Davies was gone like a flash.
The Lewis guns had only recently become company weapons, and were still somewhat of a novelty. The Lewis gunners were rather envied, and also rather “downed” by the sergeant-major for being specialists. But this they could not help; and they were, as a matter of fact, the best men in my company.
Allan arrived, with one of the team carrying two spare drums of ammunition. We pointed out the spot, and he laid his gun on the parapet, with the butt against his shoulder, and his finger on the trigger, and waited.
“Flash!”
“There he is, sir!” from the sentry.
“Drrrrrr-r-r-r” purred the Lewis gun, then stopped. Then again, ending with another jerk. There was a silence. We waited five minutes.
“I’ll just empty the magazine, sir.”
“Dr-r-r-r-r.”
Lance-Corporal Allan took off the drum, and handed it to the other Lewis gunner. Then he handed down the gun, and we talked a few minutes. He was very proud of his gun. After a time I sent him back, and made my way along to “A” Company.
There I found Robertson. We talked. A tremendous lot of work had been done, and the big traverse was practically finished.