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[Page 10]
ammunition parties and fatigues, ration fatigues, trench mortar carriers streamed across the flat and up the road that led to Pozieres or along Sausage Gully.
Sausage Gully has fixed itself on the Australian imagination here and at home. When one mentions Pozieres one at once recalls the sinister name of Sausage Gully. A picture is conjured up in the mind of a long depression winding its sinuous course towards the front line. On the left is a high land and at the base of this high land is a trench not deep but just enough for shelter. On either side one pictures shells bursting or later he sees Sausage Gully as it was three days after the attack, but he will see that later
Across the flat that separated supports from the slight rise behind the front line was what we had learned to call the "Chalk Pits". Here there were always parties resting before once more starting either way with their loads. These chalkpits were usually under fire and I saw a fair number of casualties there.
Fatigue parties on the Sunday were not altogether picnics. The enemy shelled the approaches all the time but we had very few casualties. About 3pm we were all back in our trenches and making final arrangements. Sandbags were firmly fixed, all gear that could be dispensed with was put into packs. Ammunition was evenly distributed in the Equipment; rifles were cleaned and assurance was made that they were in perfect working order. Machine guns were prepared in readiness for the "stunt" and then we had tea, after which we sat down to wait to move to the "Hop Over Trench". In the meantime we had a few songs, told a few jokes and lived very much the ordinary life as we would have done were it just a "promenade" we were about to take.
About 9.30 pm we received orders to prepare to move. At 10 pm we moved off. In front of the trench was a dump and as each man passed the dump he was given something to carry. Some had a stack of sandbags, others packs with stores, some wire and others water. All had something to take up to the front line which lay perhaps half a mile ahead. We did not pass along Sausage Gully but kept to the left of the rise along the road that ran to Pozieres village. The shell-fire during this trip was heavy but by a great run of luck we arrived at the front line without a casualty. Here, just as we turned the corner and gained comparative safety , a stretcher bearer was wounded in the leg. This was the first casualty in the actual stunt. We passed along the trench and lined the parapet. Bayonets were fixed and we awaited the hour to come. It was here that we heard the attack had been put back an hour and instead of opening at 11.28 it opened at 12.28. This meant and extra hour's suspense.
It would be impossible to give one's thoughts during that hour. They ranged over everything. It would also be wrong in my case at least to say I did not feel nervous, but it was not a nervousness that caused a hesitation when the hour to move comes along but rather just nervousness that comes to anyone who has the gift of imagination.
At 23 minutes past twelve the word was passed along-"5 minutes to go" – three minutes later "2 minutes to go". Prepare to move and then as our barrage crashed down on the enemy trenches the order came to "Move". Not a seconds hesitation,- a few seconds and we were all out in "No Man's Land. About fifteen yards we walked and then lay down. Here we adjusted ourselves, put ourselves at correct intervals, and became accustomed to being without the protection of the trench.
Each company had its own objective to take but we soon became thoroughly mixed and the first objective was taken by all hands.