One  cursed  him  and  told  him  to  come  inside  out  of  it  , as  if  "  it  "  had  been  rain .sx   He  didn't  ;  he  walked  on .sx   One  or  two  other  shells  whistled  and  exploded  in  the  field  short  of  him .sx   Had  the  enemy  spotted  him   ?sx   Couldn't  have  done .sx   
Just  blind  shots .sx   And  the  area  was  large  and  he  was  small .sx   Odds  largely  in  his  favour  ;  but  , of  course  , the  odds  in  your  favour  were  considerably  diminished  if  you  took  the  chance  often  enough   .sx ..  say  , every  day  for  six  months   .sx ..  or  twelve  months .sx   And  the  Scotties  had  mostly  been  out  six  or  twelve  months .sx   So  they  joked  grimly   .sx ..  and  took  what  cover  there  was .sx   That  , no  doubt  , was  how  you  developed  mentally .sx   However  , he  had  best  be  cheerful  while  he  could  , while  his  nerves  were  steady  and  sound .sx   When  they  ceased  to  be   .sx ..  My  God   !sx   that  would  be  hell .sx   Hell .sx   That  was  the  word  on  every  soldier's  lips .sx   They  said  , "  It  was  hell  , mate  , " or  "  They  gave  us  hell  , " or  "  We  let  'em  have  hell .sx   " Yes  , it  would  be  hell  all  right  when  your  nerves  went   :sx   when  you  were  terrified  , and  afraid  of  letting  anybody  know  you  were  terrified .sx   That  is  , if  you  could  hide  it   ?sx   Could  you   ?sx   He  doubted  it .sx   So  that  it  might  be  that  if  the  war  lasted  long  enough  , if  you  too  , lasted  long  enough  , you  would  commit  some  awful  piece  of  cowardice  that  would  warrant  your  being  shot .sx   Shot  by  your  own  side  , because  you  were  a  menace  , a  danger   .sx ..  better  out  of  the  way .sx   It  had  happened  , of  course   :sx   bound  to  happen .sx   That  was  "  some  "  reward  for  your  patriotism  , by  God   !sx   Oh  , he  could  see  it  happening   !sx   Some  poor  devil  who  knew  full  well  , perhaps  , that  he  ought  never  to  have  been  a  soldier  , but  who  was  swayed  into  it  , or  set  his  teeth  and  decided  to  have  a  go  , to  do  his  best  , do  his  bit .sx   Was  tried  in  the  fire  , and  the  steel  bent  , the  blade  broke   :sx   and  he  ran  away   :sx   and  was  duly  shot .sx   Shot  at  dawn .sx   That  most  unearthly  hour  , when  the  mists  rose  and  the  smell  of  dead  men  was  sickly  sweet .sx   By  God  , he  would  go  mad   .sx
if  that  happened  to  him .sx   And  it  might  happen .sx   If  the  war  lasted  long  enough   .sx ..  and  if  he  lasted  long  enough .sx   He  wondered  what  they  told  your  relatives  on  those  occasions   ?sx   "  Killed  in  action  "  perhaps .sx   But  dishonoured  , dishonoured  , dishonoured   !sx   And  yet  , was  it   ?sx   No  , by  God  , it  wasn't   !sx   It  was  as  if  a  puny  fellow  tackled  a  great  hulking  bully  and  got  soundly  whacked  , dragged  in  the  mud .sx   Not  dishonoured  so  long  as  your  soul  was  clean  and  your  spirit  had  tried  , tried  and  been  broken .sx   But  what  would  they  tell  your  relatives   ?sx   What  would  they  tell  Stella   .sx ..  supposing  he  , Hardcastle   .sx ..  He  began  to  hope  that  a  shell  would  come  over  to  test  him .sx   Damn  it  , mustn't  get  morbid   .sx ..  or  think  too  much .sx   After  all  , the  night  was  beautiful   .sx ..  those  cool  , pale  stars .sx ..  And  you  never  felt  the  bullet  that  did  its  work  , that  found  its  billet   :sx   so  Robin  said .sx ..  He  climbed  back  up  the  ladder .sx   
