" July, 1916.
I have taken a very small part in a very big battle, and am
very ragged (owing to the prevalence of wire everywhere). I was in charge of the ration and ammunition carriers, and the only part of the battle that I saw was when I had to carry bombs to a party of British who wore trying to hang on to a corner of the Boche front line. The scene was more like one of Caton Wood- ville's battle pictures than I had thought possible. An irregular mound, held by a wild mixture of men from all sorts of regi- ments, broken wire, dead, wounded, bombs, machine-guns, shell- holes, confusion, smoke. Unfortunately, just here the attack was a failure, though I hear it was successful elsewhere. Fortunately, the failure was assured before my battalion was called into action. Our losses were very slight; in fact, I who was not in the fighting part, was, as a matter of fact, the only officer of my company to set Loot in a German trench. Now we are clearing up, which is the worst part—burying dead, trying to fetch in wounded, Le. War is bad, I agree with Jim in the enclosed conversation.' . . I never realized before this wook what an awful thing war is. It • Since dead.
may he good for a man and a nation, but it is none the leas- wholly evil in itself."
Previous page
