Feeling Led
As I write shells from heavy guns are whining overhead, and the roar from the gun’s mouth as well as the roar of shells exploding is behind and before. And (pause!) we are used to it! We are used to raining; used to going without washes for days; used to driving German columns back; used to mud, cold nights, and a terrific quantity of detail that varies from day to day. We have a knack of sticking to what we gain, and there you can feel proud of us all. For we ought to be swamped by superiority of numbers and guns. But our methods under fire are, if not perfect, very good. We are officered by excellent men, and we can feel led. You will understand: A Private of the Bedfordshire Regiment.