"Hot shop, by Jove!" said Claud, adjusting his monocle to look through an aperture.
Crack! came a bullet, just missing his head.
"Better take that window out of yer face," said Bill.
"Why?"
"Them ole snipers thinks yer a general."
"My dear fellow, you're a positive bore—now, lend me a hand." And Claud, despite the whizzing bullets, filled more sandbags and shoved them up with a shovel. Bill helped him to make a V-shaped aperture. This work was continued all along the line. But all the sandbags and crack shots could not keep the rifle fire down. To move a hand or head above the level of the ground meant a wound.
"This won't do," said the Colonel, as he made his morning visit on his hands and knees.
"It's like a penny shooting show, Colonel," said Bill.
"Why?"
"Me an' the boys are doin' running man for them fellers over there. They chip bits on yer head, an' bits on yer chest. It ain't comfortable. It ain't war."