Angels at Mons

by Carl Leckey

  Toot jumps up excitedly. “Tanks, bloody tanks and they are ours. This could be our way out Scouse. Yippee. Sweet Jesus! I have heard of them but never encountered these monsters before.”

  The din becomes horrendous as they approach our trench line. Along with the roar of engines and the clank of tracks I detect the rapid fire of machine guns and bullets striking and ricocheting off metal.

  I identify this sound as similar to the rivet guns I have heard around the shipyards on Merseyside.

  At the far end of the trench a monster begins climbing over the gap between the trench sides, it pauses for a moment until its tracks find firm ground then continues creeping forward. Soil and debris collapse into the trench almost completely filling it. The sight and sounds scare me stiff and hold me rigid with fear until Toot grabs my shoulder indicating I should follow him. We scramble up the loose scree until finally we are on the pockmarked surface. After a few panic stricken steps feeling as if I am exposed to the whole German Army I make it unscathed to the shelter of a the rear end of a tank. I have this vision of a Mother Goose waddling along with her brood tucked safely in behind her.

  Other soldiers crouch behind the tanks enormous welcoming backside, slowly we advance at a barely walking pace. Bullets whistle passed, but for the moment at least we are safe behind the protective monster.

  A rolling barrage laid down by our gunners drops just ahead of the advance, surely nothing can live through that man made Hell. I glance to both sides and see a number of tanks moving in line abreast. Masses of infantrymen with bayonets fixed are advancing towards the enemy positions behind the tanks.

  Then above the din and clatter of battle I identify another sound, the cheers of thousands of soldiers. What an uplifting experience, I feel so proud despite my shitty pants to be a part of this great Army at last.

  As the tank began to transverse yet another line of trenches at Toots signal we drop into one. We are welcomed by a trench packed by fully equipped soldiers with bayonet fixed ready to go over the top. A young lieutenant stands next to me holding a whistle to his lips and a revolver in his other hand. He recognises us as friendly soldiers and totally ignores us as he prepares to join the battle.

  A whistle blows further down the line, the lieutenant responds by blowing his own signal then without hesitation over the top they go.

  I slump down onto of all things a seaside deck chair, stamped across the canvasback is the legend Property of Margate Corporation.

  I have to wonder how the chair is now so far from the seaside town in England. My heart thumps as the adrenaline still pumps through my body. I have never in my whole life been so thrilled, excited and finally glad to be alive.

  At that moment of exultation I believe I understand why men became professional soldiers, there has to be no greater thrill than gambling with one’s own life. The feeling quickly evaporates when I observe the bodies laid out ready for disposal the reality and horror of the war returns with a bang

  As usual Toot doesn’t hang about he sets off on a scavenging trip seeking food and drink. Topside the rattle of machinegun and mortar fire becomes more intense, the only occupants left in the trench beside Toot and me are the three laid out Corpses.

  I take the opportunity to discard my soiled under pants and clean myself up. God I hope none of the soldiers returns and catches me with my pants down. I have to laugh at the thought of that as I struggle to pull my pants back on over my muddy boots. I have to cut off and abandon my putties as they are stiff with mud.

  As I crouch down I notice one of the bodies has a brightly coloured knitted woollen scarf around his neck. The knitted in writing draws my attention, I still can’t read properly but am now able to pick out individual words and letters.

  Toot returns and sees me examining the scarf he bends down and reads the message out loud for my benefit.

  “Daddy please wear this scarf to keep you warm and safe from harm.” There is more writing but a shell splinter has driven the end of the scarf into his chest obliterating it.

  “Did not do him much good did it?” Toot observes cynically as he strips the gas mask cases from the bodies. “We’ve got more use for them than these poor sods.” He replies when I weakly protest.

  “Come on Scouse I’ve found a nice cosy dugout up yonder it’s dry and warm and there is some tucker in there.”

