205466 L/Cpl. Arthur "Buzzer" Marriott British Army 7th Btn. City of London Regt from:Leicester I eventually arrived back at my unit feeling more scared than ever and wondering if I would survive the war. When I arrived at base I was told my unit was in the Front Line not far from Amiens and I was to join them at night going with the mule train which took up our rations and brought back the dead for burial. We started off and passed by the heavy Howitzer guns which were firing and scaring the mules to death. After we had gone so far the Sergeant told us we must now go by communication trench up to our Front Line. We were walking through the winding trenches for what seemed ages, so that we arrived at about “stand to†at 6am, and we were detailed to take up positions on the firing step looking out for any possible German attack. After “stand down†I was back on my old job of inspecting our wire defences making a note of where we had to repair the gaps made by shell fire. To do this when Jerry was only a short distance away I had to use a box periscope, making a note of the gaps. I would have some breakfast and get in my little dug-out and go to sleep very often to be awakened by a “close oneâ€. Up in the evening again things seemed to be rather quiet, not a very good sign and usually a portent of things to come later on. My gang was ready for going over with coils of barbed wire and stakes, when the Fighting Patrol Sergeant came and told me that they would be going out and not to mistake them for the enemy. He was a man with a charmed life. He held the Croix de Gare, Belgian Militaire, the Distinguished Conduct Medal and Military Medals (British). A quiet unassuming individual but very efficient. I assured him we would be on the look-out but at the same time not to cause a rumpus out there and get us all killed. “All right, don’t worry,†he replied. We had finished our job and were creeping in at a given time so that our men in the front trench would not start firing at us or lobbing hand grenades over to us, when suddenly someone grabbed my arm. It was the Patrol Sergeant and he whispered: “Come with me I want to show you something.†I followed him but knowing him I was really scared, “very lights†seemed to increase in number as we went into the unknown, but he was a man who seemed to give one confidence with his quiet manner. He started to go down what seemed like a sunken road and I followed. Suddenly I realised that we were in a tunnel, I could see little pin points of light scurrying about and he said: “Don’t be afraid of the rats.†Then, to my horror, he shone torchlight in front of him. I said: “Put that bloody light out.†But he calmly replied: “You’re all right, they can’t see us in hereâ€. He shone the light all around this German dug-out in the middle of “no man’s landâ€. The dug-out was well fitted out with wire beds in rows and I nearly screamed when I saw every bed was occupied by a German but the stench told me that they were all dead and the rats kept running away from the bodies when we approached the beds. He took my arm and led me to the end cubicle occupied by the “Kammandant†who had with him female company, a French woman he had smuggled in for a night. The sergeant said that they had been there for months undisturbed only by death from poison gas. The bodies were so decomposed that they were frightful to look at and I was very glad to be out of there in the fresh night air. The sergeant showed me the way back to our front line. I was expecting him to come with me, but he said he had more work to do. I found out afterwards that he had been in the German front line and brought back a box of oranges and a German prisoner. His method was stealth. By sneaking in on the enemy he would stun him and carry him over his shoulder back to our lines for interrogation, very often the sergeant would be missing for several days and nights.
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