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GRAPES OF WRATH




  GRAPES OF
  WRATH

  BY

  BOYD CABLE

  AUTHOR OF
  "BETWEEN THE LINES," "ACTION FRONT,"
  AND "DOING THEIR BIT"

  [Illustration]

  NEW YORK
  E. P. DUTTON & CO.
  681 FIFTH AVENUE




  COPYRIGHT, 1917,
  BY
  E. P. DUTTON AND COMPANY

  Printed in the United States of America




  _TO
  ALL RANKS OF THE NEW ARMIES_


    _Men of the Old Country, Men of the Overseas, and those good men
    among the Neutrals who put all else aside to join up and help us to
    Victory, this book is dedicated with pride and admiration by_

              _THE AUTHOR_

      _In the Field,
  20th January, 1917_




THE AUTHOR'S ACKNOWLEDGMENT


Acknowledgments are due to the Editors of _The Cornhill Magazine_,
_Land and Water_, and _Pearson's Magazine_ for permission to reprint
such portions of this book as have appeared in their pages.




[Illustration]




BOYD CABLE--A PREFATORY NOTE


The readers of Boyd Cable's "Between the Lines," "Action Front," and
"Doing Their Bit," have very naturally had their curiosity excited
as to an author who, previously unheard of, has suddenly become the
foremost word-painter of active fighting at the present day, and the
greatest "literary discovery" of the War.

Boyd Cable is primarily a man of action; and for half of his not very
long life he has been doing things instead of writing them. At the
age of twenty he joined a corps of Scouts in the Boer War, and saw
plenty of fighting in South Africa. After the close of that war, his
life consisted largely of traveling in Great Britain and the principal
countries of Europe and the Mediterranean, his choice always leading
him from the beaten track. He also spent some time in Australia
and in New Zealand, not only in the cities, but in the outposts of
civilization, on the edge of the wilderness, both there and in the
Philippines, Java, and other islands of the Pacific.

When he travels, Mr. Cable does not merely take a steamer-berth or
a railway-ticket and write up his notes from an observation car or
a saloon deck. He looks out after a job, and puts plenty of energy
into it while he is at it; in fact, so many different things has he
done, that he says himself that it is easier to mention the things he
has not done than the ones he has. He has been an ordinary seaman,
typewriter agent, a steamer-fireman, office-manager, hobo, farmhand,
gold prospector, coach-driver, navvy, engine-driver, and many other
things. And strangely enough, though he knows so much from practical
experience, he has, until recently, never thought of writing down what
he has seen.

Before this present War, he was on the staff of a London advertising
agency. At the outbreak of hostilities, he offered his services and was
accepted in 1914, being one of the first men not in the regular army to
get a commission and be sent to the front.

It was his experience as "Forward Officer" (or observation officer
in the artillery) that gave him the material which he began to use in
"Between the Lines."

In this dangerous and responsible position, his daily life of literally
"hairbreadth" escapes afforded him experiences as thrilling as any he
has described in his books. On one occasion, for instance, when his
position had been "spotted" by enemy sharp-shooters, he got a bullet
through his cap, one through his shoulder-strap, one through the inside
of his sleeve close to his heart, and fifty-three others near enough
for him to hear them pass--all in less than an hour.

After eighteen months of this death-defying work, without even a
wound, Mr. Boyd Cable was naturally disgusted at being invalided home
on account of stomach trouble; but it was only this enforced leisure
that gave him really time to take up writing seriously. As may be
remembered, the British Government selected him officially to make the
rounds of the munition factories and write an account of what was being
done in them, with the purpose of circulating it among the men at the
front, to let them see that the workers at home were "doing their bit."

The following letter has just been received from Mr. Boyd Cable by
the publishers, and they venture to include it here, entirely without
the writer's consent (since that would be impossible to get within the
necessary time), and fully realizing that the letter was not written
with a view to publication. They feel that it will give the reader
an intimate view of the author, such as no amount of description or
explanation could do.

    "... Many thanks for all the trouble you have taken trying to place
    my stories in magazines. It certainly is odd that British in U. S.
    A. are not more interested in the war. I only hope the States won't
    have one of its own to be interested in, but honestly I expect it
    within very few years.

    I am very glad you like "Grapes of Wrath" and hope the further
    chapters (which Smith, Elder & Company tell me they have sent
    you) will equally please. I may not tell you where I am or what
    I'm doing since the Censor forbids, but may just say that since I
    came out again I've seen plenty of the Somme "Push" and have been
    able to make "Grapes of Wrath" the more accurate and up to date in
    details.

    Now we're all awaiting the Spring with full anticipations of going
    in for the last round and the knock-out to Germany. We're all very
    confident she can't stand the pace we've set for next year.

    We're having some bitter weather--fierce cold and wet and snow, but
    we're putting up with it, more or less cheered by the assurance
    that the Huns are feeling it every bit as bad as we are and
    probably a bit worse.

    With all regards and every good wish for the coming year...."

