2nd Samuel KJV Audio Bible with Text

식약처 치약 제조업체 68개 전수조사 결과 발표 10개 업체 149개 제품 회수 조치

식약처 치약 제조업체 68개 전수조사 결과 발표 10개 업체 149개 제품 회수 조치

식약처 보 도 자 료
배   포
2016. 9. 30.(금)
담 당 과
바이오생약국 의약외품정책과
(☎043-719-3702)
과   장
안영진
(☎043-719-3701)
사 무 관
신경승
(☎043-719-3702)


국내 치약 제조업체 68개 전수조사 결과 발표
- 총 10개 업체 149개 제품 회수 조치 -

□ 식품의약품안전처(처장 손문기)는 국내 모든 치약 제조업체(68개소 3,679개 제품)에 대해 CMIT/MIT가 함유된 원료가 사용되었는지 여부를 조사한 결과, 아모레퍼시픽, 부광약품(주) 등 총 10개 업체(149개 제품)에서 해당 원료가 사용된 사실을 최종 확인하고 회수토록 하였으며, 해당 업체에 대해 행정처분할 예정이라고 밝혔다.
○ 이번 전수조사는 29일 정부관계부처 회의에서 CMIT/MIT 성분이 함유된 제품현황 조사방안과 조치계획 등이 논의된데 따른 후속조치로 국내 치약 제조업체를 직접 방문하여 CMIT/MIT가 혼입된 계면활성제가 사용되었는지 여부를 조사한 것이다.
 - 조사대상 총 3,679개 제품 3,523개는 적합하였으며, CMIT/MIT가 혼입된 원료를 사용한 치약은 아모레퍼시픽, 부광약품(주) 등 10개 업체가 판매하는 149개 제품이다.
 - 또한 이들 부적합한 제품들은 모두 미원상사의 CMIT/MIT 혼입 원료(계면활성제)를 직·간접적으로 구입하여 치약 제조에 사용한 것으로 조사되었다.
※ 회수되는 치약들의 경우 제조업체가 CMIT/MIT 성분을 치약 제조 시 직접 사용한 것이 아니라 미원상사로부터 공급받은 계면활성제에 CMIT/MIT가 혼입된 것을 인지하지 못하고 구매하여 사용한 것으로 파악됨
□ 이번에 회수 대상 149개 제품 중 CMIT/MIT 잔류량은 극미량으로 양치 등 치약 사용 시 삼키게 되는 경우를 고려하여도 안전에는 문제가 없는 것으로 판단된다.
○ 미국은 치약 등에 보존제로 CMIT/MIT가 자유롭게 사용되고 있으며 유럽 등 외국에서도 위해평가를 거쳐 현재 15ppm까지는 치약 제조 시 사용을 허용하고 있다.
□ 식약처는 의약외품이나 화장품에 CMIT/MIT 성분 사용기준을 준수했는지 여부를 지속 점검하여 국민안전이 최우선적으로 확보될 수 있도록 노력하겠다고 밝혔다.
○ 참고로 정부는 생활화학제품에 대해 전수조사를 실시 중이며, 특히 일상생활에서 자주 쓰이는 제품에 대해서는 금년말까지 우선적으로 조사를 실시하여 유해물질 사용실태를 파악, 위해가 우려되는 경우 해당제품에 대한 회수 및 제품명 공개 등을 추진해 나갈 계획이다.
   ※ 방향제, 방충제, 소독제, 방부제 등 위해우려제품 15종 등

〈첨부〉 업체별 부적합 제품 내역
첨부. 업체별 부적합 제품 내역(149개 제품, 가나다순)
연번
업체명
(품목수)
품목명
1
국보싸이언스(1)
송염고은단치약
2












금호덴탈제약(103)



















금호덴탈제약(103)






















