op--on Tim's
face. With a flash that leapt crackling over the plain, the storm loosed
itself. The lightning turned the rain into sheets of glittering silver,
and the hot ground fairly boiled. Tim, with a thousand others drenched,
and blinded, struggled over the slippery turf. That was a storm. Tim
could have seen to read; and the thunder wrestled in the low churning
clouds like a million devils, and through it all ran the chorus of wind
and lashing rain. Presently the storm lessened and died away, and the
rain settled to pour down on them for an hour or so. The squelch-squelch
of soaking boots and the creaking of leather equipment was all he heard.
They halted for breakfast, and Tim chewed his rations sitting on the
sodden ground in sodden clothes; and as he sipped his lukewarm coffee,
he shivered in the coming dawn.

Almost immediately they went on again.

Right before them, at the head of a valley, rose a ridge. In the creepy
light it looked miles high and a million spitting points of fire flashed
from it. The British guns in the woods at the back then began, and they
seemed to have no relation to the unvarying plumes of smoke bursting
above the long lines of fresh-turned earth two thousand yards away--no
connection with the screeching of the shells overhead. "Extended order!"
came the command, and Tim with his regiment stumbled forward. His breath
came and went in little painful gasps. From the right came a curious
gasping choke, and looking, he saw the man next to him throw up his arms
and pitch forward on his face. Suddenly he became aware of a peculiar
wailing above him, as if the air itself was in torture. Again a long
line of fire flashed out ahead of him and again came the wailing sound.
A Boche machine-gun loosed a few belts of cartridges in the spasmodic
style of her kind. There was no mistake about it this time--massed
infantry were sweeping the plain with rifle fire, and the quick-firers
were feeling for an opening.

Another man was hit--close to Tim. He squealed like a girl; and a fellow
near turned a dirty white, stumbled, with a clatter fell in a fainting
fit. Tardily the men advanced, and any acute observer would have seen
they had little heart in the business. Some hung behind almost
unconsciously, and had to be hurried up by the sergeants. The bullets
became more thick. A man started to blubber behind. "Gawd 'ave mercy! I
... I can't stand it! I won't go on!" he whined. It turned out to be a
sergea