Royal Field Artillery
First World War Diary with Anecdotes
The diary and anecdotes of John Price Nunn who was a Driver and Signaller for the 2nd East Lancashire Division.
The diary and anecdotes of John Price Nunn who was a Driver and Signaller for the 2nd East Lancashire Division.
At the wagon line, excepting for ordinary routine duties and the taking up of ammunition at night, the off duty periods were utilized in various ways. Quite a few in the evenings went into La Panne to the establishments and consumed beer or white or red wine, returning to their camp usually in an intoxicated state. Others just lounged around in the sand dunes, but there was one of the more entertaining drivers who had acquired a gambling game called Monte Carlo. In the game the betting ran from even stakes to 66:1 and quite a number of the drivers gambled what they had on the game. The owner of the game was making a small fortune. Arising out of a discussion on gambling games, a fellow driver Jack Barr(?) suggested to me that it might be possible to buy a roulette table of some sort. In reply I said “why buy one if I could make one”? So we got together and discussed what would be required. The idea being that if I could make one we would become partners and he would be the croupier. In my spare time in the office I worked out how it could be made and after his agreement I set about making it. This is what I made
The roulette board was formed by battening two or three pieces of board together and cutting it to a circular state about 15 inches diameter. From a pack of cards, clubs and spades, diamonds and hearts were cut out and stuck to the board as shown in the picture. The old man which is shown at every fifth interval was taken from several Players cigarette packets front covers. The arrow was carved out in wood and was pivoted by means of a nail onto a crinkly edge bottle top to enable smooth running rotation. Inserted in the arrow head was a thin piece of celluloid about 2 inches long and fastened by pens to the head. On the board between each of the clubs, diamond spots etc were thin nails, and through these nails the celluloid strip ricocheted so that there could be no argument where the arrowhead had stopped after rotation. In addition to the roulette board there was a rectangular piece of canvas divided into squares and marked with hearts diamonds clubs spades and the Old Man and in addition two of the squares coloured red and black. The betting was as follows:
Evens on red or black
2:1 on diamonds, clubs, hearts or spades
5:1 The Old Man
Altogether there were about 18-20 Old Men. It took a little time to make this article but when it was finished Jack Barr acted as croupier and together we very soon made quite a lot of money. Since the money was not really of very much use to us except to buy food and drink in La Panne we used to put some of the takings on the Monte Carlo gambling game where we could get bigger odds, but the chances were less and we never really benefited from the game. Later after moving from La Panne we got very much less chance of running the board and slowly it got forgotten.
Another gap in my diary which will enable me to explain how I came to be selected for a signalling course. First of all I should explain that Major Bell since the time he was posted to our Battery was not a popular officer and my relationship (whilst I was in the office) was never a happy one. As previously stated the office work was only slight and part of this work was writing out the orders of each day (which I got from the Sergeant Major) and getting them signed by the Major for posting onto a notice board. When we were at La Panne wagon line although the rank and file slept in bivouacs the officers were in bell tents. When the orders of the day were ready for signing I would take them to the flap of the bell tent which Major Bell occupied and coming to attention I would say “Major Bell Sir, the orders of the day for signature” and he would reply “Come on in Nunn”.
In most instances the Major was already completely dressed so I would slip in and come smartly to attention and salute him at the same time as holding out the orders for signature. There were however several instances when Major Bell was incompletely dressed, perhaps wearing only riding breeches and a sweater. I knew I was not to salute him because his dress was incomplete, since the salute is only required to be given to a commissioned officer or to put it more bluntly to the uniform which identifies his rank. So on these occasions when he was not fully dressed I cut out the salute and just came smartly to attention. I can well remember the dirty looks he gave me when I did this. Of course had he been a likeable officer I am sure I would always have given a salute whatever his condition of apparel was. On one particular occasion when I was presenting the orders and he was in riding breeches and sweater and at the time the Sergeant Major was with him. I came to attention only and presented the orders to him. With a nasty glint in his eyes he said to me “Why don’t you salute me”? I was so much taken aback by his sudden challenging query that I did not stop to think of a more tactful reply but blurted out “But you are not fully dressed sir”. He almost went into convulsion and turned to the Sergeant Major and said “Sergeant Major take him away and educate him” - my action had been one of dumb insolence, but he could not put me on charge.