금호덴탈제약(103)
구운돌활성치약
그레이멜린내추럴치약
그린폴리스치약
네츄럴휘바치약
녹키토플러스치약
뉴바이오덴타골드치약
뉴생그린화이트치약
뉴화인치약
닥터메디케어치약
더블브라이트투스폴리쉬치약
덴타화이트치약
덴탈케어녹키토플러스치약
덴탈프로라민치약
덴탈피엑스클리닉치약
덴티가드화이트
덴티허브치약
동백향미소치약
동의생치약
띵크유얼티스검케어치약
띵크유얼티스베드브레스케어치약
띵크유얼티스브라이트닝케어치약
띵크유얼티스치약
리턴투네이처치약
메디나잇치약
미랜셀레브탄탄치약
미소지은모닝이후레쉬치약
미소지은이후레쉬치약
미스틱포레스트치약
민티오션솔트치약
바이오덴타화이트치약
블랑시크릿더블브라이트닝케어치약
블랑시크릿시린케어치약(인산칼슘)
블랑시크릿잇몸케어치약
블랑시크릿프라그케어치약
사람사랑이사랑치약
산돌숲을담은치약
삼염치약
시너후레쉬플러스치약
시린맥스치약(인산칼슘)
씨젠감태치약
아이비프로폴리치약
아홉가지약속치약
안티시린치약(인산칼슘)
안티프라그네이처테라피치약
안티프라그한방오복초치약
알로덴트토탈케어치약
앤리홈덴탈케어치약
에디슨키드치약
에이지플러스치약
엔에스비겐치약
엔에스치약
예스닥터치약
예스브레쓰케어치약
오름비치약
오리팬플러스치약
오소덴치약
올인원밸런스치약
올인원에프치약
올인원피치약
이롬온가족비타허브덴탈케어치약
이밸런스치약
인성폴리스에스치약
인성폴리스치약
잇몸을부탁해치약
자일덴트궁중보감화은고치약(레드)
자일덴트에프후레쉬치약
자일덴트오리지널치약
자일덴트프로클리닉한방치약
자일리캐비티케어치약
적송원치약
캐릭터어린이치약(딸기향)
캐릭터어린이치약(포도향)
크리스탈검케어치약
크리스탈브레쓰케어치약
크리스탈시린이케어치약(인산칼슘)
크리스탈화이트케어치약
클리오구름빵주니어치약
클리오구름빵키즈치약(덴탈타입실리카)
클리오머털도사치약
클리오민티스치약(그린시트러스민트)
클리오민티스치약(로즈마리민트)
클리오민티스치약(스피아민트)
클리오민티스치약(자스민민트)
클리오치약
클리오플러스엠치약(덴탈타입실리카)
토크포유치약
트로피칼오션치약
티폴리스치약
파워킹치약
폴리렉스치약
퓨리티쓰리플러스치약
프로매스틱치약
프로폴리치약
프로폴리케어치약
프리미엄앨트크린센스에스치약
프리미엄앨트크린센스치약
프리미엄인성폴리스치약
홈플러스자일리브레쓰케어치약
홈플러스자일리케어치약
황실덴탈골드치약
효미이엠치약
후레쉬민트투스폴리쉬치약
흑치약
3
대구테크노파크(2)
디앤톡거품치약(박하향)
디앤톡거품치약(죽염향)
4
동국제약(4)
(금호덴탈제약 위탁제조)
덴탈프로젝트잇몸애치약
동국덴탈프로젝트치약
인사덴트닥터치약
인사덴트치약
5
부광약품(21)
부광안티프라그덴탈케어치약
부광안티프라그오리지널
부광안티프라그치약
부광안티프라그프리미엄치약
부광어린이치약
부광키즈조이치약멜론향
부광탁스치약
시린메드검케어민트
시린메드에스아쿠아블루치약
시린메드에스아쿠아화이트치약
시린메드에스캐비티클리닉샤인블루
시린메드에프치약
시린메드에프치약에델바이스향
시린메드에프치약유칼립투스향
시린메드에프치약재스민향
시린메드지센서티브케어
시린메드티치약백차향
시린메드티치약보이차향
시린메드티치약용정차향
안티프라그내츄럴그린치약
안티프라그캐비티클리닉치약
6
성원제약(3)
생활공작소치약
이온메디치약
이온스치약
7
시온합섬(1)
에소피니오피토알파치약
8
시지바이오(1)
(금호덴탈제약 위탁제조)
올인원화이트치약
9
아모레퍼시픽(12)
그린티스트치약
뉴송염오복잇몸치약
메디안바이탈액션치약
메디안바이탈에너지치약
메디안바이탈클린치약
메디안에이치프라그치약
메디안잇몸치약
메디안후레쉬마린치약
메디안후레쉬포레스트치약
본초연구잇몸치약
송염본소금잇몸시린이치약
송염청아단치약플러스
10
에스티씨나라(1)
라뮤닥터리솔트플러스치약

드라마 쇼핑왕 루이와 아궁이 불 화상흉터치료

드라마 쇼핑왕 루이와 아궁이 불 화상흉터치료

2016년 9월 28일 밤 10시에 방송된 MBC 수목드라마 '쇼핑왕 루이'(극본 오지영 연출 이상엽) 3회에는 교통사고로 기억을 잃은 루이(서인국)와 고복실(남지현)이 본격적으로 옥탑방에서 함께 사는 이야기가 그려졌다. 청소부 복실은 청소를 하던 중 건물에서 차중원(윤상현)을 만났고 툭 밀자 쓰러졌다. 영양실조로 병원에 간 복실에, 중원은 상황을 파악하고 안타까워했고 산삼값 400만원을 지불했다. 그는 "수수료 100만원 떼고 400만원이다"라고 말했고 돈 한 푼이 급한 복실은 그에게 '산삼의 은인'이라며 좋아했다.

월급과 산삼값을 받아 돈이 생긴 복실은 루이에게 "살림을 사러 가자"라며 시장 쇼핑을 했고 옷 쇼핑과 휴대폰 개통을 했다. 복실은 부르스타 불을 보며 신기해 했고 "난 아궁이에 불 때고 살았다"라고 말해 취준생이자 이들을 도와주러 나타난 오지라퍼 조인성(오대환)을 놀라게 했다.

백마리(임세미)의 부친 백선구(김규철)은 의뭉스러운 모습을 보였고, 앞서 루이의 교통사고를 낸 주범이라는 사실이 밝혀졌다. 백선구는 회장의 상속을 루이가 아닌 자신에게 돌리기 위한 방책으로 루이를 교통사고낸 것이었다.

루이와 복실은 마치 데이트를 하듯 서로에 의지하며 공동 생활을 시작했다. 루이는 "나만 믿어"라며 믿음직스럽진 않지만 대책없이 자신을 믿으라고 말했고 복실은 그런 루이에게 환한 미소를 지어주며 달달한 기류를 형성했다.

중원은 복실을 자신의 팀 일원 1달 간 일하라고 말했고 복실은 인터넷조차 할 줄 모르는 터라 당혹감을 감추지 못했다. 이어 엘리베이터로 뛰어들어온 복실과 기습 포옹을 하게 된 중원은 심장 박동소리를 느꼈다.

 

산골에서 살 때 아궁이에 불을 때고 살았다고 고복실은 말했다. 필자는 아궁이 불 하면 아주 어렸을때 생각이 나긴 한다. 필자가 진료하는 www.imagediet.co.kr 이미지 피부과 한의원에서는 유아기때 아궁이에 들어가 엉덩이 부분에 불에 데여 화상을 입어 내원한 환우가 있다. 직접 불에 데인 화상은 끓는물등보다 화상흉터가 심할 수 있지만 이미지 피부과 한의원의 화상흉터침인 BT침으로 치료가 가능하다.

