“I’m mighty5 glad to see you, sir,” said Kentucky. “I thought I’d clean lost the battalion6.”
“The battalion’s strung out along here,” said203 the officer. “But I’m just passing along orders to retire a little on the supporting line behind us. So just push along back, and pass the word to do the same to any of ours you run across.” He moved on without further word, and Kentucky continued his rearward journey. He was aiming for the same lot of men he had passed through on his way forward, but in the broken litter of ground missed them, and instead ran on another group of half a dozen sheltering in another deep shell crater7. He explained to them that in obedience8 to orders he had retired9 to join their line.
“Well, you got to keep on retirin’, mate,” said one of them sulkily, “if you’re going to hitch10 in with us. We just got the office too that we’re to take the back track.”
“Hope it’s all right,” said another doubtfully. “Seems so dash crazy to push up here and then go back for nix.”
“That Curly’s such a loose-tiled kid, he might easy have mistook the order,” said another.
“Anyway,” said the first, “this bloke says ’im an’ ’is cobbers is hittin’ out for the back paddock, and——”
“What’s that?” several interrupted simultaneously12, and moved eagerly to the crater edge.204 Clear through the rolling rifle and gun-fire came a shrill13 “Coo-ee,” and then another and another, louder and nearer. Kentucky scrambled15 to the edge with the others and looked out. Down to their right they could see figures climbing out of shell holes, starting up from the furrows16, moving at the run forward, and again they heard the shrill “coo-ee’s” and a confusion of shouts and calls. Kentucky saw the half-dozen Anzacs scrambling17 from their hole like scared cats going over a fence, scuffling and jostling in their haste, heard them shouting and laughing like children going to a school treat. “Come on, mates ... nix on the back track ... play up, Anzacs....” For a moment Kentucky was puzzled. He had plain orders to retire to the support line. “Come on, cully,” shouted the last man out, looking back at him—but if the support line was advancing—”... your bunch is mixin’ it with us.” He paused to catch up and fling along the line the coo-ee that came ringing down again, hitched18 his rifle forward, and doubled off after the others. Kentucky climbed out and followed him. At first the whistle and shriek19 and snap-snap of bullets was continuous, and it seemed impossible that he should continue without being hit, that each step he took205 must be the last. He wondered where the bullet would hit him, whether it would hurt much, whether he would have to wait long for the stretcher-bearers. He slackened his pace at sight of an Anzac officer rolling on the ground, coughing and spitting up frothy blood. But the Anzac saw his pause, and gathered strength to wave him on, to clear his choking throat and shout thickly to “Go on, boy; go on. I’m all right. Give ’em hell.” Kentucky ran on. The bullets were fewer now, although the roar of firing from in front seemed to grow rather than slacken. His breath came heavily. The ground was rough and killingly20 slippery. He was nearly done up; but it was crazy to slow down there in the open; must keep on. He caught up one of the groups in front and ran with them. They were shouting ... where did they get the wind to shout ... and how much further was it to the trench21? Then he saw the men he ran with begin to lift their rifles and fire or shoot from the hip22 as they ran; he saw gray coats crawling from a dug-out a dozen yards to his left, and with a shock realized that there was no trench to cross, that the shells must have leveled it, that he was actually into the enemy position. He ran on, heavily and at a jog-trot, without a thought206 of where he was running to or why he ran. He didn’t think; merely ran because the others did. He stopped, too, when they stopped, and began to fire with them at a little crowd of Germans who emerged suddenly from nowhere and came charging down at them. Several Germans fell; the others kept on, and Kentucky saw one of them swing a stick bomb to throw. Kentucky shot him before he threw—shot with his nerves suddenly grown steel strong, his brain cool, his eye clear, his hand as steady as rock. He shot again and dropped the man who stooped to pick the bomb that fell from the other’s hand. Then the bomb exploded amongst them. There were only four standing24 when the smoke cleared, and the Anzacs were running at them with bayonets at the level. There were only three Anzacs now, but the Germans threw their hands up. Then when the Anzacs slowed to a walk and came to within arm’s length, with their bayonet points up, one of the Germans dropped his hand and flashed out a pistol. Kentucky shot him before he could fire. He had not run in with the others, and was a score of paces away, and one of the Anzacs half-hid the man with the pistol. But he shot knowing—not believing, or thinking, or hoping, but knowing207 he would kill. It was his day, he was “on his shoot,” he couldn’t miss. The other Germans dropped their hands too, but whether to run or fight—the bayonet finished them without a chance to answer that. “Come on, Deadeye,” shouted one of the Anzacs; and when Kentucky joined them, “Some shootin’, that. I owe you one for it too.”
