In
front of it was a great barbed-wire barricade. Strategically it
commanded the main road over which the German Army must pass to reach
the point it has been striving for. Only seven miles away along that
road it was straining even then for the onward spring movement. Any
day now, and that luxurious trench may be the scene of grim and
terrible fighting.
And, more than that, these men at the station were not waiting for
danger to come to them. Day after day they were engaged in the most
perilous business of the war.
At this station some of the queer anomalies of a volunteer army were
to be found. So strongly ingrained in the heart of the British youth
of good family is the love of country, that when he is unable to get
his commission he goes in any capacity. I heard of a little chap, too
small for the regular service, who has gone to the front as a cook!
His uncle sits in the House of Lords. And here, at this naval air
station, there were young noncommissioned officers who were
Honourables, and who were trying their best to live it down. One such
youth was in charge of the great van that is the repair shop for the
airship. Others were in charge of the wireless station. One met them
everywhere, clear-eyed young Englishmen ready and willing to do
anything, no matter what, and proving every moment of their busy day
the essential democracy of the English people.
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