1. http://www.instagram.com/treatscar.01086326138[2]
2. http://www.twitter.com/treatscar[2]

유기성 목사 - 감사가 나오면 산다

드라마 질투의 화신 우윳빛깔과 백색 튼살 치료

드라마 질투의 화신 우윳빛깔과 백색 튼살 치료

2016년 9월 29일 밤 10시에 방송된 SBS 수목드라마 '질투의 화신' 12회에서는 표나리(공효진 분)를 잊으려 애쓰는 이화신(조정석)의 모습이 그려졌다.

갯벌에서 몸싸움 후 이화신을 질질 끌고 온 고정원(고경표). 고정원은 표나리에게 "내가 좋아. 얘가 좋아"라고 물었다. 하지만 표나리는 두 사람 때문에 자신이 하루종일 잡은 낙지가 없어지자 분노했다. 하지만 고정원은 포기하지 않고 "유치한 질문이지만 내가 좋아? 화신이가 좋?아"라고 다시 물었다. 그러자 표나리는 "지금 그게 문제에요? 둘 다 보기 싫어"라고 말한 후 두 사람에게 끌려갔다.

고정원과 표나리는 샤워기로 총겨누며 손들어 놀이도 하며 갯벌 진흙을 씻어주며 달달한 시간을 보냈지만, 이화신은 고열에 시달렸다. 표나리가 이화신을 데리고 응급실로 향했다. 표나리는 자꾸 담요를 거부하는 이화신을 안으며 담요를 덮어주었다. 이화신은 자신을 걱정해주는 표나리에게 "너 나한테 왜 이렇게 잘해주냐"라고 물었다. 이에 표나리는 "아프잖아요. 그것도 혼자. 불쌍하잖아요"라고 답했다. 자신이 동정받는단 생각에 이화신은 그 길로 서울로 떠났다. 앵커 오디션 일정이 나왔다. 이화신은 홍혜원(서지혜)과 연습을 시작했고, 표나리가 아나운서에 지원했단 사실이 알려졌다.

표나리는 자신을 무시한 이화신에게 툴툴댔지만, 이화신은 고정원의 생일이라고 알려주었다. 이에 표나리는 이화신과 함께 고정원의 생일상을 상의했다. “진밥을 좋아하는지 짠 것을 좋아하는지 미역국은 고깃국인지 해산물인지, 쥐눈이콩을 좋아한다고 말하였다.” 그런 표나리를 보며 자기도 모르게 "네가 밥해주면 정말 좋겠다"라고 진심을 말했지만 표나리는 홍혜원과 이화신을 응원했다.

고민 끝에 이화신을 찾아온 고정원은 함께 어색하게 술을 슈퍼에서 마시며 소주 한 박스를 주문했다. 취한 두 사람은 허심탄회하게 갯벌 싸움에 대해 이야기했다. 고정원은 술이 달다는 이화신에게 뽀뽀를 했다. 두 사람은 계성숙(이미숙)에게 안주를 시켜달라고 뽀뽀를 하고, 방자영(박지영)에게도 양쪽에서 뽀뽀 세례를 했다.

표나리가 등장하자 이화신은 동네에서 가장 못생긴 사람이 온다고 빈정대었지만 고정원은 동네에서 가장 예쁜 사람이라고 말하며 두 사람은 '우윳빛깔 표나리'를 외쳤다. 표나리는 술 마신 이화신을 걱정했다. 고정원은 표나리가 생일상을 차려준단 말을 듣고, 이화신에게 함께 가자고 말했다. 두 사람이 화장실을 간 사이 표나리는 아이를 따라 이화신의 방으로 들어가게 됐다. 벽에 붙어있는 그림엔 '사랑해요 표나리'가 적혀 있었다. 이화신의 글씨도 있었다.

 

KBS 2TV <해피선데이-1박2일>에서는 방송 초반에 2008년 12월 27일 생방송으로 진행된 ‘2008 KBS 연예대상’ 뒷이야기를 전했다.

방송에서는 1박 2일 멤버 이수근·이승기·강호동 등의 수상 장면과 ‘무조건’ 축하공연 모습과 함께 백지영이 공연 중 실수를 저지르게 한 주범(?)인 열혈팬 은지원과 MC몽의 모습을 담았다.

2부 축하공연에서 백지영이 애절한 발라드곡 ‘총맞은 것처럼’을 열창하고 있던 중 무대 앞자리에 앉아 있던 ‘1박 2일’ 팀 은지원이 먼저 “사랑해요 백지영”을 외치자 김C 마저도 은지원의 열혈 응원에 합세했다. 이어 MC몽도 가세해 은지원과 함께 “우윳빛깔 백지영”을 외치자 백지영은 결국 참았던 웃음을 터뜨려 잠시 노래가 중단되고 죄송하다고 사과를 한 후 간신히 노래를 마쳤다. 노래가 끝나자 백지영은 이에 대한 복수로 ‘1박2일’ 팀을 향해 손가락으로 총을 쏘는 듯한 포즈를 취한 후 미소로 응원에 대한 감사의 뜻을 표했다.

 

우윳빛깔이라고 하는 것은 타인이 흰색 피부의 미모에 예쁘다고 응원을 해주는 것이다. 그런데 우유는 사실 동양인에게 유당불내증을 일으켜 좋지 않고, 인터넷을 보면 암도 유발하고 면역학적인 문제, 장누수증후군등 여러가지 우유에 대한 진실의 음모론이 있다. 필자가 보기에도 우유나 유제품을 많이 마셔서 피부가 나빠지는 사람을 경험상 많이 봤으며 필자도 요구르트를 자주 먹어 과민성 장증후군 증상을 앓은 적이 있다.

아무튼 흰우유는 마시면 피부가 백옥처럼 뽀얗게 되리란 환상을 심어주지만 그 겉모습만을 보고 판단하면 안된다.

