The thing happened under peculiar circumstances. It was the second time in
my army career that I volunteered for anything. The first time was the
night I went on listening post; the second time I got plugged, and plugged
for good.
We had repulsed the enemy several times. We were running short of
ammunition and our position was enfiladed. It was absolutely necessary, if
all of us were not to lose our lives, that some one should bring up
ammunition.
The ammunition dump lay about a mile back of our line. An officer called
for volunteers to creep back for a supply. It was broad daylight, but
twenty-eight other lads and myself stepped forward willing to attempt the
task.
The men who remained behind had a command to keep up a rapid fire over the
enemy trenches which would lend us some cover. No matter how perfect this
covering may be, it is never completely effective in silencing the enemy
fire. Quite a number of bullets scattered about us as we clambered along
the short communication trench, and up into the open. This was my first
experience in running away from bullets, and I proved in the first five
seconds of that journey that a man, no matter what his propensities for
winning medals may be, can run much faster from bullets than he can toward
them.
Pages:
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184