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Updated: June 20, 2025
And it was the swift doings of this here new foreman. He'd not only got us going again but had put us on a military basis. And at that he was nothing but a poor old wreck of a veteran from the trenches, aged all of twenty-one, shot to pieces, gassed, shell-shocked, trench feeted and fevered, and darned bad with nervous dyspepsia into the bargain.
Iberian, Hill 35, and Gallipoli. The Battalion ordered to make the seventh attempt against Hill 35. The task. A and D Companies selected. The assembly position. Gassed by our own side. Waiting for zero. The attack. Considerations governing its failure. The Battalion quits the Ypres battlefield.
I find I am gassed by a contact with the poor fellow coming in whom I took to the doctor. I get treatment two or three times for my eyes and throat. My hands begin to crack and smart. The flesh comes off from my neck and other parts of my body. I had a fine meeting with boys in dugout and am again visited by the doughboys and officers. I visit the ruined church area again and get a few relics.
The air was suddenly saturated with an extraordinarily sweet smell. For the first few moments I quite enjoyed it. Then my eyes began to water freely, and pain badly. Realising at once that I was being "gassed," I bade the driver rush through the village, and as far beyond as possible. His eyes, poor fellow, were in the same state.
At last I reached Bilge Trench in safety. It was crowded with fugitives from working parties amongst them many wounded men. There have been a whole crowd wounded and some, including Sergeant Fergusson of the patrol, gassed. Having got back, I reported the proceedings to Captain Blamey, and then went to sleep. "At 4 a.m. I got up again and went on duty as officer of the watch.
Longford and Bugler Wright were severely wounded. Longley and Short had escaped before the first bombs exploded in the dug-out, but the remaining survivors, the Sergeant-Major, Lance Corporal Rowbotham, Roberts and myself were all partially gassed and hardly responsible for further action.
In all my days I don't think I have seen a meaner-looking little baste of a car." "Of course I'll be careful, Katy," said Linda. "That car was not bought for its beauty. Its primal object in this world was to arrive. Gee, how we shot curves, and coasted down the canyons, and gassed up on the level when some poor soul went batty from nerve strain!
Just before the service I had been introduced to a lad who said to the chaplain who introduced me that he was a member of my denomination. The boy could not speak above a whisper. He was gassed horribly, and in addition to his lungs being burned out and his throat, his face and neck were scarred. "I have as many scars on my lungs as I have on my face," he said quite simply.
With his jaw dropping and his eyes protruding, he looked like a criminal urged on toward the scaffold rather than a man of affectionate disposition welcoming home a family circle unexpectedly enlarged. The hoarse gurgle which escaped his lips might have gassed for a greeting, or it might have presaged an epileptic seizure. "Well, Joel."
Luckily they were not near enough to be seriously gassed, but for months after they both felt the after effects. Even where we were, we noticed the funny sulphurous smell in the air which seemed to catch one with a tight sensation in the throat, and the taste of sulphur was also perceptible on one's lips.
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