"This is the life," said Wharton, resuming his usual cheerfulness. "I
take back what I said about our beautiful trench. Just now I appreciate
it more than I would the greenest and loveliest landscape in England or
all America. Oh, it's a glorious trench! A splendid fortress for weak
human flesh, finer than any castle that was ever built!"
"Don't be dithyrambic, Wharton," said Carstairs. "Besides the change is
too sudden. It hasn't been a minute since you were pouring abuse upon
our safe and happy little trench."
"It's time for the Germans to begin," said John, looking at his watch.
"We'd better lie close for the next hour."
They heard the shrieking of more shells and soon the whole earth rocked
with the fire of the great guns. The hostile trenches were only a few
hundred yards in front of them, but the German batteries all masked, or
placed in pits, were much further away. The French cannon were stationed
in like fashion behind their own trenches.
John and his comrades, for the allotted hour, hugged the side of the
trench nearest to the Germans. The shells from the heavy guns came at
regular intervals. Far in the rear men were killed and others were
wounded, but no fragment of steel dropped in their trench. There was not
much danger unless one of the shells should burst almost directly over
their heads, and they were so used to these bombardments that they paid
little attention to them, except to keep close as long as they lasted.
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