“Git the hell away from here or you’ll never git anything to drink. Who the devil went after this water, anyway?” Sergeant Harriman stood in the background, much to the surprise of Hicks, who had expected him to rush forward demanding that he be given his canteen first of all. The canteens were passed out and Harriman’s was the next to the last one. “Thank you, Hicks,” said Harriman warmly. “Go easy on that water now; we can’t go running to that town every five minutes, you men,” Sergeant Ryan called. Along the ravine the water gurgled from the canteens into the mouths of the men. Their most pressing want satisfied, their thoughts soon turned to the matter of food, which they had been without for two days, save for the cans of salmon which Hicks and Pugh had salvaged from the dead men’s packs. After expressing among themselves their desire for food they raised their voices and began to lament: “What makes the wildcats wild?” “Because they’re hungry.” “Why are they hungry?” “Because there ain’t no chow.” “Why ain’t they got no chow?” “Because they ain’t got nobody to look out for them.” “Pipe down, up there,” scolded Lieutenant Bedford. “If the ration detail don’t come along pretty soon, we’ll send one of our own after chow.” Hours of quiet passed, while the men silently lay in their burrows in the ravine, listening to the cheerful chirp of the crickets, and trying to relax their nerves which had been tautened almost to breaking by the terrific barrage of the early afternoon. “Je’s, I wish we had some more of that salmon, Pugh. We were crazy to give it all away.” “No, we wasn’t. These mamma’s boys’d starve to death if somebody didn’t pr’vide for ’em.” While they were talking, Sergeant Harriman, stealing along the ravine, came to their burrow: “Here’s some Argentina beef that you fellows can have some of. I got three cans of it.” It was a little blue can, and when Pugh lifted a piece of it to his mouth he shuddered. “Smells like some’p’n you’ve stepped in. Mah guts can’t go that stuff.” “Yes, they can,” Harriman encouraged. “It’s not half bad if you don’t breathe while you’re chewing it. I’ve been eating it all day.” Pugh, holding his nostrils together, gulped down a handful of the evil-smelling food. “That’s not so bad, Hicksy. Try some of it.” He passed over the can to Hicks. * * * * * In the early morning the German lines were represented by a black strip of woods, some five hundred yards in the distance, that looked a narrow piece of jet-black lace through the gray dawn. To the men on watch it was inconceivable that such a calm, almost sketched scene existed so near to them. The brain-piercing explosions of the shells still remembered, the calmness of the surroundings was unreal. Quiet belonged to another world.