very bad.  I looked down and, oh joy, I saw a big, jagged bit of shell imbedded in my foot.  I tried to move it, but the pain was too great.  Joy seemed to catch me by the throat, I began to dance, but such a pang shot through my leg that I had to stop.  I dropped my rifle and hopped towards the dressing-station.  I think it was the happiest moment in my life.  I lost the sensation of weariness for the time being.  But my foot began to hurt very badly and I got someone to help me along.  My wound was dressed.  I got on to a stretcher and I didn’t know anything more until I was taken out of the motor ambulance here at the C.C.S.  Anyhow, I’m all right now and I’m going to try and get across to Blighty and swing the lead as long as I can.”

There was silence for a while.  It had grown dark outside.  But the call from the theatre sounded again.  Gradually the waiting-room emptied itself until at last there were only two men left sitting in front of the fire.  They both seemed depressed and gloomy.  Then one of them broke the silence and said: 

“We was goin’ over when a ’eavy one burst.  I didn’t ’alf cop a packet in me shoulder.  It’s the third time too, an’ I’ve got the wind up about goin’ up the line agin when I’m out o’ dock.  The third time’s yer last, yer know.  Fritz’ll send one over with me number on it, that’s a bloody cert!”

“If yer number’s up it’s up,” said the other, who had a big patch over his right ear.  “If yer’ve got ter die yer’ve got ter die, an’ it’s no use worryin’ about it.”

Their turn came before long and I helped each one to get on to a table.  Then I went over to the Prep. to see if any more walking wounded had arrived, but there were none at all.

I stood out in the open for a few minutes in order to breathe the fresh air.  There was a roar and rumble of distant drum-fire.  The trees behind the C.C.S. stood out blackly against the pallid flashes that lit up the entire horizon.

The mortuary attendant came walking along the duckboards.

As he passed by me he growled: 

“There’s a ’ell of a stunt on—­there’ll be umpteen slabs for the mortuary.”

VI

AIR-RAIDS

It was a warm, sunny afternoon.  About a dozen of us were pitching a marquee in leisurely fashion, when suddenly there was a shout of “Fritz up!”

We gazed at the sky, and, after searching for a while, saw a tiny white speck moving slowly across the blue at an immense height.  Then, at some distance from it, a small white puff, like a little ball of cotton-wool, appeared.  A few seconds passed and we heard a faint pop.  More puffs appeared around the moving speck, each one followed by a pop.  All at once, behind us, a bright tongue of flame flashed out above a group of bushes.  There was a sharp report and a whizzing, rustling noise that died down gradually.  Then another puff and another pop.