laid down a
certain number of rounds to be fired at a certain range on Mondays, and
so on for every day in the week. And every relieving battery would
take over this "book of instructions." Of course there were times when
"Fritz" "got the wind up" (lost his nerve), and then he would shell
anything indiscriminately. The god of the German is _Method_, and his
goddess _System_, and it hurt his gunners sorely when we tried
something new, and made him depart from some long-predevised plan.

However, these were discoveries of a later date than the battle which
wiped out about 70 per cent of our strength.

We had not been two days in the trenches before we knew that we were
destined for an attack on the trenches opposite, and we had not had
time even to know the way about our own lines. Few of us had even had
a glimpse of No Man's Land, or sight of the fellow across the street
whom we were to fight.

Our guns immediately began to get busy. In fact, too busy for our
liking, for they had not yet got the correct range. This was before
the days of total aeroplane supremacy, and the battery commander in
those days had not an observer flying above where his shells were
falling, informing him of the slightest error.

At any rate, we soon began to discover that the shells that were
bursting among us were many of them coming from behind. This made us
very uncomfortable, for we were not protected against our own
artillery-fire; and accidents will sometimes happen, do what you can to
avoid them. Our first message over the 'phone was very polite. "We
preferred to be killed by the Germans, thank you," was all we said to
the battery commander. But as his remarks continued to come to us
through the air, accompanied by a charge of explosive, and two of our
officers being killed, our next message was worded very differently,
and we told him that "if he fired again we would turn the machine-guns
on to them." I was sent back to make sure that he got the message. I
took the precaution to take back with me one of his "duds" (unexploded
shells) as evidence. At first he told me I was crazy--that we were
getting German cross-fire, and that his shells were falling two hundred
yards in front of us. I brought out my souvenir, and asked him if he
had ever seen that before. He said: "For God's sake, bury it," but I
told him it was going to divisional headquarters, and that his little
mistake had already cost several lives. This batter