The idea of a sacrifice gun is this:  if the enemy broke through on either or both flanks, pushing our men back, we had to wait for orders from the commanding officer or from headquarters before firing; All the ammunition carried was fifty shells; it was all we could get in those days.  In daytime the gun was covered with brush and other means of concealment to keep it from the ever watchful eye of the Hun.  At night the crew consisted of two men, one on each side of the gun, and three more in a ruined building a hundred yards in the rear of the gun.  Our shifts were two hours on and four off.  The purpose pursued by the sacrifice gun is to surprise the enemy when in full view and exposed, killing as many of them as possible, blasting gaps through their line and enabling our men to dig in in the position to which they have retired, we knowing all the while that there is not one chance in a thousand that the men connected with the sacrifice gun will escape either death or capture.  Our orders were under no circumstances to leave the gun as long as a shell remained and a man lived.  Deuced pleasant!  The ground in front of us was well drilled with concealed holes all the way from four to six feet deep, in each of which strands of barbed wire had been placed and the opening carefully concealed with clumps of grass, brush and the like.

Blaisdell and I volunteered to take first shift on the gun on the first night, about 10 o’clock.  We had to take a narrow path on the way, with Fritz sniping us every step; he had registered the path and it was a constant target for his machine guns and snipers.  Our pet was well hidden in the hedge, with its nose poking through a hole in the leafage and so cunningly camouflaged that it was absolutely impossible to be noticed.

While lying stretched on each side of the gun between the muzzle and wheel, any talking we did was to whisper cautiously to each other, as the very grass beneath our feet contained spies in those days; the country-side round about was as thickly infested with them as cells in a honeycomb; and thus we waited.

Presently we heard the crackle of a piece of brushwood immediately out in our front.  The intruder had gotten into our entanglement.  “Halt!  Who goes there?” No answer.  I repeated the challenge; still no answer.  We made our way cautiously through the hedge, unclicked our safety catches and were just about to fire in the direction of the sound when someone yelled, “Where’s the Durham Light Infantry lying?” We ordered them to advance until within ten feet.

“Who are you?”

“Durham Light Infantry.”

In the darkness we could not tell who they were but they spoke English like natives.

“What are you doing out here wandering around in this fashion?”

“Well,” one of them answered, “we were taking a stroll and got lost and we want to find our way back.”