"  Hullo  , Bud  , " said  Whitman's  cheery  voice .sx   "  Come  and  have  some  chocolate   :sx   bon  stuff .sx   Made  it  with  that  piece  Stella  sent  you   :sx   give  her  my  love  , you  old  sweat .sx   Here  , have  some  Ideal  milk  with  it  , beaucoup  there .sx   Great  war  , ain't  it   ?sx   "   .sx


That  part  of  the  Cambrin  Front  known  as  the  Brick-fields  introduced  them  to  minenwerfers   :sx   they  called  them  "  minnies .sx   " Hardcastle  learnt  that  noise  may  have  a  more  devastating  effect  on  your  morale  than  an  accurate  estimation  of  dangers .sx   The  tearing  , crashing  roar  of  a  minnie  was  horrible  in  the  extreme .sx   They  made  a  crater  five  to  ten  yards  across  ;  if  they  hit  a  trench  they  demolished  it  -  and  all  in  it  or  about  it .sx   It  was  a  pleasant  German  custom  to  toss  them  over  after  breakfast .sx   You  could  imagine  the  German  minenwerfer  experts  yawning  and  saying  , "  Dear  me   !sx   A  trifle  liverish  this  morning .sx   Must  have  some  exercise .sx   Let's  set  off  a  few  squibs .sx   " And  shortly  afterwards  a  succession  of  whistle  blasts  in   .sx
Hardcastle's  neighbourhood  would  spread  the  news  that  the  ugly  canister-shaped  engines  were  being  tossed  into  the  air  and  were  wobbling  over  in  a  devilish  , drunken  lurch  towards  the  British  lines .sx   So  far  as  Hard-castle  could  see  we  were  thoroughly  nonplussed  by  them .sx   We  had  nothing  to  hurl  back  in  return  -  and  we  dodged  them  as  best  we  could .sx   The  plan  devised  was  to  post  sentries  who  blew  whistles .sx   Two  blasts  for  a  bomb  to  the  right  , one  blast  for  a  bomb  to  the  left .sx   But  , as  Thorndike  was  at  pains  to  point  out  , one  sentry's  right  was  another's  left  , so  that  you  got  the  same  bomb  heralded  by  two  whistles  and  by  one  whistle  , and  in  consequence  men  running  in  all  directions  , colliding  and  falling  over  one  another  ;  and  if  you  happened  to  be  up  on  a  working  party  carrying  planks  and  wearing  a  long  waterproof  cape  , the  spectacle  of  men  treading  , as  they  ran  , on  their  capes  and  falling  in  the  mud  with  planks  atop  of  them  was  most  diverting  -  to  the  gods  above .sx   But  Hardcastle  and  company  ran  and  tripped  and   .sx ..  yes  , they  laughed .sx   The  bubble  or  whatever  it  may  be  that  , when  broken  , spurts  laughter  into  your  eyes  and  your  bowels  so  that  you  are  convulsed  functioned  a  yard  from  death  quite  readily .sx   Nevertheless  , Hardcastle  was  alarmed   :sx   he  had  , as  they  had  begun  to  phrase  it  , "  the  wind  up .sx   " Men  said  to  one  another  , "  I  can  stand  anything  but  minnies .sx   " But  Hardcastle  didn't  find  them  so  totally  awful  at  night  , perhaps  because  watching  their  fiery  tails  arcing  through  the  night  commanded  your  interest  -  they  followed  one  another  in  "  column  of  route  "  as  the  description  had  it  -  or  perhaps  because  by  night  you  had  grown  more  accustomed  , were  less  on  edge .sx   It  was  astonishing  how  many  might  drop  in  your  vicinity  without  any  serious  damage   :sx   but  the  law  of  averages  worked  at  last  -  a  sergeant  killed  ;  one  or  two  wounded .sx   Word  came  round   :sx   men  spoke  of  it  in  subdued  tones .sx   Hardcastle  never  saw  the  dead  ;  he  walked  past  the  crater  ;  it   .sx
