"We have done our little bit. I think it is a case of 'Home, John!'
Tell off a party to bring in the C.O., Sergeant-Major."
Then he passed the order.
"Highlanders, retire to the trenches behind, by Companies, beginning
from the right."
"Whatever we may think of the Bosche as a gentleman," mused that
indomitable philosopher, Captain Wagstaffe, as he doubled stolidly
rearward behind his Company, "there is no denying his bravery as a
soldier or his skill in co-ordinating an attack. It's positively
uncanny, the way his artillery supports his infantry. (Hallo, that was
a near one!) This enfilade fire from the Fosse is most unpleasant. (I
fancy that one went through my kilt.) Steady there, on the left:
don't bunch, whatever you do! Thank heaven, there's the next line of
trenches, fully manned. And thank God, there's that boy Bobby tumbling
in unhurt!"
V
So ended our share in the Big Push. It was a very small episode,
spread over quite a short period, in one of the biggest and longest
battles in the history of the world. It would have been easy to select
a more showy episode, but hard to find a better illustration of the
character of the men who took part in it. The battle which began upon
that grey September morning has been raging, as I write, for nearly
three weeks. It still surges backwards and forwards over the same
stricken mile of ground; and the end is not yet.
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