Each stand-to lasts for an hour, but once in a fog we
stood for half a day.
The dawn crept slowly up the sky, the firing on the left redoubled in
intensity, but we could not now see the flashes from the rifles. The
last star-rocket rose from the enemy's trench, hung bright in mid-air
for a space, and faded away. The stretch of ground between the
trenches opened up to our eyes. The ruined cottage, cold and
shattered, standing mid-way, looked lonely and forbidding. Here and
there on the field I could see grey, inert objects sinking down, as it
were, on the grass.
"I suppose that's the dead, the things lying on the ground," said
Stoner. "They must be cold poor devils, I almost feel sorry for them."
The birds were singing, a blackbird hopped on to the parapet, looked
enquiringly in, his yellow bill moving from side to side, and (p. 097)
fluttered away; a lark rose into the heavens warbling for some minutes,
a black little spot on the grey clouds; he sang, then sank to earth
again, finding a resting place amongst the dead. We could see the
German trenches distinctly now, and could almost count the sandbags on
the parapet. Presently on my right a rifle spoke. Bill was firing
again.
"Nark the doin's, Bill, nark it," Goliath shouted, mimicking the
Cockney accent. "You'll annoy those good people across the way."
"An if I do!"
"They may fire at you!" said monumental Goliath with fine irony.
"Then 'ere's another," Bill replied, and fired again.
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