피부에 생기는 흰색 튼살도 마찬가지인데 백색 띠 모양 무늬도 사실 미백이 아니라 주위 피부와 조화를 깨므로 해롭게 된다. 이미지 피부과 한의원 원장은 흰색 튼살 때문에 수영장이나 목욕탕도 못가는 환자를 많이 보는데 모두 이미지 피부과 한의원의 튼살침인 ST침으로 치료할 수 있다

In The Firing Line 20

In The Firing Line 20

“I have been in the thick of it,” he said; “in the very thick of it. I

was one of the chauffeurs in the service of the British General Staff.”

 

He told me that he was not a Regular soldier, but a volunteer from the

Automobile Club, an American who had become a naturalised English

citizen, and had once been a journalist. His own injury, a burnt arm,

was from a back-fire, but his escape from the German bullets had been

almost miraculous. Three staff officers, one after another, had been

hit in the body of the car behind him. This is his story:

 

“On Friday, the 25th, the British were just outside Le Cateau. On

Saturday morning the approach of the Germans in force was signalled. On

Sunday morning at daybreak a German aeroplane flew over our lines, and,

although fired at by the aeroplane gun mounted in the car, and received

with volleys from the troops, managed to rejoin its lines. Twenty

minutes later the German artillery opened fire with accuracy. The

aeroplane, as so often, had done its work as range-finder. For twelve

hours the cannonade went on. Then the British forces retreated six

miles. On Monday morning the bombardment began again, and at two that

afternoon the German forces entered Le Cateau from which the English

had retired. Many of the houses were in flames. The Germans, who had

ruthlessly bayonetted our wounded if they moved so much as a finger as

they lay on the ground, were guilty of brutal conduct when they entered

the city.

 

“On Tuesday, the British, who had retired to Landrecies, were again

attacked by the Germans. They believed, wrongly, that on their right

was a supporting French force. The range was again found by aeroplane,

and the British were compelled to evacuate. That was on Tuesday. The

British troops had been fighting steadily for four days, but their

morale and their spirits had not suffered.”

 

As I write, a detachment of the R.A.M.C. is filing past, and people

have risen from their chairs and are cheering and saluting. Half an

hour ago Engineers passed with their pontoons decorated with flowers

and greenery. The men had flowers in their caps, and even the horses

were flower-decked. Tommy Atkins has the completest faith in his

leaders and in himself. He quite realises the necessity for secrecy of

operations in modern warfare. Of course, he has his own theories. This

is one of them textually:

 

“The Germans are simply walking into it. Of course, we have had losses,

but that was part of the plan--the sprat to catch the whale. They are

going to find themselves in a square between four allied armies, and

then,”--so far Private X., but here Private Y. broke in cheerfully:

“And then they will be electrocuted.”

 

 

And at this moment it begins to look as if--apart from that detail

of the square of four armies--Privates X. and Y. had known what they

were talking about; for some few days ago the great retreat came to an

abrupt end, the British and French forces carrying out General Joffre’s

carefully laid plan of campaign, turned their defensive movement into

a combined attack, the Germans fell back before them and are still

retiring. They marched through Belgium into France with heavy fighting

and appalling losses, only to be held in check at the right place and

time and beaten back by the road they had come, when Paris seemed

almost at their mercy. But that retirement is another story.

 

 

 

 

VI

 

THE SPIRIT OF VICTORY

 

“_He only knows that not through_ HIM

_Shall England come to shame_.”

 

SIR F. H. DOYLE.

 

 

Even through those three weeks when they were retreating before the

enemy, the whole spirit of the British troops was the spirit of men

who are fighting to win. There is no hint of doubt or despondency in

any of their letters home. They talk lightly of their hardest, most

terrible experiences; they greet the unseen with a cheer; you hear of

them cracking jokes, boyishly guying each other, singing songs as they

march and as they lie in the trenches with shells bursting and shots

screaming close over their heads. They carried out their retreats

grudgingly, but without dismay, in the fixed confidence that their

leaders knew what they were after, and that in due time they would find

they had only been stooping to conquer. “They won’t let us have a fair

smack at them,” says “Spratty,” of the Army Service Corps, in a letter

home. “I have never seen such a sight before. God knows whose turn is

next, but we shall win, don’t worry.” This is the watchword of them

all: “Don’t worry--we shall win.”

 

“Wine is offered us instead of water by the people,” wrote Private S.

Browne, whilst his regiment was marching through France to the front;

“but officers and men are refusing it. Some of the hardest drinkers in

the regiment have signed the pledge for the war.”

 

“Tommy goes into battle,” a French soldier told a reporter at Dieppe,

“singing some song about Tip-Tip-Tip-Tipperary, and when he is hit he

does not cry out. He just says ‘blast,’ and if the wound is a small one

he asks the man next to him to tie a tourniquet round it and settles

down to fighting again.” A corporal of the Black Watch explained to a

hospital visitor, “It was a terrible bit of work. The Germans were as

thick as Hielan’ heather, and by sheer weight forced us back step by

step. But until the order came not a living man flinched. In the thick

of the bursting shells we were singing Harry Lauder’s latest.”

 

Trooper George Pritchard wrote to his mother from Netley Hospital the

other day: “I got hit in the arm from a shell. Seven of our officers

got killed last Thursday, but Captain Grenfell was saved at the same

time as me. What do you think of the charge of the 9th? It is worth

getting hit for.”

 

“We are all in good heart, and ready for the next round whenever it may

come,” writes Private J. Scott, from his place in the field; and “South

Africa was child’s play to what we have been through,” writes Corporal

Brogan, “but we are beginning to feel our feet now, and are equal to a

lot more gruelling.”

