At length my companion broke the silence.

"As Bosche seems to be going easy, and our artillery has shut up shop, let's lie down," and with that he threw himself on the bed. I sat on the box, which served as a table, smoking.

Half an hour went by. Things were livening up a bit. We began to hum a tune or two from the latest revue. Suddenly we were brought to our feet by a crashing sound that was absolutely indescribable in its intensity.

I rushed up the incline into the trench. What a sight! The whole of our front for the distance of a mile was one frightful inferno of fire. The concentration of artillery fire was terrific! Scores of star-sh.e.l.ls shot into the air at the same moment, lighting the ground up like day, showing up the smoking, blazing ma.s.s more vividly than ever. Hundreds of sh.e.l.ls, large and small, were bursting over our trenches simultaneously; our guns were replying on the German front with redoubled fury; the air was alive with whirling ma.s.ses of metal. The noise was indescribable.

The explosions seemed to petrify one.

I made my way as near the front line as possible. A number of Scots rushed by me with a load of hand grenades. The trenches were packed with men rushing up to the fight. I asked an officer who raced by, breathlessly, if Bosche was getting through.

"Yes," he yelled; "they are trying to get through in part of my section.

They have smashed our communication trenches so much that I have got to take my men round on the right flank. It's h.e.l.l there!"

It was impossible to get through. The place was choked with men, many of them badly wounded; some of them, I'm afraid, destined as tenants of the little cemetery near by.

The awful nightmare continued. Men were coming and going. Reserves were being rushed forward; more bombs were being sent up. The Bosche artillery quietened down a bit, but only, as I found out immediately afterwards, to allow their bombers to attack. I could see the flash of hundreds of bombs, each one possibly tearing the life out of some of our brave boys. Nothing in the world could have withstood such a concentrated artillery fire as the Germans put upon that five hundred yards of ground. It was torn and torn again, riven to shreds. It was like the vomiting of a volcano, a ma.s.s of earth soddened with the blood of the heroes who had tried to hold it.

The Germans came on, bombing their way across to what was left of our trench. They dug themselves in. Then with a whirl and a crash, our guns spoke again. Our boys, who had been waiting like dogs on a leash, sprang to the attack. Briton met Bosche. The battle swayed first this way then that. Our men drove the Germans out twice during the night, and held on to a section commanding the flank of the original position. Towards four o'clock the fighting ceased. Daylight was breaking. The wounded were still being pa.s.sed to the rear.

I stopped and spoke to an officer. "How have you got on?" I asked.

"We occupy the left flank trench, and command the position. But, what a fight; it was worse than Loos." Then suddenly, "What are _you_ doing here?"

"I am taking kinema pictures!" I said.

The look of amazement on his face was eloquent of his thoughts.

"Doing _what_?" he asked.

"I am taking kinema pictures," I repeated.

"Well I'm d.a.m.ned," were his exact words. "I never thought you fellows existed. I've always thought war pictures were fakes, but--well--now I know different," and giving me a hearty shake of the hand he went on his way.

Time was now drawing near for my work to begin. Taking the camera to the selected point in the front line, which, luckily, was just on the left of the fighting area, I took my bearings by the aid of a compa.s.s.

Fixing up a tripod in such close quarters was very difficult. I stretched an empty sandbag on a piece of wire, cut a hole in it and hung it on the front of the camera in such a position that the lens projected through the hole. The sandbag stretched far enough on either side to shelter my hands, especially the right one, which operated the machine.

I was now ready. I had to risk the attentions of the snipers; it was unavoidable. Little by little I raised the camera. It was now high enough up, and ramming some sand against the tripod legs, I waited.

Had the Bosche seen it?

Three more minutes, then the mine. One minute went by; no shots! Another minute went by. A bullet flew over my head. Immediately afterwards another buried itself in the parapet, then another. Surely they would hit it! Heavens how that last minute dragged! To be absolutely sure of getting the mine from the very beginning, I decided to start exposing a minute before time. It had to be done; reaching up, I started to expose.

Another and another bullet flew by.

Then the thing happened which I had been dreading. The Bosche opened a machine-gun on me.

At that moment there was a violent convulsion of the ground, and with a tremendous explosion the mine went up. It seemed as if the whole earth in front of us had been lifted bodily hundreds of feet in the air.

