"Have you been long out here?" asked Teak.
"Only about nine months," replied the regular. "There are seven of the old regiment left, and it makes me wish this damned business was over and done with."
"Ye don't like war, then."
"Like it! Who likes it? only them that's miles away from the stinks, and cold, and heat, and everything connected with the —— work."
"But this is a holy war," said Pryor, an inscrutable smile playing round his lips. "God's with us, you know."
"We're placing more reliance on gunpowder than on God," I remarked.
"Blimey! talk about God!" said the regular.
"There's more of the damned devil in this than there is of anything else. They take us out of the trenches for a rest, send us to church, and tell us to love our neighbours. Blimey! next day they send you up to the trenches again and tell you to kill like 'ell."
"Have you ever been in a bayonet charge?" asked Stoner.
"Four of them," we were told, "and I don't like the blasted work, never could stomach it."