“Plenty of time yet,” explains Captain Blaikie to his subalterns, in reply to Bobby Little’s expressions of impatience.  “It’s this way.  We start by ‘isolating’ a section of the enemy’s line, and pound it with artillery for about forty-eight hours.  Then the guns knock off, and the people in front rush the German first-line trenches.  After that they push on to their second and third lines; and if they can capture and hold them—­well, that’s where the fun comes in.  We go for all we are worth through the gaps the others have made, and carry on the big push, and keep the Bosches on the run until they drop in their tracks!  That’s the situation.  If we are called up to-night or to-morrow, it will mean that things are going well.  If not, it means that the attack has failed—­or, very likely, has succeeded, but it has been found impossible to secure the position—­and a lot of good chaps have been scuppered, all for nothing.”

III

Next morning has arrived, and with it the news that our services will not be required.  The attack, it appears, was duly launched, and succeeded beyond all expectations.  The German line was broken, and report says that four Divisions poured through the gap.  They captured the second-line trenches, then the third, and penetrated far into the enemy’s rear.

Then—­from their front and flanks, artillery and machine-guns opened fire upon them.  They were terribly exposed; possibly they had been lured into a trap.  At any rate, the process of “isolation” had not been carried far enough.  One thing, and only one thing, could have saved them from destruction and their enterprise from disaster—­the support of big guns, and big guns, and more big guns.  These could have silenced the hostile tornado of shrapnel and bullets, and the position could have been made good.

But—­apparently the supply of big-gun ammunition is not quite so copious as it might be.  We have only been at war ten months, and people at home are still a little dazed with the novelty of their situation.  Out here, we are reasonable men, and we realise that it requires some time to devise a system for supplying munitions which shall hurt the feelings of no pacifist, which shall interfere with no man’s holiday or glass of beer, which shall insult no honest toiler by compelling him to work side by side with those who are not of his industrial tabernacle, and which shall imperil no statesman’s seat in Parliament.  Things will be all right presently.

Meanwhile, the attacking party fell back whence they came—­but no longer four full Divisions.

XVIII

THE FRONT OF THE FRONT

We took over these trenches a few days ago; and as the Germans are barely two hundred yards away, this chapter seems to justify its title.

For reasons foreshadowed last month, we find that we are committed to an indefinite period of trench life, like every one else.