stay there
with my three gun teams and hold the trench against all attacks. About
2 o'clock that afternoon when everything seemed very quiet and normal,
Fritz started up with a bit of a bombardment and they were all landing
around our trench. At times they would just cover us with mud. Luckily
for us it never got anybody. He was also landing them between us and
"A" Co., so I began to get a bit worried and decided that I should
send a message back to Headquarters as they were shelling pretty bad.
I did not think it fair to send one of my men so took a message across
to "A" Co., and had them send it back to H.Q. I then went back to my
own men, arrived there safely and cuddled up against the side of the
trench expecting any minute to go up in the air, but we still kept on
joking each other. Neither one of us would let on that we were scared.
About 5 o'clock that afternoon I saw about twenty men leave "A" Co.
trench and make a dash across No Man's Land. They were a reconnoitring
patrol in charge of Lieut. Canning and they were going to find out if
the Kenora trench was occupied. Well they did. Fritz stopped shelling
us and turned his machine guns and artillery on to this small party.
They had to fall back and I believe they had four or five killed,
including Lieut. Houston. Shortly after that our own Company came back
and I can tell you I was not sorry to see them for it was no enviable
position having responsibility for a couple of hundred yards of your
front line. We got an issue of rum from the Captain when he came and
we needed it bad. About eight that night a ration party came up with
our rations and water. Say, you should have tasted it; full right up
with the taste of petrol, but still it was good to us. You know we
lose all fancy ideas about taste in the trenches.

Everything passed off as usual. Now and again we would think that the
German was coming over so would have an extra good watch. He is such
an uncanny devil he is always sending up fancy signals. The next
morning as usual I visited my teams, issued their rations and rum. I
had just finished doing this with my middle team and was sitting down
talking to them. The little trench was more like a grave that could
just hold us comfortable. All of a sudden there was an explosion
overhead. I heard somebody singing out "stretcher-bearer" and I
thought something had struck me in the back and had gone though me,
but I looked around for my men. As far as I could see