I was in the firing line, and my mate next to me had one of his
fingers shot off and a bullet through his head. How I got hit, I was
bandaging his head up. I was caught in the neck just below the jaw,
and the bullet came out of my mouth. It knocked all my teeth out on
the left-hand side, and went through my tongue and lip. I ran about a
mile and a half before I could get it done up. The doctor said I was a
very lucky chap to be alive. I can hardly speak or eat. Dear mother, do
not let this upset you. I shall soon be better: _Corpl. Emery, Royal
Lancashires_.
In Luck!
We were guarding a road where it was expected they would retreat; and
they did. The first lot that came along was a Maxim limber. I accounted
for the driver about 400 yards away, off the left shoulder, and someone
else accounted for his mate, but still the horses came galloping along
towards our ranks, so I thought I would try my arm at stopping them. I
did, and got well repaid, for I took them into a farm close by, lifted
the German wounded off, and went through his kit. I found a clean
change of washing--badly needed, for we had not had a change since we
left Chelsea--and something more: a bottle of champagne, three loaves
of bread, six pots of jam, and a rabbit; so you can bet I backed a
winner: _Private J. Stearn_.