"Come along, Malins, your cup of tea is ready," shouted an officer.
I left my camera under cover of a fallen tree trunk and crossed to a covered shell-hole which answered to the name of dug-out. Anyway, apart from shrapnel or a direct hit from an H.E., we were comparatively safe, being below ground level. Along the centre was a rough plank on two boxes and grouped either side were several other officers of the battery. We all of us soon forgot about the previous night's efforts of Fritz in a gorgeous repast of bacon, fried bread, and tea.
Bosche was now fairly quiet; he was "strafing" the ridge in front with an occasional H.E.; some of our batteries on my right were still at it. It was now quite daylight; our aeroplanes were flitting across the sky, diving low to obtain better observation of the enemy, and incidentally getting "strafed" by his anti-aircraft guns which did not interest them in the least.
"What time is zero-hour?" I asked.
"Twelve-thirty," was the reply. "We start our intense at twelve o'clock, every gun we have in this section is going to fairly give Bosche jumps; in fact he will have to find a 'better 'ole.'"
This remark caused considerable laughter.
"I am going to get my scenes from 'Ginchy Telegraph'; it seems a very likely spot by the map. Shall I get there about eleven o'clock and fix up?"
"Good," said one. "I will lend you an orderly to act as guide if it's any benefit to you."
Thanking him, I gladly accepted the offer.
Breakfast over, I collected my apparatus and stood to watch the sections which Fritz "strafed" the most. By practising this method it has made it possible for me to do my work in comfort on previous occasions. I noticed there were one or two points which he "strafed" methodically, therefore I judged it safe to make direct for my point over the top, then enter a communication trench just on this side of the ridge.