The Germans held a position on the hills in front of us, and their
infantry had trenches just below them. Their shells started to drop on
us. We rushed along. We were getting mowed down, but we had to shift
them, as the officer said they were there long enough. How they missed
me I do not know. We got to about 100 yards of their trenches, when
the general passed the word up that the brigade would fix bayonets and
charge, taking the time to “go” from the bugle. It was an anxious time
waiting for the moment. I said to myself, and a lot more the same,
“This is my last rush, but I will fight for my life to the last.” The
bugle sounded at last, and we made a dash for it. The men were falling
each side of me. I was doubled up. We made a bit of a cheer, but it
was more like a groan. There was only about half of us got there. When
I got to their trenches I made a sort of a dive at it with my bayonet
leading, and it stuck in one of them, in the chest. We killed and
wounded the lot, but we found that they had a trench running backward,
and a lot escaped by that way. We stopped in the trenches a while to
get our wind, and we shook each other by the hand, and I said, “I will
never be hit after that,” and was confident of it. And I thanked God
from my heart for being alive: _Pte. Grace, Northumberland Fusiliers_.
Steady, Boys, Steady!
Lyddite, shrapnel, common siege, and other sorts of shells were
bursting all around us. The fumes from the terrible lyddite were
sickening--we were spitting up yellow stuff three days afterwards.
Some of the shrapnel bullets hit our chaps pretty badly, but some
were harmless. One fell red-hot across my fingers, but its force was
expended. Shortly afterwards a big lump of shell plunged into the earth
a few inches from my face. Then every other shell that came seemed to
strike the earth a few inches above my head, knocking lumps of earth
and stones all over me. I gave up all hope of ever seeing England
again, and so did everyone, so I said just a wee fervent prayer, and
keeping low down I managed to scribble what I really thought would
be the last line to my sister in my pocketbook. Then I remembered
that I still possessed half a cigarette, so I managed to strike a
match and finish that just as my look-out man saw the German infantry
advancing on us about 800 yards away. I can tell you we gave them a
warm reception. The German artillery were busy just then trying to drop
shells into our artillery, and we gave the German infantry the very
best of our attention. Our men simply mowed them down with rifles and
machine guns. Still the Germans came on like great waves. My men acted
admirably, taking steady aim every time until the fields in front of us
were covered with lines and heaps of German dead and wounded: _Sergt.
J. Williams, Highland Light Infantry_.