At first we thought the advance would be
comparatively easy, but when we entered the village of St. Julien, the
German coal boxes were falling all around us. So far our casualties were
light.
To the left of the village we formed in field skirmishing order--about five
paces apart--but before the formation of five successive lines or waves was
completed, each man was easily eight paces away from his nearest mate
instead of five. We were told that our objective was an enemy trench system
about four hundred yards in length.
It is impossible to convey in words the feeling of a man in such a
situation as this. Apparently none of us actually realized the significance
of what we were about to undertake. Probably it was because we were no
longer in the trenches, and because we had been out and in the open all the
night before.
We stood there waiting. Overhead there was the continuous "Crack, crack,
crack!" of enemy machine gun and other bullets. It was evident that we had
already traversed a mile of our way, and that only half a mile lay ahead of
us. The enemy bullets were flying high. I heard no command; I do not think
any command was given in words, but of a sudden we heard a "Click!" to the
left.
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