intended to have it gathered up. He did not wait for daylight; in the
middle of the night we were called out to manhandle the ammunition from
an improvised sled that had been built and loaded with it and hauled
over the mud to the bridge. There was no slacking on that job, every man
carrying two of the shells--18 pounders--and when we finally got them
to the guns we were allowed to turn in.

[Illustration: Behemoth in Battle]

Just before daylight a counter attack started and we were ordered to
repel it, which we did with all the ammunition that was capable of being
used; lots of it we could not use as the mud and dirt prevented; it had
to be thoroughly cleaned and oiled before being fired. The battle lasted
well until noon, and having accomplished our work we got a "Stand down!"
after which came the usual hurry and scurry to clean and oil our pet and
get her all in readiness for the next act. There was still some
ammunition left lying on the ground that had been spilled, and we were
instructed to gather it in at once, clean and oil it and put it in the
gun pit. While busy at this job I glanced overhead and noticed an
airplane: "I believe that's a German," calling attention to it. The
fellows didn't agree with me, they holding it was a British bird, and we
all went on with our work. I kept my eye on it, however, for some
reason, and saw it finally go over the ridge and turn, and as it
turned--Kr-kr-kr-p! and a shell lit on the ridge 25 yards in our front;
it was about an 8-incher and showered the dirt in all directions. We
scurried like rabbits into our pit, emerging in a few minutes when the
dirt and dust had blown away. Glancing up again I noticed the air bird
turn again, and instantly another one came, this time landing near the
gun pit, throwing a shower of mud and dirt on it, and causing
considerable profanity for the extra work given us by Fritz. Instant
orders were given us to take cover as a strafing was in sight, and we
shot out of the gun pit, jumped into the trench and ran along. Two of
the fellows were immediately ahead of me, Dinghy and Graham, and
Graham's footwork was so slow that I jumped up on the parapet of the
trench to get past him, and over the top I skedaddled toward our 30-foot
dugout, which had formerly been the home of the Germans; like most of
their quarters it was large, roomy and comfortable. To get to the dugout
we had to go through a German gun pit which was then being used by us as
a coo