  Toot had lit the Tilley lamp when he located this wonderful Heaven amongst Hell. What a wonderful place is the underground sanctuary and reminds me of the tunnels I discovered back at the station. Pinned to the wall is a map board, the bunker is fitted with a table six chairs and a couple of field telephones. At the far end of the bunker located in an alcove are two sets of bunks. They are already made up neatly with blankets and pillows. The builders have dug the bunker deep enough below ground to practically eliminate the sound of fighting above.

  Toot points out. “I bet this bunker was made by the Huns I’ve seen em before. I’ve got to hand it to old Fritz he builds brilliant underground systems. The buggers can shell this area for ever and it won’t touch us down here.” After searching about, Toot locates the rum store. Every serving soldier in the front line is entitled to a rum ration every day.

  I never usually bother with mine and give it to my mates. Today I take the rum straight from the bottle.

  I feel every drop as it burns its way down my throat until finally a warm glow begins to radiate from my stomach.

  Although there is no form of heating in the bunker except the hurricane lamps and candles it’s certainly a snug place to be.

  I didn’t realise until we are under cover how very cold my body has become, the bottom and back of my great coat is stiff with dry mud, I strip off down to my battle dress and remove my boots. The luxury of being free from the matted clothing is a wonderful feeling. I take another slug of rum followed by a hunk of bully beef and crackers. It is surprising how such mean fare makes me feel human again. We are tempted to eat a Christmas cake Toot found in a tin under one of the bunks but we refrain just in case the occupants return.

  Toot stretches out on a camp bed. “I think we are in Officer territory here my old mate.” He declares as he takes another drink before passing me the bottle. I nervously agree but voice my concern. “Yes I bet the lads don’t have it so good, what will we do when the Officers return?”

  I take another slug of rum and hand the bottle back to him. Toot takes another swig. “Well the way I look at it Scouse is this. I’m sure what we witnessed is a big push forward. If they take their objectives I reckon the previous tenants won’t be coming back. If they fail to advance I don’t reckon many of them will be coming back anyway, in the mean time I suggest you relax and enjoy your birthday party courtesy of the Officers ha, ha.”

  Whether it is the rum or the sanctuary and comfort of the bunker, but we both fall asleep Toot in the bunk and me slumped over the table.

  I am rudely awakened by a snarling voice.

  “Who the bloody Hell are you? What do you think you are doing in this ‘ear HQ?”

  I leap to my unshod feet and stand to attention. The Tilley lamp and candles have burnt out the only illumination comes from a single hurricane lamp,

  The dim light makes it impossible to ascertain who or what rank the individual is. Toot on the other hand stands up slowly and advances towards the person squinting as he tries to recognise him.

  When he reaches the intruder Toot unexpectedly throws his arms around him and exclaims. “Harry you old sod how the Hell are you? I thought I recognised your Geordie accent but wasn’t quite sure if it’s you.”

  His friend replies in astonishment. “Bloody Hell you old skiver, how the Hell did you get here. The last I heard you had got yourself a cushy job as a driver? Sit down me old mate let’s have a drink to celebrate our reunion after God knows how many years.”

  They appear to have forgotten me. I give a discreet cough to make them aware of my presence. “Oh yes let me introduce my pal Scouse.”

  Wh
en we shake hands Harry takes a good look at me.

  “Bloody Hell they are recruiting school kids now.” He exclaims as we sit down at the table. Toot defends me. “You don’t have to worry about this lad Harry, despite his age he’s a bloody good mate. Eh! You’ll like this pal it’s only the kid’s birthday today any chance of a party?”

  Harry produces some enamel mugs and gives a toast to me then the rum bottle circulates.

  “We have been through a lot together today haven’t we Scouse?” I agree. “You’re not kidding Toot I hope we don’t have another one like it.”

  He introduces his pal. “This here villain Scouse is my old mate Harry. We goes back a long way does us.”

  “Aye lad, way back to the bloody Boer war eh Jimmy? They were good days them, nice and warm in Africa.”

  Toot drunkenly replies. “Better than this shit hole. Hey it was warm in more ways than one, ha, ha. They were good fighters the old Boer. Oh that reminds me seeing as it’s the kids birthday let’s have a slice of this.”

