or of the trench was killed. Then the left half of the right fire
trench had three or four shells, one after another, bang into it. There
was no trench left; only macerated earth and mangled men. Those
emerging alive were told to retreat to the communication trench.
Next, the right end of the left fire trench was blown in. When the
survivors fell back to the communication trench that also was
blown in their face.

"Oh, but we were having a merry party!" as Lieutenant Vandenberg
put it.

Niven and his lieutenants were moving here and there to the point of
each new explosion to ascertain the amount of damage and to
decide what was to be done as the result. One soldier described
Niven's eyes as sparks emitted from two holes in his dust-caked face.

Pappineau tells how a tree outside the trench was cut in two by a
shell and its trunk laid across the breach of the trench caused by
another shell; and lying over the trunk, limp and lifeless where he had
fallen, was a man killed by still another shell.

"I remember how he looked because I had to step around him and
over the trunk," said Pappineau.

Unless you did have to step around a dead or a wounded man there
was no time to observe his appearance; for by noon there were as
many dead and wounded in the P.P.s' trench as there were men fit
for action.

Those unhurt did not have to be steadied by their superiors. Knocked
down by a concussion they sprang up with the promptness of disgust
of one thrown off a horse or tripped by a wire. When told to move
from one part of the trench to another where there was desperate
need, a word was sufficient. They understood what was wanted of
them, these veterans. They went. They seized every lull to drop the
rifle for the spade and repair the breaches. When they were not
shooting they were digging. The officers had only to keep reminding
them not to expose themselves in the breaches. For in the thick of it,
and the thicker the more so, they must try to keep some dirt between
all of their bodies except the head and arm which had to be up in
order to fire.

At 1.30 p.m. a cheer rose from that trench. It was in greeting of a
platoon of the King's Royal Rifles which had come as a reinforcement.
Oh, but this band of Tommies did look good to the P.P.s! And the
little prize package that the very reliable Mr. Atkins had with him
--the machine-gun! You can always count on Mr. Atkins to remain
"among those present" to the last on such occasio