“Friend! stretcher-bearer!” I shouted.
“Come here—this way!” answered the voice.
I went down to a clump of bushes, and a man with a rifle slung over his shoulder stepped forward, and we both glared at each other for a second.
“Do yer know where the 45th Company is?”
“No idea,” said I.
“Any water?”
“Not a drop left.”
“We're trying to get back to the firing-line but we're all lost—there's eight of us.”
“I'm trying to get to the 32nd Field Ambulance—d'you know the way?”
“Yes; go right ahead there,” he pointed, “and keep well down off the hills—you'll see the beach when you've gone for a mile or so—”