“Now look ’ere,” he said rapidly. “You must fix this quick. This show, this push, advance, attack, is runnin’ to a set time-table. Comprenny? At quarter-past—see, quarter-past”—and he thrust out the watch marking eleven minutes past—“the barrage, the shellin’, begins, an’ we start on for the next objective——” “Start what?” interjected the interpreter. “Objective,” yelled Ackroyd angrily. “Don’t you know what a blazing objective is? The sunk road is our nex’ objective line. D’you know the sunk road?” “Ja, ja, I knows the road,” agreed the German. Then the officer interrupted, and the interpreter turned to explain matters to him. “I cannot it explain this objective,” he said. “Mine officer what is it asks?” Ackroyd swore lustily and full-bloodedly, but bit short his oaths. There was no time for spare language now. “See here, tell ’im this quick. A objective is the line we’re told to take, an’ goes an’ takes. The Commander-in-Chief, ‘Aig hisself, says where the objective is, an’ he marks up a line on the map to show where we goes to an’ where we stops. There’s a final objective where we finishes each push. D’you savvy that? Every bit o’ the move is made at the time laid down in attack orders. You can’t alter that, an’ I can’t, nor nobody else can’t. Old ’Aig ’e just draws ‘is blue-black line on the map and ses, ‘There’s your final objective’; an’ we just goes an’ takes it. Now ’ave you got all that?” The two Germans spoke rapidly for a moment, but the Corporal interrupted as he noted the rising sound of the gun-fire and the rapidly-increasing rush of our shells overhead. “Here, ’nuff o’ this!” he shouted. “There’s no time—there’s the barrage droppin’ again. Call your men in if your goin’ to; or push off back an’ we’ll go ’n fetch ’em ourselves. You must get back the both o’ you. We’re movin’ on.” And he made a significant motion with the bayonet. As they rose crouching the roar of gun-fire rose to a pitch of greater and more savage intensity; above their heads rushed and shrieked a whirlwind of passing shells; out over the open beyond them the puffing shell-bursts steadied down to a shifting rolling wall of smoke. And out of this smoke wall there came running, first in ones and twos, and then in droves, a crowd of grey-clad figures, all with hands well over their heads, some with jerking and waving dirty white rags. At the same moment supports came struggling in to our line, and the Corporal made haste to hand over to their officer. The prisoners were being hastily collected for removal to the rear, and our line rising to advance, when the interpreter caught at the Corporal. “Mine officer he say,” he shouted, “where is it this fine ol’ objective?”