Fighting with French: A Tale of the New Army
Herbert Strang
Produced by Al Haines.
Cover]
A FOUL BLOW (_See p_. 52.)]
FIGHTING WITH FRENCH
_A TALE OF THE NEW ARMY_
BY HERBERT STRANG
_WITH ILLUSTRATIONS IN COLOUR BY CYRUS CUNEO_
LONDON HENRY FROWDE HODDER AND STOUGHTON
_First published in_ 1915
PREFACE
In these days one would rather fight than write; and those of us whominexorable Time has superannuated can but envy and admire.
Seven years ago the father of two boys at Rugby asked me to write astory on the German peril, and the necessity of closing our ranksagainst a possible invasion. After some hesitation I decided to declinethe suggestion, anxious not to insinuate in young minds a suspicion ofGermany which might prove to be ill-founded. Two years later, when thesubject was again pressed upon me, I felt bound to attempt some littleservice in the cause of national defence; but again I avoided any directimplication of Germany, imagining an invasion of Australia by anaggressive China. In two or three books I had poked a little fun atGerman foibles, how harmlessly and inoffensively may be known by thefact that one of these books was translated into German. The course ofevents, the horrors of the present war, show how needless were myscruples. Germany has come out in her true colours, and the mildest ofpacifists feels a stirring of the blood.
In _A Hero of Liege_ I wove a little romance upon the early events ofthe war, when we were still under the shock of surprise and informationwas scanty. The present story has been written under more favourableconditions. A good deal of it springs from personal knowledge of thetraining of the New Army. The "Rutland Light Infantry" exists, underanother name, and one or two of the characters may perhaps be recognisedby their friends. But I should point out that a story is not a history.The history of this great struggle must be sought elsewhere. Theromancer is satisfied if he is reasonably true to facts andprobabilities, and more than happy if his fictions, while amusing anidle hour, have also anything of stimulus and encouragement.
HERBERT STRANG.
CONTENTS
CHAP.
I A CHANCE MEETINGII SHARE AND SHARE ALIKEIII STONEWAY ENLISTSIV THREE ROUNDSV THE BACK OF THE FRONTVI BAGGING A SNIPERVII IN THE ENEMY'S LINESVIII SKY HIGHIX D.C.M.X HOT WORKXI THE DISAPPEARANCE OF GINGERXII DOGGEDXIII THE FIGHT FOR THE VILLAGEXIV THE HIKIOTOSHIXV THE OBSERVATION POSTXVI EXCHANGE NO ROBBERYXVII STRATEGYXVIII USES OF A TRANSPORT LORRYXIX SUSPICIONSXX MONSIEUR OBERNAI'S ATTICXXI MARKED DOWNXXII 'RECOMMENDED'
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
A FOUL BLOW . . . . . . _Frontispiece_ (_see page_ 52)
"HANDS UP!"
A LONG WAY BACK
THE INTRUDER IN KHAKI
CHAPTER I
A CHANCE MEETING
Mr. Kishimaru smiled, and rubbed his long lean hands gently the one overthe other.
"Yes, Mr. Amory, you make great progress," he said, in low smooth tones,and with the careful enunciation of one speaking a foreign tongue. "Youwill be an artist. Yes, I assure you: jujutsu is a fine art; more thanthat, it is an application of pure science. I say that, and I know.Compare it with boxing, that which your grandfathers called the nobleart. Rapidity of movement, yes; quickness of eye and judgment, yes; butdelicacy of touch--ah! jujutsu has it, boxing no. There is nothingbrutal about jujutsu."
Kenneth Amory smiled back at the enthusiastic little Japanese, andrubbed his left shoulder.
"Nothing brutal, I agree," he said. "But it has been a dry summer, Mr.Kishimaru."
"A dry summer?" the Japanese repeated, still smiling, but with an air ofpuzzlement.
"Yes; the turf's uncommonly hard, and I came down a pretty good whackthat last time."