So on the following day Major Bell came to the office and asked me if I would like to go on a signalling course – knowing that if I went on such a course I would lose my office job and at the end of the course be sent up to the gun line. I told him that I wouldn’t like to go on the course. He did not reply to me but next morning came to me and said “you are posted to this signalling course”.
I have often wondered since, whether I would ever have been put on the signalling course had I not taken advantage of Kings Regulations and had continued to treat him with unrequited respect.
So I was sent on this course and sometime later on a more advanced course and became a signaller Vessel(?) in all forms of messages including Semaphore, Morse, including the use of the Heliograph.
This was the period of the dreadful warfare that took place at Passchendaele. I remember the Major parading the Battery in a field (it could have been the whole Brigade that was paraded). We were told that there was to be a vital attack on the German position and that each gun had to be supplied with so many rounds ( I think about 1000 rounds per gun) before the action started. He told us that we were not to consider ourselves in anyway, that our own life was not our own and that it was to be a concerted action by everyone. The guns would be taken to their respective positions along a corduroy track as far as possible and afterwards they would be man handled to their exact position. The ammunition would be taken by packhorse or mule to each gun. Each horse or mule would carry 10 rounds of 18 pound (8kg) shells; so each driver would take 20 rounds a time and 4 to 5 journeys made each early morning starting from about 1 or 2am.
The future was not a very bright prospect.
To my dear sweetheart (31 Crop Street, Broughton, Manchester)
Should anything happen darling this would of course stand on my last message to you. I would wish most of all to tell you dear heart of mine, that my love for you was ever true, I have never wavered in it once. I am, as everyone else is here, having hard times. I pass many dangerous points in my work and perhaps were it not for the thoughts of you I would find it much harder to do my duty. However I must make this short now and to close may you know that I have always done as you would have wished of me and I shall forever remain your most devoted and ever loving sweetheart.
xxxxxxxxx John (Ypres Oct 24th 1917)
Also a special entry with no date attached but presumably Oct 24th 1917
One never knows what will happen to one up here so should it be my misfortune to meet with anything serious it would be my wish that all my personal belongings be sent to 91 Camp Street, Broughton, Manchester to my dear mother and father with my fondest love.
From Monday October 8th 1917 when we joined the Battle for Passchendaele until Sunday October 28th when we pulled out from this dreadful front was a period of nearly 3 weeks in which I (along with all others engaged in this battle) experienced conditions so frightful as to be indescribable.
The town of Ypres, long before our Brigade passed through it had been reduced to rubble and what was left of it consisted of cellars which had not been filled in by fallen debris. To the north east of Ypres and over a large area surrounding the Menin Road and up to Passchendaele area and beyond, which had been once a lovely rural area of green fields, dotted here and there with varying wooded glades, was at the time of our going into action a devastated expanse of mud and shell holes (water filled).
The wooded glades were unrecognizable as such for these had received the most damage and appeared only as scarred and stunted trunks with splintered tops. The roads also had been so maimed by high explosive shells that the quickest means of repair had been to install heavy logs laid side by side (known as corduroy tracks) and footpaths consisted of duck boarding.
German Soldiers on a log cordury track
To slip off these tracks and footpaths was to invite disaster. On either side of those corduroy tracks is almost a continuous existence a medley of war vehicles of all kinds which had either been blown off by explosion or tipped off because of the loss of their use. Amongst the vehicles were the gruesome sights of the remains of horses and mules, many of which lay with their bellies ripped open and their bowels trailing out.
