"Confound it," he said, "I'm all a
bunch of nerves, I didn't sleep last night and very little the night
before."
His eyebrows were drawn tight together and wrinkles were forming
between his eyes; the old sparkle was almost entirely gone from them.
"Mervin," he said, "and the other two, the bloke with his side blown
away. It's terrible."
"Try and have a sleep," I said, "nobody seems to need us yet."
He lay down on the empty sandbags which littered the floor, and
presently he was asleep. I tried to read Montaigne, but could not, the
words seemed to be running up and down over the page; the firing
seemed to have doubled in intensity, and the shells swept low almost
touching the roof of the dug-out.
"Orderly!"
I stumbled out into the open, and a sharp penetrating rain, and made
my way to the Headquarters. The adjutant was inside at the telephone
speaking to the firing line.
"Hello! that the Irish?" he said. "Anything to report? The mine has done
no damage? No, fifteen yards back, lucky! Only three casualties (p. 162)
so far."
The adjutant turned to an orderly officer: "The mine exploded fifteen
yards in front, three wounded. Are you the orderly?" he asked, turning
to me.
"Yes, sir."
"Find out where the sergeant-major is and ask him if to-morrow's
rations have come in yet."
"Where is the sergeant-major?" I asked.
"I'm not sure where he stays," said the adjutant. "Enquire at the
Keep."
The trench was wet and slobbery, every hole was a pitfall to trap the
unwary; boulders and sandbags which had fallen in waited to trip the
careless foot.
Pages:
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121