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[Page 46]
his boots under his arm, but another Lieutenant was not so fortunate. He was buried with several beams across his legs. His head & shoulders were free, & he coolly gave directions to the single man who alone was able to creep in and dig him out. This took 4 hours. He did not go unconscious till he reached the dressing station, after apologising all the way there to the stretcher bearers, for being unable to walk. Some men have hearts like horses.
One night a little snow fell, and a frost set in towards morning. The cold was nigh unbearable. It was too muddy to mark time and warm our feet. On trying to get down to the dugout at daybreak, I fell half a doz times, and crawled half the distance. My limbs were quite numb and refused to answer to my desires. Gracious, we Australians were not meant for this winter campaign.
On Sunday 31st Dec. 1916 we came out to reserve, about ½ mile behind Battn. H.Q, near Flers. It seemed more like my birthday than Mothers. Here we were packed in small dugouts, 4 to a dugout, and did light fatigues. It was a rest, but a tiring one. It gave us a chance to have a look round tho' and to examine some of the famous "Tanks" which met disaster near Flers. These must indeed have been formidable things, with their machine guns and 9 pounders.
The village of Flers too, was interesting. The houses are reduced to brick & debris heaps, and the streets barred by fallen timber & buildings amid a string of shell hole. It is the picture of desolation. All the timber, which once was green, ornamental woods, is now leafless, limbless, shattered poles, more forbidding than tombstones. The village cemetery is in ruins. Shell fire has churned the ground like a ploughed field. It was round here that the New Zealanders fought so bravely, and hundreds of graves remain to mark the stubbornness of the fighting. Flers however, is a beautiful city compared to the condition of Pozieres.
On Sunday 8th Jan 1917 we