“I think⁠—”

“Then out!”

We make for the ditch beside the road, and stooping, run along it. The shelling follows us. The road leads towards the munition dump. If that goes up there won’t be so much as a bootlace left of us. So we change our plan and run diagonally across country.

Albert begins to drag. “You go, I’ll come on after,” he says, and throws himself down.

I seize him by the arm and shake him. “Up, Albert, if once you lie down you’ll never get any farther. Quick, I’ll hold you up.”