  He rummages under the bunk and brings out the tin opens it and lifts out the cake Toot found earlier. “Come on Jim you do the honours.”

  He hands Toot a knife, he hacks great slices and shares them out.

  “Happy birthday lad I wish we were in a better place than this to celebrate.”

  “What a feed. This is the nicest cake I have eaten in my life.”

  I thank Harry for sharing his Christmas cake. “Don’t thank me lad, thank Captain Ellis if you come across him, it’s his cake you are eating. Nice one eh Jim? Ha-ha!” I’m so pissed by this time I don’t care whose cake it is and I laugh along with them.

  This is the first time I have heard Toots real name used. We finally get around to what Harry is doing here on his own after much reminiscing and the best part of a bottle of rum he explains.

  “I’m HQ clerk and telephonic communicator. I’ve got a cushy number except for the bleedin Officers.”

  “How did you land a good job like this you conniving sod?” Toot inquires.

  “They gave it to me because of this. I can’t shoot a rifle you see.”

  He exposes his left hand with three of the fingers missing.

  “That won’t stop you handling a rifle you scheming bugger, unless you is left handed.” Toot laughs. “You crafty sod Harry I’ve got to hand it to you, how did that happen? Was it a grenade or something?”

  Harry sniggers. “Nothing so dramatic, I was digging away quite happily old Fritz dropped one pretty close to us. A silly sod of a sprog panicked and chopped the buggers off with his shovel.” He adds drunkenly. “You know what Jim? I’ve always said Sprogs and war don’t mix well together. Ha- ha!”

  “I would have thought that should have bought you a blighty ticket home?” ‘Toot retorts.

  Harry explains. “Ah I could have got out but what would I do in civvy- street I ask you? I’ve been in the Army since I was fourteen you know that anyway. This is my family it’s all I know, and what about two of these on my arm then.”

  He indicates his Corporals stripes. “I don’t do too badly.”

  He gives me more insight into Toots long Army career as he informs me.

  “I bet you didn’t know that we were boy soldiers together. We both love Army life despite the cock ups and bullshit. You wouldn’t want out would you Jim?”

  Toot retorts with conviction. “I’m off like a shot when this lot is over.” He adds proudly. “I’ve got a family to consider now consisting of a wife and three kids a budgie a cat and bloody big hungry dog. Who needs a war when I have that lot to contend with? I reckon they will be screaming out for skilled drivers when this stupid war ends.”

  I intervene. “Er I’m a bit worried, what if the Officers come back? And there is another thing.” My speech is definitely slurred and I find it difficult to concentrate and get my words out, damn the rum.

  “Aren’t we supposed to try and contact the station and warn them about the pickup point?”

  “Shit you are right Scouse, Harry me old pal can you help us?”

  Toot spells out the situation to Harry, he immediately cranks the telephone. Eventually he makes contact with the station and warns them about the situation. He is in turn informed the push forward has been successful and the front line is now realigned. When he tells them of our presence in the bunker and the loss of the ambulances plus the casualties it brings the response, ‘stand by.’ Five minutes later the telephone rings, Harry listens for a few seconds acknowledges the order and disconnects.

  “They are going to contact you with orders shortly. You are to stand by here until further notice.”

  I desperately want a mug of tea. Harry shows me where the Primus stove and kettle are located. Gratefully I commence brewing up the tea. While I sort it out Toot and Harry chat, smoke and drink as I work.

  I listen to the old sweats swapping yarns and memories of their time in the Army. Harry clarifies why the command bunker is now empty of the occupants. “Apart from the lads that advanced in the big push all the senior Officers have left the trench line and been withdrawn to the rear.”

  Toot interrupts him in a scornful manner. “That’s typical of the top brass, to bugger off when things start happening eh?”

  Harry cuts him off short as he is about to add something else.