They went on again, but there was little more fighting. Anyhow, Kentucky didn’t fight. He just shot; and whatever he shot at he hit, as surely and certainly as Death itself. There were a great many dead Germans lying about, and the ground was one churned heap of broken earth and shell-holes. They came suddenly on many men in khaki, walking about and shouting to each other. Then a Stonewall corporal met him and pointed25 to where the Stonewalls were gathering26, and told him he had better go join them, and Kentucky trudged27 off towards them feeling all of a sudden most desperately28 tired and done up, and most horribly thirsty. The first thing he asked when he reached the Stonewalls was whether any one had a drop of water to spare; and then he heard a shout, a very glad and cheery shout that brought208 a queer, warm glow to his heart, “Kentuck! Hi, Kentucky!”
“Pug,” he said. “Oh, you, Pug! My, but I’m glad to see you again, boy.”
They talked quickly, telling in snatches what had happened to each since they separated, and both openly and whole-heartedly glad to be together again.
“I got a helmet, Kentuck,” said Pug joyfully29, and exhibited his German helmet with pride. “Tole you I’d get a good ’un, didn’t I? An’ I downed the cove30 that ’ad it meself. We potted at each other quite a bit—’im or me for it—an’ I downed ’im, an’ got ’is ’elmet.”
Now the capture of the village was a notable feat31 of arms which was duly if somewhat briefly32 chronicled in the General Headquarters dispatch of the day with a line or two enumerating33 the depth and front of the advance made, the prisoners and material taken. The war correspondents have described the action more fully11 and in more enthusiastic and picturesque34 language, and the action with notes of the number of shells fired, the battalions35 and batteries employed, and nice clear explanatory maps of the ground and dispositions36 of attackers and defenders37 will no doubt in due209 course occupy its proper place in the history of the war.
But none of these makes any mention of Pug and his helmet, although these apparently38 played quite an important part in the operation. Pug himself never understood his full share in it—remembered the whole affair as nothing but a horrible mix-up of noise, mud, bursting shells and drifting smoke, and his acquirement of a very fine helmet souvenir. Even when Pug told his story Kentucky hardly understood all it meant, only indeed came to realize it when he added to it those other official and semi-official accounts, his—Kentucky’s—own experience, and the mysterious impulse that he had seen change the Anzacs’ retreat into an attack, into the charge which swept up the Stonewalls and carried on into and over the village. To get the story complete as Kentucky came to piece it out and understand it we must go back and cover Pug’s doings from the time Kentucky left him and the others in the shell-hole to carry the message back to the artillery39 F.O.O.
After the German counter-attack was caught in the nick of time and driven back with heavy loss, a good many of the counter-attackers instead of210 risking the run back to the shelter of their trench dropped into shell-holes and craters40, and from here the more determined41 of them continued to shoot at any head showing in the British line. The men of the latter were also scattered42 along the broken ground in what at one time had been the open between two trenches43, but was now a better position and in its innumerable deep shell craters offered better cover than the wrecked44 fragment of a trench behind them. On both sides too the gunners were ferociously45 strafing the opposition47 trenches, but since they dare not drop their shells too near to where they knew their own front lines to be located the tendency on both sides was for the front line to wriggle48 and crawl forward into the zone left uncovered by bursting high-explosive shells and shrapnel. The German and British infantry49 naturally did their best to discourage and make as expensive as possible the forward movement by the opposition, and industriously50 sniped with rifle and machine gun any men who exposed themselves for a moment. But when the counter-attack fell back Pug was for some minutes too busily engaged in helping51 to bandage up a badly wounded man to pay much attention to what the Germans were doing. When211 the job was completed he raised his head and looked out of the shell hole where he and the others were sheltering and peered round through the drifting smoke haze52. He caught dim sight of some moving figures and raised his voice lustily. “Stretche-e-er!” he shouted, and after waiting a minute, again “Stre-tche-e-er!” Amidst all the uproar53 of battle it is not probable that his voice had a carrying power of more than scanty54 yards, but when no stretcher-bearers immediately materialized in answer to his call Pug appeared a good deal annoyed. “Wot d’you s’pose them blanky bearers is doin’?” he grumbled55, then raised his voice and bawled56 again. He shouted and grumbled alternately for a few minutes with just the growing sense of annoyance57 that a man feels when he whistles for a taxi and no taxi appears. Two or three times he ducked instinctively58 at a hiss59 of a close bullet and once at the “Cr-r-ump” of a falling shell and the whistle of its flying splinters, and when he stood to shout he took care to keep well down in his shell hole, raising no more than his head above its level to allow his voice to carry above ground. Apparently, although he thought it unpleasantly risky60 to be above ground there, and in no way out of place212 for him not to expose himself, he took it quite for granted that stretcher-bearers would accept all the risk and come running to his bellowings. But in case it be thought that he expected too much, it ought to be remembered that it is the stretcher-bearers themselves who are responsible for such high expectations. Their salving of broken bodies from out the maelstrom62 of battle, their desperate rescues under fire, their readiness to risk the most appalling63 hazards, their indifference64 to wounds and death, their calm undertaking65 of impossibly difficult jobs, these very doings which by their constant performance have been reduced to no more than the normal, have come to be accepted as the matter-of-fact ordinary routine business of the stretcher-bearers. Pug, in fact, expected them to come when he called, only because he had seen them scores of times answer promptly66 to equally or even more risky calls.
