The
dug-out, in which my mates rested and dreamt, lay silent in the dun
shadows of the parados.
Suddenly a candle was lit inside the door, and I could see our
corporal throw aside the overcoat that served as blanket and place the
tip of a cigarette against the spluttering flame. Bill slept beside
the corporal's bed, his head on a bully beef tin, and one naked arm,
sunned and soiled to a khaki tint, lying slack along the earthen
floor. The corporal came out puffing little curls of smoke into the
night air.
"Quiet?" he asked.
"Dull enough, here," I answered. "But there's no peace up by Souchez."
"So I can hear," he answered, flicking the ash from his cigarette and
gazing towards the hills where the artillery duel was raging. "Have
the working parties come up yet?" he asked.
"Not yet," I answered, "but I think I hear men coming now."
They came along the trench, about two hundred strong, engineers (p. 294)
and infantry, men carrying rifles, spades, coils of barbed wire,
wooden supports, &c. They were going out digging on a new sap and
putting up fresh wire entanglements. This work, when finished, would
bring our fire trench three hundred yards nearer the enemy. Needless
to say, the Germans were engaged on similar work, and they were
digging out towards our lines.
The working party came to a halt; and one of them sat down on the
banquette at my feet, asked for a match and lit a cigarette.
"You're in the village at the rear?" I said.
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