ted to
them as bare flesh is to bullet or cold steel; but they knelt or sat in
their places, and pushed their work into a speed that was only limited
by the need for absolute accuracy.

A shell burst close in rear of Number One gun, and the whirlwind of
splinters and bullets struck down half the detachment at a blow. The
fallen men were lifted clear, the remaining gunners took up their
appointed share of the lost men's duties, a shell was slung in, the
breech slammed shut, the firing-lever jerked--and Number One gun was in
action again and firing almost as fast as before. The sergeant in
charge of another gun was killed instantaneously by a shrapnel bullet
in the head. His place was taken by the next senior before the last
convulsive tremors had passed through the dead man's muscles; and the
gun kept on without missing a round.

The shell-fire grew more and more intense. The air was thick and
choking with smoke and chemical fumes, and vibrant with the rush and
shriek, of the shells, the hum of bullets, and the ugly whirr of
splinters, the crash of impacting shells, and ear-splitting crack of
the guns' discharge, the 'r-r-rupp' of shrapnel on the wet ground, the
metallic clang of bullets and steel fragments on the gun-shields and
mountings. But through all the inferno the gunners worked on, swiftly
but methodically. After each shot the layers glared anxiously into the
eye-piece of their sights and made minute movements of elevating and
traversing wheels, the men at the range-drums examined them carefully
and readjusted them exactly, the fuse-setters twisted the rings marking
the fuse's time of burning until they were correct literally to a
hair-line; every man working as if the gun were shooting for a
prize-competition cup. Their care, as well as their speed, was needed;
for, more than any cup, good men's lives were at stake and hanging on
their close and accurate shooting. For if the sights were a shade to
right or left of their 'aiming point,' if the range were shortened by a
fractional turn of the drum, if a fuse was wrongly set to one of the
scores of tiny marks on its ring, that shell might fall on the British
line, take toll of the lives of friend instead of foe, go to break down
the hard-pressed British resistance instead of upholding it.

Man after man was hit by shell splinter or bullet, but no man left his
place unless he was too badly injured to carry on. The seriously
wounded dragged themselves cl