And the stretcher-bearers in this instance did not fail him. A couple appeared looming67 hazily68 through the smoke, and at another call labored69 heavily over the broken ground to him. They saw the wounded man before Pug had time to make any explanation of his call, and without stopping to waste words, slid over the edge of the213 crater, dropped the stretcher in position beside the wounded man, ran a quick, workmanlike glance and touch over the first field-dressings on him, had him on the stretcher and hoisted70 up out of the hole all well inside a couple of minutes.
Pug returned to his own particular business, and settling himself against the sloping wall of the crater nearest the Germans took a cautious survey of the ground before him. At first he saw nothing but the rough, churned-up surface and a filmy curtain of smoke through which the resuming British bombardment was again beginning to splash fountains of shell-flung reek71 and dust. But as he looked a figure appeared, came forward at a scrambling run for a score of paces and dropped out of sight into some hole. At first sight of him Pug had instinctively thrust forward his rifle muzzle72 and snapped off a quick shot, but the man had run on apparently without taking any notice of it. Pug was a fair enough shot to feel some annoyance. “D’jer see that?” he asked his neighbor. “Beggar never even ducked; an’ I’ll bet I didn’t go far off an inner on ’im.” The neighbor was taking a long and careful sight over the edge of the pit. He fired, and without moving his rifle gazed earnestly in the direction he had shot.214 “Wot’s that, Pug?” he said at last, jerking out the empty shell and reloading. “Who ducked? Ah, would yer!” he exclaimed hastily, and pumped out a rapid clipful of rounds. Pug joined in with a couple of shots and the dodging figures they had shot at vanished suddenly. “Wot’s their game now, I wonder,” said Pug. “D’you think they’re edgin’ in for another rush?” He had raised himself a little to look out, but the venomous hiss-zizz of a couple of bullets close past his head made him bob down hurriedly.
“You gotter look out,” said the other man. “A lot o’ blighters didn’t bolt when we cut up their attack. They just dropped into any hole that come handy, an’ they’re lyin’ there snipin’ pot shots at any one that shows.”
Pug banged off a shot, jerked the breech open and shut and banged off another. “See that,” he said. “Same bloke I potted at afore. Not ’arf a cheeky blighter either. Keeps jumpin’ up an’ runnin’ in to’ards us. But you wait till nex’ time—I’ll give ’im run.” He settled himself nicely with elbow-rest, wide sprawled73 legs, and braced74 feet, and waited with careful eye on his sights and coiled finger about the trigger. Two minutes he waited, and then his rifle banged again, and215 he exclaimed delightedly, “I gottim, chum. I gottim that time. See ’im flop75?” But his exclamation76 changed to one of angry disgust as he saw the man he supposed he had “got” rise from behind his cover, beckon78 vigorously to some one behind him, and move forward again another few steps.
Pug blazed another shot at him, and in response the man, in the very act of dropping to cover, stopped, straightened up, and after staring in Pug’s direction for a moment, turned, and lifting the helmet from his head repeated the beckoning79 motion he had made before.
“Well of all the blinkin’ cheek,” said Pug wrathfully; “take that, you cow,” firing again.
“Wot’s up?” said his companion. “Is some bloke stringin’ you?”
“Fair beats me,” said the exasperated80 Pug. “I’ve ’ad half a dozen clean shots at ’im, an’ ’e just laughs at ’em. But I’ve marked the last place ’e bogged81 down into, an’ if ’e just pokes82 a nose out once more, ’e’ll get it in the neck for keeps.”
“Where is ’e?” said the interested chum; “show us, an’ I’ll drop it acrost ’im too when ’e pops out.”
