World War, 1914-1918 -- Personal narratives, English
When there was nothing further that we could do, we regained our
frightened mounts and resumed our journey. Such a road of confusion! The
ground being wet, turning the chalky earth into white, the moving,
wriggling vehicles of every kind and description afforded a magnificent
target for the marksmen of the air and casualties here, there and
everywhere along the road was the order of the night.
A short distance along, the sounds of battle in the air reached our
ears, and looking up I saw two shadows passing between our eyes and
moon, then two more. Suddenly our searchlights opened up, and there, in
full view, were four planes, two British and two German, engaged in one
of those struggles which practically forms the only feature in this war
around which is thrown any of the elements of romance that appeals to
all the instinct of a vivid imagination. It was a fair field and no
favor. The battle had been on about three or four minutes when one of
the British birds landed on Fritz, driving him down nose first. He could
not regain control and he dashed headlong into the earth to destruction.
Our fellow then rose and went to the assistance of his pal and they made
short work of the second Taube.
That is the only time I have ever witnessed a scene of that kind under
those circumstances, and it is a rare occurrence indeed that one has the
privilege of seeing such a struggle with such a background.
We were now among the batteries; to the right and left of us the guns
had commenced speaking to the German roads, and the ammunition dumps
there, in retaliation for the destruction of our gun-food; the
anti-aircraft guns were also getting into the chorus, together with the
pom-poms, and the whole swelled into a mighty chorus of sound that
filled every crack and crevice in the air, making one feel as if he were
inhaling sound rather than ozone.
As we neared Pozieres a 9.02 howitzer gun on our left fired a shell that
exploded in the gun and blew the gun and crew in all directions. The
shell also started some ammunition going that was lying about and it was
under the greatest difficulty that the men, whose lives were not lost in
the first explosion, managed to get away. The men were trying to
manhandle the remainder of the guns of the battery and we jumped off our
horses, fastened them to an old wagon lying in the ditch, and headed
over to lend a hand. With much tugging and perspiring we saved three of
the guns.
Explosions of these tremendous projectiles were deafening in the
extreme, and here there were two or three of them exploding at once in
our immediate neighborhood.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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