And not only that, but it was extremely dangerous, because we were constantly under fire--sometimes we were fixing up wire within a few hundred yards of the German lines. Before getting to Ypres we had covering parties of infantry to protect us from snipers and sudden attacks; but at Ypres this protection was rarely given, because of the very heavy pressure on the firing line. We were ceaselessly sniped; but on the whole our casualties were remarkably few--but we were always known as the “Lucky Company.” In addition to doing this hard and dangerous work, we were roughing it with a vengeance. Our sleeping-quarters were dug-outs in a wood, and were lined with straw, when we could get it. The enemy always make a special point of “searching” woods with shells, and we were so situated that we were pestered day and night by the German gunners, who were hoping to draw our artillery fire and so locate our own batteries. Anything like rest was utterly out of the question owing to these artillery duels, which were the bane of our life. Silence was essential for our work, and we used muffled mauls--our big wooden mallets. One moonlight night we were going to our usual duties when a shell flew past, exploding with terrific force within ten paces of us. We took it to be one of the Germans’ random shots, but after going a short distance we had more shells bursting about us, and bullets whizzing, telling us that the enemy’s snipers were at it again. Once more we justified our nickname of the “Lucky Company,” for we had only one man hit--a fine chap, whose fighting qualities were well known to us, so we grinned when he said to me, after being struck on the shoulder, “I should like to have a look at that German, Bill!” In the moonlight we offered a first-rate target to the hidden German snipers, and they certainly ought to have done more with us than just hit one man; but compared with British soldiers, the Germans, with rare exceptions, are only “third-class” shots. I have mentioned this little affair chiefly by way of showing the constant danger to which field engineers are exposed. The Germans at that time had their eyes on us properly, and the very next day they did their level best to make up for their sorry performance in the moonlight. We had been told off to dig trenches for the infantry on our left, and we started out on the job. Rain had been falling heavily, the ground was like a quagmire, and we had to struggle through marshy ground and ploughed fields. This was bad enough in all conscience, but to help to fill the cup of our misery the German snipers got at us, and gave us what was really a constant hail of bullets. We floundered on, doing our dead best to reach a certain wood. After floundering for some time, we were ordered to halt. By that time we had reached the wood, and the fire was truly awful.