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I RN.D.I Copyright© Leonard Sellers, 1998. ISSN. 1368-499X It might not always be possible to trace the copyright holders of all the material I will quote, and I would be pleased to hear fromany such persons to whom this applies. The picture on the frontcover is Commander Walter SterndaleBennett of the Drake Battalion. Please read the article on him in this issue of the R.N.D. pages 572 to 599. I would like to thank Commander R.D. SterndaleBennett for hispermission allowing me to reproduce this photograph. The R.N.D. is produced and designed at Honeysuckle House, 17a Bellhouse Road, Eastwood, Leigh-on-Sea, Essex. SS9 5NL. (Telephone 01 702 521550) Ctl'RJ�TMTI� 6'R,eeTIN6� TO flkbRe11<ve'R� Of Ttte'R.N.®. Wi�tirn front. TO TI-IE REGIMENT A CHRISTMAS MESSAGE. By Lieutenant A.P. Herbert Hawke Battalion. The winters on the Western Front resulted in terrible conditions on both officers and men. In this poem A.P. Herbert shows that even under th.e most trying of circumstances steps were taken to acknowledge that it was Christmas. So Christmas comes and finds you yet in Flanders, And all is mud and messiness and sleet, And men have temperatures and horses glanders, And Brigadiers have trouble with their feet, And life is bad forCompany-Commanders, And even Thomas' s is not so sweet. 511. Now cooks for kindle-wood would give great riches, And in the dixies the pale stew congeals, And ration-parties are not freefrom hitches, But all night circle like performing seals, Till morningbreaks and everybody pitches Into a hole some other person's meals. Now regiments huddle over last week's ashes, And pray forcoal and sedulously "rest" Where rain and wind contemn the empty sashes, And blue lips framethe faintheroic jest, Till some near howitzer goes offand smashes The only window that the town possessed. The lean mule strains, the limbers lip crevasses, And roads are black with cookers in the ditch; And men sleep warmlier who sleep in masses, And peers confess the not inglorious itch, Or get, like teeth, extracted frommorasses - Nor could their Ma's distinguish which is which. Yet somehow Christmas in your souls is stirring, And Colonels now less viciously unbraid Their Transport Officers, however erring, And sudden signals issue fromBrigade To say next Tuesday Christmas is occurring, And what arrangements have Battalions made? And then, maybe, while every one discusses On what richfoods their dear commands shall dine, And (most efficiently)the Padre fusses About the birds, the speeches, and the wine, The CorpsCommander sends a crowd of buses To whiskyou offto Christmas in the line. 512. You make no moan, nor hint at how you're faring, And here in turnwe try to hide our woe, With taxis mutinous, and Tubes so wearing, And who can tell where all the matches go ? And all our doors and windows want re­ pamng, But can we get a man to mend them? No. The dustman visits not; we can't get caster; In vain are parlour-maids and plumbers sought; And human intellect can scarely master The time when beer may lawfullybe bought, Or calculate how cash can go much faster, And if one's butcher's acting as he ought. Our old indulgences are now not cricket; Whate' er one does some Minister will cuss; In Tube and Tram young ladies punch one's ticket, With whom one can't be cross or querulous; All things are different, but still we stick it, And humbly hope we help a little thus. So, Fellow-sufferers, we give you greeting - All luck, all laughter, and an end of wars! And just to strengthen you forFritz's beating, I'm sending out a parcel fromthe Stores; They mean to stop my annual over-eating, But it will comfort me to think of yours. Lieutenant. A.P. Herbert. Note :- Published in 'The Bomber Gipsy and other poems.' By Methuen & Co Ltd in 1918. 