of the boys and the
smoke and gas almost choked the rest of us. This continued all day and
all night. An Irishman with a leg and an arm broken was lying at my
side; and he just lay there grinding his teeth and cursing the Germans.
Just after daybreak we heard a lot of bombs bursting in the trench
above and we wondered what was happening. Soon we heard a footstep on
the stairs and some one shouted, "Who's down there!" and one of our
sergeants appeared with a bomb in his hand. "It's us!" we cried, and
perhaps we were not glad to see him! He said, "All right, boys, we'll
get some stretcher bearers up and have you taken out as soon as
possible." In about half an hour along came a carrying party; they
took the Irishman up just ahead of me, and I could hear him grinding
his teeth. Gee! but that fellow had grit. We had just gone a little
way down the trench when _bing_! one of the stretcher bearers got a
bullet through the top of his tin hat. It didn't touch, but it came
too close for comfort and they kept pretty low after that. As they
carried me along some one passed me on the run going out, and I called
"Hello, Benson." He turned around and, gee! he was glad to see me
alive. He grabbed one end of the stretcher and insisted on helping to
carry me out, so away we went to the advance dressing-station. I had
to wait my turn, for there was a long line of wounded. "Well, Bobbie,
what shall I do?" asked Benson. "Go back and report to Headquarters,"
I said. "And, by the way, Benson, what happened to our gun?" "Oh,"
said he, "a shell landed right on top of it and blew it to
smithereens." Not long after old Tucker came along and said, "Got a
Blighty, Bob?" "Yes," says I, "and I'll be lucky if I don't lose my
leg." By this time my leg was swollen up like a balloon, and I was
afraid of blood poisoning. When at last my turn came at this
dressing-station they just gave me an injection to prevent poisoning
and sent me on. After much jolting in a motor ambulance I arrived at a
big clearing-station and had my leg properly dressed. Then they put me
aboard a Red Cross train, and I was lying there feeling pretty tough
when a sweet voice said, "Would you like a cigarette?" I opened my
eyes, and there stood a Red Cross nurse. Say, she looked like an angel
to me. I guess the other boys felt the same, for their eyes followed
her wherever she went. Just before daylight we arrived at the little
town of Camiens, and we were