The smoke in the air was stifling them, burning out their lungs. Their eyes were shot with blood, and tears streamed unceasingly down their cheeks. Their throats felt as if they had swallowed handfuls of fine dust. “I’ll choke, I’ll die,” Hicks thought with every breath. He felt for his mask, knocked off his helmet, and adjusted the mask to his head. Frenzied, he bit his teeth into the hard-rubber mouthpiece, and breathed deeply. Oh, what a relief; the picrine could not penetrate the chemicals of the mask! He breathed again; gulped, rather. Immediately his throat and lungs were on fire. The mask was more of a hindrance than a help. Incomprehensibly, the bombardment stopped. Men ran from their burrows and clambered over the ravine in an effort to escape the blinding, choking smoke. “Stop, men,” Lieutenant Bedford called hoarsely. “Come back here and be ready to stand off an attack.” Reluctantly they returned and placed themselves in a position from which they could fire across the field. Hicks drew out his canteen. It was empty. “Water, got any water, Pugh?” “No, jist drained the last drop.” Hicks walked down the ravine. “Anybody got any water to spare?” No one had. No one had any water. He walked back beside Pugh. As he approached, Pugh called: “Oh, Hicksy, you’d better go over and ask them Dutchmen for another gun. One of their shells swiped that pretty one you had up here.” The Maxim which Hicks had diligently striven to get into shape was gone—where, no one knew. “I don’t care. If they come over now I wouldn’t have strength enough to pull a trigger. I’m all in, Pugh.” Fearfully the men waited for the attack. It grew dark, but none came. Out in the field a cow slowly moved across the broken ground. In the dusk Lieutenant Bedford was stumbling along the ravine, calling for volunteers to go on a water detail. From one of the holes King Cole’s voice croaked: “I’ll go, lieutenant. I’ll go.” He sounded like a bullfrog. “I’ll go, too; be glad to,” Hicks offered. “God, me too,” complemented Pugh. “I only want two men. Pugh, you stay here. All right, Hicks and Cole, collect up the canteens and then I’ll tell you where to go.” “Je’s, these canteens make a lot of noise. The Squareheads can hear us for a mile. Hadn’t we better put something around them?” Hicks asked Lieutenant Bedford. “Yes, have the men unhook their canteen covers and put them on. Now be careful when you go, for the German lines are only a few hundred yards. You follow this ravine until you come to a place where it splits. Take the one to the right. It leads into a little town where there’s a pump.”