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With the Black Watch
The Story of the Marne
by
Scout Joe Cassells
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This is
the First Edition
The Author was a first-class
reservist mobilized in 1914 with the 1st Bn. Black Watch (Royal
Highlanders). Active service from Mons to the Marne as a
battalion runner & scout until wounded in Jan. 1915, followed by
a short description of hospital life until discharged on 5th
August 1915, “No longer physically fit for war service.”
Although listed under “non-fiction” there
is some doubt as to the veracity of Cassells’ account. |
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Front cover and spine
Further images of this book are
shown below
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Publisher and place of
publication |
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Dimensions in inches (to
the nearest quarter-inch) |
London: Andrew Melrose Ltd |
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4¾ inches wide x 7½ inches tall |
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Edition |
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Length |
There is no date of publication listed;
however, the penultimate chapter deals with events in 1916, so a publication
date of circa 1917 seems appropriate. |
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[vii] + 248 pages |
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Condition of covers |
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Internal condition |
Original blue cloth blocked in yellow. The
covers are rubbed but still fairly bright. The spine has faded slightly. The
spine ends and corners are bumped. There is a forward spine lean and there
are some indentations along the edges of the boards. |
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There is a previous owner's name inscribed in
ink on the front free end-paper. There are no other internal markings
and the text is clean throughout; however, the War-time paper has tanned
noticeably with age, particularly in the margins (please see the images
below). |
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Dust-jacket present? |
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Other
comments |
No |
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The usual problem of First World War vintage
paper tanning with age, but otherwise a Very Good example of the First
Edition. |
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Illustrations,
maps, etc |
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Contents |
NONE : No illustrations are called
for |
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Foreword by an American, fifteen
untitled chapters, Epilogue
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Post & shipping
information |
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Payment options |
The packed weight is approximately
700 grams.
Full shipping/postage information is
provided in a panel
at the end of this listing.
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Payment options
:-
UK buyers: cheque (in
GBP), debit card, credit card (Visa, MasterCard but
not Amex), PayPal
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International buyers: credit card
(Visa, MasterCard but not Amex), PayPal
Full payment information is provided in a
panel at the end of this listing. |
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With the Black Watch : The
Story of the Marne
Foreword
By an American
FROM Mons to the Marne lies the bloodiest trail of sacrifice in
history.
In all the records of war, there stands forth no more magnificent
and no more melancholy achievement than that of the British regular
army, which bled its heroic way in diminishing numbers from the
challenge to the check of the initial German sweep upon Paris. It
could not hope for decisive victory ; it could only clog the wheels
of the Juggernaut with lives and lives and lives, sold bravely and
dearly.
Before a countless superiority of numbers and an incalculable
advantage in preparedness, it could only stand, and fall—and stand
again, and fall—until the end; when the cause of the Allies was
saved for the hour.
Of the "first hundred thousand" there remained barely a little
leaven of trained men for the New British Army then assembling to
learn the trade of warfare.
The ablest pens writing of the Great War have paid tribute to this
splendid deed which changed the course of its beginning. French's
retreat from Mons has been a topic to inspire the highest eloquence
of the patriotic historian and the most profound admiration of the
militarist. Everything, from the point of the onlooker, has been
said of it.
But everything that has been said, retires into the perspective of
the academic, when one reads, in this volume, the words of a trained
British soldier who experienced and survived it. For stark and
simple strength, for realism of detail, for a complete picturization
of the desperate and heroic resistance of the sacrificial army, this
soldier's tale is, and will remain, unequalled and unique.
This prefatory emphasis is not vain or extravagant. It need not fear
the fact that there is but the turning of a page between promise and
performance. Here is a writing which is of the war, and therefore
differs from all writings which can only be about the war. It
conveys to the reader an almost paralyzing sense of wonder at the
steadfastness of Britain's military traditions, put to an unexampled
test. It shows how marvellously well a soldier may learn his
business in advance—when his business is to die. Concerning one of
the most noteworthy accomplishments of the arms of Britain, there
will survive in print no more compelling and convincing narrative
than this, the utterance of one whose trade was fighting and not
writing.
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With the Black Watch : The
Story of the Marne
Excerpt:
. . . Soon our own artillery
began to locate the German guns, whose fire now diminished. Then our
infantry began to cross the river at a dozen points. On the opposite
bank was a village by the name of Bourg. Up and down hills we worked
our way, forcing the enemy off the ridges. The details of the
operations would not now be of interest. We wanted to close with the
bayonets, but the Boches weren't ready for that, and they dropped
back foot by foot, keeping up a hot fire.
