floor of the trenches.

For a moment I remained awake; then phantoms rioted before my (p. 181)
eyes; the trees out by the German lines became ghouls. They held
their heads together in consultation and I knew they were plotting
some evil towards me. What were they going to do? They moved, long,
gaunt, crooked figures dressed in black, and approached me. I felt
frightened but my fright was mixed with curiosity. Would they speak?
What would they say? I knew I had wronged them in some way or another;
when and how I did not remember. They came near. I could see they wore
black masks over their faces and their figures grew in size almost
reaching the stars. And as they grew, their width diminished; they
became mere strands reaching form earth to heaven. I rubbed my eyes,
to find myself gazing at the long, fine grasses that grew up from the
reverse slope of the parapet.

I leant back from the banquette across the narrow trench and rested my
head on the parados. I could just rest for a moment, one moment then
get up again. The ghouls took shape far out in front now, and careered
along the top of the German trench, great gaunt shadows that raced as
if pursued by a violent wind. Why did they run so quickly? Were they
afraid of something? They ran in such a ridiculous way that I (p. 182)
could not help laughing. They were making way, that was it. They had
to make way. Why?

"Make way!"

Two stretcher-bearers stood on my right; in front of them a sergeant.

"Make way, you're asleep," he said.

"I'm not," I replied, coming to an erect position.

"Well, you shouldn't remain like that, if you don't want to get your
head blown off."

My next sentry hour began at nine in the morning; I was standing on
the banquette when I heard Bill speaking. He was just returning with a
jar of water drawn from a pump at the rear, and he stopped for a
moment in front of Spud Higgles, one of No. 4's boys.

"Mornin'! How's yer hoppin' it?" said Spud.

"Top over toe!" answered Bill. "Ow's you?"

"Up to the pink. Any news?"

"Yer 'aven't 'eard it?"

"What?"

"The Brigadier's copped it this mornin'."

"Oo?"

"Our Brigadier." (p. 183)

"Git!"

"'S truth!"

"Strike me pink!" said Spud. "'Ow?"

"A stray bullet."

"Stone me ginger! but one would say he'd a safe job."

"The bullet 'ad 'is number!"

"So, he's gone west!"

"He's gone west!"

Bill's information was quite