at on the bottom of the
trench, head erect. If a splinter struck me it would wound me in the
shoulders or the arms or knees. I bent low so that I might protect my
stomach; I had seen men struck in that part of the body, the wounds
were ghastly and led to torturing deaths. When a shell came near, I
put the balls of my hands over my eyes, spread my palms outwards and
covered my ears with the fingers. This was some precaution against
blindness; and deadened the sound of explosion. Bill for a moment was
unmoved, he stood upright in a niche in the wall and made jokes.

"If I kick the bucket," he said, "don't put a cross with ''E died for
'is King and Country' over me. A bully beef tin at my 'ead will do,
and on it scrawled in chalk, ''E died doin' fatigues on an empty
stomach.'"

"A cig.," he called, "'oo as a cig., a fag, a dottle. If yer can't (p. 193)
give me a fag, light one and let me look at it burnin.' Give Tommy a
fag an' 'e doesn't care wot 'appens. That was in the papers. Blimey!
it puts me in mind of a dummy teat. Give it to the pore man's
pianner...."

"The what!"

"The squalling kid, and tell the brat to be quiet, just like they tell
Tommy to 'old 'is tongue when they give 'im a cig. Oh, blimey!"

A shell burst and a dozen splinters whizzed past Bill's ears. He was
down immediately another prostrate Moslem on the floor of the trench.
In front of me Pryor sat, his head bent low, moving only when a shell
came near, to raise his hands and cover his eyes. The high explosive
shells boomed slowly in from every quarter now, and burst all round
us. Would they fall into the trench? If they did! The La Bassee
monster, the irresistible giant, so confident of its strength was only
one amongst the many. We sank down, each in his own way, closer to the
floor of the trench. We were preparing to be wounded in the easiest
possible way. True we might get killed; lucky if we escaped! Would any
of us see the dawn?...

One is never aware of the shrapnel shell until it bursts. They (p. 194)
had been passing over our heads for a long time, making a sound like
the wind in telegraph wires, before one burst above us. There was a
flash and I felt the heat of the explosion on my face. For a moment I
was dazed, then I vaguely wondered where I had been wounded. My nerves
were on edge and a coldness swept along my spine.... No, I wasn't
struck....

"All right, Pryor?" I asked.

"Something has gone down my back, perhaps it's cla