"We then began to retrace our steps along the railway out to
the Hill. Each man carried two boxes of bombs. Just as we
reached the communication trench, leading on to the Hill
itself, the Boches sent over several of the tear-gas shells.
We stumbled about half-blind, rubbing our eyes. The whole
party realised that the boys holding the Hill needed the
bombs, so we groped our way along as best we could,
snuffling and coughing, our eyes blinking and streaming. We
stood at intervals and passed the bombs from one to the
other, and had nearly completed our job when the word came
down that no one was to leave the Hill, as a counter-attack
was taking place a few minutes before 6 o'clock. We had
then been at it for nearly ten hours. By this time the
bombardment from both sides was stupendous; every gun on
each side seemed concentrated on this one little stretch, on
this small mound.
"Six o'clock came and I heard a shrill whistle and knew that
our boys were just going over the top. Immediately there was
a deafening rattle of machine guns and rifle fire. And then
a stream of wounded poured down this communication trench.
The wounds were terrible, mostly bayonet. None were dressed;
there had been no time, they were just as they had been
received.
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