  “Normally I would agree with you Jim, but it’s been a bit different in this outfit. They were ordered to withdraw to the rear by top command. Two weeks ago we had a Brigadier General and his aides killed around here. Silly bugger insisted on seeing what the ordinary Tommy’s has to abide in front line conditions. Eh! We even have a Member of Parliament here not so long ago.”

  Toot and I exchange looks, I inquire. “He wasn’t a nice talkative fella a Labour MP with a false leg was he?”

  “Don’t know about a false leg but he certainly used a walking stick to get about. I didn’t get to see much of him in here he insisted he messed and lodged with the lads. He wouldn’t entertain our hospitality. Silly sod, fancy wanting to live in all that shit out there. I’ve have enough of that in my life thank you, anyway he scarpered after two days, back to his life of luxury no doubt.”

  “Is that when the senior Officers began going over the top with the lads after the MP left?” I ask.

  “No indeed not, we are pretty lucky with Officers in my mob. One of the lads he spoke to said that’s why he visited us, because the Officers here are different than other mobs. See our reputation has spread as far as London, especially after we had a personal visit from the Angels.” He adds proudly. Toot snorts with disbelief and rebukes his mate.

  “Not you as well Harry, you’re not telling me you saw the bloody Angels as well as the other daft buggers, Scouse here is a believer as well?”

  Harry replies in a hurt voice. “You know Jim I used to be a pessimistic bugger like you. But I was in the big retreat from the River Mons at the beginning of this lot. I can tell you this. We were well and truly in deep shit when we met Von Klucks Army there. It was all down to another cock up by those dozy pricks in HQ made. If those Angels hadn’t come down to help us mate we would have been completely slaughtered. As it was, we lost thousands of fella’s and had to retreat about two hundred miles on foot, without any proper kit. We didn’t get any decent food for well nigh on a week. That’s the first time since I’ve been in the Army I have marched along fast asleep I can tell you.”

  I prick my ears up when I hear Harry’s mention the story of the Angels. At last I am about to hear the truth about something until now has been a myth. Toot laughs scornfully and asks him a positive question.

  “Ah! But Harry did you actually see them yourself?”

  Harry goes quite before answering “Well Jim I didn’t personally.”

  Toot tuts disdainfully. Harry adds. “Ah! But lots of my mates did see em, and I reckon I can trust their word. Anyway without some intervention from somewhere I’m sure your old mate would have been pushing up Daisies today in the fields near Mons. L
et’s get back to what we talking about anyway I know you of old Jim. You won’t believe anything unless you see it yourself. I don’t want to get into a debate about the Angels true or false, I have had enough of trying to convince none believers since it happened.

  Where was I. Oh yes I was telling you about the Officers, take today for instance, our Captain, a bloody decent fellow for an officer he led the advance in conjunction with the tanks himself.”

  Harry defines the situation for our benefit. Evidently this is the first time tanks have been used on this front. They have proved very successful leading the assault on the enemy positions in other battles. Harry’s division now occupies the German fortifications about a quarter of a mile away. Originally the trenches we now occupy were the British front line. We are now located in what is classified as the fall back reserve line. This is the third time the front has moved since the beginning of the trench stalemate. The line has been occupied and developed and lost three times by the enemy. His statement confirms Toot’s observation regarding the building of the bunker by the Germans.

  “There are replacements due to tidy up this line and man it in case of an enemy rally.” Harry finally informs us.

  Toot enquires. “So you reckon we are safe to make our way back to the ambulance. We may be able to get it back on its wheels I didn’t see much damage. I reckon the old girl will be ok.”

  Harry advises. “They haven’t given you any direct orders yet. You know the rules Jim, don’t volunteer. Why not spend the night here? Have a good kip, by then the replacements should be here. Maybe they will help you with the ambulance?”

  As it is pretty late by then, we decide to take his advice and stay the night in the comfortable bunker. So that was how I spent my seventeenth birthday, the next event to look forward to will be the Christmas celebrations. What a joke, if it is as eventful as my birthday I hope Christmas is cancelled before it happens.