Rushden Soldier in Belgium
The Canadian Contingent - Heavy Casualties
Gunner J. Walker (Rushden), with the Canadians, writing from Belgium to his father at Rushden says:-
"We get a bit of sunshine once in a while, but we still get the rain too– like today. It is raining like the –, then maybe tomorrow the sun will shine again. I am very sorry to that dear old John Spencer got killed in action. This is an awful war, the – Canadian and – Canadian Contingents have lost in five weeks 7,000 men in action. The – Brigade, which I used to belong to, got cut up awfully, but the – Battery were mentioned in despatches last week. I am going in the gun pits tomorrow to see the boys again, but few there are left, and, believe me, there are not many who joined in Winnipeg when I did. Some of the – Canadians are over here. "

The Battle Near The Somme – Thrilling Description by Rushden Soldier
French Opinion: Worse than Verdun
Pushing the Germans Back but Costing a Lot of Men
Corpl. Allen Wounded in Night Attack – Lucky Escape from No-man’s Land
Mr and Mrs W Allen, 73 Cromwell-road, Rushden, have received the following from their son Corpl. Frank Allen, Northants Regt., who has been rather severely wounded in action in France. We take the following extracts from the letter:

“Just a few lines to let you know that I arrived in England this morning. I am in hospital at Chichester in the south of England, just the opposite to last time (when invalided home with rheumatism); I went to the north of Scotland then....

I was severely wounded in the knee on August 16th at about 3a.m. The bullet has gone right through the knee and the bone as well, and has fractured the tibia bone. I had an operation on Aug. 19th and had my knee opened. On both sides of the patella a lot of blood had to be cleared out. I am getting on as well as I can expect, but I must say my leg is very painful. It is the left leg. The M.O. thought at first I should lose it, but I thank GHod I have still got all my limbs at present. I am afraid it will be some time yet before it isa better, but still I think I am lucky to be alive after what we went through in the big Push.

“I have been in the Somme fighting and the French say it is worse than Verdun. There is some awful fighting going on all the time. They are pushing the Germans back a good bit now, but it is costing us a lot of men.

“I haven’t told you how I got wounded yet. Well, it was in a night attack. We had orders to get into a German advance trench. Our artillery did not fire at all; we were to take it by surprise. Well, we went over the top at 2.15a.m., and at 2.30a.m. we were to move up as far as possible before making the final ‘dust’. However, the enemy got to know of our movement. As soon as we started to advance he turned machine-guns on us and signalled to his artillery to shell us, and I can tell you they gave us a ‘birthday’.

“However, in spite of all this our lads went on and took cover in shell holes to let things quieten down a bit. I was in charge of two groups, five men in each, and I had to keep communications with another platoon on my left, so you see I was backwards and forwards from one party to another all the while. It was when I was trying to get my party together to go forward that I was hit, and we were only about 50 yards from the German trench then.

“I rolled into a shell hole and lay there until daybreak. Then came the task of getting back. Our men had withdrawn back to their own trench, and I was in ‘No Man’s Land’ between the lines. Anyhow I determined to get in or go under, so I crawled from shell hole to another. All the while the Bosches had their machine guns on us. There were some more wounded about besides me. Eventually I saw our lines and managed to get in without being hit again.

“Well, I think I have given you a good explanation and you can thank your lucky stars that your son Frank is still alive—but not ‘kicking’, as my leg hurts too much. This has stopped me from doing the step-dance for a bit. It goes against the grain laying in bed, but still it can’t be helped.”

Coprl. Frank Allen was one of the company of Northamptons who in the early months of the war, it will be remembered, were tricked by a party of Germans showing the white flag and then shooting down the men who came to take them prisoners. Lce-Corpl. Allen (as he was then) said in one of his letters written just after that incident that the Northants men dropped all round him.

Mr and Mrs Allen have another son, Pte. Albert Allen, Hussars, now serving in France in a quarter not far from where his brother was wounded.

