“Got Me, Too!”
“Come on now, lads,” said our officer, and we went running on as hard as we could. We had got to take the hill, you see, or smash the Germans that were on it. At last we got quite near—not 150 yards from the trenches. I and two pals of mine and two others got behind a hedge and started to blaze away. We lost our sick feeling then. There was one chap got hit in the face with a shrapnel bullet. “Hurt, Bill?” I said to him. “Good luck to the old regiment,” said he. Then he rolled over on his back. There was a grey German helmet over the side of the trench with a rifle under it. I let that German have a bullet all to himself. I saw his helmet roll back and his rifle fly up. Then I got on my knees to bandage up a pal, and just as I moved there was a smash on my side. They’d got me, too, and I rolled over and thought I was done for: Pte. S. Smith, 1st Warwickshire Regiment.