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[Page 41]
Here we had to shelter from rather accurate & prolonged bombardment from the German light artillery. He had the range of this road to a nicety. From here onward, a distance of about 700 yards, it was very slow going. The men, thoroughly exhausted, slipped & fell and got bogged every few paces. We halted every few yards as each star shell lit the sky. The rattle of the machine guns as these flares went up, showed us that Fritz was keeping a good look out.
At last, when we were all ready to give it best, we heard the welcome call; Halt! who goes there? Our NCO answered, "Friend, ration party" "Hoo b— ray, give us a dixie of tea, we are d— near dead" . And so we put our loads down and quietly fed the lads in this trench. We talked in whispers, just filling their dixies with steaming tea & stew. They were standing in a foot of water, or sitting on the muddy fire step. They do 2 days & nights of this; then they return to Battalion Head quarters and carry food containers up to another lot, who do the same as they did, just stand in a ditch and watch their front – rifle in hand and bayonet fixed – this new lot being ourselves.
Just in this sector we were not manning a continuous line of trenches, but had groups of men on strong outpost positions, in various points of vantage. So again we set off, this time with a guide, and fed all the drenched bundles of humanity, who groaned at the aching pains which shoot through their joints, as they rise to receive their warm food. Then we set back. The line of weary men gradually lengthened, and we halted here & there as the word came forward to the NCO in lead, "Party disconnected" . A few minutes wait, then from the rear comes "All correct" and we plod on again. Sheer will power drives us on. My boot was more than once left firmly held by the mud, and filled by water as I dragged my leg forward – minus the boot. A short halt while this is adjusted. There is no