Fighting for Two Days – Without Food or Drink
Rushden Man’s Luck – Twice Wounded and Once Gassed
Pte. William Cox, son of Mr. John Cox, of Ealing-terrace, Rushden, is now in the County of London War Hospital at Epsom, and sends home the following letter: "Sorry to say that I have been wounded again. It is worse this time than it was last, but sheer up, you must think yourself lucky that I am alive at all. I have got it this time in my left shoulder, and it has come out of my back; it has gone right through without touching any bones. I don’t think I shall be home for another week or two, but I hope the war will be over by the time I am better, as I don’t want to out there any more. We were fighting for two days hand-running without anything to eat or drink, so you can tell what a state I was in. Well, I think I have told you all, so cheer up, and remember me to all at home".

Mr. and Mrs. Cox are going to Epsom today to see their son. Pte. Cox, before enlisting, worked for Messrs. Sanders and Sanders.

Rushden Soldier Feel Hot – Over 107 Degrees in the Shade
Life in Mesopotamia - 'Expecting Great Things – at Any Moment'
Gunner C. Sheffield, of Rushden, with the I.E.F., send us the following interesting letter:
"Your paper, the ‘Rushden Echo’, was handed to me two days ago by a friend and brother comrade of mine, B.R. How delighted I was to read local news again of dear old Rushden. You perhaps haven’t given it a thought as to whether your paper has been read so far away. No doubt you know your paper has been greatly read in France and the Dardanelles, but out here in Mesopotamia it seems so different. This is a land which, before the war, wasn’t greatly thought of; in fact, some of us thought such a land could not exist, but here we are. I suppose we are here because our duty lies here. This battery, after doing splendid work in France since the commencement of the war, set sail last December, and I joined them at Marseilles.

"We had a grand journey across the seas, calling at Malta, Alexandria, and Port Said, and we made a safe landing on the Tigris bank about January 6, 1916. We came into action on Feb. 4th and took part in the great advance upon Kut, which end came to us like a thunderbolt. The conditions we are living under now are much improved, but the one thing we cannot stand is the terrific heat. The British soldier is suffering terribly from it. It is over 100 degrees in the shade every day, and has reached 107½. Of course, you do not know in England what such heat is, as your thermometer doe not reach that mark.

"Well, Mr. Editor, things have been a bit slow here, practically at a standstill ever since the fall of Kut, but we are expecting great things at any moment. We know the Russians are doing well up at Bagdad, and I think the issue of this campaign lies here. As concern oppositions we had practically nothing worth speaking of from the Turkish artillery. Their shells burst high in the air and wide of their mark, but they have bags of infantrymen, who want some shifting. I do hope before long to write you again and give you a more full account of the Mesopotamia campaign. (The above report has been unavoidably held over for a time.)

In the Trenches – Writing home from the front recently, the late Lieut Coales, said “The chief trouble out here is the rats, which abound in the trenches. They are rather large and cheeky. We are awfully pleased at the good news about Roumania, as it will shorten the war considerably. We have to sleep in out clothes in the trenches. When in billets for a day or two one is usually in a more or less ruined village, constantly under shell fire. In the little dugout under the parapet of a trench where I am writing the rats run about the roof. There are 1000s out here.”

Trench Mortars in France – Rushden Soldier’s Weird Experiences
Mistaken for his Brother and Loses Some of His Teeth
Billeted with Cows – A “First of April” Turn with The Horses
Struck by a Shell but Uninjured
Those of our readers who have read the dispatches of Sir Douglas Haig may have noticed how the British Field-Marshal on the western front eulogised the work of the trench mortars during the fighting which has taken place under his direction. This week Gunner Albert Upton, R.F.A., second son of Mr and Mrs Aaron Upton, of Montague-street, Rushden, gave a “Rushden Echo” representative an interesting peep into the life of the trench mortar gunners, with whom he has been working in France practically during the whole of 1916. He left France on Sunday morning last and arrived in Rushden in the evening.

Gunner Upton enlisted on October 6th 1915, and went to France with the R.F.A. on February 20th, 1916. However, he was under fire before then.

“You see,” he said to the reporter, “I was in the Zepp raid on Woolwich on Oct. 13th, 1915, and the cook-house at the barracks where I was stationed was set on fire by one of their ‘fire-balls’ (incendiary bombs).”

Continuing, he said, “We arrived at Le Harvre, on the French coast, at about 7.30pm on February 20th, and we encamped at Harfleur. We left there on February 29th and arrived at Rouen on March 1st. The nest day I joined the 21st Divisional A.C. at Bailleul and left there for the Armentieres front, arriving on March 6th.