 

“We are all beat up after four days of the hardest soldiering you ever

dreamt of,” Private Patrick McGlade says in a letter to his mother. “I

am glad to say we accounted for our share of the Germans. We tried hard

to get at them many a time, but they never would wait for us when they

saw the bright bits of steel at the business end of our rifles. Some

of them squeal like the pigs on killing day when they see the steel

ready. Some of our finest lads are now sleeping their last sleep in

Belgium, but, mother dear, you can take your son’s word for it that

for every son of Ireland who will never come back there are at least

three Germans who will never be heard of again. When we got here we

sang ‘Paddies Evermore,’ and then we were off to chapel to pray for the

souls of the lads that are gone.”

 

“Some of us feel very strongly about being sent home for scratches

that will heal,” writes Corporal A. Hands. “Don’t believe half the

stories about our hardships. I haven’t seen or heard of a man who made

complaint of anything. You can’t expect a six-course dinner on active

service, but we get plenty to fight on.”

 

Cases of personal pluck were so common that we soon ceased to take

notice of them, a wounded driver in the Royal Artillery told an

interviewer. “There was a man of the Buffs, who carried a wounded chum

for over a mile under German fire, but if you suggested a Victoria

Cross for that man he would punch your head, and as he is a regular

devil when roused the men say as little as they can about it. He thinks

he didn’t do anything out of the common, and doesn’t see why his name

should be dragged into the papers over it. Another case I heard of was

a corporal of the Fusilier Brigade--I don’t know his regiment--who

held a company of Germans at bay for two hours by the old trick of

firing at them from different points, and so making them think they had

a crowd to face. He was getting on very well until a party of cavalry

outflanked him, as you might say, and as they were right on top of him

there was no kidding about his ‘strength,’ so he skedaddled, and the

Germans took the position he had held so long. He got back to his mates

all right, and they were glad to see him, for they had given him up for

dead.”

 

“No regiment fought harder than we did, and no regiment has better

officers, who went shoulder to shoulder with their men,” says a

non-commissioned officer of the Buffs, writing from hospital, “but you

can’t expect absolute impossibilities to be accomplished, no matter how

brave the boys are, when you are fighting a force from twenty to thirty

times as strong. If some of you at home who have spoken sneeringly of

British officers could have seen how they handled their men and shirked

nothing you would be ashamed of yourselves. We are all determined when

fit again to return and get our own back.”

 

Everywhere you find that the one cry of the soldiers who are invalided

home--they are impatient to be cured quickly and get back “to have

another slap at them.” We know how our women here at home share that

eager enthusiasm in this the most righteous war Britain has ever gone

into; and isn’t there something that stirs you like the sound of a

trumpet in such a passage as this from the letter a Scottish nun living

in Belgium has written to her mother?

 

 

“I am glad England is aroused, and that the British lion is out with

all his teeth showing. Here these little lions of Belgians are raging

mad and doing glorious things.

 

“Tell father I am cheery, and feel sometimes far too warlike for a nun.

That’s my Scottish blood. I hope to goodness the Highlanders, if they

come, will march down another street on their way to the caserne, or I

shall shout and yell and cheer them, and forget I mustn’t look out of

the window.”

 

 

An extract from Sergeant T. Cahill’s letter to his friends at Bristol

gives you a snap-shot of our women in the firing line, and of the

fearless jollity and light-heartedness with which our Irish comrades

meet the worst that their enemies can do:

 

“The Red Cross girleens, with their purty faces and their sweet ways,

are as good men as most of us, and better than some of us. They are not

supposed to venture into the firing line at all, but they get there all

the same, and devil the one of us durst turn them away,” and he goes on

casually, “Mick Clancy is that droll with his larking and bamboozling

the Germans that he makes us nearly split our sides laughing at him

and his ways. Yesterday he got a stick and put a cap on it so that it

peeped above the trenches just like a man, and then the Germans kept

shooting away at it until they must have used up tons of ammunition,

and there was us all the time laughing at them.”

 

But I think there is perhaps nothing in these letters that is more

touching or more finely significant than this:

 

“The other day I stopped to assist a young lad of the West Kents, who

had been badly hit by a piece of shell,” writes Corporal Sam Haslett.

“He hadn’t long to live, and knew it, but he wasn’t at all put out

about it. I asked him if there was any message I could take to any one

at home, and the poor lad’s eyes filled with tears as he answered: ‘I

ran away from home and ’listed a year ago. Mother and dad don’t know

I’m here, but you tell them that I’m not sorry I did it.’ When I told

our boys afterwards, they cried like babies, but, mind you, that’s the

spirit that’s going to pull England through this war. I got his name

and the address of his people from his regiment, and I am writing to

tell them that they have every reason to be proud of their lad. He may

have run away from home, but he didn’t run away from the Germans.”

 

And if you have caught the buoyant, heroic ardour that rings through

those careless, unstudied notes our gallant fellows have written home,

you know that there is not a man in the firing line who will.

In The Firing Line 19

In The Firing Line 19

It was, however, no time for sentiment, for gallopers soon brought the

news that the enemy was advancing, and that a cavalry attack might be

expected at any moment. Infantry had entrenched themselves along our

front, and there was a strong body posted on our flanks and rear. These

became engaged first with a large body of Uhlans, who endeavoured to

take them by surprise, the front rank rushing forward with the lance

and the rear using the sword.

 

We were on slightly higher ground, and could see the combat, which

appeared to be going in our favour. Our men stuck to their ground and

shot and bayonetted the Uhlans, who, after ten minutes’ fight, made

off, but, sad to say, a dreadful fusilade of shrapnel and Maxim fire

followed immediately, and our guns also came under fire. To this we

readily replied, and must have done some execution, especially to the

large masses of infantry that were advancing about a mile away.

