Indian Creek killed the Cheyenne chief, Yellow Hand, in single combat. He again served against the Sioux in the Nebraska National Guard in 1800-91. He will be best remembered as the organizer of the “Wild West Show”, which visited Europe first in 1887 and which continued until 1913, when it went into the hands of a receiver.
No comments:
Post a Comment