On this side of the river were numerous stone quarries, and in these
we found tons and tons of ammunition for the heavy German guns. The
type and manufacturers' marks showed that some of it was made as far
back as the Franco-Prussian war. It had been lying in caches in the
quarries for years, the Prussians having bought titles to some of
the land through spies who posed as Frenchmen. They had been making
use of this ammunition against us. It shows how long ago the war was
planned and by whom. In some of the quarries we uncovered reinforced
concrete fortification and emplacements for cannon.
Our commander, Colonel Grant Duff, was in the thickest of the
fighting. I saw him distributing bandoliers of ammunition along the
firing line. His men tried to make him go to the rear, but we were
having a tough time to keep fire superiority, and we needed every
man in the line. Suddenly Colonel Duff staggered and slouched
forward on his hands and knees. The bandoliers he was carrying,
scattered. Several men rushed to him, but he got to his feet himself
and ordered them back to their posts. An ugly red stain was
spreading over his tartan riding breeches and leggings, but he
staggered onward with the ammunition. He had not gone a dozen steps
when both his arms flew up into the air and he fell backward. This
time he did not move. He had been shot straight through the heart,
and another commander of the Black Watch had gone fee join the long
line of heroes who had so often led this regiment to victory.
Many of our company commanders were picked off by the enemy because
of their distinctive dress, their celluloid map cases affording
excellent targets.
My memory of this fight is somewhat fragmentary. There are phases
which are all but blanks to me. Others stand out with startling
distinctness.
We were advancing in skirmishing order through a wood. A pal of my
old athletic days, Ned McD------ fighting a few yards from
me in our scattered line, fell with a bullet through both thighs. I
made him as comfortable as I could, in a nook about twenty paces
back from where our men, lying on their stomachs, were keeping up a
steady rifle fire through the underbrush. I had hardly returned to
the line when the whistle of our platoon commander sounded, and we
were then ordered to retire to the farther edge of the plateau,
where our men could have better protection from the enemy fire. I
hurriedly placed McD------ under the edge of a bank, where, at
least, he would not be trampled on by men or horses.
"Don't attempt to leave the spot, Ned," I said. "I'll get back to
you to-night if I can get the chance." The chance did come, but when
I reached the spot he had disappeared. Our subsequent meeting—the
story of which I shall tell—is one of my few agreeable recollections
in the train of the tragedy of our campaign.
But to go back to the fight.
Soon after leaving the spot where McD------ lay, I joined in a
charge on a line of hidden trenches. We were upon them, and it was
steel and teeth again. I saw an officer run in under a bayonet
thrust, and jab his thumbs into a German's eyes. The Boche rolled
upon the ground, screaming. How long we fought I do not know. When
it was over we began to pick up the wounded. It was night. The
Prussian guns were still hammering at us, and some of the shells set
fire to a number of haystacks in the field where we had crossed the
open. It was Hell. In the red glare of the fire the stretcher
bearers hurried here and there with the dying, while others who had
been placed behind the haystacks for shelter, burned to death when
the stalks caught fire. The few who could, crawled away from the
fire. Those of us who were able to do so, pulled others to safety,
and many a man had his hands and face badly burnt, rescuing a
helpless comrade.
The next morning we went at them again. In the first rush, I felt a
sudden slap against my thigh. It did not feel like anything more
than a blow from an open palm. I thought nothing more of it until
after the fight, when some one told me I was bleeding. A bullet had
struck the flesh of my thigh. The slight wound was dressed at the
regimental station, and I was ready for duty again.
That night I was assigned to outpost duty between the lines. The
German artillery had so covered the roads and the bridge, that for
two days the supply wagons had been unable to come up. I was almost
starved. My stomach ached incessantly from sheer hunger and I was
weak from the bleeding of my wound. It seems terrible, looking back
at it, but, during the night, while my partner watched, I crawled
out and searched the dead for rations. I found none. Fifty paces
from our post lay a dead artillery horse. We had to eat—or drop.
What could we do ? Wriggling on my belly like a snake, I drew myself
toward the smelling carcass, cut off enough with my jack-knife to do
the section; brought it back and we ate it.
