Evening star., 1918-03-31

ready for /. counter attack. It is a
miserable Job.
the tools are heavy and awkward.
ana the last waves get the cream of the
artillery fire, ~ the boche naturally
does not want to take the chance Of
shelling the first wave, for fear of get
ting his own men. However. the first
wave gsts the machine-gun fire. and
gats It good.
At that. the first wave is the prefer
enca I have heard hundreds of men
sAy %. Probably the reason is that q
bullet. unless 1t Is explosive. makes q
relatively clean wound, while shell
fragment may nangle fearfully.
Wells and I were talking over the in
fernal injustice of the situation when
another runner arrived from the SER
5eAnt majors, ordering US up for the
rum issue. I went up and left Wells to
break the news about going over.
went among the boys with a spoon
and the tonic in mess tin and served
one. After that all hands felt a little
better. but not much. They were all fag-
ged out after the weeks hard work.
don't think 1 ever saw more dis
For myself. didn't seem to care much.
I was in such rotten condition physi-
ca1ly. I rather hoped 1t would be my
last time.
A general cleaning of rifles started.
although 1t was dark. Mine was already
In good shape. and leaned it against
the side Of the trench and went below
Tor the rest OF my equipment. While
was gone a shell fragment undid all my
work by smashing the breech.
had seen a new. short German rife
IN the dugout. with a bayonet and
ammo. and decided to use that. I hid
all my souvenirs, planning to get them
when I came out-if ever came out I
hadn't much nerve left after the BASH
i9g had taken a fortnight before and
didn't hold much hope.
Our instructions were Of the brfefest
It was the old story-that there would
PROBABLY be little resistance, il any
There would be a few machine guns to
stop US. but nothing more. The situa-
tion we had to handle was this: A GER
tain small sector had held on the at
tacks OF the few previous days and the
line had bent back around it. All we
mad to do was to straighten the line
We had heard this old ghost story too
often to believe word of it.
Our place had been DESIGNATED where
we were to get into extended formation
and our general direction was clear. We
filed out of the trench at $3.50, and as we
passed the other platoons-we had been
to the rear-they tossed US the familiar
farewell hail. The best O. luck. mytie"
We soon found ourselves in the old
Sunken road that ran in front of Eau
cort Abhaye. At this point we were not
under observation. as a rise in the
ground would have protected US, even
thought had been daylight. The moon
was shining brilliantly, and we knew
that it would not be anything in the ma
ture Of a surprise attack. We got into
extended formation and waited for the
order to advance. I thought should go
crazy during that short wait. Shells
had begun to burst over and around us
and was sure the next would be mine,
Presently one burst a little behind me
and down went Capt. Green and the SER
geant major, with whom he had been talk
ing. Capt Green died a few DAYS later
at Rouen. and the sergeant major lost an
arm. This was a hard blow right at the
start, and it spelled disaster. Everything
started to go wrong.
Mr. Blofeld was in command and an
other officer thought that he was in charge.
We got conflicting orders and there was
one grand mix-up Eventually we ad-
vanced and went straight up over the ridge.
We walked slap-bang into perfectly di-
rected FIRE. Torrents of machine gun bull
let's cracked about US and we went for
ward with our heads down, like men fac
Ing into a storm. 1t was marvel that any
one could live through it.
A lot Of them didn't. Mr.. BIofeld, who
was near me. leaped in the air. letting go
a hideous yell ran to him, disregarding