Given up Worrying
One of the coolest things I have seen—and I have seen a few—was an Engineer sergeant and two assistants measuring a piece of the river bank with the tape, and having to lie down every few minutes to dodge shells or extra-strong volleys. The sergeant could not hear some of the figures, so yelled out, “Don’t let your voice be drowned by a ---- German gaspipe.” I assure you that we think no more of bullets and shells than of a cricket ball sent down by a fast bowler. In fact, I have felt more funk when ---- is in form at the wicket than I have at a shell. This may sound awful swank, but when you have lived among shells and bullets for a month it is a case of familiarity breeding contempt. I believe I am the funkiest, or at any rate the most careful, chap in the regiment, but I have long since given up worrying: A Private of the Bedfordshire Regiment.