There followed days of lying in the trenches. Every time one of us
showed a head above the surface of the earth a single shot would
ring out, and more than once it accomplished its mission. Two or
three times I almost caught it myself. At last I made up my mind
that the sniper must be in a sugar factory building which showed
clearly above a ridge on the right front of our position. Jock
Hunter and I volunteered to go there and investigate. Working our
way under cover of a wooded patch, we reached the factory yard,
where we encountered an old Frenchman who seemed to be the owner of
the place.
" What do you want ? " he demanded.
Have you seen a sniper anywhere about here ? " I asked.
" No," he answered in a surly manner," and you get out of here."
"We'll get out," I retorted, " and you'll get with us."
I searched the factory building from cellar to roof, but wasn't able
to discover anything incriminating. I didn't know much about sugar
factories, but there was a lot of machinery in the place that didn't
look to me as if it had anything to do with sugar.
Back to our lines we went, with the supposed Frenchman making a lot
of noise, but walking about two inches in front of the points of our
bayonets. When he was searched we found notes to the value of
fifteen thousand francs sewed in his clothes; but most important of
all, there were papers upon his person which showed that he was a
German spy left there by the Prussians in 1871. He held title to
many acres of land, including some of the quarries where shells had
been hidden.
I told the company officer of the suspicious-looking machinery in
the factory. He sent us back there with a subaltern of the
engineers. The three of us approached the building by different
routes. Suddenly, from a narrow window in the tower of the
structure, a rifle cracked, and I saw the subaltern duck behind a
bush. Hunter and I each began to run toward the factory. Zip ! A
bullet whistled past my ear, and a few seconds later Hunter was
fired at.
We all reached the place together. As the firing had been from the
tower, we hurried to the upper storeys, but the subaltern saw at a
glance that the machinery I had noticed was a wireless plant.
Afterward we found that the numerous " lightning rods " on the
factory were in reality wireless antennae. We went to the top of the
tower without finding a single soul, but in a little room in the
cupola, there were a few bread-crumbs scattered over the floor. A
corner of the linoleum covering on the floor of this room looked a
little uneven. The subaltern posted each of us in a different corner
with orders to fire five rapid rounds from our rifles into different
points of the floor. He himself was to discharge his revolver in a
like manner. At his signal we all opened fire, splintering the floor
in several places. Then we heard a groan.
"Come up here ! " called the subaltern, in English. There was no
answer. He repeated the command in German. Very slowly the linoleum
in the corner of the room where it was uneven began to hump up. We
all stood ready to fire. A trap-door was lifting.
Presently the corner of the floor
covering was pushed back completely and a man's face appeared. It
was a very white, drawn face, and, as the shoulders rose above the
floor level, we saw that the man had been struck by at least one of
our bullets. His left arm hung limp by his side. We patched him up.
The officer told Hunter and myself to cut all wires, which, after
some search, we found had been laid at the bottom of the walls and
cunningly concealed by the grass. Then we took our prisoner back to
our lines. An hour later our howitzers had demolished the factory.
Up to this time, the Boche artillery had been planting one shell
after another on our positions, no matter how often we shifted.
After the factory was destroyed we made one more move and no shells
found us.
We dug ourselves into the ground, and the almost continual rain made
mud-holes out of the trenches. Our force was not large enough in
those days to allow of the elaborate system of supports and reserves
that existed later. Then men in the firing trenches had to stay
there, and there was no going back into bomb-proofs for a rest. At
night we lay down all in our muddy clothes, with a waterproof sheet
beneath us and our greatcoats around us. The sheet didn't do much
good, because after lying in it for a while, it got pressed down
into the mud and slime, which then came all over the edges. Every
one had a cold, and many of the men suffered from rheumatism, but no
complaints were heard. It is only when things are going smoothly and
"fags " are lacking, that the British Tommy kicks.
Owing to the lack of supplies, the issues of cigarettes were so few
and far between that the dry tea that was sent up as part rations
was used to make " fags." Tommies would roll the tea in paper in the
form of cigarettes and smoke it. As much five francs would be
offered for one " Woodbine " when our supplies were exhausted. A "
fag " was a most precious thing, and guarded jealously. A fellow
would get into a corner, take a couple of puffs, " nip " it, then
hide it away in a safe place on his person for fear of thieves in
the night! . . .
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Please note: to avoid opening the book out, with the
risk of damaging the spine, some of the pages were slightly raised on the
inner edge when being scanned, which has resulted in some blurring to the
text and a
shadow on the inside edge of the final images. Colour reproduction is shown
as accurately as possible but please be aware that some colours
are difficult to scan and may result in a slight variation from
the colour shown below to the actual colour.
