Lieutenant May took us out over the top on schedule time, and we
started for the position to be taken. We walked erect but in the
strictest silence for about a thousand yards. At that time the
distances were great on the Somme, as the Big Push was in full
swing, and the advance had been fast. Trench systems had been
demolished, and in many places there were only shell holes and
isolated pieces of trench defended by machine guns. The whole
movement had progressed so far that the lines were far apart and
broken, so much so that in many cases the fighting had come back to
the open work of early in the war.
Poking along out there, I had the feeling that we were an awfully
long way from the comparative safety of our main body--too far away
for comfort. We were. Any doubts on the matter disappeared before
morning.
At the end of the thousand yards Lieutenant May gave the signal to
lie down. We lay still half an hour or so and then crawled forward.
Fortunately there was no barbed wire, as all entanglements had been
destroyed by the terrific bombardment that had been going on for
weeks. The Germans made no attempt to repair it nor did we.
We crawled along for about ten minutes, and the Lieutenant passed
the word in whispers to get ready, as we were nearly on them. Each
of us got out a bomb, pulled the pin with our teeth, and waited for
the signal. It was fairly still. Away off to the rear, guns were
going, but they seemed a long way off. Forward, and away off to
the right beyond the Wood, there was a lot of rifle and machine-gun
fire, and we could see the sharp little lavender stabs of flame
like electric flashes. It was light enough so that we could see
dimly.
Just ahead we could hear the murmur of the Huns as they chatted in
the trench. They hadn't seen us. Evidently they didn't suspect and
were more or less careless.
The Lieutenant waited until the sound of voices was a little louder
than before, the Boches evidently being engaged in a fireside
argument of some kind, and then he jumped to his feet shouting,
"Now then, my lads. All together!"
We came up all standing and let 'em go. It was about fifteen yards
to Fritz, and that is easy to a good bomber, as my men all were. A
yell of surprise and fright went up from the trench, and they
started to run. We spread out so as to get room, gave them another
round of Millses, and rushed.
The trench wasn't really a trench at all. It was the remains of a
perfectly good one, but had been bashed all to pieces, and was now
only five or six shell craters connected by the ruined traverses.
At no point was it more than waist high and in some places only
knee high. We swarmed into what was left of the trench and after
the Heinies. There must have been forty of them, and it didn't take
them long to find out that we were only a dozen. Then they came
back at us. We got into a crooked bit of traverse that was in
relatively good shape and threw up a barricade of sandbags. There
was any amount of them lying about.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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