“We settled ourselves in there and the more adventurous among us took up sniping positions and fired at anything that moved. George’s hand was now a mass of pus as if he had dipped it in custard, and my shoulder was no better, the wound bubbling away in its own juices in the heat. Neither of us could hold a rifle but we had two good arms between us, his left, my right, and we were put to moving sandbags from the back of the trenches to the front. The stretcher-bearers came as the sun was going d...own and two of them got hit by a blast; one died immediately and the other crawled above us groaning, a great hole in his chest. We were told to take their place, one-handed stretcher-bearers, and we lifted him on it and scurried with it back the way we had advanced all day, sideways, bent like crabs. At the beach now there were rafts with piles of wounded on them, pulled by other boats with piles of the same. We lifted him on the raft we could reach, said nothing to his curses in that fine Birmingham accent, and as the raft pulled off I had an idea.MoreLessRead More Read Less
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