“We went to the firing line on the same day, but things were quieter than I had expected and we soon got settled down. I remember on March 12th going to a church service. The ‘church’ was in a private house, and just after we had left the building it was blown to bits by three enemy shells, one of our chaps being wounded. That was my first narrow escape.

“Six days later we left Armentieres and arrived at C——— on March 19th, being billeted in a cow shed. This, I can assure you, was not very pleasant. We soldiers slept in a loft, and in the room below there were about 20 cows. What with the ‘bestial’ odour and the lady of the farm waking us up at 5 a.m. instead of 6 a.m., we were glad to get away from that place.

“The first night I went there I was put on guard, and my brother (Aza Upton), who was serving in this division with me, was due to go on guard the next night. Unfortunately, there were not many who knew ‘which was which of the two’, so to speak, and I was unintentionally called instead of him and put on guard again on my second night there. In connection with that difficulty of knowing ‘which is which’, I might mention another incident. When I went to be examined for the Army my teeth were passed as satisfactory, but my brother Aza was told that he must have some out. Subsequently I got a notice to have some of my teeth out and I obeyed the order, not knowing it was a mistake of the authorities, and the result was that we both had some teeth out. I had some new teeth, but I have since lost them ‘somewhere in France’ and if anyone picks them up they are welcome to them. They fitted so badly I would rather be without them.

“On April 1st I was sent to a riding school, the authorities being bent on keeping up the old tradition as far as I was concerned. I don’t know whether it was the horse or myself who was ‘being had’, but at any rate we both played the fool, and I have never liked horses since!

“I was excused riding for a time after this as I went on the sick list. I soon got over it, however, and went up to the firing line again—this time in a different district—being transferred to the trench mortars—the ‘heavy’ (with shells of about 15slbs. Weight), the ‘medium’ (shells about 60lbs. Weight), and the ‘stokes’ (shells about 13 or 14lbs weight). I was engaged on the heavy trench mortars with my brother.”

“Did you like the change?” asked our representative.

“Well”, replied Gunner Upton, I fancy I did. The work was certainly more dangerous and more exciting than before, but I was glad to get away from the horses. I didn’t fancy them, and I am sure they didn’t fancy me!

“On April 28th I went to the 4th Army Trench Mortar School near B———, for a seven-day course in my new branch of service. I went up to the line again on May 16th in the Somme district. We had to dig ourselves in just behind the first line trench (the trench mortars had to have a ‘bed’ made for them) and consequently we working for some time on almost open ground. Lukily the enemy’s fire was rather slack. Later on in the day, however, they found us out, and shelled us with their trench mortars for two hours, but we had already dug ourselves in. During this shelling I was hit in the back with a piece of shell and knocked down, but I sustained no injury. After this our position was condemned as unsafe—the enemy had succeeded in blowing it up once and looked like doing it again.

“We started taking up a new position, working day and night under heavy trench mortar fire, which, being carried on at only 300 yards range, is very dangerous. The only advantage is that you can see the shells coming, for they rise straight up in the air and drop almost straight down on their object if they are aimed true. At night time they usually have a burning fuse, which is of course a warning, but some of the shells are those which burst on concussion, these you cannot see at night time.

“On May 21st, the Lincolns were going over for a night raid on the enemy’s trenches, and I went up the first line trenches with a working party. I did not know how I should go on, but I got back safely on the morrow after dodging a few shells and snipers. On the 23rd we were at the old game—taking up a gun position—but on the following day we went back into billets for a rest. At this time we were served out with steel helmets (the infantry had already got theirs) and we began to feel a bit safer as far as our top quarters were concerned.

“On June 4th, I went in what we called a ‘Tambo’—an exploded enemy mine, and at midnight a heavy bombardment started and I began to learn what real heavy shelling was. Up to that time it was the worst bombardment I had been in, but I have been in many as bad and worse since then. On that occasion the Germans took our first line trenches twice, but were eventually driven out. It cost both sides a lot of men.

