"Pass along the word for every man to stand to," I called, jumping to my feet. "Sergeant X," I said to the N.C.O. next to me, "go down the trench and see that every man is awake." Pht! pht! pht! I ducked down into the trench. Half a dozen bullets came singing through the edge. There was sharp firing now on our right. The next company was evidently engaged. Away beyond the rifle fire had swelled into one big crash of sound. Suddenly a hot fire broke out in front of us. To the left I heard our two Maxims, like watchdogs, barking viciously. It was a night attack, then--the enemy had come up to have a go at us. "Quick--get into the trench and line along to your left. Where do you want me?" I looked up and saw Mulligan hurrying his men into my trench. He had been sent up with his platoon from the reserve company to strengthen the line. "Anywhere you like, old boy," I called back; "but I should get down out of that quick." The bullets were literally singing round him. Our men were now all standing up to the parapet, firing into the night. I craned forward, trying to see in the darkness. A bullet lopped a branch off my ear, and I withdrew my head hurriedly. "They're all awake, sir," said Sergeant X, as he returned to his place beside me. "So it seems," I answered, as the din from our rifles swelled into a deafening volume. "Here, mind where you are pointing that gun," I said to the man on my left, as he brought down a bit of the hedge in front of my nose in his effort to get off five rounds in as many seconds. "No. 5 platoon are running short of ammunition," the word came down the trench. "Tell No. 6 to pass along any they have to spare and save their fire as much as possible," I ordered. It was going to be a tight business this, with the enemy's fire growing hotter every minute and our ammunition supply running short. Again the message came down, "No. 5 platoon are running short of ammunition." I looked at Sergeant X. We had already sent men back for fresh supplies. "I'll go back, sir," said Sergeant X. It seemed impossible for him to get out of the trench and cross the bullet-swept open ground. Still, it was the only thing to be done. I nodded. Grasping his rifle, he turned to clamber out of the trench. Just as he was going a voice from behind called, "Where will you have this, sir?" There was a thump behind, and two men rolled over into the trench dragging a box of ammunition after them. They sat up and mopped their foreheads. "Lord! it's like hail out there," said one of them breathlessly, "and that stuff weighs about a ton," pointing to the box of ammunition. "Well, come on, mate," and back they went out of the trench to the rear for more. Sergeant X and I wrenched the lid off the box of ammunition and started passing the bandoliers down the trench. "Pass these right along to No. 5 platoon," I ordered.