Our S.O.S. signal had been sent back and the forward observation officer was now alive to the situation. It was not long before we heard the sweet music in our ears of the swish, swish of our artillery as the shells passed over our heads on their errand to the German batteries, which they soon located and silenced.
The night of the 14th we were relieved and retired to a series of dugouts situated just beneath the railway track. These dugouts had formerly been occupied by the Huns when they had held the ridge. The idea was that if the Germans should counterattack we would immediately get over the top of the railway embankment and make it our line of resistance.
The dugout occupied by our company officers had evidently been a German battalion headquarters, as it was fitted up with comfortable bunks and had in the rear a beautiful kitchen garden in which all kinds of vegetables were growing at one time. It was quite evident the Germans had been living very luxuriously. About 6:30 the next evening, while we officers were having our supper, a shell landed suddenly on the top of the railway embankment. We thought that the Germans intended shelling this point.
As we hastily rushed through the doorway into the open, each officer blowing his whistle for the men to come out of the various dugouts along the railway embankment, I noticed that a working party from the 22nd French Canadian Battalion instead of going under the bridge had passed over the embankment. The Germans had directed their fire upon this party, inflicting several casualties. They then started to shell along the embankment, killing two brigade machine gun company men in the next dugout to ours.
Later on I saw all my men located in the various shell holes. I then took up my position alongside of my batman and stretcher bearer, remaining with them until 3.00 in the morning. We were now so used to the periodical shelling that we did not pay any attention to it. We all felt like sleeping although it was exceedingly cold and rainy. Three of us huddled close to one another for warmth, the stretcher bearer lying next to me. He proved a most uncomfortable companion as he was continually trying to rub his back against the stretcher. I had my suspicions that I would soon be hunting something other than Huns.
HUNTING THE HUN
For three weeks my battalion practiced going over the tapes for an attack on the Cité St. Laurent, a suburb of Lens. The tapes were laid on the ground to represent the trenches held by the Germans. Various coloured flags were placed at the corners of the assumed streets and these were named as we would find the streets when we made our attack. The church of the town was represented by a cross made of tape. Our battalion frontage was some 300 yards, and at some places we were not more than the same distance away from the Hun trench.