The Project Gutenberg eBook of How I Filmed the War
Title: How I Filmed the War
Author: Geoffrey H. Malins
Editor: Low Warren
Release date: October 19, 2009 [eBook #30285]
Most recently updated: October 24, 2024
Language: English
Credits: Produced by Charlene Taylor and the Online Distributed
Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This file was
produced from images generously made available by The
Internet Archive/Canadian Libraries)
Transcriber's Note
Obvious typographical errors have been corrected in this text. For a complete list, please see the bottom of this document.
HOW I FILMED THE WAR
When I was in France I made arrangements with my friend Mr. Low Warren, at that time Editor of the Kinematograph Weekly, to arrange the manuscript I sent him for publication in book form.
The manuscript has in no way been altered in any material respect, and is in the form in which I originally wrote it.
GEOFFREY H. MALINS.
HOW I FILMED
THE WAR
A RECORD OF THE EXTRAORDINARY
EXPERIENCES OF THE MAN WHO
FILMED THE GREAT SOMME BATTLES
ETC.
BY
LIEUT. GEOFFREY H. MALINS, O.B.E.
edited by
LOW WARREN
HERBERT JENKINS LIMITED
YORK STREET, ST. JAMES'S
LONDON, S.W. 1 MCMXX
CONTENTS
| PART I | |
| CHAPTER I | |
| a few words of introduction | |
| CHAPTER II | |
| with the belgians at ramscapelle | |
| page | |
| I Reach the First Line Belgian Trenches—And become a Belgian Soldier for the Time Being—A Night Attack—An Adventure whilst Filming a Mitrailleuse Outpost—Among the Ruins of Ramscapelle—I Leave the Company and Lose my Way in the Darkness—A Welcome Light and a Long Sleep—How Little does the Public know of the Dangers and Difficulties a Film Operator has to Face | 6 |
| CHAPTER III | |
| with the goumiers at lombartzyde | |
| A Morning of Surprises—The German Positions Bombarded from the Sea—Filming the Goumiers in Action—How these Tenacious Fighters Prepare for Battle—Goumier Habits and Customs—I Take the Chief's Photograph for the First Time—And Afterwards take Food with Him—An Interesting and Fruitful Adventure Ends Satisfactorily | 15 |
| CHAPTER IV | |
| the battle of the sand-dunes | |
| A Dangerous Adventure and What Came of It—A Race Across the Sand-dunes—And a Spill in a Shell-hole—The Fate of a Spy—A Battle in the Dunes—Of which I Secured Some Fine Films—A Collision with an Obstructive Mule | 22 |
| CHAPTER V | |
| under heavy shell-fire | |
| In a Trench Coat and Cap I again Run the Gauntlet—A Near Squeak—Looking for Trouble—I Nearly Find It—A Rough Ride and a Mud Bath—An Affair of Outposts—I Get Used to Crawling—Hot Work at the Guns—I am Reported Dead—But Prove Very Much Alive—And then Receive a Shock—A Stern Chase | 30 |
| CHAPTER VI | |
| among the snows of the vosges | |
| I Start for the Vosges—Am Arrested on the Swiss Frontier—And Released—But Arrested Again—And then Allowed to Go My Way—Filming in the Firing Zone—A Wonderful French Charge Over the Snow-clad Hills—I Take Big Risks—And Get a Magnificent Picture | 40 |
| PART II | |
| CHAPTER I | |
| how i came to make official war pictures | |
| I am Appointed an Official War Office Kinematographer—And Start for the Front Line Trenches—Filming the German Guns in Action—With the Canadians—Picturesque Hut Settlement Among the Poplars—"Hyde Park Corner"—Shaving by Candlelight in Six Inches of Water—Filming in Full View of the German Lines, 75 yards away—A Big Risk, but a Realistic Picture | 51 |
| CHAPTER II | |
| christmas day at the front | |
