In the brooding silence and the locality of war, Hate and Vengeance persisted, and were well in keeping with the ominous night, and here it seemed they found their most direct expression. Fitzgerald looked around, and queer, fragmentary thoughts rioted in his head. He remembered a verse of a song which he had once heard, and repeated it aloud.
"Here comes I, Jack Straw;
Such a man you never saw;
Through a rock, through a reel,
Through an old spinning-wheel,
Through a mill hopper, through a bag of pepper;
Sheep shanks, chicken bone—
Give me a kiss or leave me alone."
"What has put this nonsense into my mind?" he asked himself. "Probably it is because it is part of a Christmas carol.... And this is Christmas eve.... Two thousand years gone by and the message of the Prince of Peace not made manifest yet.... Well, I wonder if the rum is waiting...?"
He made his way into the trench again, and came in sight of the dug-out, with its candle lit in a niche of the chalky wall, and its huddled occupants lying on the floor. A few, no doubt, were asleep. Two or three were sitting, their backs against the chalk, their heads bent down almost between their knees. All were dressed in sheepskin coats, khaki trousers and high boots, and wore full equipment, their cartridge pouches being well stocked with ammunition. Although a bank of earth was heaped up on the doorstep, it did not prevent the water from dripping inside. The floor of the dug-out was as mucky as the floor of the trench. Stooping down, Fitzgerald crawled in through the narrow door of the shelter.
Bubb was already inside, scraping the muck from his boots with a clasp knife. Behind him, with his back against the wall, sat Bowdy Benners, cutting a lump of cheese into small portions.
The cheese was a big item of the Christmas Eve rations.
He was sitting down now, his head thrust forward, his big hands busy with the cheese. As Fitzgerald entered he looked up, then glanced round the dug-out.
"Not much grub to-night, boys," he said. "Four biscuits, a half a tin of bully and a piece of cheese for each man."
"And the rum?" asked Bubb, forestalling every man with the question.
"It's here all right," said Bowdy.