he steps to the observation post at the back of the chalk-pit (p. 241)
and waited. From this point I had a good view of the line towards
Lens. I watched the luminous hands of my watch, and they passed the
hour of eleven without anything occurring, as the breeze came from the
East. I knew the word "Russia," the name of the country that failed
us, must have been sent over the wires. It was a queer sensation to
sit up there in the dark with no sound but the soft murmur of the
night wind in our ears, and the crash of an occasional shell. In those
long dark stretches of waste land around me, thousands of human beings
on both sides of the line were awake and active, either burrowing like
ants in the ground or bringing up rations and war material along the
communication trenches.

I spent four nights that week in the chalk-pit waiting for the attack,
and on March 21st, the night of the day on which the Germans launched
their fierce attack against our Fifth Army, my patience was rewarded
and the wind was propitious. I mounted the observation post and once
more peered over the black stretches of country under the starlit sky.
Suddenly, at five minutes to eleven, there was a burst of artillery
fire, and over our heads with the usual swishing sound the
gas-cylinders sped forth. The German lines were lit with bursting
shells. Up went their rockets calling to their artillery for
retaliation. I could hear their gas bells ringing to warn their men of
the poison that was being poured upon them. It must have been a
drenching rain of death. I heard gruesome tales afterwards of desolate
enemy trenches and batteries denuded of men. The display of fireworks
was magnificent, and the German artillery in the rear were not slow in
replying. A great artillery duel like that in the darkness of the
night over a waste of ground on which no human habitation could be
seen had a very weird effect, and was wonderful to behold. I climbed
down into the dugout and made my way through it to the chalk-pit, and
then up to an outpost beyond. Here were four men, and I found that
three of them had just come up from the base and that this was their
first night in the line. They did not seem to be enjoying it as much
as I thought they should, so I remarked that it was a beautiful night
and pointed out to them the extraordinary romance of being actually
out in the front line during such a bombardment. They seemed to get
more enthusiastic later on, but the next