Flopped down in the trench and fainted.
Then came Woggs, the soldier servant,
Trusty Woggs, the ever-ready,
And produced a flask of brandy,
Poured it down my Tiadatha.
“Curse you, Woggs,” said Tiadatha,
“Go on with your section leader.
Every man of you’ll be wanted,
I’ll crawl back and get my wound dressed,
Then I’ll come again and find you.”