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[Page 62]
to reinforce and shortly returning, frightfully maimed and covered with blood – I don't think I shall ever be able to forget this; it's horrible.
One poor fellow , a New Zealander, came tearing past smothered with blood and quite delirious, kissing everyone he passed, upon whom he left splashes of blood.
Some come along gasping out their lives and then remain silent, for ever.
I don't think we can hold the Ridge much longer – to complicate matters, our own Guns are firing into us,
Will the stream of wounded never cease? It is now nearly midday and still they keep pouring down – Marines, some of them mere boys and New Zealanders are supporting us, but getting frightfully cut up.
I am told to go and rest, which I do upon a hill held by the Marines. I lie down in the sun for a bit, but sleep I cannot.
May 4
Rest day - go to a new Rest Camp a little more sheltered from the snipers – expected to be away from the trenches a few days, but at 6.30 p.m. have to return – we are very short of men.
Enemy has been busy all night with bombs through which we are losing many men – when I see the men going into the trenches I often wonder how many are coming out – a few minutes after they have been in there is usually a scream, then the awful cry "Stretcher bearers", and then the mangled heap is brought out. The wounded lying in the clean wards of a