My shell hole looked pretty luxurious to me; Chiaradio had swiped a piece of corrugated iron for a roof, and it wasn’t as wet as it might have been. I was glad to crawl in between him and Robbins and go to sleep.
At about 9 A. M. Heinie set to work to blow us out. His range was fifty meters short, fortunately, and he shelled away on a line between us and Vieville with characteristic diligence and thoroughness. The flying fragments made promenading unhealthy. Lt. Schuyler came over to my bivvy with a rumor that the Austrians had quit. Two minutes after he left, a long jagged piece came whistling along and half buried itself just where he had been sitting, and six inches above my foot. Cheery-O used it to hang his mess kit on thereafter.
That night we only furnished two small working parties, and the rest of us had a cushy sleep.
On Friday, the 20th, the Co. Cmdrs. were assembled at Bn. Hdq., and were told that we were to relieve the 2nd Battalion on the night of the 21st. That afternoon we went up to reconnoiter the position we were to take over. The guides took us up past the Engineer dump, through the woods to the 2nd Bn. Hdq. Here we found Major Adee and his staff taking advantage of a quiet hour to have lunch above ground. They were using a couple of German dugouts as headquarters—very good ones, about 20 feet under ground and well timbered.
Major Adee seemed to have aged twenty years. His face was lined and haggard with care and responsibility. His runner had been killed at the entrance to the dugout that morning by a shell.
Fleischmann and I with two runners apiece, our officers and top sergeants, were furnished with a guide to take us to the outpost line. B and D Cos. were to relieve H Co.; A and C were to hold the line of resistance.
It was a long two kilos up to the outpost line, especially as we had to keep under cover of the woods all the way. We crossed and recrossed one of the little narrow gauge railways that the Germans had running everywhere. My right ankle, which I had broken the previous fall playing football at Camp Dix, had a touch of rheumatism, and the nagging pain from it made a background for all the rest of my time in the line. Even now when I think about the Limey sector, the old ankle comes through with a reminiscent twinge. I suppose each of you had some corresponding petty aggravation which worried you absurdly out of proportion to its intrinsic importance.
We toiled up the little wooded hill at the edge of the Bois Hanido, and passed a gun pit, the ground around strewn with German arms, equipment, and clothing, and several dead Germans lying about. Just on the other side of the hill was a German rest camp, with several bunk houses, a movie theatre, and a little open air Catholic chapel, with a wooden cross.
At the bottom of the hill we came to the narrow gauge railway again, followed it up a little way, and then turned down one of the straight paths that the Boche cut through the woods, barring all other approaches with barbed wire, and commanding these with machine guns. It was a good stunt, too, as we found out later. After you’ve struggled in barbed wire for a while you’ll take a chance on machine gun bullets to get on a path.
It was not far to H Co.’s headquarters. There we found Capt. Ressiguie, commanding the company—a most cool-headed, courageous and efficient officer. Lt. Col. Budd was also there, inspecting the outpost. The company headquarters was a shelter half stretched over a two foot ditch. Earlier in the afternoon, the left flank platoon had had a skirmish with an enemy machine gun patrol, losing two men killed and a couple wounded, including Lt. Stern. We made our reconnaissance and started back, arriving at our own Bn. Hdq. by nightfall. There we were issued battle maps of the sector and the relief order, which makes the arrangements down to the last detail on paper.