“No,” said Pug firmly, “fair dinkum. ’E’s my216 own private little lot, an’ I’m goin’ to see ’im safely ’ome myself. S-steady now, ’ere ’e comes again. Just ’avin’ a look out, eh Fritz. Orright, m’ son. Keep on lookin’ an’ it’ll meet yer optic—plunk,” and he fired. “Missed again,” he said sadly as he saw a spurt83 of mud flick84 from the edge of the German’s cover. “But lumme, chum, di’jer see the ’elmet that bloke ’ad?” The German it may be remembered had drawn85 attention to his helmet by taking it off and waving it, but Pug at that moment had been too exasperated by the impudence86 of the man’s exposure to notice the helmet. But this time a gleam of light caught the heavy metal “chin-strap” that hung from it, and although the helmet itself was covered with the usual service cover of gray cloth, Pug could see distinctly that it was one of the old pickel-hauben type—one of the kind he so greatly coveted87 as a “souvenir.”
“That settles it,” said Pug firmly. “I’m goin’ to lay for that bloke till I gets ’im, an’ then when we advance I’ll ’ave ’is ’elmet.”
He lay for several minutes, watching the spot where the German was concealed88 as a cat watches a mouse-hole, and when his patience was rewarded by a glimpse of gray uniform he took steady aim,217 carefully squeezed the trigger until he felt the faint check of its second pull-off, held his breath, and gave the final squeeze, all in exact accordance with the school of musketry instructions. The patch of gray vanished, and Pug could not tell whether he had scored a hit, but almost immediately he saw the spike89 and rounded top of the helmet lift cautiously into sight. Again Pug took slow and deliberate aim but then hesitated, “Tchick-tchicked” softly between his teeth, aimed again and fired. The helmet vanished with a jerk. “Lookin’ over the edge of ’is ’ole, ’e was,” said Pug. “An’ at first I didn’t like to shoot for fear of spoilin’ that ’elmet. But arter all,” he conceded cheerfully, “I dunno’ that it wouldn’t maybe improve it as a fust-class sooven-eer to ’ave a neat little three-oh-three ’ole drilled in it.”
“Did you drill it?” asked his companion directly.
“Dunno,” admitted Pug, “but I’m keepin’ a careful eye on ’im, an’ I’ll soon know if ’e moves again.”
But in the process of keeping a careful eye Pug was tempted90 for an instant into keeping a less careful head under cover than the situation demanded. A bullet leaped whutt past within an218 inch of his ear and he dropped flat to earth with an oath. “That was ’im,” he said, “I saw the flash of ’is rifle. Looks like ’e’s got me piped off, an’ it’s goin’ to be ’im or me for it.”
Chick and another man in the same hole had been busy shooting at any mark that presented, but when their every appearance above ground began to be greeted by an unpleasantly close bullet, they ceased to fire and squatted91 back in the hole to watch Pug and the conducting of his duel92. A dozen times he and the German fired, each drawing or returning instant shot for shot, Pug moving from one spot to another in the shell crater, pushing his rifle out slowly, lifting his head cautiously an inch at a time.
Over their heads the great shells shrieked93 and rushed, round them crackled a spattering rifle fire, the occasional hammering of a machine gun, the rolling crash and whirr of bursting shells and flying splinters. Wide out to right and left of them, far to their front and rear the roar of battle ran, long-thundering and unbroken, in a deafening94 chorus of bellowing61 guns, the vibrating rattle95 of rifles and machine guns, the sharp detonations96 and reports of shells and bombs and grenades. But Pug and, in lesser97 degree, his companions,219 were quite heedless of all these things, of how the battle moved or stayed still. For them the struggle had boiled down into the solitary98 duel between Pug and his German; the larger issues were for the moment completely overshadowed, as in war they so often are, by the mere23 individual and personal ones. Pug insisted in finishing off his duel single-handed, declining to have the others there interfere99 in it. “It’s ’im or me for it,” he repeated, “fair dinkum. An’ I’m goin’ to get ’im and ’is ’elmet on my blinkin’ own.”
He decided at last to move his position, to crawl along and try to catch his opponent in flank, to stalk his enemy as a hunter stalks a hidden buck100. Since he could not escape from the crater they were in without exposing himself to that watchful101 rifle, he scraped down with his entrenching102 tool a couple of feet of the rim103 of the crater where it formed a wall dividing off another crater. When he had cleared the passage he came back and fired another shot, just to keep his enemy watching in the same spot for him, and hurriedly crawled over into the next crater, squirmed and wriggled104 away from it along cracks and holes and folds of the torn and tumbled ground in a direction that he reckoned would allow him to reach the220 German sheltering in his hole and behind a broken hillock of earth. But before he reached such a position as he desired he found himself looking over into a deep crater occupied by an officer and half a dozen men with a machine gun.
The officer looked up and caught sight of him. “Hullo, Sneath,” he said. “Where are you off to? You’re moving the wrong way, aren’t you? The order was to retire, and you’re moving forward.”
