We got into a little hell yesterday and all last night--a proper warm
corner. Shells bursting all over and round us and bullets whizzing
about all over the place. I had to take one of our wagons right into
the firing line. Our captain, who was riding ten yards in front, got
blown off his horse. The battle is still raging now. Heaven only knows
how it will end up. We cannot hear ourselves speak. My writing is very
bad, but you must excuse it as the very ground is shaking. I have to
take another wagon right into the firing line in ten minutes’ time: _A
Corporal of the Royal Army Medical Corps_.