THE TWELFTH—NEW STYLE.
(Dreamt in a dug-out.)
In my dream it was my first Twelfth after the ending of the War.
The party moved off in file up the slope of the moor, Sir Percy on his pony in front, then the guests with rifles at the trail, next the bearers and orderlies, and in the rear the ammunition-limbers and regimental baggage. A ration-party would follow later. There was to be no singing on the march, but pipes were allowed.
Just as we neared the crest of the hill, at a notice bearing the legend, "Keep below," the whole party entered a deep "boyau" leading right up to the trenches in front, from which branched off various passages to the gun pits, or butts, as we used to call them.
Our position was semi-circular in form and about three-quarters of a mile long; its main strength lay in a chain of machine-gun emplacements at intervals of about two hundred yards. These were, needless to say, all armoured, but it was nevertheless considered bad form to fire along the line.
Further back there were a couple of Archies and a battery of eighteen-pounders.
Our instructions had been as follows: "At 10 A.M. the artillery will open on enemy's main positions with H.E., and at the same time the Archies will maintain a barrage along the far side, to keep them from breaking away to Smithson's moor (a poor sportsman, Smithson; uses lachrymatories. All the birds we got off his place last year actually had tears in their eyes still). At 10.15 you will open fire with machine guns and rifles on anything under three hundred yards. At 10.30 the firing will stop and you will make your way to the assembly trenches, where bombs will be served out. At 10.35 the entire force will advance in open order. No prisoners will be taken."