A bullet struck the kit of Corpl. Thompson, of the 3rd Worcesters, and
lodged in his canteen. Thompson gave a grunt and thought he was done
for, but when the bullet rattled inside the canteen he just laughed
and blessed his luck. It’s a funny thing to go into battle for the
first time. There we were in the trenches with rain falling heavily
all the time, bullets whizzing all round us and shells--death-dealing
things--dropping everywhere. The roar was deafening: in fact, I was
deaf for a week afterwards, and I couldn’t tell what was shouted:
_Private J. Sibley_.