To bomb soon became as common a verb with the army as to bayonet.  “We bombed them out” meant a section of trench taken by throwing bombs.  As you know, a trench is dug and built with sandbags in zigzag traverses.  In following the course of a trench it is as if you followed the sides of the squares of a checker board up and down and across on the same tier of squares.  The square itself is a bank of earth, with the cut on either side and in front of it.  When a bombing-party bombs its way into possession of a section of German trench, there are Germans under cover of the traverses on either side.  They are waiting around the corner to shoot the first British head that shows itself.

“It is important that you and not the Boches chuck the bombs over first,” explained the subaltern.  “Also, that you get them into the right traverse, or they may be as troublesome to you as to the enemy.”

With bombs bursting in their faces, the Germans who are not put out of action are blinded and stunned.  In that moment when they are off guard, the aggressors leap around the corner.

“And then?”

“Stick ’em, sir!” said the matter-of-fact sergeant.  “Yes, the cold steel is best.  And do it first!  As Mr. MacPherson said, it’s very important to do it first.”

It has been found that something short is handy for this kind of work.  In such cramped quarters—­a ditch six feet deep and from two to three feet broad—­the rifle is an awkward length to permit of prompt and skilful use of the bayonet.

“Yes, sir, you can mix it up better with something handy—­to think that British soldiers would come to fighting like assassins!” said the sergeant.  “You must be spry on such occasions.  It’s no time for wool-gathering.”

Not a smile from him or the subaltern all the time.  They were the kind you would like to have along in a tight corner, whether you had to fight with knives, fists, or seventeen-inch howitzers.

The sergeant took us into the storehouse where he kept his supply of bombs.

“What if a German shell should strike your storehouse?” I asked.

“Then, sir, I expect that most of the bombs would be exploded.  Bombs are very peculiar in their habits.  What do you think, sir?”

It was no trouble to show stock, as clerks at the stores say.  He brought forth all the different kinds of bombs that British ingenuity had invented—­but no, not all invented.  These would mount into the thousands.  Every British inventor who knows anything about explosives has tried his hand at a new kind of bomb.  One means all the kinds which the British War Office has considered worth a practice test.  The spectator was allowed to handle each one as much as he pleased.  There had been occasions, that boyish Scottish subaltern told me, when the men who were examining the products of British ingenuity—­well, the subaltern had sandy hair, too, which heightened the effect of his blue eyes.