Leading to the very first gun position that we held at Passchendaele there was a minor roadway which was called the sunken road. This was I think so named because it lay behind the remains of a hedge. The road was about a half mile long and all the shell holes (of which there were many) had been partially filled in and bridged with birchwood lain across them. On foot alone they could be negotiated without much difficulty but traversing them with two packhorses was quite a feat. Since the road was narrow in any case it was necessary to lengthen the rein of the leading horse. In doing this it was impossible for the driver to test the birchwood over any shell hole before the leading horse stepped on it.
After many trips along this sunken road with ammunition I experienced one trip which led me to discard the road for any further trips. In this incident the leading horse slipped on brushwood which was supported on mud and water only and the horse sank, taking the brushwood with it, until its underbelly touched the muddy infilling. Of course the horse was laden with 10 eighteen pound shells, this weight along with the clumbersome pack equipment, caused the horse to flounder in my attempt to get it to climb out of the hole on to more solid ground. Meanwhile the other horse fortunately, though loose, stood still where I had left it. I was of course in the mud to the same extent as the horse. There was only one idea left open to me, and this I did although it took me ages to accomplish. I took off each of the shells from the pack and laid them on solid ground. Then I got the horse out of the hole and then put each shell back again in the pack, and then proceeded to the gun position with extreme care but I was then in a very exhausted state, and in a very shocking physical condition. All the time during the incident I was aware that at any minute there might be shells bursting in the vicinity which would have intensified the whole procedure. I have often wondered whether I would have panicked in such circumstances and have beaten a hasty retreat leaving the horses to their fate.
On my return to the ammunition dump I found that many of the pack-horse drivers disliked this sunken road approach so much that they preferred to take their pack-horse loads indirectly to the gun position by circuitous routes around the perimeter of the shell-holes. It was a longer route and very much open to being observed by Fritz but nevertheless very much better than the assigned route.
On these circuitous routes, which could be a different route every time according to how many more shells having been exploded, there were sites here and there which chilled the spine and at the same time speeded the delivery of the load. One of these sites was a wader with a man’s leg in it, another with a mans hand sticking out of the mud and another occasion the shoulder only of a man (with no head) just above the bottom of a shell-hole.
On reaching the gun position no time was lost in unloading. I remember on one occasion telling the gunner unloading the shells what I had seen and he took me to a concrete wall shelter not far away in which there lay a dead man whose head was crawling with ants and was in a very decomposed state. The reader may no doubt think that It would have been the decent thing to bury the corps ebut it would have been a waste of time. Apart from it being a very precarious job the body stood quite a good chance of being blown out of it’s grave within a short time of burial.
To get the guns into their action positions on the 8th October it was necessary to use eight horse teams to get them as near as possible through the mud and after that the guns had to be manhandled.
Regarding the transport of ammunition to the gun line – this was the only front I was at when pack-horse transport had to be employed since the guns had to be manhandled to their position, so gun limbers would have to be treated likewise and this would have been very much slower than the use of the pack-horse.
The horses carried the ammunition by the following means. Over each horses back was strapped a stout canvas container having 4 pockets either side of it’s flanks and after filling these pockets with the shells, the tops of the shells protruded sufficiently to allow 2 more shells (1 each side) to be placed horizontally. It was quite an arduous task for a driver (most of whom were slightly built) to lift these shells in (during loading) and out (during delivery) and after 2 journeys carrying 40 shells in all most drivers were tired out and needed rest at the wagon line.
It will be noted by the war diary entry of Thursday October 11th that I had contracted a cold and was in a feverish state. This pack-horse duty together with the frightful conditions and tension of the situation eventually got me down to a state where I had to report sick and this I did at the wagon line on the following day. Both of my lips were covered in cold sores which took some time to clear up. Conditions at the wagon line were not much better than they were at the advanced wagon line. I was put on light duty which meant that I did all normal duties except for night duty and this took me to the 16th October when I was considered by the doctor to be right for duty again. I was however not in a very good state since I had now developed toothache which stayed with me on and off until the 29th October when I had the offending tooth out.