513. DEAD-MULE TREE. A Song of Wisdom. It's a long step round by the Crucifixfor a man with a mighty load, But there's hell to pay where the dead mule lies if you go by the Bailleu! road, Where the great shells sport like an angry child with a litter a broken bricks, So we don't go downby the Dead-Mule Tree, but round by the Crucifix. But the wild young men come bubbling out and look foran early grave; They light their pipes on the parapet edge and think they're being brave; They take no heed of the golden rules that the long, long years have taught, And the -wILL go down by the Dead-Mule Tree when they know that nobodyought. And some of us old ones feelsome days that life is a tiring thing, And we show our heads in the same place twice, we stand in a trench and sing; We lark about like a kid just out and shatter a hundred rules, But we never go down by the Dead-Mule Tree, we aren't such perfect fools. And the Wargoes on and the men go down, and, be he young or old, An English man with an English gun is worth his weight in gold, And I hate to think of the fine young lads who laughed at you and me Whowouldn't go round by the Crucifixbut died at the Dead-Mule Tree. Note :- Published in the 'Bomber Gipsy and other poems.' By Methuen & Co Ltd in 1918. I would like to thank A.P. Watt Ltd on behalf of Crystal Hale and Jocelyn Herbert for permission to reproduce these poems. 514. Arthur Egerton Wattse Benbow & Collingwood Battali�ns .. Able Seaman, Leading Seaman and Sub Lieutenant. Crystal Palace, Blandford and Gallipoli. Up to 1912 I was at the Mercer School in Holborn, London, and afterpassing the Matriculation my father first of all sent me to France to learnthe language, and I came back almost translating into English. Jn France they were exceedingly nice to me and there was no talkof war. After that foralmost another period ofsix months I went to Bremen in Germany. This was in late 1913, war was in the air. Once I went to see a Captain ofone ofthe ships that used to ply between the town and London's, St Katherine's Dock. Some ofhis friends were there and towards the end ofthe evening one of these chaps said " You know ifwe went to war with England I'm not sure that England would win." I said "Aren't you? I am." That was a sort ofindication, one sensed it more than what was actually said. \Vhen sitting in Cafethey would rather look at us, because we had an English American Club where we used to meet every month and have sing songs and that sort ofthing. When one went into a cafeit was quite a thing in those days to have a little flag of your nation on the table in frontof you. And ofcourse we always asked forthe British and American flagsand could sense that they were looking at us. I got home in May 1914. At the school we had had a very fineshooting club and won many prises down at Bisley. My interest was in the Boy Scouts and we had a wonderful troop at Crouch End. All our officers were in the Artists Rifles and by the end ofthe war we foundthat out offifty five who had joined the forcesfrom our troop, no less than forty eight had received commissions. It was a very good training indeed and naturally there was a little bit of aimy element in it, owing to our officers being fromthe Artists Rifles, they did a wonderful job. I was in the transport and we had a wagon, which we built ourselves, and with it we helped people and won competitions against other scouts troops. Another patrol used to build bridges, they made the bamboo poles and the slates for the pathway. They could put a bridge across a thirty foot stream in 20 minutes. 515. When I came home fromGermany I had to learnthe familybusiness, Johnson & Watts Limited, we had been in existence since 1842, only three years afterbox making started in thiscountry. So I went down to a company run by an uncle F.J. Parsons Ltd of Hastings. (1) My brother and I had made up our minds that when we settled down in business we would join the Royal Naval Volunteer Reserve. Because, when we were younger, father bought a boat and taught us sailing down in the mouth of the Thames. We used to go down there almost every weekend. But when war broke out the RNVRwere not taking any recruits, however they said that they would let my brother know as soon as they opened forrecruiting. He was based in London, as our factorywas in the City Road. They did so on the 3rd of September and my brother joined up that day. He telephoned me and I came up and joined the nextda y. To show you how early we were his number was 67 and my number was 97. When war was declared on August the 4th we had both felt that we wanted to do our bit. Although war had been in the air I think nobody in their heartof hearts thought it would come, it was sort of wistfulthinking. But when it did come we said this is when we go to sea. Our family understood perfectly our reasons for joining up, my fatherhad served, before1900, in the Royal Navy ArtilleryVolunteers.

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