When the Canadians first introduced bombing, the bombs were improvised out of jam tins, the fuses were cut according to the taste and judgment of the individual bomber, and, just when the bomb would explode, was more or less problematical. Frequently, the Germans have tossed our bombs back into our trenches before they went off. That was injurious and irritating. They can’t do that with a Mills grenade nor with any of the improved factory-made bombs, because the men know just how they are timed and are trained to know just how to throw them. The Germans used to work another little bomb trick of their own. They learned that our scouts and raiders were all anxious to get a German helmet as a souvenir. They’d put helmets on the ground in “No Man’s Land,” or in an advanced trench with bombs under them. In several cases, men looking for souvenirs suddenly became mere memories, themselves. In several raids, when bombing was new, the Canadians worked a trick on the Germans with extensively fatal effect. They tossed bombs into the German trenches with six-inch fuses attached. To the Germans they looked just like the other bombs we had been using, and, in fact they were--all but the fuses. Instead of having failed to continue burning, as the Germans thought, those fuses had never been lighted. They were instantaneous fuses. The ignition spark will travel through instantaneous fuse at the rate of about thirty yards a second. A German would pick up one of these bombs, select the spot where he intended to blow up a few of us with our own ammonal, and then light the fuse. After that there had to be a new man in his place. The bomb would explode instantly the long fuse was ignited. The next day when I got up after this disastrous raid, I said to my bunkie: “Got a fag?” (Fag is the Tommy’s name for a cigarette.) It’s never, “will you have a fag?” but always, “have you got a fag?” They are the inseparable companions of the men at the front, and you’ll see the soldiers go over the top with an unlit fag in their lips. Frequently, it is still there when their work is done. As we sat there smoking, my friend said: “Something sure raised hell with our calculations.” “Like those automatic self-cocking revolvers did with a Kentucky wedding when some one made a remark reflecting on the bride,” I replied. * * * * * It may be interesting to note that Corpl. Glass, Corpl. Charleson and Private (later Corpl.) Saunders have all since been “Killed in Action.” Charleson and Saunders the same morning I was wounded on the Somme, and Glass, Easter morning at Vimy Ridge, when the Canadians made their wonderful attack. CHAPTER IV SHIFTED TO THE SOMME