Anonymous, With a Highland Regiment in Mesopotamia
“ The sound of battle was dying, even as the day was dying. "The world was like a nun, breathless in adoration." And we soldiers, absorbed in this remote corner of the world war, intent on the hour immediately before us, lay there breathless in expectancy. Suddenly our 18-pounders opened gun fire. With rare precision shrapnel burst all along the enemy trenches, and at 6-30, as the shelling slackened in intensity, the Highlanders rose as one man, their bayonets gleaming in the setting sun, and, with the Gurkhas on their left, rushed across the open. There was little work for the bayonet. ”
