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[Page 318]

[Post card: 4 of series]
run back to carry out a man, badly wounded – I was dragging him out (on my own) when a shell passed over my head, so close that my hat was dashed off my head and buried in the mud – my scalp too was slightly warmed up – The shell, a 77 buried itself in the side of the trench 2 feet from me, and fortunately, didn't explode – I tell you that shook me up a bit, and now I take advantage of every bit of cover –

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