Pug wriggled over into the crater and crouched105 puffing106 and blowing for a moment. “I ’adn’t ’eard nothin’ about retiring, sir,” he said doubtfully.
“That’s the order,” said the officer briskly. “I don’t know what it means any more than you do, but there it is. You’d better wait now and move back with us.”
Pug was annoyed—exceedingly annoyed. This retirement107 looked like losing him his duel, and what was more, losing him his coveted helmet. Retirement was a thing he had not for an instant calculated upon. He had taken it quite for granted that if he could slay108 the wearer of the helmet, the helmet was his, that he had only to wait until the line advanced to go straight to it221 and pick it up. With a vague idea that he would have managed the affair much better on his own, without these interfering109 directions of his movements, he began to wish he had never come across this officer, and from that passed to wondering whether he couldn’t give the officer the slip and finish off his program in his own way.
At that moment the British artillery fire redoubled in intensity110 and the rush of shells overhead rose to a roaring gale111.
“Sharp there,” said the officer. “Get that gun picked up. Now’s our chance to get back while the guns are socking it into ’em.”
He was right, of course, and their chances of retirement were likely to be improved by the heavier covering fire. Pug was also right in a half-formed idea that had come to him—that the covering fire would also lessen112 the risk of a move forward, or as he put it to himself—“With all them shells about their ears they’ll be too busy keepin’ their heads down to do much shootin’ at me if I chance a quick rush; an’ most likely I’d be on top o’ that bloke wi’ the ’elmet afore ’e knew it.”
The others were picking up the machine gun and preparing to move, and Pug took a long and careful look over the edge of the hole to locate his222 helmet wearer. With a quick exclamation he snatched the rifle to his shoulder, aimed, and fired.
“That’ll do,” said the officer sharply turning at the sound of the shot. “Cease firing and get along back.” But Pug was gazing hard in the direction of his shot. “I’ve got ’im,” he said triumphantly113, “I’ll swear I got ’im that time. Showin’ a fair mark ’e was, an’ I saw ’im jerk ’an roll when I fired.”
“Never mind that,” said the officer impatiently. “There’s their rifle fire beginning again. Time we were out of this. Keep down as well as you can all of you. Move yourselves now.”
The men began to scramble14 out of the hole, and in an instant Pug’s mind was made up. They were retiring; so far as he knew the battalion might be retiring out of the line, out of the battle, and out of the reach of chances of German helmets. And meantime there was his helmet lying there waiting to be picked up, lying within a hundred yards of him.
He climbed up the rear wall of the crater, halted and spoke114 hurriedly to the officer. “I won’t be ’alf a mo’, sir,” he said. “Something there I want to pick up an’ bring in,” and without223 waiting for any reply turned and bolted across the open towards his helmet. The officer was consumed with a quick gust77 of anger at such disobedience. “Here,” he shouted and scrambled out of the pit. “Hi, come back you”; and as Pug gave no sign of having heard him, he shouted again and ran a few paces after him.
And so it was that about a dozen Anzacs rising sullenly115 and grumblingly116 out of a big shell crater in reluctant obedience to the order to retire, saw a khaki figure rise into sight and go charging straight forward towards the enemy, and a second later the figure of an officer bound into sight and follow him.
Two or three of the Anzacs voiced together the thought that rose to all their minds.
“Who said retire.... What blundering fool twisted the order ... retire, Gostrewth, they’re advancing ... us retire, an’ them goin’ forward ...”
To them the position required little thinking over. They could see some men advancing, and distinctly see an officer too at that. And how many more the smoke hid——
In an instant they were swarming117 up and out of their crater; there was a wild yell, a shrill “Cooee,”224 a confused shouting, “Come on, boys ... at ’em, Anzacs ... Advance, Australia,” and the dozen went plunging118 off forward. Out to right and left of them the yell ran like fire through dry grass, the coo-ees rose long and shrill; as if by magic the dead ground sprouted119 gleaming bayonets and scrambling khaki figures. Every man who looked saw a ragged120 and swiftly growing line surging forward, and every man, asking nothing more, taking only this plain evidence of advance, made haste—exactly as Kentucky’s companions made haste—to fling into it. Straight at the flashing rifles and the drifting fog-bank of shell smoke that marked the German position the shifting wave swept and surged, the men yelling, shouting and cheering. Bullets beating down upon them, shells crumpling121 and smashing amongst them cut them down by dozens, but neither halted nor slowed down the charging line. It poured on, flooded in over the wrecked trenches and dug-outs, the confused litter of shell holes big and little, piled earth heaps, occasional fragments of brickwork and splintered beams that alone remained of the village. The flank attacks that had been launched a few minutes before and held up staggering under the ferocious46 fire that met them,225 found the weight of their opposition suddenly grow less, took fresh breath and thrust fiercely in again, gained a footing, felt the resistance weaken and bend and break, and in a moment were through and into the tumbled wreckage122 of a defense123, shooting and stabbing and bayoneting, bombing the dug-outs, rounding up the prisoners, pushing on until they came in touch with the swirling124 edges of the frontal attack’s wave, and joining them turned and overran the last struggling remnants of the defense. The village was taken; the line pushed out beyond it, took firm grip of a fresh patch of ground, spread swiftly and linked up with the attack that raged on out to either side and bit savagely125 into the crumbling126 German line.
