"Turn in, you fellows," said Sergeant Ferris. "No more going out to-night! Sorry for young Bartlett, but you know what the Colonel said." "'Ow about our relief, sergeant?" enquired George Anderson. "Thought the Wheatshires were to be sent back last night?" "Don't know as you've much cause to grumble," replied the N.C.O., "seeing that you haven't been twenty-four hours in the firing trench. Some of the boys have had six days of it." "Seems like twenty-four months, sergeant," continued Ginger. "P'r'aps; but you're a glutton for going out over No Man's Land," said Ferris. "You've no call to complain that it hasn't been exciting enough." "A chap must do something to keep himself warm," groused the private, as he followed Setley and Alderhame to their now depleted dug-out. CHAPTER VII THE FIRST ADVANCE "MY eye, you chaps! Come out and have a look," exclaimed Penfold, who, having gone to draw rations for the rest of the occupants of the dug-out, had just returned with a generous quantity of tea, bacon, and comparatively fresh loaves. "Look at what?" asked Alderhame, still stretched on his bed of damp straw. "The dawn----?" "At what those strafed Huns have done," declared Penfold. "If it's young Sidney they've been doing in there'll be trouble," declared Alderhame. The quartette left their subterranean retreat and made their way to the fire-trench. By means of a trench periscope they surveyed the hostile lines. Above the sand-bags was a rough notice-board on which was chalked: "OTHER COMRADS WELKOME." A fusillade of rifle bullets quickly demolished the offending board, but almost immediately it was replaced by another: "WHEN ARE YOU ENGLANDER COMING? WE ARE TIRED OF WATEING FOR THE ADVANCE PROMISED." This, too, was speedily shot to pieces, and having let off a considerable quantity of "hot air" the Tommies returned to their breakfasts. At ten o'clock the men crowded into the fire-trench. Although no information had been given out concerning the revised arrangements for the attack the men instinctively realized that the crucial moment was at hand. Suddenly the desultory cannonade gave place to a violent artillery bombardment, to which the German guns could do little or nothing in reply. Admirably registered, their range being regulated either by observation officers at isolated posts or else from the aeroplanes that hovered overhead, the shells battered the Hun wire entanglements and first-line trenches almost out of recognition. The air was filled with dust and smoke--red, yellow, and green in colour--while through the clouds of vapour could be discerned the dismembered bodies of German soldiers hurled twenty feet or more into the air by the terrific force of the exploding missiles.