| Leave-taking at Charing Cross—A Fruitless Search for Food on Christmas Eve—How Tommy Welcomed the Coming of the Festive Season—"Peace On Earth, Good Will To Men" to the Boom of the Big Guns—Filming the Guards' Division—And the Prince of Wales—Coming from a Christmas Service—This Year and Next | 61 |
| CHAPTER III | |
| i get into a warm corner | |
| Boxing Day—But No Pantomime—Life in the Trenches—A Sniper at Work—Sinking a Mine Shaft—The Cheery Influence of an Irish Padre—A Cemetery Behind the Lines—Pathetic Inscriptions and Mementoes on Dead Heroes' Graves—I Get Into a Pretty Warm Corner—And Have Some Difficulty in Getting Out Again—But All's Well that Ends Well | 65 |
| CHAPTER IV | |
| the battlefield of neuve chapelle | |
| A Visit to the Old German Trenches—Reveals a Scene of Horror that Defies Description—Dodging the Shells—I Lose the Handle of My Camera—And then Lose My Man—The Effect of Shell-fire on a Novice—In the Village of Neuve Chapelle—A Scene of Devastation—The Figure of the Lonely Christ | 72 |
| CHAPTER V | |
| filming the prince of wales | |
| How I Made a "Hide-up"—And Secured a Fine Picture of the Prince Inspecting some Gun-pits—His Anxiety to Avoid the Camera—And His Subsequent Remarks—How a German Block-house was Blown to Smithereens—And the Way I Managed to Film it Under Fire | 76 |
| CHAPTER VI | |
| my first visit to ypres and arras | |
| Greeted on Arrival in the Ruined City of Ypres by a Furious Fusillade—I Film the Cloth Hall and Cathedral, and Have a Narrow Escape—A Once Beautiful Town Now Little More Than a Heap of Ruins—Arras a City of the Dead—Its Cathedral Destroyed—But Cross and Crucifixes Unharmed | 80 |
| CHAPTER VII | |
| the battle of st. eloi | |
| Filming Within Forty-five Yards of the German Trenches—Watching for "Minnies"—Officers' Quarters—"Something" Begins to Happen—An Early Morning Bombardment—Develops Into the Battle of St. Eloi—Which I Film from Our First-Line Trench—And Obtain a Fine Picture | 85 |
| CHAPTER VIII | |
| a night attack—and a narrow escape | |
| A Very Lively Experience—Choosing a Position for the Camera Under Fire—I Get a Taste of Gas—Witness a Night Attack by the Germans—Surprise an Officer by My Appearance in the Trenches—And Have One of the Narrowest Escapes—But Fortunately Get Out with Nothing Worse than a Couple of Bullets Through My Cap | 93 |
| CHAPTER IX | |
| fourteen thousand feet above the german lines | |
| The First Kinematograph Film Taken of the Western Front—And How I Took It Whilst Travelling Through the Air at Eighty Miles an Hour—Under Shell-fire—Over Ypres—A Thrilling Experience—And a Narrow Escape—A Five Thousand Foot Dive Through Space | 107 |
| CHAPTER X | |
| filming the earth from the clouds | |
| Chasing an "Enemy" Aeroplane at a Height of 13,500 Feet—And What Came of It—A Dramatic Adventure in which the Pilot Played a Big Part—I Get a Nasty Shock—But am Reassured—A Freezing Experience—Filming the Earth as we Dived Almost Perpendicularly—A Picture that would Defy the Most Ardent Futurist to Paint | 116 |
| CHAPTER XI | |
| preparing for the "big push" | |
| The Threshold of Tremendous Happenings—General ——'s Speech to His Men on the Eve of Battle—Choosing My Position for Filming the "Big Push"—Under Shell-fire—A Race of Shrieking Devils—Fritz's Way of "Making Love"—I Visit the "White City"—And On the Way have Another Experience of Gas Shells | 121 |
| CHAPTER XII | |
| filming under fire | |
| The General's Speech to the Fusiliers Before Going Into Action—Filming the 15-inch Howitzers—A Miniature Earthquake—"The Day" is Postponed—Keeping Within "The Limits"—A Surprise Meeting in the Trenches—A Reminder of Other Days—I Get Into a Tight Corner—And Have An Unpleasantly Hot Experience—I Interview a Trench Mortar—Have a Lively Quarter of an Hour—And Then Get Off | 135 |
