Songs, cards and jokes fill up the waiting hours in the trenches; under fire, indeed, the wit seems to become sharpest.  A corporal in the Motor Cycle Section of the Royal Engineers writes:  “At first the German artillery was rotten.  Three batteries bombarded an entrenched British battalion for two hours and only seven men were killed.  The noise was simply deafening, but so little effect had the fire that the men shouted with laughter and held their caps up on the end of their rifles to give the German gunners a bit of encouragement.”  The same spirit of raillery is spoken of by a Seaforth Highlander, who says one of the Wiltshires stuck out in the trenches a tin can on which was the notice “Business as Usual.”  As, however, it gave the enemy too good a target he was cheerily asked to “take the blooming thing in again,” and in so doing he was wounded twice.

“The liveliest Sunday I ever spent” is how Private P. Case, Liverpool Regiment, describes the fighting at Mons.  “It was a glorious time,” writes Bandsman Wall, Connaught Rangers; “we had nothing to do but shoot the Germans as they came up, just like knocking dolls down at the fair ground.”  “A very pleasant morning in the trenches,” remarks one of the Officers’ Special Reserve; and another writer, after being in several engagements, says, “This is really the best summer holiday I’ve ever had.”

Nothing could excel the coolness of the men under fire.  With a hail of bullets and shells raining about them they sing and jest with each other unconcernedly.  Wiping the dust of battle from his face and loading up for another shot, a Highlander will break forth into one of Harry Lauder’s songs: 

    “It’s a wee deoch an’ doruis,
    Jist a wee drap, that’s a’,”

and with a laugh some English Tommies will make a dash at the line “a braw, bricht, minlicht nicht,” with ludicrous consequences to the pronunciation!  According to “Joe,” of the 2nd Royal Scots, the favorite songs in the trenches or round the camp-fire are “Never Mind,” and “The Last Boat is leaving for Home.”  “Hitchy Koo” is another favorite, and was being sung in the midst of a German attack.  “One man near me was wounded,” says a comrade, “but he sang the chorus to the finish.”

It is remarkable how these songs and witticisms steady the soldiers under fire.  In a letter in the Evening News Sergeant J. Baker writes:  “Some of our men have made wonderful practise with the rifle, and they are beginning to fancy themselves as marksmen.  If they don’t hit something every time they think they ought to see a doctor about it....  Artillery fire, however, is the deadliest thing out, and it takes a lot of nerve to stand it.  The Germans keep up an infernal din from morning till far into the night; but they don’t do half as much damage as you would think, though it is annoying to have all that row going on when you’re trying to write home or make up the regimental accounts.”