In line with eBay guidelines on picture sizes, some of the illustrations may
be shown enlarged for greater detail and clarity.
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U.K. buyers:
To estimate the
“packed
weight” each book is first weighed and then
an additional amount of 150 grams is added to allow for the packaging
material (all
books are securely wrapped and posted in a cardboard book-mailer).
The weight of the book and packaging is then rounded up to the
nearest hundred grams to arrive at the postage figure. I make no charge for packaging materials and
do not seek to profit
from postage and packaging. Postage can be combined for multiple purchases. |
Packed weight of this item : approximately 700 grams
Postage and payment options to U.K. addresses: |
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Details of the various postage options can be obtained by selecting
the “Postage and payments” option at the head of this
listing (above). -
Payment can be made by: debit card, credit
card (Visa or MasterCard, but not Amex), cheque (payable to
"G Miller", please), or PayPal. -
Please contact me with name,
address and payment details within seven days of the end of the auction;
otherwise I reserve the right to cancel the auction and re-list the item. -
Finally, this should be an enjoyable
experience for both the buyer and seller and I hope you will
find me very easy to deal with. If you have a question or query
about any aspect (postage, payment, delivery options and so on),
please do not hesitate to contact me, using the contact details
provided at the end of this listing.
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International
buyers:
To estimate the
“packed
weight” each book is first weighed and then
an additional amount of 150 grams is added to allow for the packaging
material (all
books are securely wrapped and posted in a cardboard book-mailer).
The weight of the book and packaging is then rounded up to the
nearest hundred grams to arrive at the shipping figure.
I make no charge for packaging materials and do not
seek to profit
from shipping and handling.
Shipping can
usually be combined for multiple purchases
(to a
maximum
of 5 kilograms in any one parcel with the exception of Canada, where
the limit is 2 kilograms). |
Packed weight of this item : approximately 700 grams
International Shipping options: |
Details of the postage options
to various countries (via Air Mail) can be obtained by selecting
the “Postage and payments” option at the head of this listing
(above) and then selecting your country of residence from the drop-down
list. For destinations not shown or other requirements, please contact me before buying.
Due to the
extreme length of time now taken for deliveries, surface mail is no longer
a viable option and I am unable to offer it even in the case of heavy items.
I am afraid that I cannot make any exceptions to this rule.
Payment options for international buyers: |
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Payment can be made by: credit card (Visa
or MasterCard, but not Amex) or PayPal. I can also accept a cheque in GBP [British
Pounds Sterling] but only if drawn on a major British bank. -
Regretfully, due to extremely
high conversion charges, I CANNOT accept foreign currency : all payments
must be made in GBP [British Pounds Sterling]. This can be accomplished easily
using a credit card, which I am able to accept as I have a separate,
well-established business, or PayPal. -
Please contact me with your name and address and payment details within
seven days of the end of the auction; otherwise I reserve the right to
cancel the auction and re-list the item. -
Finally, this should be an enjoyable experience for
both the buyer and seller and I hope you will find me very easy to deal
with. If you have a question or query about any aspect (shipping,
payment, delivery options and so on), please do not hesitate to contact
me, using the contact details provided at the end of this listing.
Prospective international
buyers should ensure that they are able to provide credit card details or
pay by PayPal within 7 days from the end of the auction (or inform me that
they will be sending a cheque in GBP drawn on a major British bank). Thank you.
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(please note that the
book shown is for illustrative purposes only and forms no part of this
auction)
Book dimensions are given in
inches, to the nearest quarter-inch, in the format width x height.
Please
note that, to differentiate them from soft-covers and paperbacks, modern
hardbacks are still invariably described as being ‘cloth’ when they are, in
fact, predominantly bound in paper-covered boards pressed to resemble cloth. |
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Fine Books for Fine Minds |
I value your custom (and my
feedback rating) but I am also a bibliophile : I want books to arrive in the
same condition in which they were dispatched. For this reason, all books are
securely wrapped in tissue and a protective covering and are
then posted in a cardboard container. If any book is
significantly not as
described, I will offer a full refund. Unless the
size of the book precludes this, hardback books with a dust-jacket are
usually provided with a clear film protective cover, while
hardback books without a dust-jacket are usually provided with a rigid clear cover.
The Royal Mail, in my experience, offers an excellent service, but things
can occasionally go wrong.
However, I believe it is my responsibility to guarantee delivery.
If any book is lost or damaged in transit, I will offer a full refund.
Thank you for looking.
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