| CHAPTER XIII | |
| the dawn of july first | |
| A Firework Display Heralds the Arrival of "The Day"—How the Boys Spent Their Last Few Hours in the Trenches—Rats as Bedfellows—I Make an Early Start—And Get Through a Mine-shaft into "No Man's Land"—The Great Event Draws Near—Anxious Moments—The Men Fix Bayonets—And Wait the Word of Command to "Go Over the Top" | 151 |
| CHAPTER XIV | |
| the day and the hour | |
| A Mighty Convulsion Signalises the Commencement of Operations—Then Our Boys "Go Over the Top"—A Fine Film Obtained whilst Shells Rained Around Me—My Apparatus is Struck—But, Thank Goodness, the Camera is Safe—Arrival of the Wounded—"Am I in the Picture?" they ask | 162 |
| CHAPTER XV | |
| roll-call after the fight | |
| A Glorious Band of Wounded Heroes Stagger Into Line and Answer the Call—I Visit a Stricken Friend in a Dug-out—On the Way to La Boisselle I Get Lost in the Trenches—And Whilst Filming Unexpectedly Come Upon the German Line—I Have a Narrow Squeak of Being Crumped—But Get Away Safely—And later Commandeer a Couple of German Prisoners to Act as Porters | 169 |
| CHAPTER XVI | |
| editing a battle film | |
| The Process Described in Detail—Developing the Negative—Its Projection on the Screen—Cutting—Titling—Joining—Printing the Positive—Building Up the Story—It is Submitted to the Military Censors at General Headquarters—And After Being Cut and Approved by Them—Is Ready for Public Exhibition | 178 |
| CHAPTER XVII | |
| the horrors of trones wood | |
| Three Times I Try and Fail to Reach this Stronghold of the Dead—Which Has Been Described as "Hell on Earth"—At a Dressing Station under Fire—Smoking Two Cigarettes at a Time to Keep off the Flies—Some Amusing Trench Conversations by Men who had Lost Their Way—I Turn in for the Night—And Have a Dead Bosche for Company | 183 |
| CHAPTER XVIII | |
| filming at pozières and contalmaison | |
| Looking for "Thrills"—And How I Got Them—I Pass Through "Sausage Valley," on the Way to Pozières—You May and you Might—What a Tommy Found in a German Dug-out—How Fritz Got "Some of His Own" Back—Taking Pictures in What Was Once Pozières—"Proofs Ready To-morrow" | 196 |
| CHAPTER XIX | |
| along the western front with the king | |
| His Majesty's Arrival at Boulogne—At G.H.Q.—General Burstall's Appreciation—The King on the Battlefield of Fricourt—Within Range of the Enemy's Guns—His Majesty's Joke Outside a German Dug-out—His Memento from a Hero's Grave—His Visit to a Casualty Clearing Station—The King and the Puppy—Once in Disgrace—Now a Hospital Mascot | 205 |
| CHAPTER XX | |
| king and president meet | |
| An Historic Gathering—In which King and President, Joffre and Haig Take Part—His Majesty and the Little French Girl—I Am Permitted to Film the King and His Distinguished Guests—A Visit to the King of the Belgians—A Cross-Channel Journey—And Home | 214 |
| CHAPTER XXI | |
| the hush! hush!—a weird and fearful creature | |
| Something in the Wind—An Urgent Message to Report at Headquarters—And What Came Of It—I Hear for the First Time of the "Hush! Hush!"—And Try to Discover What It Is—A Wonderful Night Scene—Dawn Breaks and Reveals a Marvellous Monster—What Is It? | 222 |
| CHAPTER XXII | |
| the juggernaut car of battle | |
| A Weird-looking Object Makes Its First Appearance Upon the Battlefield—And Surprises Us Almost as Much as It Surprised Fritz—A Death-dealing Monster that Did the Most Marvellous Things—And Left the Ground Strewn with Corpses—Realism of the Tank Pictures | 230 |