"I am sorry. You have not quite recovered your strength yet, or youwould not have fallen so heavily. But you do well; it is good exercise,for body and mind too. A little rest, and we will try another throw."
Kenneth Amory was seated on a bench on the lawn where, in summer, Mr.Kishimaru instructed his pupils in the fine art of jujutsu. He wore aloose white belted tunic and shorts: head and legs were bare. Mr.Kishimaru, a wiry little Japanese of about thirty-five, similarly clad,walked up and down, expounding the principles of his art.
A bell rang in the house. The garden door opened, and a tall youngfellow of some twenty years came with quick step on to the lawn.
"Hullo, Kishimaru!" he cried. "How do? Have you got a minute?" Heglanced towards the figure on the bench, but did not wait for an answer."Just back from Canada--to enlist. Got to smash the Germans, you know.But look here; just spare a minute to show me the Koshinage, will you?I was in a lumber camp, you know, out west; lumbering's hard work; nocricket or anything else; had to do something; taught 'em jujutsu, oddtimes, you know. But the Koshinage--I fairly came to grief over that:tried it on a big chap, and came a regular cropper. Made me look prettysmall; I'd been explaining that I'd throw any fellow, no matter how big.Somehow it didn't come off: must have forgotten something, I suppose.I've only got a few minutes; have to catch the 4.30 at St. Pancras; justput me through it once or twice, there's a good chap."
Mr. Kishimaru rubbed his hands all through this impetuous address. Hewas always pleased to see an old pupil, and Harry Randall, voluble,always in a hurry, had been one of his best pupils a year or two before.
"I am delighted to see you, Mr. Randall," he said. "If you willchange----"
"No time for that. I'll strip to my shirt, be ready in a winking."
He threw off coat and waistcoat, wrenched off his collar, with someperil to the stud, and knotting his braces about his waist, stood ready.Meanwhile Mr. Kishimaru had stepped to the bench.
"The Koshinage is the exercise we have been practising, Mr. Amory," hesaid. "Perhaps you will be good enough to go through it with Mr.Randall, an old pupil. I will watch, and criticise if necessary."
Amory sprang up. In the newcomer he had at once recognised aschoolfellow--Randy, they used to call him; a fellow everybody liked;impulsive, generous, easy-going, always in scrapes, always ready toargue with boys or masters. They had left school at the same time, andhad not seen each other since.
Mr. Kishimaru explained to Randall that his pupil would practise theexercise with him, and was about to introduce the two formally. ButRandall anticipated him.
"Hullo, Amory!" he cried. "It's you. Didn't recognise you. Come on; notime to spare."
Without more ado they took up position for the exercise, holding eachother as though they were going to waltz. Then they made one or tworapid steps, Mr. Kishimaru skipping round them, intently watching theirmovements. With a sudden turning on his toes and bending of the knees,Amory dragged Randall from behind on to his right hip. A jerk of theleft arm and the straightening of the knees lifted Randall's feet fromthe ground, and in another moment he was hoisted over Amory's hip to hisleft front and deposited on his back.
"Excellent! Excellent!" cried Mr. Kishimaru.
"Just what I tried to do with big Heneky, and came bash to the groundwith him on top of me," said Randall. "But it's knack, not strength.I'm heavier than Amory. Show me the trick."
Mr. Kishimaru placed them again in position, showed Randall how to getadvantage in the preliminary grip, and left them. In a few seconds Amorywas thro
wn.
"You have it, Mr. Randall," said the Japanese, rubbing his hands withpleasure. "It is like a problem in chess: white to play and mate inthree moves. It is inevitable, given the position; it is mathematics,mechanics, applied to the muscular human frame..."
"That's all right, old chap," interrupted Randall. "Knack, I call it.Once more, Amory, then I must be off."
But at the third attempt he failed, and he would not be satisfied untilhe had performed the feat three times in succession. Then, looking athis watch, he found that he was too late for his train.
