He touched Major Kemp on the
shoulder.
"Have some of this, Major," he said.
The burly Kemp roused himself and took the proffered cup gratefully.
Then, looking round, he said--
"Hallo, Ayling! You arrived? Whereabouts in the line were you?"
"I got cut off from the Battalion in the advance up Central Boyau,
sir," said Ayling. "Everybody had disappeared by the time I got the
machine-guns over the parapet. However, knowing the objective, I
pushed on towards the Church Tower."
"How did you enjoy yourself passing Fosse Eight?" inquired Captain
Wagstaffe.
"Thank you, we got a dose of our own medicine--machine-gun fire, in
enfilade. It was beastly."
"We also noticed it," Wagstaffe intimated. "That was where poor
Sinclair got knocked out. What did you do?"
"I signalled to the men to lie flat for a bit, and I did the same. I
did not know that it was possible for a human being to lie as flat as
I lay during that quarter of an hour. But it was no good. The guns
must have been high up on the Fosse: they had excellent command. The
bullets simply greased all round us. I could feel them combing out my
hair, and digging into the ground underneath me."
"What were your sensations, _exactly_?" asked Kemp.
"I felt just as if an invisible person were tickling me," replied
Ayling, with feeling.
"So did I," said Kemp. "Go on."
"I heard one of my men cry out that he was hit," continued Ayling,
"and I came to the conclusion that we would have a better chance as
moving targets than as fixed; so I passed the word to get up and
move forward steadily, in single file.
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