We would dodge for one but a half dozen might drop before we could look around. Deporte was buried by one explosion. I had to pull him out of the dirt. A big rock came flying down the trench, then a piece of timber four feet long. Two pieces of metal fell on my helmet which I picked up and have yet. They were burning hot, not iron or steel, but copper and nickel. At a shout in front, we grabbed grenades and saw to the left a crowd of men running toward our lines, French and German. Later we learned how eighteen Frenchmen went over to the German blockhouse across the way, gave the forty occupants a chance to surrender, of which eleven took advantage. Revolvers and bombs finished the others. Two Frenchmen, both my friends, were wounded. The Germans did not seem to like it. They got more angry and threw all kinds of metal at our dodging heads. An orderly rushed around the corner and yelled: “Fall back, orders from the capitaine.” He scurried away. We found a sap. I was thirty feet down when I looked up and saw Deporte standing at the opening unbuttoning his vest. Steam and perspiration formed a circle around him, such as is seen about an aeroplane flying high against the sun. About thirty feet down into that sap the steps turned a right angle, then again changed direction. We sat beyond the second turning, lighting a candle as fast as the inrush of air, made by the bursting shells, blew it out. A couple of hours later, when we looked for the hill we had held, it was gone. Immense craters yawned where had been our regular trenches. The rows of trenches were as waves of an angry sea, while the ground between was pitted and scarred beyond recognition. CHAPTER X CHAMPAGNE ATTACK The night before the attack of September 25, 1915, Bouligny and I went over to Battalion C. He picked up a piece of cheese that Morlae had. Munching away, he demanded, “Where did you get this?” “In Suippe.” “I thought we were forbidden to go out.” “We are.” “How did you get by?” “I told the sentry I did not speak French, showed him my old Fourth of July pass, and walked through.” Bouligny said: “Well, we will eat this cheese so they’ll have no evidence against you.” Morlae replied: “We shall need somebody to help carry the load we have stacked up.” “What have we got?” inquired Casey. “Two canteens of wine instead of one.” “Good,” said Casey. “And 250 rounds of cartridges instead of 120,” called Nelson. “And a steel helmet, instead of a cloth cap,” from Dowd. “And four days’ reserve of food instead of two,” added King. “And a new knife for the nettoyers” (moppers-up), put in Scanlon. “And a square white patch of cloth sewed on our backs, so our own artillerymen can recognize and not blow us up,” finished John Laurent. “I’d rather be here, leaning against this tree,” said Chatcoff, “than in little old New York, backed against a telephone pole, trying to push it into the North River.”