Reginald Grant, S.O.S. Stand to!
“ It was as much a trench at that spot as any bog-hole. Its only virtue lay in the fact that if we crouched low enough into the water and mud we could escape the watchful eye of the enemy. We stumbled along through the inky blackness toward our gun positions, shrinking our anatomy to its smallest dimensions each time a flare shot up, and I was commencing to congratulate myself that we would reach our destination without any further hurt than the elimination of the thirteenth man;—I took a sort of sad comfort in the superstitious thought;—but we had still another target to pass. ”