“It was on June 24th, that the terrific British bombardment on the Somme commenced. I was engaged in carrying shells up to our trench mortar (‘medium’) guns on a sort of overhead railway over the trenches. The lines were on planks over the trenches and I walked in the trench guiding the shells which were on wheels overhead. The bombardment was still on on June 29th—five days later—and I came through with nothing more than a slight bruise on the arm from a stray piece of a ‘whiz-bang’. The piece of shell went right through my sleeve and my jersey but only grazed my arm.

“On the following day I had another narrow escape. A ‘premature’ shell (so called because it burst as soon as it left the muzzle of the gun) from a 4.5 inch gun burst near me as I was bending. It blew one chap’s foot off on one side of me, as he was standing up, wounded a chap on the other side of me as he was walking away, and wounded a dozen chaps behind me, though not seriously, but, as I was bending down, I escaped injury. I came to the conclusion after this that I was bearing a charmed life and I have stuck to that conclusion ever since.

“On Saturday, July 1st, at 6 a.m. every available British gun was on the go (some having slackened a little in the few days previous) and at 7 a.m. we blew 7 mines up under the enemy’s trenches. This was the biggest mining adventure of the British known up to that time. Over went the infantry at about 7.15, and we stood on the parapet of our trenches just behind the first line watching the Somersets go over. The Englishmen went straight over three lines of German trenches, capturing the third line by 8.30, and we took up our position in the original British first line trenches. As we were in these trenches three Germans ran towards us shouting ‘Mercy, kamarade!’ but, not being particularly vain for spoil, we stopped in our trenches while some Royal Welsh Fusiliers went out to them with fixed bayonets and ransacked their pockets.

“At this time we were all dosed with rum—just enough to imbibe us with the fiery ‘spirit’. Later on in the day the firing slackened a little, and I was on guard that night in the original front line trenches.

“I was again engaged in carrying bombs on July 5th for the trench mortars, again serving the ‘mediums’. The latter tried to get dug in again after the advance, but there were too many enemy shells flying about. Six days later they made another attempt to fix a trench mortar position in M——— Wood, but they could not get into action. The day after this attempt we retired to the rear for a rest.

“On July 13th I was taken sick, probably through the terrific noise of the guns and the damp conditions and hard work, and I was taken to the 3rd Canadian Hospital at Boulogne.

“I became attached to the 4th Canadians on Sept. 3rd at D———, and on the next day went with them up to the trenches to take over the trench mortars, but we were out again after three days there. From then to Oct. 1st I was engaged in various manoeuvres behind the line. On Oct. 1st I went up to the trenches with a working party, but later was taken to a district farther north, and spent a period in which we were alternately six days in and six days out of the trenches. After Oct. 29th I was again shifted to the Somme region, and that is the region I left last week to come home.”

Local Bandsman in Egypt – Rushden Palace Musician – In Strange Surroundings
Life in the East – Royal Command Received Four Times - The Native Police and “The Poor Little Kids”
Bandsman H Rice (Rushden) of the R.W.F., formerly of the Rushden Palace Orchestra, who is now with the Expeditionary Force in Egypt, sends the following letter from Cairo to Mr Carrington, manager of the Palace, Rushden:-

No doubt you will be surprised to have a letter from me, but I thought you would like to know how I am getting on with Egypt. Well, of course you know that it is very different. In the first place, the climate is, as you know, very trying to all Englishmen, as this summer has been the hottest for many years, according to the weather clerk, and even now, in November, it is very hot in the day time, but gets very cool at night. I could not tell anyone how I have managed to bear it, but I am pleased to tell you I am felling as well as I have ever done, but have had one or two rather bad attacks owing to the heat.

I have seen a great deal of Egypt, having travelled thousands of miles with our famous band, by which we have made a great name for ourselves. We have played by Royal Command four times to the Sultan, which is a great honour to any band, and during the summer months we were engaged at a first-class music hall at Alexandria, which is about 150 miles from Cairo. Some weeks we were engaged for three days and some two, and we also had some very good turns working with us, but they were chiefly French and Arabic, but still, give me the English, as we could not understand very much. We also have done a great deal of playing here and Alexandria, and I have found a lot of friends who come from Rushden and district, and you can imagine what a treat it has been to have a good talk about the old place.