reminded  him  somehow  of  a  slag-heap   .sx ..  one  of  those  curious  tricks  of  the  mind  ;  it  was  an  eyesore  , an  offence  against  Nature  , disembowelling  the  earth   .sx ..  and  disembowelling  men .sx   He  had  seen  two  men  dead  the  previous  day .sx   They  had  been  up  on  a  working  party  doing  gentle  fatigue  -  carrying  gas  cylinders  that  weighed  one  and  a  half  hundredweights  and  , standing  in  the  support  lines  , had  seen  a  mine  go  up .sx   It  was  as  though  you  saw  an  eruption  on  the  films  -  a  quivering  of  the  earth  that  shook  beneath  their  feet  and  beneath  the  hands  that  rested  on  the  trench-sides  , a  rending  of  the  ground  , a  column  of  steam  and  smoke  a  hundred  feet  high  , and  then  , as  if  answering  a  signal  , a  crackle  of  rifle-fire  , vicious  , viperous  , and  the  rattle  of  machine-guns  , the  incredulous  whistle  and  crash  of  shells  , the  boom  of  bombs  , the  hurtle  of  death  at  man  in  jagged  shape  and  frightening  sound  , and  now  the  hiss  and  fall  of  bits  of  metal  all  about  you .sx   Hardcastle  and  his  companions  were  "  out  of  it  , " and  they  were  glad  of  it   :sx   at  least  , he  was .sx   He  had  no  urge  to  dash  to  the  mine  crater  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away .sx   Not  their  job .sx   Maybe  theirs  would  come  to-morrow .sx   So  , the  gas  cylinders  deposited  in  proper  place  , they  trudged  stolidly  back  , silent  , occupied  with  watching  the  feet  of  the  men  in  front  that  you  might  avoid  the  pitfalls  he  avoided  -  or  didn't  avoid .sx   And  then  as  they  emerged  from  the  trench  they  saw  it  -  the  shattered  house  , window-frames  still  burning  , woodwork  scorched  black  , immense  holes  rent  in  walls  ;  the  roadway  with  three  large  holes  , a  motor-car  , its  screen  broken  , bonnet  bent  ;  a  grocer's  cart  toppling  on  to  the  horse  that  , foul  and  bloody  , was  collapsed  dead  , in  the  shafts .sx   And  on  the  pavement  two  huddled  , nameless  things  , wearing  equipment  , rent  in  pieces   .sx ..  foul  , unspeakably  foul .sx   The  sight  was  an  offence .sx   Why  weren't  they  buried  , at  once  , at  once  , made  decent  , the  place  cleansed   ?sx   This  was  what  was  happening  then  , when  you  heard  the  guns  booming  , saw  the  horizon   .sx
flickering  with  dancing  flashes  , looked  on  it  and  thought  it  had  beauty .sx   Beauty   !sx   At  the  other  end   .sx ..  where  the  shells  fell   .sx ..  what  was  there   ?sx   
Whitman  had  said  , when  they  had  looked  at  the  stew  and  left  it  untouched  , "  Come  on  , old  man .sx   I  know  where  they  keep  some  decent  wine .sx   " Thank  God  for  Whitman  , he  thought  , for  someone  who  could  suffer  as  he  suffered .sx   But  they  had  recovered  swiftly  ;  marvellous  how  swiftly  they  had  recovered .sx   At  tea-time  they  had  made  up  for  lunch  , and  joked  and  gossiped .sx   Someone  had  sent  Whitman  La  Vie  Parisienne  , and  they  cut  out  the  pictures  and  stuck  them  on  the  walls  , these  audacious  ladies  clad  in  strips  of  yellow  that  hid  no  charms  , and  sighed  over  them  and  talked  of  when  they  would  get  leave .sx   All  his  high-falutin'  notions  of  sticking  close  to  the  war  , not  wanting  to  go  back  to  the  softness  of  pseudo-civilisation  , where  were  they   ?sx   