These wider issues were of course quite beyond the knowledge or understanding of Pug. He had come uninjured to the spot where his German lay, found he was an officer and quite dead, snatched up the helmet that lay beside him, and turned to hurry back. Only then was he aware of the line charging and barging down upon him, and understanding nothing of why or how it had come there, noticing only from a glimpse of some faces he knew that men of his own battalion were in it, he slipped his arm through the chinstrap of his captured226 helmet, turned again and ran forward with the rest. With them he played his part in the final overrunning of the village—the usual confused, scuffling jumble127 of a part played by the average infantry private in an attack, a nightmarish mixture of noise and yelling, of banging rifles, shattering bomb reports, a great deal of smoke, the whistle of passing bullets, the crackling snap and smack128 of their striking ground and stone, swift appearance and disappearance129 of running figures. He had a momentary130 vision of men grouped about a black dug-out mouth hurling131 grenades down it; joined a wild rush with several others on a group of gray-coated Germans who stood firm even to a bayonet finish. Scrambling and scuffling down and up the steep sides of the smaller shell craters, round the slippery crumbling edges of the larger, he caught glimpses—this towards the end—of scattered groups or trickling132 lines of white-faced prisoners with long gray coats flapping about their ankles, and hands held high over their heads, being shepherded out towards the British lines by one or two guards. All these scattered impressions were linked up by many panting, breathless scrambles133 over a chaos134 of torn and broken ground pocked and pitted with the shell craters set as227 close as the cells of a broken honeycomb, and ended with a narrow escape, averted135 just in time by one of his officers, from firing upon a group of men—part of the flank attack as it proved—who appeared mysteriously out of the smoke where Germans had been firing and throwing stick-grenades a moment before.
Through all the turmoil136 Pug clung tightly to his helmet. He knew that there had been a stiff fight and that they had won, was vaguely137 pleased at the comforting fact, and much more distinctly pleased and satisfied with the possession of his souvenir. He took the first opportunity when the line paused and proceeded to sort itself out beyond the village, to strip the cloth off his prize and examine it. It was an officer’s pickelhaube, resplendent in all its glory of glistening138 black patent-leather, gleaming brass139 eagle spread-winged across its front, fierce spike on top and heavy-linked chain “chin-strap” of shining brass. Pug was hugely pleased with his trophy140, displayed it pridefully and told briefly the tale of his duel with the late owner. He told nothing of how the securing of his prize had assisted at the taking of the village, for the good reason that he himself did228 not know it, and up to then in fact did not even know that they had taken a village.
He tied the helmet securely to his belt with a twisted bit of wire, and at the urgent command of a sweating and mud-bedaubed sergeant141 prepared to dig. “Are we stoppin’ ’ere then?” he stayed to ask.
“Suppose so,” said the sergeant, “seeing we’ve taken our objective and got this village.”
Pug gaped142 at him, and then looked round wonderingly at the tossed and tumbled shell-riddled chaos of shattered earth that was spread about them. “Got this village,” he said. “Lumme, where’s the village then?”
Another man there laughed at him. “You came over the top o’ it, Pug,” he said. “Don’t you remember the broken beam you near fell over, back there a piece? That was a bit o’ one o’ the houses in the village. An’ d’you see that little bit o’ gray wall there? That’s some more o’ the village.”
Pug looked hard at it. “An’ that’s the village, is it,” he said cheerfully. “Lor’ now, I might ’ave trod right on top o’ it by accident, or even tripped over it, if it ’ad been a bit bigger village. You can keep it; I’d rather ’ave my ’elmet.”
