s, in this nerve-shattering prelude to the Great Push, I could
hear the sweet warblings of a lark, as it rose higher and higher in the
murky, misty sky.

At one place I had to pass through a narrow lane, and on either side
were hidden batteries, sending round upon round into the German
trenches, always under keen observation from enemy-spotting balloons and
aeroplanes. The recent shell-holes in the roadway made me pause before
proceeding further. I noticed a sergeant of the Lancashire Fusiliers at
the entrance to a thickly sand-bagged shelter, and asked him if there
was another way to the section of the front line I sought.

"No, sir," he said, "that is the only way; but it's mighty unhealthy
just now. The Hun is crumpling it with his 5.9-inch H.E., and making a
tidy mess of the road. But he don't hit our guns, sir. He just improves
their appearance by making a nice little frill of earth around them, he
does, and--look out, sir; come in here.

"Here she comes!"

With a murderous shriek and horrible splitting roar a German shell burst
on the roadway about fifty yards away.

"That is Fritz's way of making love, sir," he said, with a chuckle;
which remark admirably reflects the marvellous morale of our men.

"Have they been shelling the avenues much?" I asked, referring to the
various communication trenches leading to the front line.

"Yes, sir. Nos. 1, 2 and 3 are being severely crumped. I would suggest
No. 5, sir; it's as clear as any of them. I should advise you to get
along this lane as fast as possible. I have been here some time, so I
know Fritz's little ways."

He saluted, and like a mole disappeared into his dug-out as I moved
away.

I told my man to keep about ten yards behind me, so that in the event of
a shell bursting near by one or the other of us would have a chance of
clearing.

"Now," I said, "let it go at a double. Come on," and with head well
forward I raced up the road.

Altogether, with my camera, I was carrying about seventy pounds in
weight, so you can guess it was no easy matter. There was about another
150 yards to go, when I heard the ominous shriek of a German shell.

"Down in the ditch," I yelled. "Lie flat," and suiting the action to the
word, I flung myself down in the mud and water near a fallen tree. Crash
came the shell, and it exploded with a deafening roar more on the side
of the road than the previous one, and near enough to shower mud and
water all over me as I lay there.