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from a sap they have on that side. But we had been warned about that, and gave 'em gyp for it. We had a machine-gun trained on that sap-head of theirs, and plastered it pretty effectually, so quickly that I think we must have got their grenadiers. They shut up very promptly, anyhow, and a bombing patrol of ours that got to the edge of their sap half an hour later found not a creature there to bomb.
Our fire during the night was similar to theirs, but a bit less. "The Peacemaker" has a strong prejudice in favour of saving his ammunition for use on real live targets, and I think he's right. We had one man slightly wounded, and that's all. And I think that must be admitted to be pretty good, seeing that we were at work along the parapet all night. That is a specimen of a really quiet night.
At Stand-to this morning Fritz plastered our parapet very thoroughly with his machine-guns, evidently thinking we were Johnny Raws. He wasted hundreds of rounds of ammunition over this. We were all prepared. Not a head showed, and my best sniper, Corporal May, got one of their machine-gun observers neatly through the head. Our lines are only a hundred yards apart just there.
But I must turn in, old thing, or I'll get no rest to-day. I know I haven't told you about the look I had at the Boche trenches. But perhaps I'll have something better to tell when I next write.
Meantime, we are as jolly as sand-boys, and please remember that you need not be in the least anxious about your
"WHAT IT'S LIKE"
The wonder is, not that I didn't get the one post card you mention, but that you apparently have had everything I have written. Really, I do think the British postal arrangements out here are one of the most remarkable features of the war. The organisation behind our lines is quite extraordinary. Right up here in the firing line itself we get our letters and parcels every day. In the midst of a considerable bombardment I have seen fellows in artillery shelters in the line reading letters and opening parcels of little luxuries just received from home.
It's very nice of you to copy out my letters for friends at home to read. One simply can't hope to write to a number of different people, you know, because any spare time going one wants to use for sleep. I'm sorry I've omitted to tell you about some things I promised to explain, and must try to do better.
As to the time I saw into the Boche trenches while we were in for instruction, that was nothing really; due to my own stupidity, as a matter of fact, and I dare say that's why I said nothing about it. It was our second night in for instruction, and the Company we were with was sending out a small bombing patrol, so, of course, I asked if I could go too, and see what was to be seen. The O.C. of the Company very kindly let me go, and take with me Corporal Slade, of my platoon, an excellent chap, and very keen to learn. I wish he could have had a better teacher.
While close to the Boche wire our little party--only five, all told--sighted a Boche patrol quite twenty strong, and our officer in charge very properly gave the word to retire to a flank and get back to our own trench, or, rather, to a sap leading from it, so as to give warning of the Boche patrol. This was where, in my experience, I went wrong and led Slade astray. I was very curious, of course, to have a good look at the Boche patrol--the first I'd seen of the enemy in the open--and, like a fool, managed to get detached from the other three of our lot, Slade sticking close to me with a confidence I didn't deserve.
When I realised that the others were clean out of sight, and the Boche party too, I made tracks as quickly as I could--crawling, you know--as I believed for our line, cursing myself for not having a compass, a mistake you may be sure I shall not make again. Just then a regular firework display of flares went up from the Boche line, and they opened a hot burst of machine-gun fire. We lay as close as we could in the soggy grass, Slade and myself, and got no harm. Things were lively for a while, with lots of fire from both sides, and more light from both sides than was comfortable.
Later, when things had quietened down, we got on the move again, and presently, after a longish crawl through barbed wire, reached the parapet, and were just about to slide in, side by side, pretty glad to be back in the trench, when a fellow came round the traverse--we were just beside a traverse--growled something, and jabbed at Slade with his bayonet.
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