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P'r'aps you'll hear that little tap-tap-tapping that tells where Fritzie Mole is at work. Then if you come back and tell the old man where it is, he'll give you all the cigarettes you want. But say, do you want me to give you a pointer on the way to go, the method of procedure, as the old man would call it?" They agreed that they were thirsting for information and instruction.
The tanks were an absolutely new thing to us. Their secret had been guarded so carefully even in our own army that our battalion had heard nothing of them. But we didn't need to be told that they would be effective. One look was enough to convince us. Later it convinced Fritzie. The tanks passed beyond us and half-way up to the first line and stopped.
We put on our masks, but we couldn't see through them very well and we decided to hang out where we were till morning, but Fritzie began sending us some high-explosive shrapnel and we thought we would rather take our chance with the gas, so we stuck our gas tubes in our mouths, grabbed our noses, and away we went.
I looked round for something with which to slay him. "I wonder," he said thoughtfully, "if I shall ever find my tennis legs again." "Have you lost them?" I asked sarcastically. "I'm afraid so er that is, of course, only one of them really." "Only one of them?" I repeated vaguely. "Yes, Fritzie got it at Jutland; but these new mark gadgets are top-hole.
Every morning Fritzie would send us "sausages" for breakfast; they came at the rate of one a minute. It wasn't that they caused so many casualties, but they made so much work. Every day Fritzie would blow up our front line and we would have to build it up again each night under machine gun fire. We took it in turns, half of us would be on working parties and the other half on outpost duty.
Tom asked. "Yup. Oh, look at Bricky!" he added suddenly. "You carrying wire, Bricky? There's a target for a sniper for you hair as red as " "Just stick around at the other end of it," interrupted "Bricky" as he passed, "and listen to what you hear." "Here come the tanks," said Tom's neighbor, "and there's the Jersey Snipe perched on the one over at the other end. Good-night, Fritzie!"
She has two South African medals, and for twelve months was matron of the hospital at Bar-le-Duc that Fritzie once termed "that damned little British hospital," just eight miles behind the lines at Verdun; at a time when the Germans were exerting their utmost power to break through, and were making the destruction of hospitals and clearing stations a specialty. Mrs.
If you have ever been out in a bad hailstorm you can perhaps form some idea of how thick the bullets are when Fritzie turns on his guns and sweeps a road. Well, I had only been working an hour or so underground when I heard some one at the top of the shaft calling my name. I answered and he said, "Come on up, Jack, I want you." I hurried up the ladder and found one of the 28th boys waiting for me.
My canteen went dry, and for a day or two I scooped water out of the shell hole and drank it. Good enough tasting water so far as that goes, and fresh too! But at the end of the third day, I decided it wasn't agreeing with me and quit." "Why?" we asked. "Did you leave the shell hole?" "No oh, no. It was a good shell hole. I stayed. But you know Fritzie came up!" he answered.
"Oh," he said, "I just showed it to him, and his eyes stuck out a mile," but I said, "No, Fritzie, this is for you when you bring the map and compass; so I think I have him." Sure enough, Sammy went off the next day with his little bag of rations. About two hours after we got started to work Sammy came along to where I was working and said, "Jack, I have it."
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