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Updated: May 31, 2025
We've got to find a hole somewhere just outside the castrol, and some sort of head-cover. We're bound to get damaged whatever happens, but we'll stick it out to the end. When they think they have finished with us and rush the place, there may be one of us alive to put a bullet through old Stumm. What do you say?
Deep snow was underfoot, a grey sky was over us, black peaks were on all sides, but ahead in the mist of the pass was that curious castrol which I had first seen in my dream on the Erzerum road. I saw it distinct in every detail. It rose to the left of the road through the pass, above a hollow where great boulders stood out in the snow.
They would not assault so long as we remained in the castrol, but they would block any attempt to find safety outside it. Stumm and his gun had us at their mercy. We crouched below the parapet again. 'We may as well toss for it, I said. 'There's only two ways to stay here and be shelled or try to break through those fellows behind. Either's pretty unhealthy. But I knew there was no choice.
The words were not out of my mouth when one fell right among us. It struck the far rim of the castrol, shattering the rock, but bursting mainly outside. We all ducked, and barring some small scratches no one was a penny the worse. I remember that much of the debris fell on Hilda von Einem's grave.
They agreed, and after our meal Sandy and I crawled out to prospect, leaving the others on guard in case there should be an attack. We found a hollow in the glacis a little south of the castrol, and, working very quietly, managed to enlarge it and cut a kind of shallow cave in the hill. It would be no use against a direct hit, but it would give some cover from flying fragments.
As I read the situation, Stumm could land as many shells as he pleased in the castrol and wouldn't bother to attend to the flanks. When the bad shelling began there would be shelter for one or two in the cave. Our enemies were watchful. The riflemen on the east burnt Very flares at intervals, and Stumm's lot sent up a great star-rocket.
But now I was among peaks that I fancied were bigger than the Alps, and I could hardly keep my eyes on the road. I was pretty certain that my castrol was among them, for that dream had taken an almighty hold on my mind. Funnily enough, I was ceasing to think it a place of evil omen, for one soon forgets the atmosphere of nightmare.
With Blenkiron crippled we were pinned to the castrol. Our numbers were up all right. The Guns of the North But no more shells fell. The night grew dark and showed a field of glittering stars, for the air was sharpening again towards frost. We waited for an hour, crouching just behind the far parapets, but never came that ominous familiar whistle. Then Sandy rose and stretched himself.
He had gone on bombarding the castrol and its environs while the world was cracking over his head. The gun team was in the hollow below the road, and down the hill among the boulders we crawled, Blenkiron as lame as a duck, and me with a limp left arm.
At every turn of the road I expected to see the castrol before us. You must know that ever since I could stand I have been crazy about high mountains.
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