With my lips being extremely sore and puffed up I found difficulty in eating and on 1 or 2 occasions visited the officers cook house where Jimmy Maguire the officer’s cook made me some soft toast. It was on 1 of these occasions at night that Jerry dropped a bomb a little too close and put the wind up us all (see entry October 15th)
On Wednesday October 17th I got the fried eggs and bacon from Jimmy Maguire for breakfast, for this was not the kind of ration issued to the rank and file.
On October 23rd I was considered fit enough to back to the advance wagon line for further pack-horse transport duty.
The previous experience of such duties was still very vivid in my mind and thus the very thought of a second dose of this had no attraction for me at all. The state of my mind will be appreciated in the reading of my special diary entry of October 24th. These indicate the very apprehensive state of my mind.
On Oct 25th Fritz was shelling in places but not dangerous. Most of our men were half unloaded at the position when I got there. When I was within 5 yards Fritz spotted us and sent his shells over without ceasing’. I turned my horses and took to my heels though I thought at the time there was no chance of getting away without being hit or perhaps killed. I ran only a few yards when one dropped so close it deafened me. I couldn't hear anything. Every time I saw a burst I got between my horses so that should I get hit it would be in my legs only. I do not know how I escaped injury as the horses were tripping me up every step. I ran till I absolutely gasped and when I stopped there was not a soul in sight. When on the main road a good many passed me riding furiously and on reaching A Battery loading dump I found all my mates.
This kind of incident was being experienced by all pack horse columns supplying ammunition to the whole of the gun batteries on the Passchendaele front. In many instances when such incidents occurred – horses would buck away from their drivers and bolt away across the shell holes and I have many times seen isolated horses in the distance. Eventually unless they were killed, they would be picked up, many times by infantry men and taken back to a base near Ypres, to be returned later by those who could recognise them.
I can remember seeing 20-30 horses tethered to a line on the outskirts of Ypres waiting to be picked up. Some of the drivers in our own Battery made use of this situation as a means to lose an unmanageable horse or a kicker or a biter and retrieve one from the collected batch that seemed to be more placid. This idea caught on very quickly until the chances of being able to select a placid horse over a period became very slight and drivers began to find that their selected horses were even worse kickers and biters than the ones they had given up or lost.
After five days of pack horse duty the Battery came out of action and we were moved to a resting place.
None of us knew the results of our efforts during the past 3 weeks, of course we now know that it was a fruitless affair with a horrendous loss of life.
To sum up this period I quote from John Terraine “The Great War 1914-18" as follows:
The German official monograph calls Oct 4th ‘The Black Day’ ."We came through it only with enormous losses” says Ludendorff. But what followed was for the British the most harrowing disappointment of all: the weather broke again, once more the rain fell in drenching torrents. “Our most effective ally” Prince Rupprecht called it. The ground became “a porridge of mud”. Under these frightful conditions, hardly describable as words, the British passed into the last and worst period of the campaign – signalled by the Battle of Polcapelle (Oct 9th), Passchendaele First Battle (Oct 12th), Passchendaele Second Battle (Oct 26th). The dreadful list of casualties shown in British Official History from Oct 4th- Nov 12th – 10,611.
“For the first time the British Army lost its spirit of optimism.”
On the morning of Saturday Oct 27th we moved out of action, moving back to Brandhoek, and the following day travelled again to 3 or 4 miles outside Watou. Here, since I was still suffering toothache I walked 3 miles to have it taken out.
The Menin Road (below)
From the above date onwards there is a gap in my war diary for the next entry is November 15th and from the reading of this entry and from my memory I know that after a long period of rest (during which he Bgade riand batteries were brought up to full strength again) we were again sent to the Ypres front but this time to Zonebeke Ridge.
