A couple of months later this same person was in the trenches when a British ’plane was compelled to land in a very exposed and shell-swept area.  Both occupants of the machine rushed for the trenches.  The observer reached a place of safety, but the pilot, who was wounded, fell exhausted.  Without thought of personal safety, and despite the fact that the Germans were shelling the machine, the stretcher-bearer climbed ‘over the top,’ in full view of the enemy, and carried the wounded pilot to a shell-hole, where he rendered first-aid and then brought the injured man to the safety of our trenches.  For this further act of bravery he was awarded a bar to his M.M.

‘We were pals.’

A man came to the D.B.O. just after a certain engagement in connexion with which the Australians did splendid work.  They secured a great victory.  They got to their objectives on time and took quite a large number of prisoners.  Every victory has its price, and it was concerning part of the price of victory that the young man had made the visit.  He told of his pal, a D.C.M. man, who had been killed, whose body was lying out on the ridge.  He wished to know whether arrangements could be made for the body to be brought down to a back area cemetery for burial.  Whenever practicable such is done.  The D.B.O. made inquiries, and learned that no transport was available.  The roads were in a frightful condition, and in view of the incessant enemy shelling of the area, decided that the body would have to be buried in the vicinity of where it had fallen.  Arrangements were made for the man to return on the morrow for the purpose of acting as guide to the Padre who would conduct the service.  Next day, he came to the Burials Officer.  Surprise was evinced at the change in his appearance.  His uniform was covered with mud and wet through, and he seemed to be quite exhausted.  ‘I have come about the burial, sir,’ he said.  ’Could it be fixed up for this afternoon, I have brought the body down?’ Upon making inquiries as to how he had managed it, he replied that he and another had asked permission to go out and bring the body in.  It meant a carry over broken ground of about five miles, under heavy shell fire most of the distance; but these faithful comrades gladly endured the hardship and braved the dangers to ensure the burial of their deceased mate in a cemetery which is one of the few that has not been disturbed by the bursting shell.  Thinking that the deceased was a near relative of this brave lad, the question was asked.  His eyes filled with tears as he replied:  ‘No, sir; we were pals.’  Such an incident will surely suffice to erase from the mind the false impression, which, unfortunately a few seem to have gathered, that the Australian is devoid of sentiment.

SUNDAY, ‘SOMEWHERE IN FRANCE’