After describing three successive German assaults, during
which searchlights and flashlights played important parts, the Corporal
notes:
2:25 A.M.--All the Corporals run back for ammunition. We had expended a
hundred rounds each. Away we go to our ammunition reserve, hid in a big
hole twenty yards to the rear, and we come running back and distribute
packages of cartridges. Each man cleans his rifle. An hour passes in
silence, broken only by the intermittent volleys and by the moaning of
the wounded and dying, some of whom exclaim: "Kamarades, kamarades,
drink, drink!" We will look after them when the day breaks.
3:15--Here they come at us again. Bullets whistle over our heads. Our
Captain passes the order in whispers not to open fire until the bouches
sales reach our wire network, then to shoot like hell. We smile grimly
and keep still. Every minute the firing draws nearer. We await behind
our loopholes, now and then risking a peep through them. These loopholes
are only fifteen or twenty centimeters wide, but if a bullet comes
through them it is a skull pierced and certain death. This silent
waiting is a tremendous mental and nervous strain.
We keep still as mice, with clenched teeth. Luminous fuses, like roman
candles, burst forth in every direction, exploding in dust over our
heads. A moment later a dazzling signal light rocket bursts fifty yards
high, just above our trenches, lighting them up as clear as day for
several seconds.
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