Once more I thought of “blind death.” The Germans who had set light to the fuse at tea-time were doubtless sleeping the sleep of men who have worked well and earned their rest. And here.... They knew nothing of it, would never know whom they had slain. And I remembered the night Scott and I had watched our big mine go up. “Wonderful,” we had said, “magnificent.” And in the morning the R.E. officer had told us that we had smashed all their galleries up, and that they would not trouble us there for a fortnight at least. “A certain man drew a bow at a venture,” I said again, vaguely remembering something, but stiffening myself suddenly, and stifling my imagination. I met Edwards by the dug-out as he returned from inspecting the Lewis guns. “Remember,” I said, “I told you the ‘First Hundred Thousand’ leaves out bits? Did you see those R.E.’s who were gassed?” Edwards nodded. “Well,” I added, “that’s a thing it leaves out.” CHAPTER XIV BILLETS I. MORNING “Two hours’ pack drill, and pay for a new handle,” I said. “Right--Turn!” said the sergeant-major. “Right--Wheel--Quick--March! Get your equipment on and join your platoon at once.” This last sentence was spoken in a quick undertone, as the prisoner stepped out of the door into the road. I was filling up the column headed “Punishment awarded” on a buff-coloured Army Form, to which I appended my signature. The case just dealt with was a very dull and commonplace one, a man having “lost” his entrenching tool handle. Most of these “losses” occurred in trenches, and were dealt with the first morning in billets at company orderly-room. This man had been engaged on special fatigue work the last few days; hence the reason why the loss had not been checked before, and came up on this last morning in billets. “No more prisoners?” I asked the company sergeant-major.