s. Two fingers of the left hand had been blown off, his
right arm was shattered, his head and neck were much cut about, and
blood oozed from wounds on his chest. This man had got a 'Blighty,'
but he did not appear to be at all pleased. It should be stated that
the men who receive wounds sufficiently serious to warrant their being
sent to hospitals in England are considered, and consider themselves,
very fortunate. He was disappointed because he was wounded, not that
he complained about his disfigurement or the pain. I expressed my
sympathy and wished him a speedy recovery and a happy time in
'Blighty,' and suggested that possibly there would be no need for him
to return, for the Hun might soon be driven out from Belgium. He eyed
me unflinchingly, and endeavoured to raise himself on his uninjured
elbow, and then blurted out, 'It is just as well for the ---- Huns
that I got wounded.' These were not the exact words he used. There
were many accompanying adjectives, without which the vocabulary of the
Australian would be very limited indeed. This big-hearted,
whole-souled, hefty 'Westralian' seemed to think that the issue to
that particular 'push' depended absolutely upon him.

The men of the Third Division have now had the experience which many
had longed for. Going 'over the top' was not quite so romantic as
fancy had pictured it to be, and the experience which is common to all
who take part in it for the first time defies expression. A peculiar
sensation creeps annoyingly slowly along the spinal column, subtly
affecting every member of the body. There's a gripping of the heart
and a numbing of the brain, and the tongue persistently cleaves to the
roof of the mouth, which seems as dry as powdered chalk. A choking
sensation accompanies every effort to cough. You may be in the
stepping-off trench or lying face-down on the churned-up mud out on
'no man's land,' waiting for the signal to 'go.' The seconds tick
slowly by, the minutes are leaden-footed in their passing, and seem
like eternities. The eyes are almost blinded through the strain of
peering into darkness, the imagination runs riot, grotesque shapes are
conjured into view, only to be dissipated by a solitary flare or a
series of gun-flashes. The fact that it is raining and you are lying
in a gradually deepening pool of water occasions no concern. What
matters most is that your puttees are frayed or your boots in need of
repair, but you console yourself with the though