Senior Subaltern, and he shoved his revolver close to the man’s face and fired. Those clutching hands dropped, and the German crashed to the steps with the back of his head blown away.
“Bomb down there,” yelled MacTaggart to the men who had gathered outside, and tore on to the left to meet MacRae’s party at the point of the salient. Still there was not a German in the trench, and the M.G. emplacement at the point stood empty with the mouth of a dug-out below it. Up the trench towards him came a stream of running men, and he had nearly fired when he saw that they were kilted, and Charles MacRae was at the head. He turned to bomb the big dug-out. From below came a shout, “You bastards! You English bastards.”
“English be ———!” yelled a man behind him hoarsely, “Scotch, you ——— liars,” and a bomb shot down the stair.
Even in the midst of the shouting and the explosions, he had time to laugh at that.
As he stood watching them bombing he suddenly became aware of one of his own men from the right coming towards him at a sort of staggering run. Blood was streaming down the man’s face and neck, and then MacTaggart saw one of the most terrible sights in the world, fear in the eyes of a brave man.
