Cover
[1]
 By Bruce Bairnsfather
Bullets and Billets
Fragments from France
A Few Fragments from His Life
[2]
FRAGMENTS
FROM FRANCE
BY
CAPTAIN BRUCE BAIRNSFATHER
AUTHOR OF "BULLETS AND BILLETS"




flower



G. P. PUTNAM'S SONS
NEW YORK AND LONDON
The Knickerbocker Press
1917
Transcriber's Note: Where text is included in a cartoon and a closer look would beaid in readability, links are provided to larger images. These links are indicatedby underlines on the caption title providing your browser supports such linking.
[3]
FOREWORD
By the Editor of "The Bystander."
W

HEN Tommy went out to the great war, he wentsmiling, and singing the latest ditty of the halls. Theenemy scowled. War, said his professors of kulturand his hymnsters of hate, could never be waged in the Tipperaryspirit, and the nation that sent to the front soldiers who sang andlaughed must be the very decadent England they had all alongdenounced as unworthy of world-power.
I fear the enemy will be even more infuriated when he turnsover the pages of this book. In it the spirit of the British citizensoldier, who, hating war as hehated hell, flocked to thecolours to have his whack atthe apostles of blood and iron,is translated to cold and permanentprint. Here is thegreat war reduced to grim andgruesome absurdity. It is notfun poked by a mere looker-on,it is the fun felt in the war byone who has been through it.
CAPTAIN BRUCE BAIRNSFATHER.CAPTAIN BRUCE BAIRNSFATHER.
Captain Bruce Bairnsfatherhas stayed at that"farm" which is portrayed inthe double page of the book;[4]he has endured that shell-swept "'ole" that is depicted on the cover;he has watched the disappearance of that "blinkin' parapet" shownon one page; has had his hair cut under fire as shown on another.And having been through it all, he has just put down what he hasseen and heard and felt and smelt and—laughed at.
Captain Bairnsfather went to the front in no mood of a "chieltakin' notes." It was the notes that took him. Before the war,some time a regular soldier, some time an engineer, he had littleother idea than to sketch for mischief, on walls and shirt cuffs, andtablecloths. Without the war he might never have put pencil topaper for publication. But the war insisted.
It is not for his mere editor to forecast his vogue in posterity.Naturally I hope it will be a las                        
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