"Can't be helped," he said. "I'll go down to-morrow. Come along to myhotel, Amory: haven't said how-de-do yet. We'll have some grub and atalk. But you've got to change. Can't wait. I'll do some shopping andwire home to the governor; you'll find me at the Arundel. Dinner sevensharp: don't be late."
"The same old Randy!" thought Amory, smiling as he went into the houseto change.
At seven o'clock he found Randall walking restlessly up and down infront of the hotel.
"Here you are. I've bagged a table. It's jolly to see you againafter--how long is it? Remember Shovel? He's got a commission in theFusiliers. Give me your hat. Want a wash? I landed yesterday; come6000 miles, by Jove!"
And so, darting from one subject to another, he led the way to thecoffee-room. Before the soup arrived he started again.
"Heard the news right away in the backwoods. Lot of Germans andAustrians in the camp. They began to crow. I slipped away; had totramp ten days to the rail. Gave a hint to the police, and hope allthose aliens are now in gaol. Extraordinary enthusiasm in Canada, oldchap. They wanted me to join their contingent, but I'd already appliedfor a commission at home. People here seem to take things very coolly.It'll be a bigger thing than they realise. And this rot in the papersabout the Germans' funk--running away, crying their eyes out! Stupidnonsense, believe me. Had a letter in New York from my governor. Jollyexciting voyage, I can tell you. All lights out; wireless goingconstantly; alarm one night: German cruiser fifty miles away. We allcrowded on deck. By and by lookout signalled a vessel. We held ourbreath: turned out to be a British cruiser. Captain gave our skipperinstructions for the course. We took ten days instead of five. What'llyou drink?"
Amory having intimated his modest choice Randall went on:
"Things'll have to wake up here. My governor's men are a lot ofrotters. Wrote me that out of five hundred or so only about a dozen had'listed. Disgraceful, I call it. I'd sack 'em, but I know the governorwon't; he's against compulsion. I'm going down to-morrow to stir 'emup. Haven't come 6000 miles for nothing. By the way, what are youdoing? You were a sergeant in the O.T.C. Of course you'd get acommission right away. I shall never forget your cheek. Nearly died oflaughing when you went up to the O.C. and asked him to make you acorporal. 'What for?' says he. 'I've been a private long enough, sir,'says you, as cool as you please. But I say, what are you doing?"
"I've been rather seedy," said Amory, amused at his friend's chatter,but not yet disposed to tell him that he had already seen service inBelgium.
"But you're fit now, eh? You'll apply?"
"Yes, I suppose I shall."
"Why, hang it all, man, why suppose? They're awfully slow at the WarOffice. I applied at once; passed the doctor and all that. I shan'twait much longer. There's a Public School Corps forming; I shall jointhat. I daresay they'll give me a platoon. I say, why not join too?We're sure to find a lot of our old fellows in it; we might make up acompany. I hate waiting about. What do you say?"
"I'll think it over."
"Oh, I say, man, what rot! I tell you I've come 6000 miles to join.You used to be keen enough." A cloud of disappointment, almost ofaffront, hovered upon his face. Then suddenly he flashed a look ofmingled horror and disgust at his friend. "You don't tell me you're aprofessional footballer?" he muttered.
"No, no," replied Amory with a laugh. "Don't be alarmed, Randy; I shan'tsit at home and read the papers."
"That's all right, then. But do make up your mind, there's a good chap.I tell you what, what's your address? I'll wire you to-morrow when I'vehad a go at the governor's men. Twelve out of five hundred!--no wonderthe poor old governor is biffy. It's a disgrace. Well, I'll wire you;let you know how I get on as a recruiting officer. Then we'll meetsomewhere. Find out the headquarters of the Public School Corps, willyou? and make up your mind to join that with me. It won't spoil yourchance of a commission--perhaps hurry it up. Anyway, it will be jolly tobe together.... Waiter, bring me some more of that souffle. You don'tget things like that in the backwoods, Amory."
