"Them bastard Fritzes—I'd poison the 'ole lot." And that started the argument.
"I reckon one man's as good as another."
"I reckon a Tommy's worth a dozen Fritzes. The bleeders ought ter be wiped orf the face o' the bleed'n' earth. I see 'em do a thing or two, I tell yer—me an' my mate was in the line down Plugstreet way when they crucified a Canadian. I see the tree what they did it on wi' me own eyes—dirty lot o' swine!"
"Bloody lies! Yer read it in the paper!"
"Wha' if I did?"
"Yer said yer saw it yerself!"
"Well, I read it in the papers and then I see the tree what they did it on arterwards. The nails was still there. An' what d'you know about it? Yer in the artillery, yer don't see no fightin'!"
"Don't see no fightin'! Gorblimy, I reckon the infantry wouldn't be much bleedin' cop wi'out the artillery."
"I'll tell yer what the artillery do—blow up their own mates what's in the front line, there now!"
"If we'd 'ad artillery in August, 1914, the war'd 'a' bin over in three weeks!"