TRENCH MADNESS
To
Ellary Warden
LE Grand Couronné was the last of the mountain peaks to disappear in the darkness that so quickly follows twilight in Greece. To Valentine Latimer, excited by malaria, it seemed to curtesy as it went. He raised himself on to the fire-step, took off the gauze mask that protected his face from mosquitoes, and handed it to his orderly.
“Won’t you keep it on, sir?” asked his orderly; “the mosquitoes are out in their millions to-night.”
“It’ll make no difference,” said Latimer, “and I can’t breathe with that damned thing smothering me.... How heavy the air is!”
His servant stood behind him leaning with his back against the rock trench-wall, his head—so tall was he—almost touching the parados.
“We’d better visit the sentry-groups, Morgan,” said Latimer.