| CHAPTER XXIII | |
| where the village of guillemont was | |
| An Awful Specimen of War Devastation—Preparing for an Advance—Giving the Bosche "Jumps"—Breakfast Under Fire—My Camera Fails Me Just Before the Opening of the Attack—But I Manage to Set it Right and Get Some Fine Pictures—Our Guns "Talk!" Like the Crack of a Thousand Thunders—A Wonderful Doctor | 234 |
| CHAPTER XXIV | |
| fighting in a sea of mud | |
| Inspecting a Tank that was Hors de Combat—All that was Left of Mouquet Farm—A German Underground Fortress—A Trip in the Bowels of the Earth—A Weird and Wonderful Experience | 245 |
| CHAPTER XXV | |
| the eve of great events | |
| A Choppy Cross-Channel Trip—I Indulge in a Reverie—And Try to Peer Into the Future—At Headquarters Again—Trying to Cross the River Somme on an Improvised Raft—In Peronne After the German Evacuation—A Specimen of Hunnish "Kultur" | 250 |
| CHAPTER XXVI | |
| an uncanny adventure | |
| Exploring the Unknown—A Silence That Could be Felt—In the Village of Villers-Carbonel—A Cat and Its Kittens in an Odd Retreat—Brooks' Penchant for "Souvenirs"—The First Troops to Cross the Somme | 259 |
| CHAPTER XXVII | |
| the germans in retreat | |
| The Enemy Destroy Everything as They Go—Clearing Away the Débris of the Battlefield—And Repairing the Damage Done by the Huns—An Enormous Mine Crater—A Reception by French Peasants—"Les Anglais! Les Anglais!"—Stuck on the Road to Bovincourt | 266 |
| CHAPTER XXVIII | |
| the story of an "armoured car" about which i could a tale unfold | |
| Possibilities—Food for Famished Villagers—Meeting the Mayoress of Bovincourt—Who Presides at a Wonderful Impromptu Ceremony—A Scrap Outside Vraignes—A Church Full of Refugees—A True Pal—A Meal with the Mayor of Bierne | 275 |
| CHAPTER XXIX | |
| before st. quentin | |
| The "Hindenburg" Line—A Diabolical Piece of Vandalism—Brigadier H.Q. in a Cellar—A Fight in Mid-air—Waiting for the Taking of St. Quentin—L'Envoi | 292 |
ILLUSTRATIONS
| Filming the Preliminary Bombardment of the "Big Push," July 1st, 1916 | Frontispiece |
| to face page | |
| With a Group of Belgian Officers at Furnes, Belgium, 1914 | 12 |
| On Skis in the Vosges Mountains just before the French Attack, February and March, 1915 | 12 |
| Using my Aeroscope in Belgium, 1914-15 | 22 |
| How I Carried my Film in the Early Days of the War In Belgium and the Vosges Mountains | 40 |
| The State of the Trenches in which we Lived and Slept (?) for Weeks on End during the First and Second Winter of War | 52 |
| Our Dug-outs in the Front Line at Picantin in which we Lived, Fought, and many Died during 1914-15, Before The Days of Tin Hats | 52 |
| Choosing a Position for my Camera in the Front Line Trench at Picantin. With the Guards. Winter, 1915-16 | 56 |
| The Prince of Wales trying to Locate My "Camouflaged Camera" | 62 |
| The Prince of Wales leaving a Temporary Church at La Gorgue, Xmas Day, 1915 | 62 |
| On the Way to the "Menin Gate" with an Artillery Officer to Film Our Guns in Action | 76 |
| Taking Scenes in Devastated Ypres, May, 1916 | 80 |
| In Ypres, with "baby" Brooks, the Official still Photographer, May, 1916 | 84 |
| With my Aeroscope Camera after Filming the Battle of St. Eloi | 90 |
| In the Main Street of Contalmaison the Day of its Capture | 96 |
| Launching a Smoke Barrage at the Battle of St. Eloi | 96 |
| In the Trenches at the Famous and Deadly "Hohenzollern Redoubt," after a German Attack | 109 |
| In a Shell-Hole in "No Man's Land" Filming our Heavy Bombardment of the German Lines | 122 |
