The swimmers only ceased in their endeavours to drench him when he flung half-a-dozen bricks into the water perilously close to their heads, but it was only Bubb's trudgeon stroke that saved him from a combined attack when he dived into the Canal. Bubb was a graceful swimmer.
Bowdy was just clambering up on the bank when he heard it coming, rumbling in from the Unknown. He was back in the water immediately, beating it with his hands as he waited. The shell burst near the bank and a hundred splinters whizzed into the Canal. A second shell followed, and a third. Then it was that Bubb's clothes, caught fair, were blown in pieces.... For ten minutes the men kept in the water, but when no further shells came across from the Germans, they clambered out on to the bank.
"All hail, thou twentieth century Adam!" said Flanagan, looking at Bubb and shaking the ants from the bundle of khaki clothing. "It will be splendid to see you march through Gorre on your way back.... And all the young girls...."
Bubb looked round in agony; Bowdy shook with laughter.
"And French girls, too," said Flanagan. "They're very rude sometimes."
"We'll have a little procession," Bowdy suggested. "Bubb leading."
"It's a sad plight for a bashful man," said Flanagan. "An exhibition in the nude."
Bubb opened his mouth and shut it again. Bowdy and Flanagan put their boots on.
"If only I 'ad a sandbag," said Bubb.
"We'll get back now," Bowdy said. "Come along, Spudhole."