When we reached the foot we got into the shell hole blasted out by the minenwerfer that had torn the corner of the shaft away. We had not yet completed our observations and Cap decided he would try the top of the slag heap. To the top we crawled, placing our periscope and telephone in position, and were nicely settled and doing good work, the Captain congratulating himself audibly on his bright thought in selecting this spot, when his congratulations were cut short by a shell smashing the periscope glass, followed by a minenwerfer striking the bottom of the slag heap, making another huge excavation and causing the slag at the top to roll down from under us, taking us with it. But the Cap was not to be driven away so easily. “Come on, Grant, let’s try it again,” and up we went again, and again another large shell at the bottom of the pile caused a cave-in, and down we rolled. Still the Captain had not enough, and up we went a third time. The same thing happened again, the shells tearing away a large hole at the bottom of the slag heap, causing the slag on which we were standing to give way and carrying us to the bottom. By this time the shells were showering the entire place and Captain Black reluctantly decided that it was no go, and we gave it up.
It was during the stay of my battery on the Lens-Arras road, during the Vimy Ridge preparation, that I again personally encountered Fritz in the form of his spy system. One night after the guns had been oiled and prepared for their next job, and we were all busy cleaning up the ammunition for the work in hand, I was accosted by a couple of British officers, a Captain and a Major.
“Sergeant, would you kindly help us to a drink of water?” said the Major. “Certainly, sir,” I answered, saluting; “if you will wait here a moment I will get it for you.”
“Thank you,” they replied, and I went for the water. Returning I found the Major with one of our shells in his hand and the Captain examining the gun.
“She’s a beauty, Sergeant,” said the Captain.
“Yes, sir,” I smilingly answered, “and she is just as good as she is beautiful,—never kicks or falters.”
“By Jove!” laughed the Major, “that’s a good one. How many messages did you send them last night, Sergeant?”
“None, sir.”
“You don’t say! Why I thought I heard you firing. Where is your battery operating?”
“Oh, we just sent off a few rounds at the crossroads.”
“She seems to have been doing her bit today all right.”
While conversing with the Major, I noticed the Captain talking with one of my men about the gun sight and, hastily excusing myself to the Major, I went over to him. “Pardon me for interrupting. Billy, you had better go over to the Major and tell him the gun is ready at once for inspection.”
Billy excused himself to the Captain and started off. The officers then prepared to leave.