ere, the
center of a new moon.
But then in the light of bursting shells we saw Colonel Kirby and
Ranjoor Singh and Captain Fellowes and some other officers far out
in front of us beckoning--calling on us for our greatest effort. We
answered. We swept forward after them into the teeth of all the
inventions in the world. Mine after mine exploded under our very
feet. Shrapnel burst among us. There began to be uncut wire, and men
rushed out at us from trenches that we thought obliterated, but that
proved only to have been hidden under debris by our gun-fire.
Shadows resolved into trenches defended by machine guns.
But we went forward--cavalry, without a spur among us--cavalry with
rifles--cavalry on foot--infantry with the fire and the drill and
the thoughts of cavalry--still cavalry at heart, for all the weapons
they had given us and the trench life we had lived. We remembered,
sahib, that the Germans had been educated lately to despise us, and
we were out that night to convert them to a different opinion! It
seemed good to D Squadron that Ranjoor Singh, who had done the
defamation, should lead us to the clearing of our name. Nothing
could stop us that night.
Whereas we had been last in the advance, we charged into the lead
and held it. We swept on I know not how far, but very far beyond the
wings. No means had been devised that I know of for checking the
distance covered, and I suppose Headquarters timed the attack and
tried to judge how far the advance had carried, with the aid of
messengers sent running back. No easy task!
At all events we lost touch with the regiments to right and left,
but kept touch with the enemy, pressing forward until suddenly our
own shell-fire ceased to fall in front of us but resumed pounding
toward our rear. They call such a fire a barrage, sahib. Its purpose
is to prevent the enemy from making a counter-attack until the
infantry can dig themselves in and secure the new ground won. That
meant we were isolated. It needed no staff officer to tell, us that,
or to bring us to our senses. We were like men who wake from a
nightmare, to find the truth more dreadful than the dream.
Colonel Kirby was wounded a little, and sat while a risaldar bound
his arm. Ranjoor Singh found a short trench half full of water, and
ordered us into it. Although we had not realized it until then, it
was raining torrents, and the Germans we drove out of that trench
(there were but a few of them) were wetter th
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