"I'll tell yer when the feed's ready, Pat," he called back. "You can 'ave 'arf the 'en for supper."
Then he slid off and disappeared over the rim of the trench.
CHAPTER XII
Retreat
"There's a battery snug in the spinney,
A French 'seventy-five' in the mine,
A big 'nine-point-two' in the village,
Three miles to the rear of the line.
The gunners will clean them at dawning,