In front the fighting broke out in fierce gusts.
“Pop-pop-pop-pop!—Pop-pop!” went the machine-gun. We could see one man getting another belt of ammunition ready to “feed.” Bullets from the Turkish quick-firers went singing with an angry “ssss-ooooo! zzz-z-eeee!... whheee-ooo-o-o! zz-ing!”
“D'you know where Brigade Headquarters is?” asked the adjutant.
“I'll find it, sir.”
“Very well, go up with this message, and I shall be here when you come back.”
I took the message, saluted and went off, plunging down into the thickets, and at last along my old water-course where I had crawled away from the sniper some days before.
I made a big detour to avoid showing myself on the sky-line. I knew the general direction of our Brigade Headquarters, and after half-an-hour's steady trudging with various creepings and crawlings I arrived and delivered my message. I returned quickly towards Pear-tree Gully. I stopped once to listen for the “Pop-pop-pop!” of our machine-gun but I could not hear it. I hurried on. It was downhill most of the way going back. I crept up through the bushes and looked about for signs of our men and the officer.
I saw a man of the machine-gun section carrying the tripod-stand, followed by another with the ammunition-belt-box.
“Seen any Medical Corps here?”
“They've gone down—'ooked it... you'd better get out o' this quick yourself—we're retreating—can't 'old this place no'ow—too 'ot!”