"'E's a good bloke, old Thorley," said Bubb.
"I wonder if the tanks are in sight yet," said Flanagan. "They're goin' to make a clean sweep of all the High Wood.... What's the time now?"
"A quarter to seven," Bowdy replied, looking at his wrist watch. "It'll all be over at ten o'clock one way or the other The Guards and Northumberland Fusiliers are round one side of the wood and it's almost closed in."
Having finished their breakfast, the men went outside into the trench. The shells could be heard bursting on the German lines, and the enemy were replying. The machine guns were going pit-pit, and bullets were ripping the English sandbags.
"There, look!" shouted Bowdy Benners, pointing at the sky overhead. His two mates looked up to see an aeroplane making its way across to the enemy's lines. It was followed by two, three, half-a-dozen, flying low.
"There, the tanks!" somebody shouted, and a line of faces peeped over the sandbags. One man in Benners' bay got hit through the head and fell to the floor of the trench. The remainder drew back discreetly and kept their heads under cover. Sergeant Snogger appeared suddenly, smoking a cigarette and paring his nails with a clasp-knife. He leant his back against the parados and looked at the trio.
"Cheero, sarg," said Bubb. "Fancy yer chance?"
"Not 'arf," said Snogger. "It'll be a walk-over."
"Pass the word along for Sergeant Snogger," came the message up the trench.
The sergeant closed his knife, put it in his pocket and rushed round the traverse.