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Gibbs, Philip, 1877-1962

"The Soul of the War"

At the barrier of sand-
bags which closed up one end of it, two sentinels kept a sharp look-
out so that we could work in peace of mind. Suddenly from a tunnel,
hidden by a fold in the ground, an avalanche of bombs was hurled
over our heads, and before we could collect our wits ten of our men
had fallen dead and wounded, all hugger-mugger. I opened my
mouth to shout a word of command when a pebble, knocked by a
piece of shell, struck me on the head and I fell, quite dazed. But my
unconsciousness only lasted a second or two. A bursting shell tore off
my left hand and I was awakened by the pain of it. When I opened
my eyes and groaned, I saw the Germans jump across the sand-
bags and invade the trench. There were twenty of them. They had no
rifles, but each man carried a sort of wicker basket filled with bombs. I
looked round to the left. All our men had fled except those who were
lying in their blood. And the Germans were coming on. Another slip or
two and they would have been on the top of me. At that moment one
of my men, wounded in the forehead, wounded in the chin, and with
his face all in a pulp of blood, sat up, snatched at a bag of hand
grenades, and shouted out:
"Arise, ye dead!"
He got on his knees, and began to fling his bombs into the crowd of
Germans.


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