We had six bridges to blow up. The centre bridge was to go up first, and we were to get over quickly after we had laid the charge. While we were waiting—there were ten of us—we saw a chap from the West Kents coming over, and we told him to jump for his life. The fuse was actually burning at the time, and I guess he broke all the records for jumping. A party of the King’s Own went into one battle shouting out, “Early doors this way. Early doors, ninepence!”: Sapper Mugridge.
Left the Duck
I was wounded in rather a curious manner. Being caterer to the officers’ mess, I was preparing the dinner, plucking a duck in the backyard, when a shell burst, and I was hit on the shoulder and head. I had laid the tables for dinner before, and to my surprise when I was expecting the return of officers, I was confronted by a party of Germans, who sat down and ate a hearty meal, while I managed to escape. Whether they finished the plucking and cooking of the duck, I thought it advisable not to return and see: Sergt. Hanks, 4th Middlesex Regiment.
Swimming for Them
For two whole days the rain came down on us in bucketfuls. It was like having the sea bottom turned upwards and the contents poured over us. At one point tents were floating around like yachts on the lake at the Welsh Harp. Those who had been foolish enough to get on the wrong side of their clothes the night before had the devil’s own job to find them in the morning. Swimming after your things when you wake up isn’t an aid to quick dressing: A Private of the Grenadiers.
Asked for Him
A wounded soldier I picked up the other day told me an amusing tale, although he was severely hurt. His regiment was capturing some Germans, and they were being disarmed, when this chap, in asking a German for his rifle, was bayoneted twice by the German and fell down unconscious. When he came round he said to his pals, “Where is the blighter?” “Never mind, Mick, don’t worry,” replied his pals; “we have just buried him”: Sergt. Hughes, Army Medical Corps.
Mighty Particular
There was a chap of the Grenadier Guards who was always mighty particular about his appearance, and persisted in wearing a tie all the time, whereas most of us reduce our needs to the simplest possible. One day, under heavy rifle fire, he was seen to be in a frightful fluster. “Are you hit?” he was asked. “No,” he said. “What is it, then?” “This —— tie is not straight,” he replied, and proceeded to adjust it under fire: Corpl. C. Hamer, Coldstream Guards.