I have had the pleasure of being on the deserts, which are not very nice, owing to the terrific heat and blinding sandstorms, which play havoc with you. One desert in particular we visited was at Tel-el-Kebir, where the great battle was fought in 1882 and you can see now in the midst of the lonely desert the old trenches, and also the burial place, where one can read the stones of the brave heroes who gave their lives freely.

We have also been to the Pyramids, and spent a whole day there, visiting places and spots of great interest, and also been on the beautiful River Nile. There is one particular thing one must notice—that is the wonderful bridges over the Nile; one in particular is as long as the High-street, Rushden, and it is very wide—two lines of trams and sufficient room for four cabs to pass and two wide paths.

There are some very good places, but we find some very bad and most dirty places, and the old alleys make us feel quite bad, as walking up some of these at night we find the regular black natives, laying all about the place for their night’s rest, and we have to keep our eyes open, as we might easily find ourselves in a trap, but we are well prepared for that, as they don’t like the look of some of us. But the way the native police treat the poor little kids is wicked. They don’t take any notice of dragging them by the hair to the station, and then they punish them by whaling them on the feet, and they don’t wear such things as boots, so you may guess what they must suffer. This takes place in the lower parts, but the men get the whip a few times in the streets openly.

Some of the smells here are enough to make you go green, as the stuff they eat looks like rotten cabbages, stewed up again, mixed with onions. Then, getting into the city once more, you find some well-educated and smartly-dressed people, just the reverse, as they take no notice of paying 3s. to 5s. to see picture palaces, besides first-class variety places, and the people are by no ways behind here, for this week we have had Ada Reeves and her London Company of star artists at the Sultan’s Opera House, which is a handsome place. The decorations are beautiful, and the stage is longer than any I have ever seen. I might mention that we are supplying the music for a month. We start at 9.15 and finish at 12.15. The prices are from 5s. to £5 and are well booked.

Well, no doubt you will begin to think that our life in the Army is A1, but in addition to all engagements, we do just the same as any soldier, such as drills every day, and now we are on the machine guns and pickets, so, you see, we don’t get much time for ourselves. I am ever looking forward to the time when I can take my place again in the good old Palace at Rushden.

German Airman’s Fate – Burnt to a Cinder - Big Fight in the Air
Witnesses by a Rushden Soldier- Private F Howes Recovers from Trench fever
Pte. F Howes, 10272, -- Northants regt., son of Mr and Mrs Walter Howes, of 8, Fitzwilliam-street, Rushden, has been spending ten days’ sick furlough at home, after having been in hospital 15 weeks with trench fever contracted in France.

He enlisted on June 29th, 1915, and has been on the Western Front about four months, proceeding to France at the age of 18 years and eight months. He has twice had trench fever, his first attack being on August 13th, 1916, when he was also sent to “Blighty” for four months.

Seen by a representative of the “Rushden Echo” he said:-
“I have no thrilling experiences to tell you of, although I had plenty of excitement on the Somme. One day in the early morning we were making an attack, and my battalion was in support. Pte. Holloway, whose parents reside in Glassbrook-road, Rushden, stood at my left, when suddenly he said to me ‘I am hit’. Turning to look at him I found that he had been struck in the leg with a shrapnel splinter, but fortunately the wound was not serious, and he was able to make his own way to the dressing station. At about the same time a sergeant of the Sussex regiment came to my part of the trench with a piece of shrapnel embedded in his arm. As my position was fairly well protected and the sergt. was wounded, I moved out to let him take my place, which he did. I hadn’t left the spot three minutes before a shell dropped at that point and blew off the sergeant’s right leg from above the knee, so that I had a very narrow escape. The doctor came along to the injured N.C.O. and administered morphia and he was then removed to the dressing station.

“One evening about 5 o’clock I saw a very exciting fight in the air. That day there hadn’t been very many airmen up, but at the time I have mentioned one of our aviators and an observer were up in a Scout. They had just got over the German lines when all of a sudden no fewer than eleven Taubes rose and surrounded them. In view of the superior numbers of enemy airmen they were obliged to make a run for it; nevertheless, they put up a stiff fight for their lives, and their manoeuvres to get away were remarkable. However, the plane must have been hit in some vital spot, or the pilot struck, as the machine was driven down just at the back of our lines. We heard subsequently that one of the airmen was dead when the machine reached the ground, and the other was wounded.

