My Life

My Life - Oswald Mosleythen almost invariably catch fire as the petrol exploded from the burst tank. The mostfortunate were those killed instantly in the crash, or first shot dead.My most interesting experience during the whole of this time had nothing directly todo with flying. At the beginning of the second battle of Ypres in April 1915, theCanadian Expeditionary Force had just arrived in the line for the first time, and wewere detailed to work with them in spotting enemy guns and directing their fire uponthe German batteries by morse signals. I was instructed to make contact with themand to take with me a wireless mast to receive these messages. On a calm spring day Iset out in an R.F.C. truck and duly reached the Canadian guns at the usual distancebehind the lines without incident. It was our habit to drive about in these trucks, oftenwithin enemy range, and as that part of the line happened to be quiet, it was rare forthem to spot it or take the trouble to open fire. This had only happened once before,soon after my arrival with the R.F.C. and was the first time I came under fire. Istopped with the truck in a small wood where there were no marks of enemy fire,thinking we would be unnoticed, but we were spotted and heavily shelled. The littlewood was in splinters but we escaped unscathed. I remember writing to my mother adelighted letter about the incident, because I experienced the common sensation of agreat exhilaration at coming under fire for the first time, a peculiar ecstasy which soonwore off.I reported to the Canadian guns that there was no particular reason for anticipatingtrouble that afternoon, although some rather abnormal troop concentrations on theother side had been noted from air reconnaissance. The work was soon finished by thecorporal and two men accompanying me who were expert in the job, of which I knewlittle or nothing. Meantime, I had established genial relations with some of theCanadian officers, and having the rest of the day at my disposal, decided to send thetruck home and stay with them a little longer. In these quiet conditions it would not bedifficult to get a lift back to Poperinghe before nightfall for my usual work nextmorning.All went well in the small, shallow dug-out where I was being generously entertained,until suddenly the Germans opened the heaviest barrage which the war had so farproduced. Any movement appeared now to be out of the question; for the time beingthere was nothing for it but to sit tight in our little hole of earth and hope that wewould not stop a direct hit. The barrage went on for what seemed to be aninterminable period of time while the whole earth shook. This period of dull, tensewaiting was eventually interrupted by something then completely novel. We noticed acurious acrid smell and at the same time a slight feeling of nausea. Someone said gas,and advised us all to urinate on our handkerchiefs and place them over our mouthsand noses; above all we must make no movement which required deep breathing. Itwas the first gas attack of this war or any other. The advice we received was good, forthis gas was not very lethal. The consequences were only severe to those who movedand breathed deeply, absorbing much of it into their lungs.Shortly afterwards it became known that the combination of this exceptionally heavybarrage and the completely new experience of the gas attack had resulted in the entireexposure of our left flank, which had been held by French colonial troops. TheCanadian commander was thus confronted with the hard choice of retreating toprevent the turning of his flank, or throwing in his reserve to cover the exposed52 of 424