"We've done our bit!"
"That's no reason!"
"I'm sleepy."
"Get down to it, old chap. We'll wake you in time for the fun."
He lay down in the ditch. The night reigned. Searchlights swept the heavens. There was an occasional star-shell, and firing all the time. A fresh breeze got up.
Some time slipped by. We were all, or nearly all, dozing. That vague fusillade in the distance would have been enough to upset us. But suddenly without a whistle, without a call, everyone was on his feet. The echo of a bugle-call was borne to us on the wind, coming from several miles away—impressive, rousing notes. The solemn sound of the Charge. Each man seized his arms ready to rush forward.
But it was not to be. The captain came by: "Our turn will come, lads. Go on resting for the present—sleep, if possible!"
He certainly had us well in hand. Those few words from him were enough. The men lay down in the grass again, wrapping their greatcoats round them, and it was not long before they were sound asleep. Stars were shining in the calm sky above us.