| Geoffrey H. Malins, O.B.E., Official Kinematographer to the War Office | 132 |
| Bombarding the German Trenches at the Opening Battle of the Great Somme Fight, July 1st, 1916 | 138 |
| My Official Pass to the Front Line to Film the Battle of the Somme, July 1st, 1916 | 138 |
| The Plan of Attack at Beaumont Hamel, July 1st, 1916 | 146 |
| Over the Top of Beaumont Hamel, July 1st, 1916 | 146 |
| In the Sunken Road at Beaumont Hamel, just before Zero Hour, July 1st, 1916 | 154 |
| In a Trench Mortar Tunnel, during the Battle of the Somme, at Beaumont Hamel, July 1st, 1916 | 154 |
| The Opening of the Great Battle of the Somme, July 1st, 1916 | 162 |
| The Roll Call of the Seaforths at "White City," Beaumont Hamel, July 1st, 1916 | 168 |
| Fagged Out in the "White City" After We Retired To Our Trenches, July 1st, 1916 | 168 |
| The Germans make a Big Counter Attack at La Boisselle and Ovillers, July 3rd and 4th, 1916 | 176 |
| Men of Scotland Rushing a Mine Crater at the Deadly "Hohenzollern Redoubt" | 176 |
| Filming the King during his Visit to France in 1916. He is Accompanied by President Poincaré, Sir Douglas Haig, General Joffre and General Foch | 184 |
| His Majesty the King, with President Poincaré, in France, 1916 | 206 |
| Her Majesty, the Queen of the Belgians, taking a Snap Of me at Work while Filming the King | 218 |
| The Prince of Wales Speaking with Belgian Officers at La Panne, Belgium | 218 |
| The First "Tank" that went into Action, H.M.L.S. "Daphne." September 15th, 1916 | 222 |
| The Battlefield of "Ginchy" | 224 |
| Reserves Watching the Attack at Martinpuich, September 15th, 1916 | 224 |
| Over the Top at Martinpuich, Sept. 15th, 1916 | 228 |
| Two Minutes to Zero Hour at Martinpuich, Sept. 15th, 1916 | 228 |
| The Highland Brigade Going Over the Top at Martinpuich, September 15th, 1916 | 234 |
| Lord Kitchener's Last Visit To France | 256 |
| Filming Our Guns in Action during the Great German Retreat to St. Quentin, March, 1917 | 268 |
| The Quarry from which I Crawled to Film the German Trenches in Front of St. Quentin, 1917 | 290 |
| Our Outpost Line within 800 Yards of St. Quentin | 302 |
PART I
HOW I FILMED THE WAR
CHAPTER I
a few words of introduction
Fate has not been unkind to me. I have had my chances, particularly during the last two or three years, and—well, I have done my best to make the most of what has come my way. That and nothing more.
How I came to be entrusted with the important commission of acting as Official War Office Kinematographer is an interesting story, and the first few chapters of this book recount the sequence of events that led up to my being given the appointment.
Let me begin by saying that I am not a writer, I am just a "movie man," as they called me out there. My mind is stored full to overflowing with the impressions of all I have seen and heard; recollections of adventures crowd upon me thick and fast. Thoughts flash through my mind, and almost tumble over one another as I strive to record them. Yet at times, when I take pen in hand to write them down, they seem to elude me for the moment, and make the task more difficult than I had anticipated.
In the following chapters I have merely aimed at setting down, in simple language, a record of my impressions, so far as I can recall them, of what I have seen of many and varied phases of the Great Drama which has now been played to a finish on the other side of the English Channel. Most of those recollections were penned at odd moments, soon after the events chronicled, when they were still fresh in mind, often within range of the guns.
