to the regular gas helmet. In this way we were able to
stand the stuff.

The gas mask, by the way, was the bane of my existence in the
trenches--one of the banes. I found that almost invariably after I
had had mine on for a few minutes I got faint. Very often I would
keel over entirely. A good many of the men were affected the same
way, either from the lack of air inside the mask or by the
influence of the chemicals with which the protector is impregnated.

One of the closest calls I had in all my war experience was at
Mills Street. And Fritz was not to blame.

Several of the men, including myself, were squatted around a
brazier cooking char and getting warm, for the nights were cold,
when there was a terrific explosion. Investigation proved that an
unexploded bomb had been buried under the brazier, and that it had
gone off as the heat penetrated the ground. It is a wonder there
weren't more of these accidents, as Tommy was forever throwing away
his Millses.

The Mills bomb fires by pulling out a pin which releases a lever
which explodes the bomb after four seconds. Lots of men never
really trust a bomb. If you have one in your pocket, you feel that
the pin may somehow get out, and if it does you know that you'll go
to glory in small bits. I always had that feeling myself and used
to throw away my Millses and scoop a hatful of dirt over them with
my foot.

This particular bomb killed one man, wounded several, and shocked
all of us. Two of the men managed to "swing" a "blighty" case out
of it. I could have done the same if I had been wise enough.

I think I ought to say a word right here about the psychology of
the Tommy in swinging a "blighty" case.

It is the one first, last, and always ambition of the Tommy to get
back to Blighty. Usually he isn't "out there" because he wants to
be but because he has to be. He is a patriot all right. His love of
Blighty shows that. He will fight like a bag of wildcats when he
gets where the fighting is, but he isn't going around looking for
trouble. He knows that his officers will find that for him
a-plenty.

When he gets letters from home and knows that the wife or the
"nippers" or the old mother is sick, he wants to go home. And so he
puts in his time hoping for a wound that will be "cushy" enough not
to discommode him much and that will be bad enough to swing
Blighty on. Sometimes when he wants very much to get back he
stretches his conscience to the limit--and it is pr