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Updated: May 18, 2025
Then about two minutes' telephoned talk to the Battery and ten minutes of spouting lyddite volcanoes finished the minnenwerfer trouble. But all this above-ground work was by way of an aside to the Sapper Subaltern. He was far too busy with his mine gallery to worry about the doings of gunners and bomb-throwers and infantry and such-like fellows.
A big minnenwerfer came into play next, and because it could throw a murderous-sized bomb from far behind the German trench it was too much for the British trench-mortar to tackle. An Artillery Observing Officer spent a perilous hour or two amongst the shrapnel and snipers' bullets on top of the sandbagged wall, until he had located the minnenwerfer.
His "missus" and his "three little nippers" were with him, and together they were blocking the way to Berlin of the entire British Army. Sometimes he was "Hans the Grenadier," owing to his fondness for nightly bombing parties. Sometimes he was "Minnie's husband," Minnie being that redoubtable lady known in polite military circles as a "Minnenwerfer."
One of his stories was of a Jock after a charge finding himself opposite a large Hun who put up his hands saying, "Me never fight, me shoot minnenwerfer." "Oh, you do, do you," was the reply, "you're the I've been looking for for two years." Followed by the necessary action. When at La Lacque we received our gas training.
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