“As soon as the news was received at the aerodrome, our chaps were not long in seeking to get their own back, as in a very short time eight of our machines were in the air. In the meantime the Taubes had gone back, but, seeing our challenge, they got up again, and very q1uickly a big battle was in progress. After about a quarter-of-an-hour’s fighting we saw a Taube being driven down by a British machine. The german was doing his best to keep his machine under control, but the British airman was letting him have it in the neck. When the Boche got too far down he made an attempt to turn and make off, but by that time our machine gunners had got his range and let him have it thick and fast. In a very short time we saw his machine burst into flames, and down he came with a rattle. Some of our chaps went out, but couldn’t get near enough to the burning machine to make any attempt at rescue because of the heat, so that the German airman must have been burnt to a cinder.

“The other German machines bolted, and all our machines got back safely. Our chaps went wild with excitement, sticking their ‘tin hats’ on their bayonets and yelling like mad. However, we soon shut up, as the Boches artillery started to strafe us pretty thick.

(to be continued next week)

In France—Writing to Mrs. L. Perkins, secretary of the Newton-road Roll of Honour, Pte. Jesse Partridge, now in France says:- "I am at present in the sector where the great advance has taken place and where our Brigade has been for the past five months, so you can imagine we have seen ‘some’ fighting. Inverness Copse, Sanctuary Wood, and Polyglon Wood, which you have read about so much in the papers lately, are quite familiar spots to me, and if you people at Rushden could only see these places you would marvel at the magnitude of our latest victory. Of course, it has meant many two o’clock reveilles for us, but we ‘carry on’ bravely and cheerfully, knowing that the time is not far distant when some of us will gather round the war shrines of Rushden with feelings of thankfulness to God for His goodness and kindness to us in giving us the victory over the powers of militarism and barbarity which at one time threatened the world. But, thanks be to God, those powers are waning fast, and through the gloom we can see the light of victory. My message is ‘Keep the home fires burning’, for the boys will soon be home. I feel that Rushden is the place I won’t want to leave when once I land there".

The Rushden Echo, 14th December 1917, transcribed by Kay Collins

Startling Surprise for Fritz – A Rushden Tank Driver Describes his Experiences
Germans Literally Mown Down – A Great Day for the Tank Corps.
First Landship in the Recent Advance – Huns Running as Fast as they could Pelt
Driver Fred Collins, of the Tank Corps, son of the late Mr Henry Collins, and Mrs Collins, of Crabb-street, Rushden, is home on his first leave from France, after 15 months out there. He enlisted on March 16th 1915, in his County Regiment, but volunteered to be transferred to the Tank Corps on December 21st 1916. He was then taught to drive, and has been engaged in that work ever since, passing through many thrilling experiences, both in the Battle of Messines on June 7th and at the second battle of Ypres on July 31st. More recently he has been engaged in the great battle which is now raging on the Cambrai front, having come straight home from that scene of action.

Interviewed by a representative of the “Rushden Echo”, driver Collins said:-

“On the day before the opening of the battle on the Cambrai front (viz. November 20th) the Brigadier General commanding my corps showed us a map of the Cambrai district, and told us that the morrow would be the great day that the Tank Corps had been waiting for for months, i.e. good ground to make easy going. He expressed the hope that we should all do our duty and give a good account of ourselves, and I think that subsequent events justified his faith in us.

It was about 3.45p.m. that we started up our engines and proceeded to the starting point of the attack about 200 yards behind the front line. At that time everything was very quiet, and Fritz evidently didn’t expect anything, as he was doing practically nothing except lobbing over a few trench mortars now and again, and we were able to continue making our preparations, greasing up, etc., practically undisturbed.