It was my good fortune for two years to be one of the Official War Office Kinematographers. I was privileged to move about on the Western Front with considerable freedom. My actions were largely untrammelled; I had my instructions to carry out; my superiors to satisfy; my work to do; and I endeavoured to do all that has been required of me to the best of my ability, never thinking of the cost, or consequences, to myself of an adventure so long as I secured a pictorial record of the deeds of our heroic Army in France. I have striven to make my pictures worthy of being preserved as a permanent memorial of the greatest Drama in history.
That is the keynote of this record. As an Official Kinematographer I have striven to be, and I have tried all the time to realise that I was the eyes of the millions of my fellow-countrymen at home. In my pictures I have endeavoured to catch something of the glamour, as well as the awful horror of it all. I have caught a picture here, a picture there; a scene in this place, a scene in that; and all the time at the back of my mind has always been the thought: "That will give them some idea of things as they are out here." My pictures have never been taken with the idea of merely making pictures, nor with the sole idea, as some people think, of merely providing a "thrill." I regarded my task in a different light to that. To me has been entrusted the task of securing for the enlightenment and education of the people of to-day, and of future generations, such a picture as will stir their imaginations and thrill their hearts with pride.
This by way of introduction. Now to proceed with my task, the telling of the adventures of a kinematograph camera man in war-time.
From my early days I was always interested in photography, and boyish experiments eventually led me along the path to my life's vocation. In time I took up the study of kinematography, and joined the staff of the Clarendon Film Company (of London and Croydon), one of the pioneer firms in the industry. There I learned much and made such progress that in time I was entrusted with the filming of great productions, which cost thousands of pounds to make. From there I went to the Gaumont Company, and I was in the service of this great Anglo-French film organisation when war broke out.
During the early days of the autumn of 1914 I was busily occupied in filming various scenes in connection with the war in different parts of the country. One day when I was at the London office of the Company I was sent for by the Chief.
"We want a man to go out to Belgium and get some good 'stuff.' [Stuff, let me say, is the technical or slang term for film pictures.] How would you like to go?"
"Go?" I asked. "I'm ready. When? Now?"
"As soon as you like."
"Right, I'm ready," I said, without a moment's hesitation, little thinking of the nature of the adventure upon which I was so eager to embark.
And so it came about. Provided with the necessary cash, and an Aeroscope camera, I started off next day, and the following chapters record a few of my adventures in search of pictorial material for the screen.
CHAPTER II
with the belgians at ramscapelle
I Reach the First Line Belgian Trenches—And become a Belgian Soldier for the Time Being—A Night Attack—An Adventure whilst Filming a Mitrailleuse Outpost—Among the Ruins of Ramscapelle—I Leave the Company and Lose my Way in the Darkness—A Welcome Light and a Long Sleep—How Little does the Public know of the Dangers and Difficulties a Film Operator has to Face.
Leaving London, I crossed to France. I arranged, as far as possible, to get through from Calais to Furnes, and with the greatest of good luck I managed it, arriving at my destination at eleven o'clock at night. As usual, it was raining hard.
Starting out next day for the front line, I reached the district where a battalion was resting—I was allowed in their quarters. Addressing one of the men, I asked if he could speak English. "Non, monsieur," and making a sign to me to remain he hurried off. Back came the fellow with an officer.
"What do you want, monsieur?" said he in fine English.
"You speak English well," I replied.
"Yes, monsieur, I was in England for four years previous to the war." So I explained my position. "I want to accompany you to the trenches to take some kinema films."
After exchanging a few words he took me to his superior officer, who extended every courtesy to me. I explained to him what I was desirous of doing. "But it is extraordinary, monsieur, that you should take such risks for pictures. You may in all probability get shot."
"Possibly, sir," I replied, "but to obtain genuine scenes one must be absolutely in the front line."
"Ah, you English," he said, "you are extraordinaire." Suddenly taking me by the arm, he led me to an outhouse. At the door we met his Captain. Introducing me, he began to explain my wishes. By the looks and the smiles, I knew things were going well for me.
Calling the interpreter, the Captain said, "If you accompany my men to the trenches you may get killed. You must take all risks. I cannot be held responsible, remember!" And with a smile, he turned and entered the house.
Hardly realising my good fortune, I nearly hugged my new friend, the Lieutenant.
