NOVEMBER 12, 1918
Stand by. Unfix bayonets
The British Army began its first battle of the war at Mons on August 22, 1914, and, by the grace of God, our troops stood in this same spot when the order came to cease fire. That the enemy had made up his mind that the end had come, our troops yesterday had ample evidence. On most of the front they marched and rode almost as they pleased. The news of the armistice was got forward to our far-flung patrols and batteries with great promptitude, and a great silence fell upon the land after 11 o’clock. There can be no harm now in saying that the message had been expected, and there had been ample time to signal the news beyond the points where telegraph and telephone cease. Our scattered troops were told to unfix bayonets and unload magazines and to stand to for further orders. No attempt was to be made to fraternize with the enemy. I believe there was some demonstrativeness on the German side, and I hear of German troops seen trying to break their rifles or throw them away. But, on the whole, the great tidings appear to have been taken pretty quietly. Amongst the troops in rest there was more jubilation. At headquarters close to the line parades had been arranged of all available troops as soon as the news was received, and at 11 o’clock the bugles sounded the “Cease fire” and the bands played the “Marseillaise” and “God Save the King”. Many then broke out into “Tipperary”, which the peasantry seem to imagine is our National Anthem, to judge by the respect with which they hearkened to the strains.
Shortly after 11 o’clock the roads presented an extraordinary scene. Refugees began to stream back in swarms. The Germans are manifestly anxious to show their good faith, for very shortly after the armistice dispatch riders were bringing into Corps Headquarters full details of the positions of all mines, booby traps, and leads, which had been sent over under the white flag by enemy commands.
The day is grey and drizzling, which does not conduce to outdoor demonstrations on the part of people who have suffered much, and many of whom cannot yet tell how many of their dear ones have fallen in the terrible struggle. Silent thankfulness is the prevailing sentiment today in the war area of Northern France.