During the night we had about two hours’ sleep in our tank, and at 5.50a.m. the next day (i.e. ten minutes before barrage) we got the order to advance, and, cranking up, we were well on the way before our artillery opened fire. The Tank I was driving (a “male”) was the first in the line, and when we got fairly close up to Fritz we had to wait two or three minutes for our barrage to lift and then we went across Fritz’s first line. Then things got very lively. Fritz had a few machine-gun emplacements there, but these we speedily knocked out with our six-pounders and all we could see was the Huns running away as fast as they could pelt—that is, those of them who got the chance, as our machine-guns inside the Tanks literally mowed them down. I took a glance out of the back of the Tank and could see our chaps walking over as if nothing was happening. When we reached the Hindenburg line we found yards and yards of barbed wire, which the Huns were depending on, but we went through that as if it was nothing but paper strands. We then slipped in our high gears, and, leaving the Infantry, dashed right down into Marcoing (a big village which was just behind the Hindenburg line). We met with very little resistance, as our Tank absolutely surrounded the place, whilst two or three other Tanks, including the one I was driving, patrolled the streets. We saw only a few Germans running out of the houses, and we soon put “paid” to their account.

We waited there for the Infantry, as we could not get out of the Tanks as the enemy were sniping and sweeping the streets with machine guns. When the Infantry arrived there was some fun, as they started clearing out what Germans remained in the houses by bombing them. The Germans then came out of their holes like a lot of rats, hollering for mercy and running about with their hands up. They were collected in little batches and sent back as prisoners. Close by the village there was a bridge which the Germans did their best to blow up, but this we managed to save. Not my Tank, but another, got there just in time and found the fuse laid and ignited. An officer and a man left the Tank, and with the assistance of a Royal Engineer cut the fuse and saved the bridge at great risk to themselves.

This bridge was the objective, and I believe if the Cavalry had been up we should have broken through at this point, but subsequently the infantry advanced far beyond that bridge. After the village gad been cleared of the Boches we got out of the Tanks and entered the houses, and saw many interesting sights. From th look of the beds we could see that many Germans had simply jumped out of bed and bunked, leaving their clothes and equipment behind. We found canteens with barrels of beer, quarters masters’ stores, and breakfast all ready, great big German sausages and cigars galore.

For three days we lived in luxury on German rations, but we barred the sausages. We all had a change of clean underclothing from the German stores, clean shirts, and all. We were billeted in the village for a night, sleeping in a cellar, but in the early morning we got the order to stand to, as Fritz was making a counter-attack, but nothing came off as our Infantry succeeded in holding them off.

On the next day two sections of Tanks were sent into action, but I was one of the lucky ones, and got out of that, and was very glad I was as things didn’t turn out any too grand on that occasion. After two or three days’ standing-to, we were sent back again ans I was at once granted leave, and lost no time in getting across to “Blighty” and dear old Rushden.

All the time i have been out there I have had the “Rushden Echo” every week and I have been very interested to read about all my soldier and sailor friends on the different fighting fronts.

The Germans do not seem at all displeased at being taken prisoners. There are some youngsters amongst them, lads who look about 16 years of age. I cannot see an end to the war yet awhile. The Germans seem to be short of neither ammunition nor rations.”

Driver Collins has several souvenirs including a German saw bayonet—a beautiful example of Kultar.

Rushden Soldier on leave — Working Knee-deep in Water — Pte. A E Kettle’s Good Health
Pte. A E Kettle, of Bedford-road, Rushden, who joined the Army Ordnance Corps, but who subsequently volunteered for transfer with the Devons (Labour Battalion), has been home on 14 days’ leave, and has now left to join his regiment. He has seen 18 months’ service on the Western front, and this is the first leave he has had. Recently he has been on the Cambrai front, and has been in all the big pushes in his section during his period of service. Many exciting air fights have been witnessed by him, and he has seen a large number of German prisoners go through. His battalion have constantly had shells exploding near them, but so far Pte. Kettle has been very fortunate, and has not only escaped all injury, but has never had a day’s sickness while he has been at the front. Though he has never once had to report sick, and when seen by our representative he was looking well and strong. He says he is pleased to get the “Rushden Echo” every week, as it keeps him in touch with the good old town.

In the last great push, he says, he saw many Tanks in action. Several times his battalion have been shelled out of their camp. He considers that Fritz has more life in him yet than many people seem to realise. The Russian armistice has made it so much easier for the Germans, but, added Pte. Kettle, “we keep smiling and thinking of home.” For nine months he never saw a male civilian, a woman, or a child—nothing but soldiers clad in khaki.