“I was sent out to find a habitable trench for my company. We moved in
there at dusk. We faced half-right, as it were, looking up the slope
toward Ginchy. It was like being near the foot of Parliament Hill,
with the village on top. Our right flank was down near the bottom of
the valley; our left extended up to the higher ground toward the ruins
of Waterlot Farm. The trench was very shallow in places, where it had
been knocked in by shell-fire. I had chosen it as the only one suitable
in the neighborhood, but it was a horrible place. British dead were
lying about everywhere. Our men had to give up digging in some places,
because they came down to bodies which were buried there when the
parapet blew in. The smell turned us sick. At last in desperation I
went out to look for another trench, for I felt sure the Germans must
have the range of the trench we were in, and that they would give us
hell when dawn broke. To my joy I found that a very deep trench some
distance back had just been vacated by another regiment, so we went in
there.
“The night was bitterly cold. I have felt hunger and thirst and fatigue
out here to a degree I have never experienced them before, but those
torments I can endure far better than I thought I could. But the
cold—my word! It is dreadful. I suppose life in the Far East does not
harden one’s constitution against that torture. Many a night have I
slept out in the open, in narrow, wet trenches, with the rain pouring
down, and almost groaned with the agony of cold. If two can huddle
together, you can get some warmth, but the trenches are frequently too
narrow for that. I think I feel the cold more than any one.
“However, dawn broke at last. It was very misty. All night we had
been trying to get into touch with the unit on our left, but without
success. So the Captain sent me out with an orderly to see whether
I could manage it. We two stumbled along, but the mist was so dense
we could see nothing. We came to one trench after another, but not a
living thing could we see—nothing but dead, British and German, some
of them mangled beyond recognition. Bombs and rifles and equipment
were lying all over the place, with here and there a great-coat, khaki
or gray according to the nationality of their one-time owners, but of
living beings we could see no sign whatsoever. There was a horrible
stench in places which nearly turned our stomachs.