Vietnam or Thailand ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
Updated: June 22, 2025
For three-quarters of an hour this "strafing" continued, then giving Bosche ten minutes to settle down we came out of our holes and corners. What sights we were! Collecting my apparatus, I again crossed "No Man's Land," and carefully made my way into the village of Neuve Chapelle itself. To describe it would only be to repeat what I said of the devastated city of Ypres.
He explained swiftly, while over Brock's face a gentle smile beamed and widened into subdued chucklings. "Here's Sergeant Clancy coming along the trench," said Riley. "You have the notion now, so play up to me, and make sure Clancy hears every word you say." "I want to see that General of theirs the Bosche prisoner spoke about," said Riley, as Clancy came well within earshot.
I hope he does. There is only one thing I am afraid of, and that is that there may be some odd saps running out towards us, especially on our flanks. If so, we shall have some close work with bombs a most ungentlemanly method of warfare. Let us pray for a straightforward frontal attack." But Brer Bosche had other cards to play first.
He had dark curly hair, a shaggy moustache and beard, blue eyes and sunken cheeks, sallow complexion and a look of despair upon his face, which seemed to brighten up on our entrance. I asked him if his good wife would cook a little food for us, as we wished to stay the night in the village. "Monsieur," he said, "what we have is yours. God knows it's little enough the Bosche has taken it all.
Suddenly a sharp crack, crack and whir of a machine-gun rang out. A fight was going on up there; our anti-aircraft guns ceased, being afraid of hitting our own men, but the Bosche still kept on. It was impossible to see the progress of the fight; the whole flock was now directly overhead.
Then a voice shouted: "Pull away, sir." I pulled. I had to do it gently, otherwise the broken nature of the ground might damage the head. At last it was safely over, but Bosche had seen something moving across; then he turned his typewriter on again.
I followed my guide until eventually we came to a recessed compartment; it was illuminated by two German candles stuck in bottles, and a rough wooden table with two chairs, evidently looted from the farm when the Bosche arrived. We made our exit from another shaft and came out at a spot about one hundred yards from the place we had entered.
Have you a light, Monsieur Andrew?" "Oui, Monsieur, I have only one lamp left and I hid that as the Bosche took everything that was made of brass or copper, even the door handles." He brought in the lamp, a small brass one with a candle stuck in it. I proceeded with my record, then we supped on bread, sardines, and bully, sharing our white bread with Andrew and his wife.
I noticed by fresh shell-holes that Bosche had a rather bad habit of annoying the place with his pip-squeaks, but generally they only resulted in scoring a Blighty for more or one of the occupants and, for others, they were a source of amusement in the shape of gambling on the spot the next one would fall.
"I feel confident I can manage it, and that the result will be both instructive and unique, and provided the weather is clear and I get as small a dose of 'Bosche' as possible, there is no reason why it shouldn't be successful." "Of course, I am quite aware of the atmospheric difficulties.
Word Of The Day
Others Looking