I got a bullet through my shoulder that put my right arm out of action.
I dropped in a clover field. The machine guns were sweeping the hill,
and the bullets were cutting the clover tops about six inches above
my head. I dare not move, as I would have been riddled, and the whole
of the line had gone on. I lay there over two hours trying to get a
bandage on my wound. When I heard the guns becoming silent, I jumped up
and ran behind a haystack, where I found thirty more men all smothered
with blood. We bandaged one another up as best we could, and lay there
until dark, when a doctor arrived, and those alive were removed with
stretchers. We got some hot tea, the first drop for five days: _Pte.
Cundell, Northamptonshire Regiment_.