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[Page 130]
fallen in, they were situated in an old apple orchard. There were small apples on the trees. Next day by some strange mistake, our own guns shelled us and it was no fun, big 60 pounders falling about and around, brickbats flying from the adjoining buildings and apples galore on the ground. They were bitter little brutes and made ones stomach ache. We sent a runner back to tell the artillery and the bombard ceased. About an hour later, Fritz opened up a bombard and made things just as bad, after that he used to open up a desultry bombard at any old time, and we called the place, the "Garden of Eden", from the delightful time spent there. Just on our left was a Fritz cemetry, which reminds me that just in front of where I was digging in after attacking, was a cross erected by Fritz to a British soldier, who had been killed in the March retreat, on it in German was "Here rests an English warrior." At night, our fatigues consisted of carrying stew from the back of the town up to the front, and it was a rotten job too, shells falling here and there.
There were some sights, sure, in the town of Framerville, where the armoured cars had done their work, they had come up swiftly and when they reached the crossroads, had swung round down the street opening up with their machine guns on everything to be seen. At the crossroads was a dead bullock with a collar on upside down. A few yards further on, a waggonette with 4 horses in, the horses were dead and the men were lying near by, dead also. 30 yards or so away a Fritz had been riding a small donkey and both were lying on the ground together, his brightly enamelled picklehaube lying some distance away