From the darkness in one of the corners came a thin, piping voice singing one of the popular trench ditties entitled:
"Pack up your Troubles in your Old Kit Bag, and
Smile, Smile, Smile."
Every now and then the singer would stop to
Cough, Cough, Cough,
but it was a good illustration of Tommy's cheerfulness under such conditions.
A machine-gun officer entered the dugout and gave me a hard look. I sneaked past him, sliding, and slipping and reached my section of the front-line trench where I was greeted by the Sergeant, who asked me, "Where in 'ell 'ave you been?"
I made no answer, but sat on the muddy fire step, shivering with the cold and with the rain beating in my face. About half an hour later I teamed up with another fellow and went on guard with my head sticking over the top. At ten o'clock I was relieved and resumed my sitting position on the fire step. The rain suddenly stopped and we all breathed a sigh of relief. We prayed for the morning and the rum issue.
CHAPTER X
"THE DAY'S WORK"
I was fast learning that there is a regular routine about the work of the trenches, although it is badly upset at times by the Germans.