"Go past Gunner Siding and Marie Redoubt, then touch left and you'll get through."
"God! it's some rain," he said. "Ta, ta."
"Ta, ta, old man."
I turned into the trench leading to the Keep. The rain was pelting with a merciless vigour, and loose earth was falling from the sides to the floor of the trench. A star-light flared up and threw a brilliant light on the entrance of the Keep as I came up. The place bristled with brilliant steel, half a dozen men stood there with fixed bayonets, the water dripping from their caps on to their equipment.
"Halt! who goes there!" Pryor yelled out, raising his bayonet to the "on guard" position.
"A friend," I replied. "What's wrong here?"
"Oh, it's Pat," Pryor answered. "Did you not hear it?" he continued, "the Germans have broken through and there'll be fun. The whole Keep is manned ready."
"Is the pantomime parapet manned?" I asked. I alluded to the flat roof of the stable in which our Section slept. It had been damaged by shell fire, and was holed in several places, a sandbag parapet with loop-holes opened out on the enemy's front.
"Kore, Bill, Goliath, they're all up there," said Pryor, "and the place is getting shelled too, in the last five minutes twenty shells have missed the place, just missed it."
"Where does the sergeant-major stick?" I asked.