http://chestnut-ah.blogspot.com/2017/05/100-years-ago-greecesalonika.html
The struggle was a wild one. At noon on the first day the heads of Germans were seen at various points, and presently on they came, out of the sunken road which our troops had occupied earlier, diving from shell-hole to shell-hole, two or three hundred of them together, for all the world like a school of seals. It is some new method of attack, and it was well carried out, but they say it was irresistibly funny to watch. It was wiped out by our machine-guns and rifles. The men stood breast high over the parapet, with cigarettes in their mouths and shot as they have seldom had the chance to shoot. A few brave men got within a dozen yards of them in one part. A bombing attack down the trench was made at the same time. It met with a shower of trench mortar bombs. One German was hoisted bodily 30ft into the air, turning over and over as he spun. The attack melted.
The German trench mortars kept up a most powerful bombardment, and under it the right half of the attack was gradually forced back. A Western Australian unit bombed back along the trench to the limit of the objective, and again it was driven back. At 10 o’clock at night the Germans counter-attacked again furiously down the trench. We were holding barely 500 yards of the Hindenburg line by this time.
When things seemed past praying for, the word to retire came along part of the line. The men whom it reached flung it back. “Who said so” they asked. “What officer gave that order?” The officers and men had determined that, if it came to the worst and the Germans closed entirely round them, they would cut their way back through the enemy. But it never came to that. The following afternoon the New South Welshmen bombed their way a full 600 yards up the lost ground. Though with Germans on three sides of them and counter-attacked day and night, the Australians still hold a position not paralleled in the history of this or of any other war.
https://www.thetimes.co.uk/past-six-days/2017-05-10/register/wanted-a-husband-0qwvrbh2c
Miss Gladys Cooper is now so securely established in public favour that, we suggest, she could afford to take risks. She might, for instance, undertake a real live character, if only as a lark. To be sure the public might not see the joke, but what of that? To so thorough a sportswoman art for art’s sake would, by way of a change, have sufficient attraction. We are encouraged to mention art because of “The water-colours in Acts 1 and 3 by Alexander Cozens and Thomas Girtin kindly lent by Edward Marsh, Esq”. Will not some one kindly lend Miss Gladys Cooper something you can call a part in something you can call a play? At present she has to get along playing herself, and replaying herself, and re-replaying herself. You see her, as you always have seen her, fascinatingly offhand, coldly contemptuous of the trousered sex, until her ferocity is tamed by the right man just as it is time for the curtain to fall. You see her in the prettiest possible gowns, making the poor men in their ugly clothes monkeys by comparison. Indeed, the foolish people who talk of the equality of the sexes can never have seen Miss Gladys Cooper on the stage putting men in their place. Of course, when the men are such a set as you see in Wanted, a Husband — a bully, a butler, idiot members of some club — all respondents to a “spoof” matrimonial advertisement, the lady’s task is easy. But Mr Cherry to the rescue! He, if only he, can be cool and collected in presence of this magnificent creature. You see, he has played with her before, and knows the weak points in her armour, and just when to venture the all-conquering kiss. Among so many lamentable men, the presence of Mr Cherry, debonair and crowned with a hat of the right sort, restores your masculine self-respect. No wonder he goes round audibly admiring the kindly lent water-colours. You feel that, as a rare work of art, he must have been kindly lent himself. There is an amusing kitchen scene (range kindly lent by a well-known firm), with Miss Cooper masquerading in an apron, and making hay of Mrs Beeton. Whatever she does the public applaud her. So do we, even against our better judgment, because Miss Cooper fairly knocks judgment endways. All the same, we should like to see her try Millamant some day, just for sport. And Mr Cherry would be the very man for Mirabell.
https://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/german-royal-airmans-last-fight-xrh2sl3wx
“The dying man added: ‘The kindness which has surrounded me since I became a prisoner has brought back the memory of those days. The Australians were very considerate, and the whole atmosphere of this hospital is kindness. God is with me. When I was christened the pastor read out a text as my lifelong message from God. I fear I did not value it enough before I was wounded, but since then it has been a source of consolation. It is ‘If God be for us who can be against us?’ What greater evidence could I have of its truth than the kindness shown me? I lie here a helpless prisoner, but I have no regrets. I did my best for my country, and I am not sorry I am finished with the war. I want to live. I am young, and when the war is over I shall help build up my nation again.’
“I took him chocolates and magazines which friends in England had sent me, and he was profuse in his thanks. He said: ‘You are sure I am not robbing others more deserving?’ An hour or so before he died I prayed with him. He was very weak and ill. When I finished he opened his eyes and with a smile said, ‘Thank you very much.’ He soon fell into unconsciousness, from which he never recovered.”
may 11, 1917
Australians’ refusal to retire
The Australians by midday held a solid section of the Hindenburg line. The Germans attacked heavily at night and the fight surged back and forward. Yesterday they pounded the position with heavy guns, and part of it was lost for a time. But to the present moment our men are still holding almost exactly the line which they were asked to take.The struggle was a wild one. At noon on the first day the heads of Germans were seen at various points, and presently on they came, out of the sunken road which our troops had occupied earlier, diving from shell-hole to shell-hole, two or three hundred of them together, for all the world like a school of seals. It is some new method of attack, and it was well carried out, but they say it was irresistibly funny to watch. It was wiped out by our machine-guns and rifles. The men stood breast high over the parapet, with cigarettes in their mouths and shot as they have seldom had the chance to shoot. A few brave men got within a dozen yards of them in one part. A bombing attack down the trench was made at the same time. It met with a shower of trench mortar bombs. One German was hoisted bodily 30ft into the air, turning over and over as he spun. The attack melted.
