Without the loss of a single man, thanks to the mysterious yet effective means of protection afforded by the British navy, the Thirty-somethingth reinforcement had completed yet another stage of their Odyssey. At last they were upon the soil of La Belle France, and within sound of the hostile guns.
CHAPTER XV
The Eve of Messines
"Now then, you chaps, if you aren't hungry your pals are. Look slippy and get those rations up. You'll tumble across the wagons at La Tuille Farm."
"Right oh, Sergeant!" responded a youthful corporal. "Come along, chapses! Best foot forward!"
The Sergeant, having seen that a start was about to be made, backed out of the dug-out, dropped the tapestried curtain--it was a ragged and soiled ground-sheet--over the entrance, and disappeared along the narrow trench.
Crowded into the small dug-out were seven New Zealand riflemen. Three of them are old acquaintances: Carr, Selwyn, and Macready, all looking lean, dirty, and unkempt, while their uniforms were caked in dried mud and frayed with hard usage. The final touches at Staples were a thing of the past. For four long days the men had been in the first-line trenches facing the formidable Messines Ridge.
The dug-out was comparatively dry. For one thing, the weather had been propitious, and the loathsome mud had almost disappeared. The roof was composed of untrimmed tree trunks on which were piled sand-bags sufficiently thick to stop shells of medium calibre. The walls were likewise timbered, while along three sides ran a narrow shelf on which were bundles of straw to serve as beds. Hanging from nails driven into the rough-and-ready wainscot were the men's haversacks and other equipment, while ranged alongside the door were their rifles. Those were the only objects upon which any great care had been bestowed. In spite of rain, mud, discolouring fumes of shells, hard usage, and a dozen other difficulties, the rifles were kept well-oiled and in perfect condition.
In the centre of the dug-out stood a cylindrical piece of perforated iron in which a fire was burning dully. The fumes filled the confined space to such an extent that it was difficult for any of the occupants to distinguish their companions' features, but that was a detail to be endured with equanimity in the trenches. As it was the month of June, and warm, the men were lucky to be able to have a fire, considering the scarcity of fuel and the difficulty of conveying wood and charcoal up to the firing-line.