I had finished breakfast half an hour, and now loafed by my funk-hole while the colonel shaved. The corporal came over to me, dirty and very tired. He looked at me, head on one side, until I wondered what he wanted. At last he said: “Have you heard about Lewis?”
“What about Lewis?” I answered.
“Had his head blown off this morning.”
“My God!” I said. We looked at each other a little while. “How did it happen?”
“He was Sands’s telephonist first shift. When Sands got to the other end there was no sign of Lewis, and I was told to ask about him on my road. An infantry bloke said there was a dead artilleryman round the corner. I found Lewis there all right, covered with a sack. Half his head’s blown off.” The corporal felt his chin, which badly wanted a shave.
“Damned bad luck for poor Lewis,” I said, after a silence. And what more was there to say? The corporal shrugged his shoulders, lingered a moment, and went off to his dug-out.
I sat down on the ground to wait for the colonel. It was early yet; but already the sun menaced us. It was the start of another heartbreaking day. The flies in their tens of thousands blackened every shady place, and made ready to drowse and drone through the noon. For the thousandth time since breakfast, I brushed them from my lips. While I sat there with drooped head, thinking a little of Lewis and a good deal of nothing at all, Sands climbed down the path towards me. I got up.
“Lake, the colonel won’t want you this morning. You are to wait here for Bombardier Norris and the stretcher, and guide him to Lewis. You know where Lewis is: in the communication trench leading to Clayton’s. Afterwards you can go on to the B Battery observing station. The colonel is going that way.”
I answered, “Yes, sir,” and he said nothing more, yet he did not go away, but stayed on smiling vacantly and looking at his fingers. I think he had a sneaking liking for me, as had I for him. And thinking of Lewis, at last I said: “There won’t be any of the first lot left by the time this is over. We joined too soon.”
He answered with a snort of appreciation. “Yes, it will be the hundredth battalion which comes back. And the girls will hooray and the papers will talk about heroes, and it will be forgotten we ever went.” He waved the flies from his face, and then he said: “Well, you understand about Lewis?” And away he went.