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decided
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| adj.决定了的，坚决的；明显的，明确的 | |
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dodging
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| n.避开，闪过，音调改变v.闪躲( dodge的现在分词 )；回避 | |
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prone
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| adj.(to)易于…的，很可能…的；俯卧的 | |
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crouching
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的现在分词 ) | |
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mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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battalion
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| n.营；部队；大队(的人) | |
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crater
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| n.火山口，弹坑 | |
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obedience
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| n.服从，顺从 | |
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9
retired
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| adj.隐退的，退休的，退役的 | |
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10
hitch
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| v.免费搭(车旅行)；系住；急提；n.故障；急拉 | |
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11
fully
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| adv.完全地，全部地，彻底地；充分地 | |
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12
simultaneously
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| adv.同时发生地，同时进行地 | |
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13
shrill
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| adj.尖声的；刺耳的；v尖叫 | |
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14
scramble
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| v.爬行，攀爬，杂乱蔓延，碎片，片段，废料 | |
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15
scrambled
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的过去式和过去分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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16
furrows
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| n.犁沟( furrow的名词复数 )；（脸上的）皱纹v.犁田，开沟( furrow的第三人称单数 ) | |
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17
scrambling
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| v.快速爬行( scramble的现在分词 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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18
hitched
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| （免费）搭乘他人之车( hitch的过去式和过去分词 )； 搭便车； 攀上； 跃上 | |
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19
shriek
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| v./n.尖叫，叫喊 | |
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20
killingly
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| 吸引人地 | |
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21
trench
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| n./v.(挖)沟，(挖)战壕 | |
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22
hip
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| n.臀部，髋；屋脊 | |
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23
mere
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| adj.纯粹的；仅仅，只不过 | |
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24
standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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25
pointed
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| adj.尖的，直截了当的 | |
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26
gathering
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| n.集会，聚会，聚集 | |
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27
trudged
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| vt.& vi.跋涉，吃力地走（trudge的过去式与过去分词形式） | |
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28
desperately
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| adv.极度渴望地，绝望地，孤注一掷地 | |
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29
joyfully
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| adv. 喜悦地, 高兴地 | |
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30
cove
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| n.小海湾，小峡谷 | |
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31
feat
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| n.功绩；武艺，技艺；adj.灵巧的，漂亮的，合适的 | |
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32
briefly
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| adv.简单地，简短地 | |
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33
enumerating
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| v.列举，枚举，数( enumerate的现在分词 ) | |
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34
picturesque
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| adj.美丽如画的，（语言）生动的，绘声绘色的 | |
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35
battalions
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| n.（陆军的）一营（大约有一千兵士）( battalion的名词复数 )；协同作战的部队；军队；（组织在一起工作的）队伍 | |
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36
dispositions
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| 安排( disposition的名词复数 )； 倾向； （财产、金钱的）处置； 气质 | |
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37
defenders
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| n.防御者( defender的名词复数 )；守卫者；保护者；辩护者 | |
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38
apparently
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| adv.显然地；表面上，似乎 | |
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39
artillery
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| n.(军)火炮，大炮；炮兵(部队) | |
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40
craters
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| n.火山口( crater的名词复数 )；弹坑等 | |
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41
determined
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| adj.坚定的；有决心的 | |
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42
scattered
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| adj.分散的，稀疏的；散步的；疏疏落落的 | |
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43
trenches
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| 深沟，地沟( trench的名词复数 )； 战壕 | |
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44
wrecked
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| adj.失事的，遇难的 | |
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45
ferociously
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| 野蛮地，残忍地 | |
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46
ferocious
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| adj.凶猛的，残暴的，极度的，十分强烈的 | |
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47
opposition
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| n.反对，敌对 | |
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48
wriggle
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| v./n.蠕动，扭动；蜿蜒 | |
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49
infantry
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| n.[总称]步兵(部队) | |
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50
industriously
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51
helping
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| n.食物的一份&adj.帮助人的，辅助的 | |
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52
haze
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| n.霾，烟雾；懵懂，迷糊；vi.(over)变模糊 | |
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53
uproar
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| n.骚动，喧嚣，鼎沸 | |
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54
scanty
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| adj.缺乏的，仅有的，节省的，狭小的，不够的 | |
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55
grumbled
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| 抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
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56
bawled
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| v.大叫，大喊( bawl的过去式和过去分词 )；放声大哭；大声叫出；叫卖（货物） | |
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57
annoyance
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| n.恼怒，生气，烦恼 | |
