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Now they were hidden by the smoke, now silhouetted for an instant against a glare of blinding light. An hour passed and there was no change in the situation. "Fritzie's a tough old bird," said Tommy. "'E's a-go'n' to die game, you got to give it to 'im." The excitement was intense. Urgent calls for "More lemons! More cricket balls!" were sent back constantly.

"They won't send him farther than Creil," another said. "The wires are up all the way from Creil down." "You never can tell whether they'll stay up or not not with this seventy-five mile bean-shooter Fritzie's playing with. Ever been to Paris, kid?" "No, but I s'pose I'll be sent there now maybe," Tom answered. "They'll keep you moving up this way, all right.

"Now all the soldiers stationed in and about Berlin know Fritzie's peculiarities, so I propose to impersonate him tonight while he is in here drinking the Ambassador's champagne.

Officers and men, we were new to the game then, and we held rather exaggerated notions as to the amount of care to be observed in moving up to the trenches. "Blimy, son!" whispered the trench guide, "you might think we was only a couple o' 'unnerd yards away from Fritzie's trenches! We're a good two an' a 'arf miles back 'ere.

Looking then to the left I saw another kiltie in an argument with a Prussian; they were fencing with their bayonets, and a second Hun was coming up behind and again I took aim, but before I was able to get my pill started, my mate robbed me of the honor and sent his pill crashing through Fritzie's head.

The cut-up-ground, pock-marked with shell holes as closely as the cells in a honeycomb, was of course carefully noted by Fritzie's aerial observers, and they were naturally led to believe that it would be physically impossible for our batteries to be relieved, that is, to retire and another battery take our place. But we camouflaged.

They's thousands usin' that well an' she goes dry arter a little w'ile." "You blokes want any souvenirs, all you got to do is pick 'em up: 'elmets, revolvers, rifles, German di'ries. You wite till mornin'. You'll see plenty." "Is this the last line o' Fritzie's trenches?" "Can't tell you, mate. All we know is, we got 'ere some'ow an' we been a-'oldin' on. My Gawd! It's been awful!

To retire from the side of the ridge facing the German position, it was necessary to take this road, and, as the crest of it was under almost continuous shell-fire, for safety we were sent over in sections of ten men at a time. This territory had all been in Fritzie's hands, and he knew every inch of it.

About 3:00 o'clock A.M. the messages from Germany started coming and our replies were mailed back as fast as the postal authorities at the guns could handle the matter; in fact, throughout our campaign on the Somme we mailed our replies and our additional messages so rapidly and so effectively, that nine times out of ten Fritzie's working force was swamped.

All's over now," was their greeting, but what they said didn't sound exactly true, for we had not been in five minutes, when with a roar all of Fritzie's guns opened up once more. Bullets swept over us like hail; it was hell let loose. The officer in charge was killed almost at once, and Major Q took over the command.