Showers of bombs exploded, showing that it had been well under the German position. Then with a mighty roar the earth and debris fell back upon itself, forming a crater about 150 feet across. Would our men rush the crater and occupy it? On that chance, I kept turning the handle.

The smoke subsided; nothing else happened.

The show was over. No, not quite; for as I hurriedly took down the camera, I evidently put my head up a little too high. There was a crack, and a shriek near my head, and my service cap was whisked off. The whole thing happened like a flash of lightning. I dropped into the bottom of the trench and picked up my cap. There, through the soft part of it, just above the peak, were two holes where a bullet had pa.s.sed through.

One inch nearer and it would have been through my head.

Can you realise what my thoughts were at that precise moment?

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 Sh.e.l.l-fire--Over Ypres--A Thrilling Experience--And a Narrow Escape--A Five Thousand Foot Dive Through s.p.a.ce.

"I feel confident I can manage it, and that the result will be both instructive and unique, and provided the weather is clear and I get as small a dose of 'Bosche' as possible, there is no reason why it shouldn't be successful."

"Of course, I am quite aware of the atmospheric difficulties. The fact that it is so thick and misty is entirely due to the heavy body of moisture in the ground--but if I start off early in the morning I may just escape it."

This conversation took place in the office of a certain British aerodrome in France between the Flight Commander and myself. We had been going into the pros and cons of an aerial expedition over the German lines. I was anxious to film the whole line from an aeroplane.

"Well," said he, "what about the height? I think I had better call in the Captain," and pressing a bell an orderly quickly appeared and was sent off to inform the Captain that his presence was required.

"I say," said the Flight Commander, "this is Malins, the War Office Kinematographer." He then explained my mission and requirements.

"Now," he said, after all preliminaries had been discussed, "the question is about the height. What is a tolerably safe height over 'Bosche'?"

"About 8,000 feet, I should say, though of course if we go well over his lines it will be necessary to rise higher. There are too many 'Archibalds' about to dodge any lower."

"Well," I replied, "I'll start taking my scenes when we arrive at the coast-line. We can then follow it along and turn off inland towards Ypres. I should very much like to film that place from above, then follow down the lines, pa.s.sing over St. Eloi, Ploegsteert, Armentieres, Neuve Chapelle, Richebourg, Festubert, Givenchy, Loos, Hohenzollern Redoubt, and on to Arras. I am of course entirely in your hands. I do not want to jeopardise the trip, nor wish you to run any unnecessary risks, you understand, but I should like to get as low as possible, and so obtain more detail. It will be the first kinematograph film ever taken of the Western Front."

"Well," said the Flight Commander, rising, "you have full permission.

You can have the use of a BE 2C machine, with Captain ----. Do what you like, but take care. Don't be rash. Good luck to you. I shall be as anxious as you to see the result."

In the Captain's company I left the office, and together we went round to make arrangements regarding the means of fixing my camera.

The machine was the usual type of pa.s.senger-carrying aero, numbered BE 2C, a very stable and reliable machine, but according to the Captain, not very fast. Speed in this case was not an absolute necessity, unless a Fokker favoured us with his attentions.

[Ill.u.s.tration: IN THE TRENCHES AT THE FAMOUS AND DEADLY HOHENZOLLERN REDOUBT, AFTER A GERMAN ATTACK. SHORTLY AFTER THIS WAS TAKEN I WAS SHOT THROUGH MY SERVICE CAP BY A GERMAN SNIPER]

I went aboard to find the best means of fixing and operating my camera.

I decided to use my debrie, not the aeroscope. The latter had jambed a day or two previous, and I had not had an opportunity of repairing it. The observer's seat was in the front, and just above, on the main struts, was a cross-tube of metal. On each end was an upright socket, for the purpose of dropping into it a Lewis gun. The pilot also had the same in front of him.

I suggested that a metal fixing, which would fit the socket, and a tilting arrangement, so that it would be possible to raise or lower the camera to any angle, would suit admirably, and on the other side, in case of attack, a Lewis gun could be fitted.

"It's well to be prepared for emergencies," said the Captain. "It's quite possible we shall be attacked."

"Well," I said, "I will have a good shot at him if he does turn up. And who knows--I may be able to get a picture of the Hun machine falling. By Jove, what a thrill it would provide!"

Instructions were given to the excellent mechanics employed in the R.F.C., and within an hour or so the metal tilting-top was made and fixed on the plane.