 

We got a favourable “bracket” at once, so our Major said, and we worked

our guns for all we were worth, altering fuses and the ranging of our

guns as the Germans came nearer. Shells fell fast around us, some

ricocheted, and passed overhead without bursting, ploughing the ground

up in our rear, but not a few exploded, and made many casualties. Three

of my gun detachment fell with shrapnel bullets, but still we kept the

guns going, the officers giving a hand.

 

At one time we came under the fire of the enemy’s machine guns, but two

of our 18-pounders put them out of action after a few rounds. The order

came at length to retire so as to get a more favourable position, but

our drivers failed to bring back all the gun teams, only sufficient

to horse four of the guns. The remainder of the animals had been

terribly mutilated. These were limbered up, the remainder being for a

time protected by the infantry. The Gordons and Middlesex were in the

shelter trenches on our left, and the latter regiment was said at one

time to be almost overwhelmed, but aid came, and the masses of Prussian

infantry were beaten off.

 

Still, there was terrible slaughter on both sides, and the dead lay in

long burrows on the turf. We should have lost our guns to the Uhlans if

the infantry had not persevered with the rifle, picking off the cavalry

at 800 yards.

 

It was grand shooting. In the afternoon we slackened fire, as also did

the Germans; in fact, we did but little from our new gun positions, as

we were destined to cover the retreat of the infantry later on.

 

As the wounded were brought to the rear we heard of the deeds of

heroism from the men of the Royal Army Medical Corps in the fighting

line--how an officer stood over the body of a private who had

previously saved his life until he had spent his last shot from his

revolver, and then fell seriously wounded, to be avenged the next

moment by a burly sergeant who plunged his bayonet into the Prussian.

 

In the ranks of the South Lancashire Regiment, from what has been

heard, many deserve the Distinguished Conduct Medal, if not the V.C.,

for the manner in which they charged masses of German infantry through

the village to our front. Uhlans got round behind them, but they did

not flinch, although serious gaps were made in their ranks.

 

A non-commissioned officer of the Medicals related how he saw a party

of Fusiliers rush to the aid of their Maxim gun party when Uhlans swept

down on them from behind a wood. They accounted for over twenty and

lost but one man.

 

At night we were ordered to move on again, and we marched south-west

in the direction of ----, covering twenty miles in the darkness. Our

unhorsed guns were got through by splitting up our teams, and with the

help of the brawny arms of the infantry.

 

The enemy were aware of our retreat, and kept up an incessant fire,

bringing searchlights to the aid of their gunners. The moon slightly

favoured us, and, with the help of local guides, we found our way. I

heard of the brilliant work performed by our battalions, who kept the

enemy at bay whilst we withdrew all our vehicles, and we gunners felt

proud of them. They kept the enemy busy by counter-attack, and made it

impossible to get round us.

 

Next morning the enemy were again in the field endeavouring to force

our left flank. Field-Marshal Sir John French, whom we saw early in the

day, was, however, equal to the occasion, and so manœuvred his troops

that we occupied a position from which the Germans could not dislodge

us. The artillery kept up long-range fire, and that is how I received

my wound. Within a few minutes first aid was rendered, and I was put

in an ambulance and taken off with other wounded to a field hospital,

where I met with every attention.

 

 

IN HOSPITAL.

 

(2) _At the London Hospital._

 

By a _Daily Telegraph_ correspondent.

 

A description of a thrilling fight in the air, which had a dramatic

climax, was given to Queen Alexandra when her Majesty paid a visit to

the London Hospital.

 

Among the wounded soldiers there is a private of the Royal Engineers,

who was himself witness of the incident.

 

He said that following a very hard fight on the day before, he was

lying on the ground with his regiment, resting. Suddenly a German

aeroplane hove in sight. It flew right over the British troops, and

commenced to signal their position to the German camp.

 

A minute later, amid intense excitement of the troops, two aeroplanes,

with English and French pilots, rose into the air from the British

rear. Ascending with great rapidity, they made for the German

aeroplane, with the intention of attacking it.

 

At first some of our men, who were very much on the alert, fired by

mistake at the French aeroplane. Luckily, their shots went wide.

 

Then the troops lay still, and with breathless interest watched

the attempts of the French and British aviators to outmanœuvre

their opponent, and to cut off his retreat. After a little time the

Franco-British airmen abandoned this attempt, and then the Englishman

and the German began to fly upwards, in the evident desire to obtain

a more favourable position for shooting down from above. Owing to the

protection afforded by the machine, it would have been of little use

for one aviator to fire at his opponent from below. Once a higher

altitude was attained, the opportunity for effective aim would be much

greater.

 

Up and up circled the two airmen, till their machines could barely be

distinguished from the ground. They were almost out of sight when the

soldiers saw that the British aviator was above his opponent. Then

the faint sound of a shot came down from the sky, and instantly the

German aeroplane began to descend, vol-planing in graceful fashion.

Apparently it was under the most perfect control. On reaching the earth

the machine landed with no great shock, ran a short distance along the

ground, and then stopped.

 

Rushing to the spot, the British soldiers found, to their amazement,

that the pilot was dead. So fortunate had been the aim of the

Englishman that he had shot the German through the head. In his dying

moments the latter had started to descend, and when he reached the

earth his hands still firmly gripped the controls.

 

The aeroplane was absolutely undamaged, and was appropriated by the

British aviators.

 

 

IN HOSPITAL.

 

(3) _From a “Daily Telegraph” correspondent at Rouen_:

 

It was known that there were British wounded in Rouen--I had even

spoken to one of them in the streets--but how was one to see them? The

police commissaire sent me to his central colleague, who sent me on to

the état major, who was anxious to send me back to him, but finally

suggested that I should see the military commissary at one of the

stations. He was courteous, but very firm--the authorisation I asked

for could not be, and was not, granted to anyone. At the headquarters

of the British General Staff the same answer in even less ambiguous

terms.

