“It’s awful up there. We lost about thirty men this morning.”
“So I see,” answered the Staff officer. “What the deuce were they doing up here? Are you aware that this is under direct observation from the Germans? Some of you fellows seem to think that because things are quiet for five minutes you can dance pastoral dances in front of your trenches.” He grunted dispassionately. ••••• The sapper captain took up the ball.
“What do you propose to do where the parapet has collapsed?” he enquired.
“I really hadn’t thought about it,” answered Ainsworth, looking at the collapsed trench. “I haven’t had any orders.”
“Orders! On matters of that sort you don’t receive them; you give them. On the road are hundreds of sandbags, thousands of sandbags, millions of” The Staff officer caught his eye. Daily they quarrelled over sandbags. “At any rate,” he went on firmly, “there are lots of sandbags. Go and get them. Fill them. Build up the bally trench, and don’t leave it like that for the next poor blighters. Work on trenches is never finished.