"Monsieur," I said, saluting, "I am un Belge soldat pro tem."
Laughingly he told me to get my kit ready, and from a soldier who could speak English I borrowed a water-bottle and two blankets. Going round to the back of the farm, I came upon the rest of the men being served out with coffee from a copper. Awaiting my turn, I had my water-bottle filled; then the bread rations were served out with tinned herrings. Obtaining my allowance, I stowed it away in my knapsack, rolled up my blanket and fixed it on my back, and was ready. Then the "Fall in" was sounded. What a happy-go-lucky lot! No one would have thought these men were going into battle, and that many of them would probably not return. This, unfortunately, turned out to be only too true.
In my interest in the scene and anxiety to film it, I was forgetting to put my own house in order. "What if I don't come back?" I suddenly thought. Begging some paper, I wrote a letter, addressed to my firm, telling them where I had gone, and where to call at Furnes for my films in the event of my being shot. Addressing it, I left it in charge of an officer, to be posted if I did not return, and requested that if anything happened to me my stuff should be left at my café in Furnes. Shaking me by the hand, he said he sincerely hoped it would not be necessary. Laughingly I bade him adieu. Falling in with the other men we started off, with the cheers and good wishes of those left behind ringing in our ears.
It was still raining, and, as we crossed the fields of mud, I began to feel the weight of my equipment pressing on my shoulders, which with my camera and spare films made my progress very slow. Many a time during that march the men offered to help me, but, knowing that they had quite enough to do in carrying their own load, I stubbornly refused.
On we went, the roar of the guns getting nearer: over field after field, fully eighteen inches deep in mud, and keeping as close to hedges as possible, to escape detection from hostile aeroplanes. Near a bridge we were stopped by an officer.
"What's the matter?" I asked of my interpreter. Not knowing, he went to enquire.
An order was shouted. The whole regiment rushed for cover to a hedge which ran by the roadside. I naturally followed. My friend told me that the Germans had sent up an observation balloon, so we dare not advance until nightfall, or they would be sure to see us and begin shelling our column before we arrived at the trenches. In the rain we sat huddled close together. Notwithstanding the uncomfortable conditions, I was very thankful for the rest. Night came, and we got the word to start again. Progress was becoming more difficult than ever, and I only kept myself from many a time falling headlong by clinging on to my nearest companion; he did likewise.
Ye gods! what a night, and what a sight! Raining hard, a strong wind blowing, and the thick, black, inky darkness every now and then illuminated by the flash of the guns. Death was certainly in evidence to-night. One felt it. The creative genius of the weirdest, imaginative artist could not have painted a scene of death so truthfully. The odour arising from decaying bodies in the ground was at times almost overwhelming.
We had been conversing generally during the march, but now word was passed that we were not to speak under any circumstances, not until we were in the trenches. A whispered order came that every man must hold on to the comrade in front of him, and bear to the left. Reaching the trench allotted to us, we went along it in single file, up to our knees in water. Sometimes a plank had been thrown along it, or bricks, but generally there was nothing but mud to plough through.
"Halt!" came the command to the section I was with. "This is our shelter, monsieur," said a voice.
Gropingly, I followed the speaker on hands and knees. The shelter was about 12 feet long, 3 feet 6 inches high, the same in width, and made of old boards. On the top, outside, was about 9 inches of earth, to render it as far as possible shrapnel-proof. On the floor were some boards, placed on bricks and covered with soddened straw. There was just enough room for four of us.
Rolling ourselves in our blankets we lay down, and by the light of an electric torch we ravenously ate our bread and herrings. I enjoyed that simple meal as much as the finest dinner I have ever had placed before me. Whilst eating, a messenger came and warned us to be prepared for an attack. Heavy rifle-fire was taking place, both on the right and left of our position.
"Well," thought I, "this is a good start; they might have waited for daylight, I could then film their proceedings." At any rate, if the attack came, I hoped it would last through the next day.
