Sec.3

On the eve of the attack Doe and I were in our dug-out discussing what part the C.O. would allot us in the operation, when an orderly appeared at the door.

“Brigade Bombing Officer here, sir?” he asked, saluting.

“Sure thing,” said Doe.

“The C.O. wants to see you at once, sir.”

Doe shrugged his shoulders. “Quand on parle du loup, on en voie le queue. Now we shall hear something.”  And he followed the orderly.

A trifle jealous, I awaited his return.  He came back with joy sparkling in his eyes—­how far assumed I know not—­and, flinging himself down on a box, cried:  “Rupert, the show in this sector is my show!  They’re going to blow up the jolly old mine; and the minute it goes up I’ve got to take the bombers over the top and occupy the crater.  Then, if I think it possible, I’m to go further forward to the whizz-bang gun and blow it into the middle of the next war. Voyez-vous, they know they’ve a competent young officer in charge of the bombers.  Rupert, we shall not stay long in the crater.  And, if you please, the C.O. wishes to see Captain Ray immediately.”

“Which means I’m for it too,” said I, as I went out.

The C.O. explained my share.  I was to take over all my company and capture the trenches on the right of the crater.  On capturing them, I was to open a covering fire to enable the bombers to go further forward.  A similar move was being made by B Company on the bombers’ left.  In short, a wedge was being driven into the Turkish line, and the point of the wedge—­Doe’s bombing party—­was to penetrate to the gun-position.  Both my task and Doe’s were dam-dangerous, said the Colonel, but Doe’s was the damnedest.  On the effectiveness of my flanking support might depend his life and the success of the raid.  Did I see?

“Yes, sir.”

The hour of the attack was not known, he explained.  Since the whole Helles line was moving, the final order must come from G.H.Q.  But everybody was to be armed and ready in the trenches by dawn....  And ... well, good evening, Ray.

It was about dusk.  I returned to the dug-out, and by candle-light wrote out my company orders.  Then Doe and I decided that we ought to put together a few letters.  And Doe tossed his pencil gaily into the air and caught it.  The action was to cover with a veneer of merriness a question which it embarrassed him to ask.

“Oughtn’t we to make a jolly old will?”

“Sure thing,” agreed I, in imitation of him.  “It’ll be rather fun.”

Sec.4

Soon after Battalion Orders were out, Monty came and sat down in our dug-out.  We had known he would come, and our reception of him was planned.  Doe, whose affected gaiety had begun to give place to a certain wistfulness as the darkness fell, spoke first: