it
all leads up to my story, such as it is.

"We came in for that Loos show last year. After months and months of
stagnation in the trenches, we were suddenly called to Headquarters and
told that we were to make an attack in about two hours' time.

"I don't know if any of you fellows came in for a bayonet charge when
you were out at the Front. Frankly, I felt in a hell of a funk, for it's
not the same thing to leave your trench and charge as it is to rush an
enemy after you've been lying in an open field for an hour or two. The
first hour and a half went all right, what with fusing bombs, arranging
signals, and all that sort of thing, but the last half-hour was the very
devil.

"Most of us felt a bit jumpy, and the double rum ration went in two
shakes. We knew that we shouldn't worry when the whistles went for the
charge, but the waiting was rather trying. Personally I drank more neat
brandy than I have ever done before or since, and then sat down and
tried to write one or two letters. But it wasn't a brilliant success,
and I soon left my dug-out and strolled along to C Company.

"The idea was for A and C Companies to attack first, followed by B and
D companies. A battalion of the Westshires was in support to us.

"C Company Officer's dug-out was not a mental haven of rest. With one
exception, everyone was a bit nervy, everyone was trying not to show it,
and everyone was failing dismally. The exception was Jimmy Wynter. He
was sitting on a pile of sandbags in the corner, his eyeglass in his
eye, looking at an old copy of _La Vie Parisienne_, with evident relish.
His hand was as steady as a rock, and he hadn't had a drop of rum or
brandy to give him Dutch courage. While everyone else was fighting with
excitement, Jimmy Wynter was sitting there, studying the jokes of his
paper, as calmly as though he were sitting here in this old club. It was
only then that it occurred to me that there was something in the fellow
after all.

"At last the time drew near for our push, and we waited, crouching under
the parapet, listening to our artillery plunking away like blazes. At
last the whistles blew, a lot of fellows cheered, yelled all sorts of
idiotic things, and A and C Companies were over the parapet on the way
to the Huns.

"I am no hand at a description of a charge, but it really was wonderful
to watch those fellows; the sight of them sent every vestige of funk
from me, and the men could hardly wait for their turn to co