n
the stairs bursting on a pile of wounded below. All at once, one hit
the roof of the dugout and dropped at my feet. It exploded and it was
just as if some one had thrown a bucket of boiling water all over my
legs. I put down my hand and my leg was full of holes and the blood
was literally streaming from it. The pain was awful and I couldn't
stand up any longer. I was half fainting, and I dropped into the
dugout on a pile of writhing bodies. But I still had sense enough to
know that if I stayed there the next bomb that came down those stairs
would land on my back, so I managed to scramble off, and then I crawled
along the dugout floor till I came to a table. It was black dark and I
had to feel my way along. I pulled myself up on the table and started
to bind up my leg, when along came one of our crew, Benson; he had
bayoneted the man who was throwing bombs, and had come into the dugout
by the other entrance. He helped me fix myself up and along came one
of our own stretcher bearers. We called to him and he told us that the
old 28th had come to our rescue and had chased the Germans out of the
trench. The stretcher bearer was working like a hero, sorting out the
wounded, binding them up and getting them ready to move. My old man
had managed to get downstairs and he was calling, "Bobbie, Bobbie, come
and help me." I told him that I couldn't go, for I was hit myself.
The stretcher bearer lit some candles and we had a look around; one
entrance of the dugout was blocked and the dead were lying everywhere.
Benson did his best to make me comfortable, but the bone was sticking
out through the side of my leg and it was mighty sore. After awhile an
officer of the 28th came down and said, "Sorry, boys, but we've got to
drop back; the Germans are attacking heavily, and we are not strong
enough to hold them here, we will have to leave you, but if you are
here we will come back for you tomorrow morning." We groaned. I tried
my best to get up the stairs, but after two or three attempts I had to
give up. Benson had to go to help the boys hold the Fritzies in the
next line of trenches. After awhile along came the Germans--the
stretcher bearer saw them as they passed the entrance. In the dugout
we all kept as still as we could. There were thirty of us, all badly
wounded, and caught like rats in a trap.

The Germans did not bother coming down, but they threw bombs in every
time they passed. These bombs killed a number