Switching off the light, we lay down and awaited events. But not for long. The order came to man the trench. Out we tumbled, and took up our positions. Suddenly out of the blackness, in the direction of the German positions, came the rattle of rifle-fire, and the bullets began to whistle overhead. Keeping as low as possible, we replied, firing in quick succession at the flashes of the enemy rifles. This continued throughout the night.
Towards morning a fog settled down, which blocked out our view of each other, and there was a lull in the fighting. At midday the attack started again. Taking my apparatus, I filmed a section of Belgians in action. Several times bullets whistled unpleasantly near my head. Passing along the trench, I filmed a mitrailleuse battery in action, which was literally mowing down the Germans as fast as they appeared. Then I filmed another section of men, while the bullets were flying all around them. Several could not resist looking round and laughing at the camera.
Whilst thus engaged, several shells fell within thirty feet of me. Two failed to explode; another exploded and sent a lump of mud full in my face. With great spluttering, and I must admit a little swearing, I quickly cleaned it off. Then I filmed a large shell-hole filled with water, caused by the explosion of a German "Jack Johnson."
The diameter was 28 feet across, and, roughly, 6 feet deep in the centre. At the other end of the line I filmed a company damming the Canal, to turn it into the German trenches.
Then I cautiously made my way back, and filmed a section being served with hot coffee while under fire. Coming upon some men warming themselves round a bucket-stove, I joined the circle for a little warmth. How comforting it was in that veritable morass. Even as we chatted we were subjected to a heavy shrapnel attack, and the way we all scuttled to the trench huts was a sight for the gods. It was one mad scramble of laughing soldiers. Plunk—plunk—plunk—came the shells, not 20-25 feet from where we were sitting by the fire. Six shells fell in our position, one failed to explode. I had a bet with a Belgian officer that it was 30 feet from us. He bet me it was 40 feet. Not to be done, I roughly measured off a yard stick, and left the shelter of the trench to measure the distance. It turned out to be 28 feet. Just as I had finished, I heard three more shells come shrieking towards me. I simply dived for the trench, and luckily reached it just in time.
Towards evening our artillery shelled a farm-house about three-quarters of a mile distant, where the Germans had three guns hidden, and through the glasses I watched the shells drop into the building and literally blow it to pieces. Unfortunately, it was too far off to film it satisfactorily.
That night was practically a repetition of the previous one. The trench was attacked the greater part of the time, and bullets continually spattered against the small iron plate.
Next morning I decided to try and film the mitrailleuse outpost on a little spot of land in the floods, only connected by a narrow strip of grass-land just high enough to be out of reach of the water. Still keeping low under cover of the trenches, I made my way in that direction. Several officers tried to persuade me not to go, but knowing it would make an excellent scene, I decided to risk it. On the side of the bank nearest our front line the ground sloped at a more abrupt angle, the distance from the trench to the outpost being about sixty yards. Rushing over the top of the parapet, I got to the edge of the grass road and crouched down. The water up to my knees, I made my way carefully along. Twice I stumbled over dead bodies. At last I reached the outpost safely, but during the last few yards I must have raised myself a little too high, for the next minute several bullets splashed into the water where I had been.
The outpost was very surprised when I made my appearance, and expressed astonishment that I had not been shot. "A miss is as good as a mile," I laughingly replied, and then I told them I had come to film them at work. This I proceeded to do, and got an excellent scene of the mitrailleuse in action, and the other section loading up. The frightful slaughter done by these guns is indescribable. Nothing can possibly live under the concentrated fire of these weapons, as the Germans found to their cost that day.
After getting my scenes, I thanked the officer, and was about to make my way back; but he forbade me to risk it, telling me to wait until night and return under cover of the darkness. To this I agreed, and that night left the outpost with the others when the relief party came up.
Shortly after news was received that we were to be relieved from duty in the trenches for the next forty-eight hours; the relief column was on its way to take our places. I was delighted, for I had been wet through during the days and nights I had been there, but was fully satisfied that I had got some real live films. Hastily packing up my equipment, I stood waiting the signal to move off. At last the relief came up. Holding each other's hands, we carefully made our way in Indian file along the trench, on to the road, and into Ramscapelle.