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It was a spot in which there was always a feeling of something dreadful being close at hand; there was an air of expectancy about it and one felt there was a marked atmosphere of nerves about. You might be sniped from the house opposite, or blown out of the windows by a seventeen-inch shell. You never know.
'It occurs to me that unless I drink something I shall go out before my time. I've stopped sweating, and I wear a seventeen-inch collar. He brewed himself scalding hot tea, which is an excellent remedy against heat-apoplexy if you take three or four cups of it in time. Then he watched the sleeper. 'A blind face that cries and can't wipe its eyes, a blind face that chases him down corridors! H'm!
Four days before I went in first it was bombarded with one hundred and fifty seventeen-inch shells, each one of which would destroy a cathedral. It was with a sense of being near to death not a pleasant feeling, you understand that I went into Arras for the first time and saw what had happened to it. I was very near to the Germans.
The woman behind the counter was a comely soul, and laughed because she had no change. Only two days before a seventeen-inch shell had burst fifty yards or so away from her shop, which was close enough for death. I marveled at the risk she took with cheerful smiles. Was it courage or stupidity?
"Pritchard blushed plum color to the short hairs of his seventeen-inch neck. "''Undreds, said Pyecroft. 'So've I. How many of 'em can you remember in your own mind, settin' aside the first an' per'aps the last and one more? "'Few, wonderful few, now I tax myself, said Sergeant Pritchard, relievedly. "'An' how many times might you 'ave been at Aukland? "'One two, he began.
"How many women have you been intimate with all over the world, Pritch?" Pritchard blushed plum colour to the short hairs of his seventeen-inch neck. "'Undreds," said Pyecroft. "So've I. How many of 'em can you remember in your own mind, settin' aside the first an' per'aps the last and one more?" "Few, wonderful few, now I tax myself," said Sergeant Pritchard, relievedly.
"But, my dear good fool, what about the French losses? Don't they get killed, too? The German artillery is flogging them with shell-fire from seventeen-inch guns, twelve-inch, nine-inch, every bloody and monstrous engine. The French are weak in heavy artillery. For that error, which has haunted them from the beginning, they are now paying with their life's blood the life blood of France."
We all think you heroic, and you are sometimes useful. But there isn't a thing you've done yet that a man can't do better except getting Furny through the lines, and nobody wants Furny in the lines. And when you're in them you've a moral effect equal to about ten seventeen-inch guns. If the men see you hovering round their trenches they're so jumpy they can hardly hold their rifles.
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