It only remains to add that the importance of Mr. Boyd Cable's work may
be judged by the fact that of "Between the Lines" considerably over a
hundred thousand copies have been printed in Great Britain alone.

            THE PUBLISHERS.




CONTENTS


  CHAPTER                           PAGE

     I. TOWARDS THE PUSH              15

    II. THE OVERTURE OF THE GUNS      26

   III. THE EDGE OF BATTLE            37

    IV. ACROSS THE OPEN               50

     V. ON CAPTURED GROUND            69

    VI. TAKING PUNISHMENT             79

   VII. BLIND MAN'S BUFF              98

  VIII. OVER THE TOP                 112

    IX. A SIDE SHOW                  134

     X. THE COUNTER ATTACK           152

    XI. FORWARD OBSERVING            179

   XII. A VILLAGE AND A HELMET       201

  XIII. WITH THE TANKS               229

   XIV. THE BATTLE HYMN              244

    XV. CASUALTIES                   253

   XVI. PLAY OUT THE GAME            275




BATTLE HYMN OF THE REPUBLIC


  _Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord:
  He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored;
  He hath loosed the fatal lightning of His terrible swift sword:
          His truth is marching on._

  _I have seen Him in the watch fires of a hundred circling camps;
  They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and damps:
  I can read His righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps:
          His day is marching on._

  _I have read a fiery gospel, writ in burnished rows of steel:
  "As ye deal with My contemners, so with you My grace shall deal";
  Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with His heel!
          Since God is marching on!_

  _He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat,
  He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment seat;
  Oh! be swift, my soul, to answer Him! be jubilant, my feet!
          Our God is marching on._

  _In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born, across the sea,
  With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me;
  As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free,
          While God is marching on._

  _He is coming like the glory of the morning on the wave;
  He is wisdom to the mighty, He is succor to the brave;
  So the world shall be His footstool and the soul of time His slave:
          Our God is marching on._

            JULIA WARD HOWE.




AUTHOR'S FOREWORD


It is possible that this book may be taken for an actual account of
the Somme battle, but I warn readers that although it is in the bulk
based on the fighting there and is no doubt  by the fact that
the greater part of it was written in the Somme area or between visits
to it, I make no claim for it as history or as an historical account.
My ambition was the much lesser one of describing as well as I could
what a Big Push is like from the point of view of an ordinary average
infantry private, of showing how much he sees and knows and suffers in
a great battle, of giving a glimpse perhaps of the spirit that animates
the New Armies, the endurance that has made them more than a match for
the Germans, the acceptance of appalling and impossible horrors as the
work-a-day business and routine of battle, the discipline and training
that has fused such a mixture of material into tempered fighting metal.

For the tale itself, I have tried to put into words merely the sort
of story that might and could be told by thousands of our men to-day.
I hope, in fact, I have so "told the tale" that such men as I have
written of may be able to put this book in your hands and say: "This
chapter just describes our crossing the open," or "That is how we were
shelled," or "I felt the same about my Blighty one."

It may be that before this book is complete in print another, a
greater, a longer and bloodier, and a last battle may be begun, and I
wish this book may indicate the kind of men who will be fighting it,
the stout hearts they will bring to the fight, the manner of faith and
assurance they will feel in Victory, complete and final to the gaining
of such Peace terms as we may demand.

              THE AUTHOR.

      In the Field
  20th January, 1917.




GRAPES OF WRATH




CHAPTER I

TOWARDS THE PUSH


The rank and file of the 5/6 Service Battalion of the Stonewalls
knew that "there was another push on," and that they were moving up
somewhere into the push; but beyond that and the usual crop of wild and
loose-running rumors they knew nothing. Some of the men had it on the
most exact and positive authority that they were for the front line
and "first over the parapet"; others on equally positive grounds knew
that they were to be in reserve and not in the attack at all; that they
were to be in support and follow the first line; that there was to be
nothing more than an artillery demonstration and no infantry attack at
all; that the French were taking over our line for the attack; that
we were taking over the French line. The worst of it was that there
were so many tales nobody could believe any of them, but, strangely
enough, that did not lessen the eager interest with which each in turn
was heard and discussed, or prevent each in turn securing a number of
supporters and believers.

But all the rumors appeared to be agreed that up to now the push had
not begun, so far as the infantry were concerned, and also that, as
Larry Arundel put it, "judging by the row the guns are making it's
going to be some push when it does come."

The Stonewalls had been marching up towards the front by easy stages
for three days past, and each day as they marched, and, in fact,
each hour of this last day, the uproar of artillery fire had grown
steadily greater and greater, until now the air trembled to the violent
concussions of the guns, the shriek and rumble of the shells, and
occasionally to the more thrilling and heart-shaking shriek of an enemy
shell, and the crash of its burst in our lines.

It was almost sunset when the Stonewalls swung off the road and halted
in and about a little orchard. The lines of an encampment--which
was intended for no more than a night's bivouac--were laid out,
and the men unbuckled their straps, laid off their packs, and sank
thankfully to