The Sergeant chuckled again, slapped his hands together. “I’ve been
havin’ that side of it back in the salient there for best part o’
two years, off and on. Fritz has been up top, keepin’ his feet dry
and watchin’ us gettin’ shelled an’ shot up an’ minnie-werfered to
glory—squattin’ up here, smokin’ his pipe an’ takin’ a pot-shot at us,
and watchin’ us through his field-glasses, just as he felt like. And
now it’s our turn. Don’t let me hear anybody talk about drivin’ the Hun
back for miles from here. I don’t want him to go back; I want him to
sit down there the whole darn winter, freezin’ an’ drownin’ to death
ten times a day. Fritz isn’t go in’ to like that—not any. I am, an’
that’s why I hung like grim death to this look-out point. This is where
we come in; this is _our_ turn!”
XVI
ACCORDING TO PLAN
“RATTY” TRAVERS dropped his load with a grunt of satisfaction, squatted
down on the ground, and tilting his shrapnel helmet back, mopped a
streaming brow. As the line in which he had moved dropped to cover,
another line rose out of the ground ahead of them and commenced to
push forward. Some distance beyond, a wave of kilted Highlanders
pressed on at a steady walk up to within about fifty paces of the
string of flickering, jumping white patches that marked the edge of the
“artillery barrage.”
Ratty Travers and the others of the machine-gun company being in
support had a good view of the lines attacking ahead of them.
“Them Jocks is goin’ along nicely,” said the man who had dropped beside
Ratty. Ratty grunted scornfully. “Beautiful,” he said. “An’ we’re
doin’ wonderful well ourselves. I never remember gettin’ over the No
Man’s Land so easy, or seein’ a trench took so quick an’ simple in my
life as this one we’re in; or seein’ a’tillery barrage move so nice an’
even and steady to time.”
“You’ve seed a lot, Ratty,” said his companion. “But you ain’t seed
everything.”
“That’s true,” said Ratty. “I’ve never seen a lot o’ grown men playin’
let’s-pretend like a lot of school kids. Just look at that fool wi’ the
big drum, Johnny.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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