The German trench mortars kept up a most powerful bombardment, and under it the right half of the attack was gradually forced back. A Western Australian unit bombed back along the trench to the limit of the objective, and again it was driven back. At 10 o’clock at night the Germans counter-attacked again furiously down the trench. We were holding barely 500 yards of the Hindenburg line by this time.
When things seemed past praying for, the word to retire came along part of the line. The men whom it reached flung it back. “Who said so” they asked. “What officer gave that order?” The officers and men had determined that, if it came to the worst and the Germans closed entirely round them, they would cut their way back through the enemy. But it never came to that. The following afternoon the New South Welshmen bombed their way a full 600 yards up the lost ground. Though with Germans on three sides of them and counter-attacked day and night, the Australians still hold a position not paralleled in the history of this or of any other war.
https://www.thetimes.co.uk/past-six-days/2017-05-10/register/wanted-a-husband-0qwvrbh2c
may 10, 1917
Wanted, a husband
Miss Gladys Cooper is now so securely established in public favour that, we suggest, she could afford to take risks. She might, for instance, undertake a real live character, if only as a lark. To be sure the public might not see the joke, but what of that? To so thorough a sportswoman art for art’s sake would, by way of a change, have sufficient attraction. We are encouraged to mention art because of “The water-colours in Acts 1 and 3 by Alexander Cozens and Thomas Girtin kindly lent by Edward Marsh, Esq”. Will not some one kindly lend Miss Gladys Cooper something you can call a part in something you can call a play? At present she has to get along playing herself, and replaying herself, and re-replaying herself. You see her, as you always have seen her, fascinatingly offhand, coldly contemptuous of the trousered sex, until her ferocity is tamed by the right man just as it is time for the curtain to fall. You see her in the prettiest possible gowns, making the poor men in their ugly clothes monkeys by comparison. Indeed, the foolish people who talk of the equality of the sexes can never have seen Miss Gladys Cooper on the stage putting men in their place. Of course, when the men are such a set as you see in Wanted, a Husband — a bully, a butler, idiot members of some club — all respondents to a “spoof” matrimonial advertisement, the lady’s task is easy. But Mr Cherry to the rescue! He, if only he, can be cool and collected in presence of this magnificent creature. You see, he has played with her before, and knows the weak points in her armour, and just when to venture the all-conquering kiss. Among so many lamentable men, the presence of Mr Cherry, debonair and crowned with a hat of the right sort, restores your masculine self-respect. No wonder he goes round audibly admiring the kindly lent water-colours. You feel that, as a rare work of art, he must have been kindly lent himself. There is an amusing kitchen scene (range kindly lent by a well-known firm), with Miss Cooper masquerading in an apron, and making hay of Mrs Beeton. Whatever she does the public applaud her. So do we, even against our better judgment, because Miss Cooper fairly knocks judgment endways. All the same, we should like to see her try Millamant some day, just for sport. And Mr Cherry would be the very man for Mirabell.
https://www.thetimes.co.uk/article/german-royal-airmans-last-fight-xrh2sl3wx
May 9, 1917
German royal airman’s last fight
Prince Charles Frederick, the German Royal airman, who died at a general hospital in France, told the story of his combat to the Rev M Caldwell, chaplain to German prisoners of war: “I visited the Prince each day from his arrival on to his death. He said, ‘I was doing important work for my commander when I was attacked by British airmen. The contest was keen and exciting. I was hit on my foot, and the pain was intense, but that was not my undoing. My machine was hit, and, although I did my utmost to get back to my lines, I was compelled to descend in full view of the Australians. I decided to burn my machine and run for it. The Australians were too clever for me. I had a sporting chance, but I was not a winner. I felt a twitching sensation in my back, and fell forward, done for. The Australians treated me with the greatest kindness. They are sportsmen and great men. If I am anything I am a sport. I have played tennis with Wilding and other first-class players. I shall never forget the jolly time I had in England when I played them all.’“The dying man added: ‘The kindness which has surrounded me since I became a prisoner has brought back the memory of those days. The Australians were very considerate, and the whole atmosphere of this hospital is kindness. God is with me. When I was christened the pastor read out a text as my lifelong message from God. I fear I did not value it enough before I was wounded, but since then it has been a source of consolation. It is ‘If God be for us who can be against us?’ What greater evidence could I have of its truth than the kindness shown me? I lie here a helpless prisoner, but I have no regrets. I did my best for my country, and I am not sorry I am finished with the war. I want to live. I am young, and when the war is over I shall help build up my nation again.’
“I took him chocolates and magazines which friends in England had sent me, and he was profuse in his thanks. He said: ‘You are sure I am not robbing others more deserving?’ An hour or so before he died I prayed with him. He was very weak and ill. When I finished he opened his eyes and with a smile said, ‘Thank you very much.’ He soon fell into unconsciousness, from which he never recovered.”
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