"Go easy, won't you?" he said to me. "Bosche has an idea we use this corner for something rather important. If he sees your camera we shall certainly receive his attention. For Heaven's sake, keep your head down."
"Right-o!" I said. "Lend me your periscope; I will have a look at the ground first through that."
I looked on the village, or rather the late site of it. It was absolutely flattened out, with the exception of a few remaining stumps of trees, which used to be a beautiful wood, near which the village nestled.
"That's been done by our guns in five days; some mess, eh?"
"My word, yes. Now about this afternoon's bombardment; they are working on the left-hand corner."
I chose a spot for working and fixing up my tripod, and waited until 4.30 p.m.
In the meantime, with the aid of a stick, I gradually pushed away several sandbags which interfered with my view on the parapet. To do this it was necessary to raise myself head and shoulders above the top and, with one arm pushed forward, I worked the bags clear. I felt much better when that job was done.
"You're lucky," said the A.O. "I had one of my periscopes hit clean by a bullet this morning. Fritz must be having a nap, or he would have had you for a cert."
"Anyway," I replied, "it gives me a comparatively clear view now."
Time was drawing near. I prepared my camera by clothing it in an old piece of sacking, and gently raising it on to the tripod I screwed it tight. Then gradually raising my head to the view-finder, I covered the section which was going to be "strafed," and wrapping my hand in a khaki handkerchief, waited.