We get now and again odd stories of what our tars are doing, and we
were mighty pleased over that dust-up in the North Sea. We kept singing
“Boys of the Bulldog Breed” till we thought our throats would crack,
and it was taken up all along the line by our men. It’s not so risky
as you would think on the battlefield. We were under heavy fire for
two days before one of us was hit; I know other regiments had similar
experiences. You’re all right so long as you keep under cover, but
where the losses come in is when you have to retire with all those
fiendish guns blazing away at you in the open. Then you can’t help
being hit, and there’s always their cavalry to look out for, though it
isn’t of much account against men with the bayonet. They have more
than they know what to do with, and they’re always turning up where
they’re least expected: _Corporal W. Johnson_.