in range of the big guns, but after the
heavy shelling and bombing in the front lines they seemed like heaven.
We had been out there two or three days when little Mac came to me and
said, "Say, kid, I'm on the track of a bomb-proof job." I said, "What
makes you think that?" "Well," said he, "just as I came down the line
I overheard the old Sergeant telling another guy about it, and if we
can get on, will you come?" I said, "You mutt, it all depends on what
it is." "Oh, I thought I told you," says Mac, "they are calling for
men to go to the tunnellers." "Nothing doing for this child!" "Now,
look here," says Mac, "you've only got to die once, and you might
better be buried in a sap than be blown to hell by a big shell, there
would be more of you left for your friends, anyway, besides a change is
as good as a rest, and as there seems to be small chance of us getting
any rest, we might just as well keep this chance." So I said, "All
right, we can try it for a week, and then if we don't like being
buried, we can come back to life; that's more than most people can do";
so away went Mac to tell the Sergeant that we would go. He said,
"Well, I'm sorry to lose you boys, but I don't blame you for wanting to
get away from what we have been going through lately, and any time you
want to come back to the old boys we will only be too glad to have
you." He told us to report to a branch of the Royal Engineers known as
the 250th Tunnelling Company. They were located in the Kemmil dugouts,
so away Mac and I went to old Kemmil, where we had been all the
previous winter.

When we reached the line of dugouts we stuck our head into one and
asked where we would find the officer in charge. A voice from a far
corner called out, "_Oui_, the bleeder is in the end dugout, old cock!"
We found the officer's dugout without any trouble and reported for
duty. He told us that we would not be needed till night, and that we
had better go and find a dugout to rest in, so away we went back to the
place where we had inquired for Headquarters. It was our first brush
up against the English Tommy, and we were anxious to see more of him.
We went into the dugout and found about a dozen men lying around, some
of them rolled in their blankets trying to sleep, and others smoking.
I went over beside the chap who had answered my first question, and
after telling him who I was and what I was there for, he made room for
me and I sat down. He was a funny-lo