IN RESERVE
During the night we marched back to Inchy. Very early in the morning
I found the transport of the Fourteenth and, later in the day, the
remnants of the battalion. They were in reserve, some miles from the
firing line, yet in a very hard-shelled area; to make matters worse, we
were in an ammunition dump, one of the largest I had ever seen. It was
a very poor place to bring men to rest after battle!
There was a little Catholic chapel-tent here, similar to the one we
had had at Ecurie Wood. In the afternoon I went up to this and found
Father O’Sullivan of the First Divisional Engineers in charge. I slept
in the chapel-tent that night. Just before I retired, a number of lads
came in to see me. The last one was a runner from the Fourteenth. He
had had a terrible time carrying messages to different companies of the
battalion in the battle the previous day. He showed me his tunic, from
which a bullet had torn a strip across the chest. He had only begun to
speak of his narrow escape when he burst out crying and immediately
left the tent. Father O’Sullivan was sleeping down in the lines of the
engineers. The shelling was terrible; beyond description. Not far away
whole train-loads of munitions were being hit by German shells and car
after car was exploding with a deafening noise. A great many horses
were being hit, for there were horse lines of the artillery nearby.
Shell after shell was dropping around my tent; but I felt too tired
to move. I remember my conscience bothering me a little as to whether
I were justified in remaining in the tent when at any minute I might
be blown up. After a little puzzling, I decided I was, and for this
reason--perhaps, in looking for a place of safety, I might be struck by
one of the shells. And at any minute Fritz might stop.
I said Mass the following morning, and no words can express the
consolation it gave me. I had not said Mass for five days--not since
the previous Sunday. We remained another night, but the shelling was so
intense that it was no fit place for troops to rest in: so on Saturday
afternoon we marched farther back. Many men whom we thought had been
taken prisoners found their way back to the battalion; they had become
separated from their companies and had lain hidden in shell-holes
till they could come back in safety. As we now numbered nearly three
hundred, we did not present an unfavorable appearance as we marched
along. The band at the head of the column played “The Great Little
Army” and “Sons of the Brave” and many other old favorites; already the
lads were becoming more cheerful.