Thus the order was to count at least five--one, two, three, four,
five--slowly and carefully, after the fuse was lighted and before the bomb
left the hand.
Every one had his eyes glued to the periscope, except myself. I watched the
fuse in the hand of that red-haired guy. He started to count--one, two, and
his hand began to shake; at three his hand was moving about violently; at
four the bomb fell. I wonder if there is any one in the world who thinks
that we stopped there to see that bomb explode. No, we didn't.
There was a chance right there for the quick thinker, for the man of
extraordinary initiative, to win the V.C. Somehow our initiative took us in
the other direction. It is really wonderful how fast the average man can
beat it when he knows there is certain death should he linger in one spot
very long. The way we traveled round the traverse and up the trenches was
not slow.
Usually there is something going on, but there are days when a man would
not think there was a war at all. It is not every day at the front that
both sides are shelling and strafing. We once faced a certain Saxon
regiment and for nearly two weeks neither side fired a bullet.
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