My only recollection of what did occur during this long period of rest are brought to my mind by memories of several incidents which are not reported in my War Diary at all.
I remember being encamped during a period of rest in a clearing in the centre of large wooded area and we were there for quite a time. During this resting time several things happened.
1. Many of the men became infected with a form of influenza and were laid sick to such an extent that the ordinary routine work of exercising and watering and feeding the horse had to be done by the few that remained healthy, and I was one of these latter (Bad luck). This also meant extra night picquet duties.
Picquet duties at night in this wood with everyone else asleep tended to be a little eerie and on one night having set down my storm light I walked around a little away from the horse lines and was suddenly startled by seeing something glowing in the distance. For a time I was uncertain what to do about it but as the glow remained constant I went back for the storm light and proceeded to investigate by walking towards the glow. When I got to within a yard or so of where I had seen it the glow seemed to disappear and I could not find it. So I walked away back and the glow reappeared. After a similar repetition I decided to leave the storm light and approach the glow and to my great surprise I discovered the glow came from the stem of a bush just as it entered the ground. I was so intrigued that using my penknife I cut out part of the stem (a piece about one inch thick and 3 or 4 inches long and took it back to the horse lines, and I found out that by shielding this piece from the light of the storm light it would glow. For many days after this incident I carried this piece of root and in darkness it would glow, but eventually it seemed to weaken and later lost its nature and I threw it away.
(typists note: this glow could possibly be explained by the invasion of certain luminous fungi. On a dark night, a heavily infested root or trunk near the ground may show phosphorescence, and it looks like an eerie glow from the root itself. One luminous fungus is the honey mushroom, which commonly invades oak and walnut trees).
2. During “the flu” attack on the men it was thought fit by the C. Officer that they should have more attractive and nourishing food. Of course the healthy ones did not get this class of food – much to their chagrin.
3. When the sick men had sufficiently recovered the C. Officer again thought fit to institute competitive games of all kinds. Football, horse racing etc to take their mind off the recent experience the men had gone through at Ypres. One of these games was a red cross horse race and this was arranged to take place on the outskirts of the wood on some land devoid of grass – in fact the surface was gravel.
The idea of the race comprised of a run of about 75 yards there and back again. Within the 75 yards were jumps of varying heights. The first and last of these jumps being about 2.6 high. There were two competitors to each horse. One of the competitor had to mount the horse bareback at the start, take the horse over the jumps on the outward journey. Then the other competitor had to mount the horse behind the first rider and complete the return journey over the jumps. In each heat 3 horses competed. I entered the competition with a colleague taking the initial rider’s position and we managed to get through to the final heat. But disaster overtook us and on the final jump our horse jibbed and both of us came off, and in my case I slid along the gravel on my forearms which were grazed considerably and had to be bandaged. My arms were very sore for quite some time.
4. During our resting period in the wood there was much speculation as to where our next destination would be. We all hoped that it would not be Ypres again but despite our hopes it was Ypres area but was on the right flank just in front of Zonnebeke.
I cannot remember the guns being taken into action but when I was sent to the gun line I saw that they were in position just behind a shell hole. The approach to the gun line was by corduroy track and like the previous corduroy tracks there were on either side dead horses, guns limber, general service wagon coils of wire, broken duck boards and all manner of damaged and discarded war materials. Because of the repeated shelling of these tracks it was unwise to employ labour on the clearing up of the debris and so it was left to be seen by all those using the track and saved as a grim reminder of what could happen to the user at any moment.
On my first visit to the gun line I remember seeing a dead German soldier on one side of the track lying on his front and the next time I saw him he was lying on his back and on further occasions he had been moved again. There was only one reason for his change of position – that of looting passers by. Of course it was also possible that his army rank and other possessions had been removed to be sent to Red Cross.