 

It was then that Privates X., Y., Z. came to my aid. Private Z. had a

request to make of me. It was that I should see to it that the black

retriever of his regiment now at the front should be photographed, and

that the photograph should appear in _The Daily Telegraph_. Private

Z. had a temperature of 102·5, and looked it, but he was not worrying

about that. He was worrying about the photograph of the regimental

retriever, which I understood him to say, though dates make it almost

incredible, had gone through the Boer campaign, and had not yet had his

photograph in the papers. So I met by appointment Privates X., Y., and

Z. outside the Hospice Général of Rouen, and by them was franked in to

the hospital, where a few dozen of our wounded were sunning themselves.

It was just time, and no more, as orders had been received a few

minutes before that the British wounded were to be transferred from

Rouen to London, for something grave was afoot.

 

“Do you want to get back to England?” someone called out to a soldier

whose arm was in a sling, and the whole sleeve of whose jacket had been

ripped by the fragment of a shell.

 

“Not I,” he shouted; “I want to go to the front again and get my sleeve

back, and something more.”

 

I managed to speak with two or three of the wounded as they were

getting ready for the start. One of them, an artilleryman, had been

injured by his horses falling on him at Ligny, I guessed it was--only

guessed, for Tommy charges a French word as bravely and much less

successfully than he charges the enemy. It was the same story that one

hears from all, of a heroic struggle against overwhelming odds. “They

were ten to one against us, in my opinion,” he said. “They were all

over us. Their artillery found the range by means of aeroplanes. The

shell fire was terrible.”

 

He says that it was very accurate, but that fortunately the quality of

the shells is not up to that of the shooting. My informant’s division

held out for twenty-four hours against the overwhelming odds. Then,

when the Germans had managed to get a battery into action behind, they

retired during the night of Wednesday, steadily and in excellent order,

keeping the German pursuit at bay. The next man I spoke to really spoke

to me. He was anxious to tell his story.

In The Firing Line 18

In The Firing Line 18

That’s the Germans all over, to “kid” themselves into the belief that

they have got a soft thing, and then when they find it’s too hard, to

run away from it. Our lads have made up their minds to give them no

rest once we get on to them, and they’ll get as much of the British

Army as they can stand, and maybe a little more. The French are greatly

pleased with the show we made in the field, and are in much better

spirits than they were.

 

* * * * *

 

_Letter 78.--From a Non-commissioned Officer of Dragoons:_

 

All our men--in fact, the whole British Army--are as fit as a fiddle,

and the lads are as keen as mustard. There is no holding them back. At

Mons we were under General Chetwode, and horses and men positively flew

at the Germans, cutting through much heavier mounts and heavier men

than ours. The yelling and the dash of the Lancers and Dragoon Guards

was a thing never to be forgotten. We lost very heavily at Mons, and

it is a marvel how some of our fellows pulled through and positively

frightened the enemy. We did some terrible execution, and our wrists

were feeling the strain of heavy riding before sunset. With our tunics

unbuttoned, we had the full use of our right arm for attack and defence.

 

After Mons I went with a small party scouting, and we again engaged

about twenty cavalry, cut off from their main body. We killed nine,

wounded six, and gave chase to the remaining five, who, in rejoining

their unit, nearly were the means of trapping us. However, our men

dispersed and hid in a wood until they fell in with a squadron of the

----, and so reached camp in safety. After that a smart young corporal

accompanied me to reconnoitre, and we went too far ahead, and were

cut off in a part of the country thick with Uhlans. As we rode in the

direction of ---- two wounded men were limping along, both with legs

damaged, one from the Middlesex and the other Lancashire Fusiliers, and

so we took them up.

 

Corporal Watherston took one behind his saddle and I took the other.

The men were hungry, and tattered to shreds with fighting, but in fine

spirits. We soon came across a small village, and I found the curé a

grand sportsman and full of pluck and hospitality. He seemed charmed

to find a friend who was English, and told me that the Germans were

dressed in the uniforms of British soldiers, which they took from the

dead and from prisoners in order to deceive French villagers, who in

many places in that district had welcomed these wolves in sheep’s

clothing. We were warned that the enemy would be sure to track us up

to the village. The curé said he could hide the two wounded men in the

crypt of his church and put up beds for them. It has a secret trapdoor,

and was an ancient treasure-house of a feudal lord, whose castle we saw

in ruins at the top of the hill close by.

 

Then he hid away our saddlery and uniforms in the roof of a barn, and

insisted upon our making a rest-chamber of the tower of his church,

which was approached by a ladder, which we were to pull up to the

belfry as soon as we got there. He smuggled in wine and meat and bread

and cakes, fruit and cigarettes, with plenty of bedding pulled up by

a rope. We slept soundly, and the owls seemed the only other tenants,

who resented our intrusion. No troops passed through the village that

night. In the morning the curé came round at six o’clock, and we heard

him say Mass. After that we let down the ladder, and he came up with

delicious hot chocolate and a basket of rolls and butter.

 

Our horses he had placed in different stables a mile apart, and put

French “fittings” on them, so as to deceive the enemy. He thinks we are

well away from the main body of the German army moving in the direction

of Paris, but will not hear of our leaving here for at least three

days. But I cried, “Curé, we are deserters!” The old man wept and said,

“Deserters, no, no--saviours, saviours; you have rescued France from

the torments of slavery.”

 

However, we have now secured complete disguises as French

cultivateurs--baggy corderoy trousers, blue shirts, boots, stockings,

belt, hat, cravat, everything to match--and as we have not shaved for

two weeks, and are bronzed with the sun, I think that the corporal and

myself can pass anywhere as French peasants, if only he will leave all

the talking to me.

 

The two wounded soldiers don’t wish us to leave them, because I am

interpreter, and not a soul speaks English in the village. So we have

explained to the curé that we shall stay here until our comrades

are able to walk, and then the party of four will push our way out

somewhere on horseback and get to the coast. The sacristan at once

offered to be our guide, and it is arranged that we take a carrier’s

wagon which travels in this district and drive our own horses in it,

and pick up two additional mounts at a larger village on the way to the

coast.

