A star-shell flares upon the hill
And lights the lowly house of death.
Unknown, a soldier slumbers there
While mournful mists come drooping low—
But oh! a weary maiden's prayer,
And oh! a mother's tears of woe!
[CHAPTER VII]
GRAVES
There is a certain grave near Peronne, and in it rests a German machine gunner, and though the cross over the grave testifies to the valour of the dead man it also is witness to the chivalry of the men who buried him there. The men were Australian soldiers, brave Diggers who advanced to the attack and after making rapid strides they were held up by the fire of a solitary machine gun that stood immovable in the rout as a rock in running water. Round it the retreating army was withering like snow in a thaw, the whole line bending, cracking and floating backwards.