As a Signaller our days and nights were spent in a recess in the ground covered by a curved corrugated iron roof and having a few sand bags at the sides and ends to give us a little extra height. At one end on an improvised shelf was a switch board with connections to the Officers quarters and to the wagon lines. These lines had to be kept intact at all times. Usually not a day passed without these lines being broke, mainly by shrapnel and when this happened one of us had to go out and holding the line in his had eventually arrive at the break and mend it. There was also another line to be laid from time to time to a forward observation post, ie a position forward from the gun line and from this position an officer with field glasses was able to pin point features and happenings on the German side of the lines, and perhaps pin point one or more of their guns. Two signallers usually accompanied the officer when observation duty was necessary or useful. There was little to be gained by observation duty unless a position higher than the surrounding ground was available as well as reasonable cover for himself and the two signallers that had accompanied him to enable them to spend 48 hours on this duty.
The telephone lines to Observation Posts were the ones broken most often for the they lay usually just behind the trenches where the majority of the shells were dropped.
So you will understand that neither the officers or the signallers relished being put on forward observational duty.
Whilst the gun line was at Zonnebeke the weather was fair and there was little rain and as a result the surrounding ground (though still a mass of shell holes) had dried off considerably and could be travelled on foot more easily. Nevertheless everyone wore gum boots, as will be read in following diary entries our position was subjected to 3 or 4 hour periods of shell fire every day and night and one result of this was that none of us ever took off our clothes or gum boots since at any minute the C.O. might order us to leave the position if the shelling became too heavy, since there was no urgent need to endanger the lives of the men unnecessarily.
The phase used of ‘bumping out’ refers to our being instructed by the C.O. to leave the site temporarily because of heavy shell fire. The signallers got the order by phone and we then had to pass word on to the gunners and any other ranks on the position, following which we ran either to the rear or side of the position where there was no shelling and as soon as the shelling of the gun position stopped we returned to the guns. We were told that in returning we should as far as possible keep together.
On one of these occasions we had leave in a very great hurry and we scattered at great speed in all directions. In my own case I must have run three quarters of a mile but eventually when I stopped I saw some of the other men and joined up with them. About an hour and half elapsed before we could see that the gun position was quiet once again. Being in a group the decision when to return was usually under the orders of one of the NCOs and reluctantly everyone obeyed. It was our duty to return but for many of us it was an unwilling journey and we certainly did not turn back. When we reached the gun position on this occasion we resumed our normal duties and those that had run in other direction slowly joined us. After a time however it was noticed that Gladman (one of the signallers) had not returned. After an hour or so a search was made for him in case he was either wounded or dead, but no sign of him could be found. Although we did not know at that time what had happened to him he had in fact deserted. Apparently he had run singly from the position and could not summon the courage to return. It was 3 months later he was detected down the line when realizing that he could not get out of the Country he attempted to join another regiment. I shall be referring to this again later in my story.
I well remember being relieved fro the Battery position on Wed Dec 5th. Along with others I came down the corduroy track on A G. S. Wagon which had brought provisions to the gun line. When about half way back along the track Jerry started shelling us and the G.S Wagon driver whipped his horses to a gallop and because of unevenness of the track construction the wagon bumped up and down and rattled about all over the place. It was touch and go whether we all came off it as there was nothing to hold on to but the sides of the wagon. Several of us lost our tin hats due to being bounced up and down. We were however very thankful to get through that area safely.
At Reningelst there were about 30 of us in one of a group of huts situated right out in open country and if my memory holds good we were in the charge of a Lieutenant Whittingham. My War Diary records nothing f the several weeks spent on the signalling course and the only tangible record I have of it is that of a card sent to me from St John’s Church, Higher Broughton at Christmas time. On the reverse of the card is noted that I spent Christmas 1917 and New Year at Reningelst.
