XII

Going up to Kemmel one day I had to wait in battalion headquarters for the officer I had gone to see. He was attending a court martial. Presently he came into the wooden hut, with a flushed face.

“Sorry I had to keep you,” he said. “Tomorrow there will be one swine less in the world.”

“A death sentence?”

He nodded.

“A damned coward. Said he didn’t mind rifle-fire, but couldn’t stand shells. Admitted he left his post. He doesn’t mind rifle-fire!⁠ ⁠… Well, tomorrow morning.”

The officer laughed grimly, and then listened for a second.

There were some heavy crumps falling over Kemmel Hill, rather close, it seemed, to our wooden hut.

“Damn those German gunners” said the officer. “Why can’t they give us a little peace?”