“We’ve got ’em,” said the young gentleman by my side, in a cheerful way.

The officer with the megaphone looked across and smiled.

“We may as well give them a salvo. They won’t like it a bit.”

A second or two later there was a tremendous crash as the four guns fired together. “Repeat!” came the high voice through the megaphone.

The still air was rent again⁠ ⁠… In a waterlogged trench, which we could not see, a German pumping-party had been blown to bits.

The artillery officers took turns in the observation posts, sleeping for the night in one of the dugouts behind the front trench instead of in the billet below.