For me it was a very happy interlude and the duration of it did much to restore in my mind a more tranquil condition. I cannot remember what happened on Christmas Day but no doubt we were given special rations but on New Years Day I do remember that Lieut Whittingham had made us a special punch. Composed of varying kinds of spirits and delivered hot. This was served to us in enamel pint pots. Since I had not ever taken punch in my life I was not aware of its potency and I imbibed too freely, consuming it rather as if I was drinking tea. I think most of the other signallers experience was similar to mine. There was a second ration for those that wanted it. I did not have a second ration but did finish about half a pint from a signaller who found his distasteful. After this additional portion I remember little else until about 7am the following morning when in waking up I first of all had difficulties in raising my head, but after a time when I did get my head up I found that along with many of the other I was not in bed but on the floor fully dressed and that everything, the faces of the men, the ceiling, the walls etc were green in colour. Very gradually we all regained consciousness but for the rest of the day we were a sorry lot. Since I did not remember getting down to sleep on the floor I must have been so stupefied by the fumes from the punch that I became incapable of supporting myself and I just fell like a log, as all the other men must have done.
After this experience I vowed not to touch punch again or even spirits of any kind and indeed I kept to that vow for a long time and all times when a rum ration was being given I always immediately gave my ration to Drinkwater, until one day when receiving the ration from Quartermaster Hughes he asked me why I was walking away without drinking it. As I hesitated in my reply he said “drink it now” and although it nearly took my breath away I decided that Drinkwater would not get my ration anymore.
It was the night of the O.P. duty that a call came through from Brigade HQ to say that they would be sending a message by Battery operated heliograph and that I was to acknowledge the message by the same means and send the same message back. They gave me 5 minutes to set up the heliograph outside in the open. It was an exercise only. I can remember that I was terribly nervous since not only would I be receiving the message but because of our O.P. being in close proximity to the trenches, no doubt Jerry would perceive the light flashes and maybe follow it up with a shell or two. After a very blundering attempt I got the message and returned it, but it was very eerie since I was by myself and my light when I flashed the message in Morse seemed to send out a tremendous beam of light. I was thankful when the exercise was over.
In most gun positions on the front water for washing purposes was obtained from shell holes and if the water was icy it was quite common for one canvas bucketful to be used by 20 men; so that by the time the last man used it they were washing in very dirty water – but it was much warmer.
There was one gunner named Green who had owned a laundry in civilian life and he was very finicky about the water he washed in. On the first morning I was there he picked up a canvas water bucket and set out over the shell holes in search of rather purer water than the shell holes provided. I remember seeing him set out over the shell holes until he disappeared from view. About half an hour later he returned with a smile on his face and as he was passing the officers quarters one of the officers called over to him “what have you go there Green” Green replied truthfully by saying that he had searched for a long time and had eventually got some clean water from a running stream, whereupon the officer pounded on him and cadged it off him and poor Green had to set off again with another bucket for a supply for himself. The following day and onwards Green was quite content to use shell hole water.
This day was a day of tension because of the continuous shelling in front of the gun position. In the late evening everything had quietened off and everyone was under cover when without warning there was a terrific explosion very close to the signalling pit and the pit itself visibly swayed and leaned over in the direction of its length and then returned to its original position and immediately following there was the sound of material dropping on the roof of the pit and on the ground around it. Everyone gasped and waited expecting to hear another explosion but none came; so after a short time we all came out of the pit to see what had happened.
Since it was dark we could not clearly see what happened but we made a good guess which was confirmed when we saw our position in daylight. A very large shell had dropped outside the telephone end of our pit in such a position that had it been 3 feet nearer to us would have blown our pit and all of us sky high. We were indeed very lucky to be alive and as far as I was concerned was the nearest I had been to death during the war.
The hole made by the explosion was large enough in area and of a depth that would have contained a tram car and the earth removed as well will be seen from the sketch was piled up to the top of the signalling pit. Hence it will be seen that another yard nearer and the pit and all of us inside would have been no more.
There was only one comforting thought, there was no warning shriek that accompanies the approach of shells dropping some distance away. This one was so close that had it been a few feet nearer none of us would have known anything further.
