. After a long trudge the
Briqueterie was reached, a dangerous and dreaded spot, for it was
periodically swept with shell fire. At last the companies got to their
allotted stations in the reserve trenches. Many had not yet experienced
the terrors of heavy shell fire, which by its very nature was intended to
produce an unnerving effect. The next day started fairly quietly. On the
right the men could see what was known as Death Valley. This was rightly
so called. Being obscured from the enemy's view, it was a covered means of
approach to the infantry positions in front, and afforded at the same time
cover for the guns. On this account it was never free from shell fire, and
was littered with corpses of men and horses.

In the afternoon the Battalion had to take over the front line in the
neighbourhood of Arrow Head Copse in front of Guillemont. Passing along
Death Valley the Battalion got caught in heavy shell fire, and sixty
casualties took place almost immediately. It required a stout heart to
march cheerfully forward when seeing one's companions who had gone a
little in front coming back on stretchers, or lying dead alongside the
path.

When the two leading companies arrived at Arrow Head Copse they manned
trenches varying in depth from a few inches to three feet, which afforded
little protection against shell fire. The dead, many of whom belonged to
the Liverpool Pals Brigade, were visible lying stark and numerous on the
battlefield. The weary desolation, and the unmitigated waste of equipment,
clothing, and life passes all description. This was the Somme battlefield,
of which one had heard so much. To those who had seen much of the war, the
thought came that nothing could be worse than this.

The next day was a day of incessant shell fire on both sides. On the
British side it was the bombardment prior to the attack on Guillemont. The
fire was terrific. The terrible concussions of the high explosive shells
assailed both ears and nerves, and kept up a pall of dust over the
trenches. The whizzing and swirling of the shells was incessant. Some
whined, others moaned, and others roared like express trains. Light shells
passed with an unearthly shriek. It was useless taking any notice of the
lighter shells. They had come and burst before one realised what had
happened. The heavier shells, particularly those that were timed to burst
in the air, were very trying, and when they burst over Trones Wood the
noise reverberated th