e had only been in England a short
time when they started giving instruction in special courses, such as
bombing, signalling, and machine gun work. Any one who took one of
these courses was exempt from all fatigue duty, and they did not report
so early in the morning. Steve and I joined the bombers, known in
France as the "Suicide Club," and Bob, with two or three others, took
up the machine gun work. I found the bomb throwing very interesting,
and in our six weeks' course we learned to handle the "Mills" bomb,
"hair-brush," and the "jam tin." There was just enough danger in it to
make it exciting and there was some sport as well. For instance, the
"jam tin" bomb is a real jam tin packed with explosive, and we had to
make as well as throw them, and for practice we were allowed to bomb
the trenches dug by our battalion. They would spend two or three weeks
digging and fixing up a nice trench and then along would come the
bombers and blow it all to smithereens--no wonder the boys were sore at
us; but then, they were getting practice, and we were only doing what
"Fritzie" would do for them later on. Steve and I stuck with the
bombers, but one morning as I watched our battalion line up I was
surprised to see Bob and his pals in the ranks. When we met that night
I asked him why he had given up the machine gun work, and I sure did
laugh at what he told me. He said: "Aw, I liked the work well enough,
and it was fun to see how mad our Sergeant got when he came after us
for picket or guard duties; we thought we had a snap sitting down
listening to the machine gun officer's lectures, but what do you think
he told us yesterday? Why, that in the event of a retirement machine
guns were left behind to cover the retreat, and were sacrificed to save
the main body of the Army! Now, wouldn't that be a devil of a fix to
be in? No sacrifice stuff for mine--I don't mind taking my chance with
the other boys, but I won't stay out there alone." Poor old Bob, we
all roasted him about it, but he never went back. Shortly before
leaving England almost the entire 10th platoon got leave, and we all
went up to London, and I assure you the time we had wasn't slow. Bob
and a few of the others whose homes were in London spent part of the
time there, but we had a whole week and we spent the last few days
together. Among other places of interest, we visited Madame Tussaud's
Waxworks, and it was here that Scottie slipped one over Bink. We wer