In Flanders Fields And Other Poems [14]
be mentioned that the constantly broken
communications have to be mended, rations and ammunition brought up,
the wounded to be dressed and got away. Our dugouts have the French Engineers
and French Infantry next door by turns. They march in and out.
The back of the hill is a network of wires, so that one has to go carefully.
Tuesday, May 4th, 1915.
Despite intermittent shelling and some casualties the quietest day yet;
but we live in an uneasy atmosphere as German attacks are constantly
being projected, and our communications are interrupted and scrappy.
We get no news of any sort and have just to sit tight and hold on.
Evening closed in rainy and dark. Our dugout is very slenderly
provided against it, and we get pretty wet and very dirty.
In the quieter morning hours we get a chance of a wash
and occasionally a shave.
Wednesday, May 5th, 1915.
Heavily hammered in the morning from 7 to 9, but at 9 it let up;
the sun came out and things looked better. Evidently our line
has again been thinned of artillery and the requisite minimum to hold is left.
There were German attacks to our right, just out of our area.
Later on we and they both fired heavily, the first battery getting it
especially hot. The planes over us again and again, to coach the guns.
An attack expected at dusk, but it turned only to heavy night shelling,
so that with our fire, theirs, and the infantry cracking away constantly,
we got sleep in small quantity all night; bullets whizzing over us constantly.
Heavy rain from 5 to 8, and everything wet except the far-in corner
of the dugout, where we mass our things to keep them as dry as we may.
Thursday, May 6th, 1915.
After the rain a bright morning; the leaves and blossoms are coming out.
We ascribe our quietude to a welcome flock of allied planes
which are over this morning. The Germans attacked at eleven,
and again at six in the afternoon, each meaning a waking up of heavy artillery
on the whole front. In the evening we had a little rain at intervals,
but it was light.
Friday, May 7th, 1915.
A bright morning early, but clouded over later. The Germans gave it to us
very heavily. There was heavy fighting to the south-east of us.
Two attacks or threats, and we went in again.
Saturday, May 8th, 1915.
For the last three days we have been under British divisional control,
and supporting our own men who have been put farther to the left,
till they are almost in front of us. It is an added comfort.
We have four officers out with various infantry regiments
for observation and co-operation; they have to stick it in trenches,
as all the houses and barns are burned. The whole front is constantly ablaze
with big gunfire; the racket never ceases. We have now to do
most of the work for our left, as our line appears to be much thinner
than it was. A German attack followed the shelling at 7;
we were fighting hard till 12, and less regularly all the afternoon.
We suffered much, and at one time were down to seven guns.
Of these two were smoking at every joint, and the levers were so hot
that the gunners used sacking for their hands. The pace is now much hotter,
and the needs of the infantry for fire more insistent.
The guns are in bad shape by reason of dirt, injuries, and heat.
The wind fortunately blows from us, so there is no gas,
but the attacks are still very heavy. Evening brought a little quiet,
but very disquieting news (which afterwards proved untrue);
and we had to face a possible retirement. You may imagine our state of mind,
unable to get anything sure in the uncertainty, except that
we should stick out as long as the guns would fire, and we could fire them.
That sort of night brings a man down to his "bare skin", I promise you.
The night was very cold, and not a cheerful one.
communications have to be mended, rations and ammunition brought up,
the wounded to be dressed and got away. Our dugouts have the French Engineers
and French Infantry next door by turns. They march in and out.
The back of the hill is a network of wires, so that one has to go carefully.
Tuesday, May 4th, 1915.
Despite intermittent shelling and some casualties the quietest day yet;
but we live in an uneasy atmosphere as German attacks are constantly
being projected, and our communications are interrupted and scrappy.
We get no news of any sort and have just to sit tight and hold on.
Evening closed in rainy and dark. Our dugout is very slenderly
provided against it, and we get pretty wet and very dirty.
In the quieter morning hours we get a chance of a wash
and occasionally a shave.
Wednesday, May 5th, 1915.
Heavily hammered in the morning from 7 to 9, but at 9 it let up;
the sun came out and things looked better. Evidently our line
has again been thinned of artillery and the requisite minimum to hold is left.
There were German attacks to our right, just out of our area.
Later on we and they both fired heavily, the first battery getting it
especially hot. The planes over us again and again, to coach the guns.
An attack expected at dusk, but it turned only to heavy night shelling,
so that with our fire, theirs, and the infantry cracking away constantly,
we got sleep in small quantity all night; bullets whizzing over us constantly.
Heavy rain from 5 to 8, and everything wet except the far-in corner
of the dugout, where we mass our things to keep them as dry as we may.
Thursday, May 6th, 1915.
After the rain a bright morning; the leaves and blossoms are coming out.
We ascribe our quietude to a welcome flock of allied planes
which are over this morning. The Germans attacked at eleven,
and again at six in the afternoon, each meaning a waking up of heavy artillery
on the whole front. In the evening we had a little rain at intervals,
but it was light.
Friday, May 7th, 1915.
A bright morning early, but clouded over later. The Germans gave it to us
very heavily. There was heavy fighting to the south-east of us.
Two attacks or threats, and we went in again.
Saturday, May 8th, 1915.
For the last three days we have been under British divisional control,
and supporting our own men who have been put farther to the left,
till they are almost in front of us. It is an added comfort.
We have four officers out with various infantry regiments
for observation and co-operation; they have to stick it in trenches,
as all the houses and barns are burned. The whole front is constantly ablaze
with big gunfire; the racket never ceases. We have now to do
most of the work for our left, as our line appears to be much thinner
than it was. A German attack followed the shelling at 7;
we were fighting hard till 12, and less regularly all the afternoon.
We suffered much, and at one time were down to seven guns.
Of these two were smoking at every joint, and the levers were so hot
that the gunners used sacking for their hands. The pace is now much hotter,
and the needs of the infantry for fire more insistent.
The guns are in bad shape by reason of dirt, injuries, and heat.
The wind fortunately blows from us, so there is no gas,
but the attacks are still very heavy. Evening brought a little quiet,
but very disquieting news (which afterwards proved untrue);
and we had to face a possible retirement. You may imagine our state of mind,
unable to get anything sure in the uncertainty, except that
we should stick out as long as the guns would fire, and we could fire them.
That sort of night brings a man down to his "bare skin", I promise you.
The night was very cold, and not a cheerful one.