Item 01: G. O. Hawkins articles and notes ca. 1916-1919 - Page 126
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[Page 126]
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exploding flash is still on our eyeballs as we try again to fix the location. Our fears are thrown aside. We persuade ourselves that the German shell has struck a wall somewhat to the left and beyond the gun. She will bark as usual at daylight and hurl her mighty missile towards the enemy.
The sound of treading feet comes to our ears. We listen into the darkness. We hear men marching we hear the clear clomp of horses hoofs, the clonk of wagon wheels, the grinding crush of their steel tyres on the hardness and grit of the road. We hear the distinct jewel-like clink of the chains, the creak and squeeze of leather, the shuffle wheeze, and wobble of baggage, the sharp clash of metal, the tread of feet, the tramp of feet, the shuffle and drag of feet. We hear the snort of a horse, the weird complaint of a mule, a half laugh of the human voice, a muttered curse.