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[Page 60]

heard the whine of the bullet, thinking it was someone accidently firing his rifle or a cartridge carelessly put in an incinerator. I murmured to myself "Damn silly trick" & went to sleep. Thus do we comment upon tragedy unknown.
The results of that solitary shot - so common a sound - were a number of men digging on the hill above our camp this morning and this afternoon, a burial party, three tolleys, the glint of bayonets at the "present"

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