I have seen it done. I have heard the conversation. I dare not write
it. There goes one of the boys, both arms hugging a miscellaneous
assortment of packages. He slips and struggles and swears and falls, then
picks himself up and gathers together the scattered bundles. But what of
the other? A jug held tightly in both hands, he chooses his steps as would
a dainty Coryphee. He dare not trip. He dare not fall. He MUST not spill
one drop. Jugs are hard to replace in France; in fact, it is much easier to
get a jug in Nebraska than in France.
The boys finally reach the trench in safety, and next morning the rations
are issued at "stand-to." "Stand-to" is the name given to the sunrise hour,
and again that hour at night when every man stands to the parapet in full
equipment and with fixed bayonet. After morning stand-to bayonets are
unfixed, for if the sunlight should glint upon the polished steel our
position might be disclosed to some sniper.
To my mind stand-to is more or less a relic of the early days of the war,
when these two hours were those most favored by the Germans for attack, and
so it has become a custom to be in readiness.
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