"That's all I want," I said. "I'm off. Hand me up my camera. And with due respect to your gun," I said to the T.M. officer, "you might cease fire until I am about fifty yards away. I don't mind risking Brother Fritz's 'strafe,' but I do object to the possibility of being scattered to the four winds of heaven by our own shells." And with a laugh and good wishes, I left him.
"I say," he called out, "come into my dug-out to-night, will you? It's just in front of Fifth Avenue. I shall be there in about half an hour; I have got to give Fritz a few more souvenirs to go on with. There is a little more wire left over there, and the C.O. wants it all 'strafed' away. Do come, won't you? So long. See you later. Keep your head down."
"Right-o!" I said, with a laugh. "Physician, heal thyself. A little higher, and you might as well be sitting on the parapet." He turned round sharply, then dropped on his knees.
"Strafe that bally parapet. I forgot all about it. Fire!" he yelled, and I laughed at the pleasure he was getting out of blowing up Fritz.
I scrambled and slithered back into the recognised trench again, and on my way back filmed the H.T.M., or "Flying Pig," in action. By this time it was getting rather dull, so going to a dug-out, I dropped my apparatus, and had another final look at the position from which I was going to film the great attack in the morning.
CHAPTER XIII
the dawn of july first
A Firework Display Heralds the Arrival of "The Day"—How the Boys Spent Their Last Few Hours in the Trenches—Rats as Bedfellows—I Make an Early Start—And Get Through a Mine-shaft into "No Man's Land"—The Great Event Draws Near—Anxious Moments—The Men Fix Bayonets—And Wait the Word of Command to "Go Over the Top."