Gone  west .sx   Gone  west .sx   Where  did  that  phrase  come  from   ?sx   He  never  asked  , no  one  ever  asked .sx   You  just  accepted  it   :sx   you  knew  what  it  meant .sx   The  day  went  west  with  the  going  down  of  the  sun .sx   Men  who  died  "  went  west  "  too .sx   The  sergeant  of  his  company  had  gone  west .sx   You  began  to  talk  like  a  parrot  , confining  yourself  to  the  language  you  heard .sx   Men  who  never  swore  , or  very  rarely  till  they  came  to  France  , had  oaths  on  their  lips  all  day   :sx   not  always  offensive  or  else  offensive  ones  , in  some  mouths  , used  amusingly .sx   Morton  , for  example  , could  curse  immoderately  and  make  you  laugh .sx   "  How  the  bloody-hell  are  you  , old  man   ?sx   "  he  would  inquire  in  the  gentlest  manner .sx   Or  giggle  and  exclaim  "  Ee  , isn't  it  -  awful  this  morning   ?sx   "  Or  announce  , "  I  say  , you  fellows  , the  troops  have  bloody-well  got  permission  to  breathe .sx   Jesus  -  Christ  , yes  , it's  a  fact .sx   In  Divisional  Orders .sx   " Or  "  Old  Tin-ribs  ordered  us  to  put  our  blasted  gas-masks  on  last  night  and  man  the  firestep .sx   It's  a  fact .sx   Silliest  thing  you  ever  heard  of .sx   The  wind  was  coming  the  wrong  bloody  way .sx   He'd  smelled  the  -  latrine   .sx
as  he  came  along .sx   He   !sx   He   !sx   "  And  Morton  would  break  into  peals  of  infectious  laughter .sx   


Hardcastle  expected  to  dream  about  war  horrors  , about  blood  and  death  , but  he  never  did .sx   He  wondered  why   :sx   was  it  because  he  was  too  tired  out  when  sleep  came  , or  was  it  that  he  had  become  mulish  , unimaginative   ?sx   Someone  , he  remembered  , once  said  , "  Tell  me  what  your  dreams  are  and  I  will  tell  you  what  you  will  achieve .sx   " Well  , he  had  no  dreams  , so  perhaps  he  would  achieve  nothing .sx   He  slept  the  guileless  sleep  of  a  child   :sx   among  straw  in  barns  , on  earthen  floors  of  out-houses  , on  firesteps  , in  cubby-holes  where  he  lay  heaped  up  like  a  drunken  man  , miles  away  from  the  enemy  or  only  twenty  yards  away  -  it  was  all  one :sx   he  slept  well .sx   He  began  to  enjoy  sleep  as  a  connoisseur  enjoys  wine .sx   He  savoured  it  , wriggled  with  delight  in  his  blankets  , sighed  about  it  with  pleasure .sx   When  he  came  out  of  trenches  having  grown  used  to  sleeping  in  snatches  of  two  or  three  hours  , he  commonly  awoke  half-way  through  the  night .sx   He  was  glad  to  wake  and  lie  bliss-fully  there  for  a  few  minutes  enjoying  himself  before  he  dropped  off  again .sx   Not  that  he  was  long  in  rousing  when  summoned .sx   He  developed  the  faculty  of  sitting  up  wide-awake  instantly .sx   Not  so  Whitman .sx   Whitman  was  the  slowest  man  in  awaking  he  had  ever  seen .sx   They  would  be  roused  for  sentry-duty  , and  Whitman  would  reach  the  firestep  blinking  his  eyes  and  muttering  to  himself  , fractious  and  ill-tempered  , his  eyes  and  mind  still  full  of  sleep .sx   The  danger  of  dozing  off  again  was  very  real  , especially  in  the  hours  after  midnight  and  before  dawn  , when  strength  seemed  to  have  oozed  from  your  veins  as  though  you  were  drained  of  blood .sx   Then  they  would  sometimes  prop  a  bayonet  beneath  their  chins  to  prick  themselves  into  wakefulness  if  they  slumbered .sx