 

We must get back as soon as ever we can. Nothing could be kinder than

the people here, but this is not what we came to France for, and

hanging about in a French village is not exactly what a soldier calls

“cricket.”

 

You cannot imagine how complete the Germans are in the matter of rapid

transport. Large automobiles, such as the railway companies have for

towns round Harrogate and Scarborough, built like char-à-bancs, carry

the soldiers in batches of fifty, so that they are as fresh as paint

when they get to the front. But in point of numbers I think one of our

side is a fair match for four of the enemy. I hope that the British

public are beginning to understand what this war means. The German is

not a toy terrier, but a bloodhound absolutely thirsty for blood.

 

* * * * *

 

_Letter 79.--From Private Tom Savage, to his relatives at Larne:_

 

At Sea.

 

Just a line to let you know that we are landing outside ----. They

kept us without any knowledge of how and where we were going till the

last moment. I am quite well and extra specially fit. It is good fun

on a troopship, and we are going to have a nice little holiday on the

Continent. I’ll be able to “swank French” when I come back. I’ll write

a good long letter when I settle down. I’m writing this at tea time

just before we land. I have got two very nice chums, Jack Wright, the

footballer, who has seen service before, and Billy Caughey, both of

Belfast.

 

 

In France.

 

I am writing this note while on outpost duty. I can’t say where we are,

or anything like that, but I am in the best of health and enjoying

the life. I am getting a fine hand at French. There is plenty of food

and the people are all very nice. It’s great fun trying to understand

them. Plenty of fruit here, pears and apples galore, and as for bread

big long rolls and rings of it, and all very cheap. When you happen

to be riding through a town the people give you cigarettes, fruit,

chocolates, and cider.

 

If you are all extra good I’ll bring you home a pet German. How is Home

Rule getting on? Send me a paper, but I don’t know when I’ll get it or

you’ll get this. I suppose the papers are full of this ruction. I can

write no more as I’ll soon have to go on guard.

 

* * * * *

 

_Letter 80.--From Mons. E. Hovelange, of Paris, written on August

30th, to Sir William Collins_ (_Published in the “Sussex Daily

News”_):

 

How serious the situation is here it is hard for you to realize in

London. We may be encircled at any moment by these hordes of savages.

Such murderous cruelty has never been seen in the annals of war. The

Turks and the Bulgarians were no worse. It is the rule to fire on

ambulances and slaughter the wounded. I know it from eye-witnesses. The

Germans are drunk with savagery. It is an orgy of the basest cruelty.

They are rushing Paris at all costs, squandering their men recklessly

in overwhelming numbers. Our troops are submerged and can only retreat,

fighting desperately, but the spirit of our soldiers is splendid.

All the wounded I have seen laugh and joke over their wounds and are

burning to have another go at the barbarians. Victory is certain. But

what disastrous changes shall we know before it comes. I am prepared

for the worst--another month of hopeless struggle perhaps. But we will

light to the last man. The tide will turn, and then--woe to them. I

know you will stand by us in the cause of civilization, common honest

truth till the bitter end. But if you want to help us you must hasten.

 

* * * * *

 

_Letter 81.--From a young officer who has been through the whole

campaign, from the landing of the British at Boulogne:_

 

I wish you would try to make the people in England understand that

they should be most exceedingly thankful that they are living on an

island and not in the midst of the dreadful things which are happening

on the Continent. Do enforce upon the public that England must fight

this thing out, and must conquer even if it has to spend the blood

of its young men like water. It will be far better that every family

throughout England should have to sorrow for one of its members than

that England should have to go through similar ordeals to those which

Continental countries are suffering.

 

The sight of old women and men fleeing from village to village; young

mothers with babies in arms, with their few personal effects on their

backs, or in some more fortunate cases with their goods and chattels

surrounding the aged grandmother stowed away in an old farm cart, drawn

by a nag too venerable to be of service to the State; this is what one

has seen daily. Picture to yourself our night marches with the burning

villages on all sides set fire to by German shells--and the Germans

have been rather careless whether their shells struck fortified and

defended positions, or open ones. In some cases the fires were caused

intentionally by marauding patrols.

 

Do not imagine that things are not going well with us. We are all

satisfied and confident of the end; but at the same time the only

possible end can be gained by sacrifice on the part of those at home

only. All is well with me personally; I have a busy time, but it is

most interesting work.

 

 

IN HOSPITAL.

 

(1) _At Salisbury._

 

A non-commissioned officer of the Royal Field Artillery, invalided home

with shrapnel wounds in the thigh, from which he hopes soon to recover,

has given this vivid description of his experiences at the front after

passing north of Amiens, to a _Daily Telegraph_ correspondent:

 

 

Pushing forward from our rest camp, covering from twenty to thirty

miles a day, with the infantry marching in front and cavalry protecting

us on either flank, we received information that we were within a few

hours’ march of the enemy. Needless to say, this put us on the alert.

There was no funk about us, for we were all anxious to have a go at the

Germans, about whom we had heard such tales of cruelty that it made our

blood run cold.

 

Our orders were to load with case shot, for fear of cavalry attack, as

shrapnel is of little use against mounted troops. The order was soon

obeyed, and after passing the day on the road, we moved across country

north of ----, where the infantry took up a strong position. We saw the

French troops on our right as we moved up to gun positions which our

battery commanders had selected in advance. It was Sunday morning when

the attack came, and the sun had already lit up the beautiful country,

and as I looked across at the villages which lay below in the valley

with their silent belfries I thought of my home on the Cotswolds and

of the bells ringing for morning service. I pictured dad and my sister Nell going to church.