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Updated: June 12, 2025
Bob had, long before this, gone down to the works by the sea face where considerable bodies of troops were lying, in the bombproof casemates, in readiness for action if called upon and from time to time he went out with Captain O'Halloran, and other officers, to see how matters were going on.
He had condemned the rush for civil offices and what he called "bombproof positions," and he wished at least to lead the way to active duty by remaining with his army. Two months later an effort was made by some of his friends to have him appointed Secretary of War. This would have brought him in close contact with the army, which he was anxious to serve.
Bob was glad to get back again into the bombproof casemates; for there was comparative quiet while, outside, the constant roar of the guns, the howl of shot, the explosion of shell, and the crash of masonry created a din that was almost bewildering.
"Just before dawn and after Beauvayse relieved you at Staff Bombproof South." Captain Bingo swallows violently, runs a thick finger round inside his collar, and his big face goes through several changes of complexion, ranging from boiled suet-dumpling paleness to beetroot red. He looks away and blinks before he says in a voice that wobbles: "Then my wife's all right?"
For miles, to a depth of from fifteen to twenty kilometers, there ran some three or four and at certain points even five systems of trenches, one behind the other. Hundreds of thousands of thick tree trunks had been worked into these defensive works and millions of sand bags piled up as breastwork. Bombproof dugouts had been constructed deep in the ground.
All I ask of you is to talk business " I moved aside, and backward a little way, disgusted with the ratty soul of the man, and stood looking at the soldiers who were digging out bombproof burrows all along the trench and shoring up the holes with heavy, green planks.
Saxham, shouldering out of Julius's hotel upon his way to Staff Bombproof South, is made aware that the hundred-foot-high dust-storm that has raged and swirled throughout the morning is in process of being beaten down into a porridge of red mud by a downpour of February rain.
Bingo cleared his throat in his ponderous, scraping way, admitting: "Well, perhaps I may have dropped a briny or so of nights in bed at Nixey's, or on duty at Staff Bombproof South, between ring-ups on the telephone when the off-duty men were snorin', and one had nothin' on the blessed earth to do but wonder whether one had a wife or not?"
The long bombproof is heterogeneously furnished with full and empty ammunition-boxes marked A.O.S., a leathern sofa-divan, tattered by spurs and marked by muddy boots, several cane or canvas deck-chairs, and others of the Windsor pattern common to the barrack-room.
There's no mistaking the place, because it is the only one left in the country that looks like the good old times before the war; and the Yankees would not have spared it, had it not been such comfortable bombproof headquarters for their officers. It's our show place now, and General Darrington keeps it up in better style, than any other estate I know." "Thank you. I will find it."
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