"We're about all in, I b'lieve," he said. "Five minutes ago we passed
word to the flanks to fall back in ten minutes. What? Yes, it's thick.
I don't know how many men we've lost hanging on, and I suppose we'll
lose as many again taking back the trench we're to give up. What's
that? No. I don't see how reënforcements could be here yet. How long
ago you say you passed orders for them to move up? An hour ago! That's
wrong, because the messengers can't have been back--telephone message?
That's a lot less than an hour ago. I sent it myself no more than half
an hour since. Oo-oo! did you get that bump? Dunno, couple o' big
shells or something dropped just outside. I can 'ardly 'ear you.
There's a most almighty row going on all round. They must be charging,
I think, or our front line's fallen back, because the rifles is going
nineteen to the dozen, a-a-ah! They're getting stronger too, and it
sounds like a lot more bombs going; hold on, there's that blighting
maxim again."
He stopped speaking while upstairs the maxim clattered off belt after
belt of cartridges. The other signalers were shuffling their feet
anxiously and looking about them.
"Are we going to stick it here?" said one. "Didn't the sergeant say
something about 'opping it?"
"If he did," said the other, "he hasn't given any orders that I've
heard. I suppose he'll come back and do that, and we've just got to
carry on till then."
The men had to shout now to make themselves heard to each other above
the constant clatter of the maxim and the roar of rifle fire. By now
they could hear, too, shouts and cries and the trampling rush of many
footsteps. The signaler spoke into his instrument again.
"I think the line's fallen back," he said. "I can hear a heap o' men
running about there outside, and now I suppose us here is about due to
get it in the neck."
There was a scuffle, a rush, and a plunge, and the sergeant shot down
through the rear opening and out into the cellar.
"The flank trenches!" he shouted. "Quick! Get on to them--right and
left flank--tell them they're to stand fast. Quick, now, give them that
first. Stand fast; do not retire."
The signalers leaped to their instruments, buzzed off the call, and
getting through, rattled their messages off.
"Ask them," said the sergeant anxiously. "Had they commenced to
retire." He breathed a sigh of relief when the answers came. "No," that
the message had just stopped them in time.
"Then," he said, "you can go ahead now and tell them the order to
retire is cancelled, that the reënforcements have arrived, that they're
up in our forward line, and we can hold it good--oh!"
He paused and wiped his wet forehead; "you," he said, turning to the
other signaler, "tell them behind there the same thing."
"How in thunder did they manage it, sergeant?" said the perplexed
signaler. "They haven't had time since they got my message through."
"No," said the sergeant, "but they've just had time since they got
mine."
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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