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Page 40
The next morning was clear and sunny. The sky remained blue all day. Not
a cloud could be seen. "Our turn next"--that was the thought in
everybody's mind.
The evening was starlit once again. As we lay on the floor of the
marquee, wrapped up in our blankets, we heard the sound of bombing and
firing in the distance.
Clear days and clear nights followed each other. Sometimes a train would
stop in front of the C.C.S., hissing and puffing, and throwing up a
great shaft of light. We would curse it, fearing that it would attract
German raiders.
If only the fine weather would come to an end! Give us wind and rain so
that we could lie in bed without being oppressed by anxiety! But the sun
continued to shine and the stars to glitter.
The disaster that had befallen the adjoining C.C.S., which had been
brilliantly lit up during the raid, had acted as a warning example to
us. At nightfall the windows of the theatre were screened with blankets
and no lights were allowed to show in the wards or on the duckboards.
If only the trains would halt somewhere else at night-time!
One day a number of Flemish peasants began to collect hop-refuse in the
surrounding fields. They made three great heaps of it and set fire to
them. In the evening the heaps were burning brightly, but no one took
any notice.
The canteen was crowded. All the benches were occupied and men who were
unable to find seats stood around in groups. There was noisy
conversation and singing and shouting. Nearly everyone was drinking
beer. Those who sat at the tables were playing cards. The air was thick
with tobacco-smoke. Two or three candles were burning on every table.
And all at once, without any warning, the thunder was loosened upon us.
There was an ear-splitting roar and in a moment candles were swept away,
benches and tables overturned, and the whole crowd of men was down on
the floor, trembling and panic-stricken. Another detonation, and then
another, shaking the ground and reverberating, and sending up showers of
stones and loose earth that came rattling down on to the canteen-roof,
while the huddled, sprawling mass of human bodies shook and squirmed
with terror. The droning of propellers could be plainly heard, then it
grew weaker and weaker, until it passed away. One by one the men got up.
Someone lit a candle. Tables, benches, and prostrate bodies had been
thrown into confusion. Cards and coins and overturned beer-mugs littered
the floor. The smell of spilt beer mingled with the smell of stale
tobacco. A few of us stepped out into the open air. We inhaled a
pungent, sulphurous stench. We were sure our camp had been bombed this
time and were fearful lest any of our friends had been hit. We walked
past the Church tent--it was full of rents and holes. And just beyond it
was a huge pit with fresh soil heaped up in a ring around it. Loose
earth and stones and sods were scattered everywhere. Then we saw
something move in the darkness--it was a man on all fours, dragging
himself painfully along and uttering a groan with every breath. Two
bearers arrived with a stretcher. They put it down by his side and
helped him on to it. Then they picked it up and disappeared in the
gloom. We had hardly walked a few yards further when we saw a light
approaching us. We went towards it. A man was staggering slowly along
and leaning on the shoulder of a comrade who was carrying a lantern. He
supported his right elbow with his left hand, down the back of which
two thin streams of blood were winding. His left sleeve was darkly
stained and the blood was dripping from it. His face was very pale and
the corners of his mouth were slightly turned down.
Suddenly the broad white beam of a searchlight swung across the
darkness. For a time it seemed to paw the sky in a hesitating fashion
and then it remained fixed on one spot.
"There 'e is! There 'e is!" someone shouted in an excited voice.
In the white track was a brilliant silver object travelling along at a
great speed. A number of anti-aircraft guns opened fire simultaneously,
and all around the shining fugitive innumerable stars of pale, liquid
gold flashed out and melted away again.
"I bet they're puttin' 'is bloody wind up! Rotten bastard, bombin' a lot
o' wounded! If I get 'old of a Fritz up the line, I'll murder 'im. Yer
won't catch me takin' no more pris'ners, I tell yer."
A flashing star suddenly seemed to envelop the aeroplane.
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