E-text prepared by Al Haines

Transcriber's note:

In the original book, the author was given as "Sapper," the pseudonym of Herman Cyril McNeile. This e-book uses the author's real name.

NO MAN'S LAND

by

H. C. McNEILE

Author of
  "Men, Women, and Guns,"
  "Sergeant Michael Cassidy, R.E.," and
  "The Lieutenant and Others"

Hodder and Stoughton
London —— New York —— Toronto
MCMXVII

TO

THE INFANTRYMAN

PREFACE

During the first few days of November 1914 Messines was lost—insilence; during the first few days of June 1917 Messines wasregained—and the noise of its capture was heard in London. And duringthe two and a half years between these two events the game over thewater has been going on.

It hasn't changed very much in the time—that game—to the player. Tothose who look on, doubtless, the difference is enormous. Now theyspeak easily of millions where before they thought diffidently ofthousands. But to the individual—well, Messines is lost or Messinesis won; and he is the performer. It is of those performers that Iwrite: of the hole-and-corner work, of the little thumb-nail sketcheswhich go to make up the big battle panels so ably depicted over thematutinal bacon and eggs.

And as one privileged to assist at times in that hole-and-corner work,I offer these pages as a small tribute to those who have done so farmore than I: to the men who have borne the burden of the days, themonths, the years—to the men who have saved the world—to theInfantrymen.

CONTENTS

PART I

THE WAY TO THE LAND

PART II

THE LAND:

I. A DAY OF PEACE II. OVER THE TOP III. THE MAN-TRAP IV. A POINT OF DETAIL V. MY LADY OF THE JASMINE VI. MORPHIA VII. BENDIGO JONES—HIS TREE VIII. THE SONG OF THE BAYONET

PART III

SEED TIME:

I. THE SEED II. THE FIRST LESSON III. AN IMPERSONAL DEMONSTRATION IV. SOMEWHAT MORE PERSONAL V. A PROJECT AND SOME SIDE-ISSUES VI. THE SECOND LESSON AND SOME FURTHER SIDE-ISSUES VII. THE THIRD LESSON, AND A DIGRESSION VIII. THE THIRD LESSON IS LEARNED IX. "AND OTHER FELL ON GOOD GROUND"

PART IV

HARVEST

PART I

THE WAY TO THE LAND

I

It came suddenly when it did come, it may be remembered. Every oneknew it was coming, and yet—it was all so impossible, so incredible.I remember Clive Draycott looking foolishly at his recall telegram inthe club—he had just come home on leave from Egypt—and thenbrandishing it in front of my nose.

"My dear old boy," he remarked peevishly, "it's out of the question.
I'm shooting on the 12th."

But he crossed the next day to Boulogne.

It was a Sunday morning, and Folkestone looked just the same as italways did look. Down by the Pavilion Hotel the usual crowd of Knutsin very tight trousers and very yellow shoes, with suits most obviouslybought off the pe

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