We were to dig an advanced trench two hundred yards from the Germans (the trenches at this point were six hundred yards apart).
Two winding lanes, five feet wide, had been cut through our barbed wire, for the passage of the diggers. From these lanes white tape had been laid on the ground to the point where we were to commence work. This in order that we would not get lost in the darkness. The proposed trench was also laid out with tape.
The covering party went out first. After a short wait, two scouts came back with information that the working party was to follow and "carry on" with their work.
In extended order, two yards apart, we noiselessly crept across No Man's Land. It was
nervous work; every minute we expected a machine gun to open fire on us. Stray bullets "cracked" around us, or a ricochet sang overhead.
Arriving at the taped diagram of the trench, rifles slung around our shoulders, we lost no time in getting to work. We dug as quietly as possible, but every now and then, the noise of a pick or shovel striking a stone, would send the cold shivers down our backs. Under our breaths we heartily cursed the offending Tommy.
At intervals a star shell would go up from the German lines and we would remain motionless until the glare of its white light died out.
When the trench had reached a depth of two feet, we felt safer, because it would afford us cover in case we were discovered and fired on.
The digging had been in progress about two hours, when suddenly, hell seemed to break loose in the form of machine gun and rifle fire.