CHAPTER XI

The Corporal came back. As soon as he entered the hole, he called out, “Reilly, you stay here. McDonald, Gunn and Lamont are coming with me. We’re going out on a raid. Get ready, lads.”

“Aw! Aw! Aw!” cried McDonald. “What about the rations? Is there going to be nothing in our bellies when we die?”

“Corporal,” whispered Reilly. “Lamont is...”

“He can’t touch him now,” said Gunn.

“What?” said the Corporal, excitedly. “What about Lamont? Asleep again? Hey! You!” He dashed over to Lamont and seized him.

“You can’t touch him,” cried Gunn, exultantly.

“Christ!” said the Corporal, dropping Lamont. “He’s stiff.”

“Five gone now,” said Reilly in a gloomy voice. “There’s something queer about it. I say, Corporal. Half a mo’.”

“What?” cried the Corporal. “What do you want? No time now. Get ready. Get those bombs ready. As soon as the Lewis gun opens fire.... What do you want?”

Reilly drew him aside and whispered in his ear, “Let Gunn stay here. I’ll go. You can’t...”

“You’re detailed, blast it,” cried the Corporal.

“But don’t you see...”

“You stay here. Your orders are...”

Gunn knelt beside Lamont and began to pray with his hands clasped. Then he got to his feet and cried, “Come on now. I’m ready.”

Soon the Lewis gun opened fire.

“Up,” said the Corporal.

They swung out of the hole all together, ran and dropped. Reilly stretched himself and lay flat against the side of the hole with his rifle pointed towards the enemy.

“No bloody fags,” he said. “Nothing.”

##