r men. At night, we went out to bury
them, but the enemy fired on us, so we had to leave them there. The wind
was blowing our way, and they knew the odours of the battlefield were as
hard for us to bear as was their artillery or rifle fire. This scheme they
had learned from the Russians, who practised it during their war with
Japan.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Our trenches were pretty effective against rifle fire, but we had not yet
learned to make them deep and narrow enough in proportion to protect us
against shrapnel, which is not of much use against troops in the
present-day trench. Our defence lay in leaning up close against the front
wall of the trench, which caused most of the force of the shrapnel burst
to go over our heads. One morning I was hugging the wall of the trench as
close as I could stick, when a "coal box" burst near by. It tore down a
long section of trench wall, killing a number of men. I saw the explosion
and the next thing I knew I heard some one saying:
"Ah'll bet ye' Joe's snuffed it noo', puir lad."
I stuck my head up out of what seemed to me to be a ton or two of rock and
dirt and yelled: "No; not this time!"
You should have seen their faces. Some looked frightened and others
relieved. In a second they began to laugh. Two or three of them helped me
to my feet, and then the laughing became more boisterous.
"It isn't so d---- funny as you think," I said, getting a little peeved.
They turned me round and one of them held up the front part of my kilt in
such a way that I could see the whole rear of the garment had been torn
off. Certain portions of my anatomy were as guiltless of clothes as when I
was born. A splinter of the shell, about fourteen pounds in weight, had
given me a close crop. Then I had to laugh too, though I was somewhat
battered and sore, but that night it wasn't so funny. I was almost frozen
while on sentry go, and the next day it was just as bad.
As I have already told you, the transports were scarce, and we had little
to eat, and absolutely nothing in the way of new equipment. It was all we
could do to get ammunition. After shivering all day, I determined to have
some clothes. Right in front of our position, about twenty-five yards from
the trench, lay a dead member of _H_ company whose name was Jock
Drummond. Under cover of darkness, I sneaked out, and was almost beside
the body, when a flare rocket went up. All of No Man's Land was lit up
like day and I had to lie a
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