Great Britain -- Defenses; Imaginary wars and battles
"'Here comes another!' cried he, as he jumped down into the pit beside
me. 'We'll have plenty of them now.'
"So we did. Shell after shell came hissing and screaming at us over the
tree-tops in the gardens lower down the hill. Each one of them sounded
to me as if it were coming directly at my head, but one after another
passed over us to burst beyond. The gunners all crouched close to the
earthen parapet--and so did I. I am not ashamed to say so. My German
officer, however, occasionally climbed to the top of the embankment and
studied the prospect through his field-glasses. At length there was a
loud detonation, and a column of dirt and smoke in the garden next below
us. Then two shells struck the parapet of the gun-pit on our left almost
simultaneously. Their explosion was deafening, and we were covered with
the dust and stones they threw up.
"Immediately afterwards another shell passed so close over our heads
that I felt my hair lift. It just cleared the parapet and plunged into
the side of my house. A big hole appeared just to the right of the
dining-room window, and through it came instantaneously the loud bang of
the explosion. The glass was shattered in all the windows, and thick
smoke, white and black, came curling from every one of them.
"'The house is on fire!' I shouted, and sprang madly from the pit.
Heedless of the bombardment, I rushed into the building. Another crash
sounded overhead as I entered, and a blaze of light shone down the
stairway for an instant. Another projectile had found a billet in my
home. I tried to make my way to my study, but found the passage blocked
with fallen beams and ceiling. What with the smoke and dust, and the
blocking of some of the windows, it was very dark in the hall, and I got
quite a shock when, as I looked about me to find my way, I saw two red,
glittering specks shining over the top of a heap of débris. But the howl
that followed told me that they were nothing but the eyes of miserable
Tim, the cat, who, left behind, had been nearly frightened out of his
senses by the noise and concussion of the bursting shell. As I gazed at
him another projectile struck the house quite close to us. Tim was
simply smashed by a flying fragment. I was thrown down, and half-buried
under a shower of bricks and mortar. I think that I must have lost
consciousness for a time.
"The next thing I recollect was being dragged out into the garden by a
couple of Saxons. I had a splitting headache, and was very glad of a
glass of water that one of them handed to me. Their officer, who
appeared to be quite a decent fellow, offered me his flask.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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