times. We went along cursing our hard
luck, and making the best time we could, for the bullets were flying
mighty thick. Flares were going up every few minutes, and every time
one went up we would "freeze" till it went out again. At last we got
quite close to the front line, and when Fritz sent up a flare it would
fall right behind us. They couldn't help seeing us, for we made a
lovely target with those big slabs of corrugated iron on our heads.
The machine guns just ripped lead at us, and we were hurrying to get to
the trench, when young Blair got it through the thigh. He started to
yell at the top of his voice; and Scottie, who happened to be next in
line, cussed him roundly for the noise he was making. We would likely
have been all killed if he hadn't shut up. Well, they bound him up and
carried him out, and the rest of us went on.

We hadn't gone fifty feet when Scottie went down with a crash, just in
front of me. I crawled up to him, and he was badly hit--the blood was
pouring from his mouth, and he mumbled "Stretcher bearer."
Flare-pistol Bill went on to the trench to hunt up one, and I crawled
back to see if I could find the one who had come up with us. Before I
got back with Bob the stretcher bearer from the trench had fixed
Scottie up as well as he could. Poor Scottie! his jaw was shattered.
Bink insisted on carrying Scottie out on his shoulders, and they
started. But before going halfway Bink played out, and when
Scottie saw that Bink was all in he got down and walked to the
dressing-station. Say, that boy was sure game. By the way, he's in
Blighty now. Well, the rest of us got through safely, we fixed up our
trench and managed to get back to our supports. A few nights later we
made another trip to the front lines, and this was disastrous for No.
10. First of all, Tucker got shot in the face while on a wiring party;
then Jack Branch was on a working party behind the trench when Fritzie
started shelling, and he got a shrapnel bullet through his arm. We
bound him up, and he was in great pain, but he smiled all the time. As
he went out, he said, "I'll give your love to all the girls at
Shorncliffe." I thought, "Well, isn't this a hell of a war, when a man
can be pleased over getting a bloomin' big hole through his arm?"

Later that same night Tommy Gammon was on sentry go, and I was sleeping
in the dugout behind him, when Corporal Banks came in and woke me. He
said, "Do you want to see Tommy?