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58
instinctively
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| adv.本能地 | |
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59
hiss
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| v.发出嘶嘶声；发嘘声表示不满 | |
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60
risky
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| adj.有风险的，冒险的 | |
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61
bellowing
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| v.发出吼叫声，咆哮（尤指因痛苦）( bellow的现在分词 )；（愤怒地）说出（某事），大叫 | |
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62
maelstrom
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| n.大乱动；大漩涡 | |
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63
appalling
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| adj.骇人听闻的，令人震惊的，可怕的 | |
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64
indifference
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| n.不感兴趣，不关心，冷淡，不在乎 | |
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65
undertaking
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| n.保证，许诺，事业 | |
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66
promptly
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| adv.及时地，敏捷地 | |
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67
looming
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| n.上现蜃景（光通过低层大气发生异常折射形成的一种海市蜃楼）v.隐约出现，阴森地逼近( loom的现在分词 )；隐约出现，阴森地逼近 | |
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68
hazily
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| ad. vaguely, not clear | |
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69
labored
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| adj.吃力的，谨慎的v.努力争取(for)( labor的过去式和过去分词 )；苦干；详细分析；（指引擎）缓慢而困难地运转 | |
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70
hoisted
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| 把…吊起，升起( hoist的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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71
reek
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| v.发出臭气；n.恶臭 | |
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72
muzzle
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| n.鼻口部；口套；枪(炮)口；vt.使缄默 | |
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73
sprawled
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| v.伸开四肢坐[躺]( sprawl的过去式和过去分词)；蔓延；杂乱无序地拓展；四肢伸展坐着（或躺着） | |
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74
braced
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| adj.拉牢的v.支住( brace的过去式和过去分词 )；撑牢；使自己站稳；振作起来 | |
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75
flop
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| n.失败(者)，扑通一声；vi.笨重地行动，沉重地落下 | |
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76
exclamation
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| n.感叹号，惊呼，惊叹词 | |
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77
gust
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| n.阵风，突然一阵（雨、烟等），（感情的）迸发 | |
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78
beckon
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| v.(以点头或打手势)向...示意，召唤 | |
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79
beckoning
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| adj.引诱人的，令人心动的v.（用头或手的动作）示意，召唤( beckon的现在分词 ) | |
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80
exasperated
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| adj.恼怒的 | |
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81
bogged
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| adj.陷于泥沼的v.（使）陷入泥沼， （使）陷入困境( bog的过去式和过去分词 )；妨碍，阻碍 | |
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82
pokes
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| v.伸出( poke的第三人称单数 )；戳出；拨弄；与（某人）性交 | |
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83
spurt
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| v.喷出；突然进发；突然兴隆 | |
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84
flick
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| n.快速的轻打，轻打声，弹开；v.轻弹，轻轻拂去，忽然摇动 | |
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85
drawn
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| v.拖，拉，拔出；adj.憔悴的，紧张的 | |
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86
impudence
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| n.厚颜无耻；冒失；无礼 | |
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87
coveted
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| adj.令人垂涎的；垂涎的，梦寐以求的v.贪求，觊觎(covet的过去分词)；垂涎；贪图 | |
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88
concealed
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| a.隐藏的，隐蔽的 | |
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89
spike
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| n.长钉，钉鞋；v.以大钉钉牢，使...失效 | |
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90
tempted
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| v.怂恿（某人）干不正当的事；冒…的险（tempt的过去分词） | |
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91
squatted
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| v.像动物一样蹲下( squat的过去式和过去分词 )；非法擅自占用（土地或房屋）；为获得其所有权；而占用某片公共用地。 | |
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92
duel
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| n./v.决斗；(双方的)斗争 | |
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93
shrieked
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| v.尖叫( shriek的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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94
deafening
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| adj. 振耳欲聋的, 极喧闹的 动词deafen的现在分词形式 | |
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95
rattle
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| v.飞奔，碰响；激怒；n.碰撞声；拨浪鼓 | |
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96
detonations
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| n.爆炸 （声）( detonation的名词复数 ) | |
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97
lesser
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| adj.次要的，较小的；adv.较小地，较少地 | |
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98
solitary
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| adj.孤独的，独立的，荒凉的；n.隐士 | |
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99
interfere
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| v.(in)干涉，干预；(with)妨碍，打扰 | |
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100
buck
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| n.雄鹿，雄兔；v.马离地跳跃 | |
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101
watchful
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| adj.注意的，警惕的 | |
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102
entrenching
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| v.用壕沟围绕或保护…( entrench的现在分词 )；牢固地确立… | |
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103
rim
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| n.(圆物的)边，轮缘；边界 | |
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104
wriggled
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| v.扭动，蠕动，蜿蜒行进( wriggle的过去式和过去分词 )；（使身体某一部位）扭动；耍滑不做，逃避（应做的事等） | |
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105
crouched
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| v.屈膝，蹲伏( crouch的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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106
puffing
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| v.使喷出( puff的现在分词 )；喷着汽（或烟）移动；吹嘘；吹捧 | |
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107
retirement
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| n.退休，退职 | |
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108
slay
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| v.杀死，宰杀，杀戮 | |
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109
interfering
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| adj. 妨碍的 动词interfere的现在分词 | |
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110
intensity
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| n.强烈，剧烈；强度；烈度 | |
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111
gale
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| n.大风，强风，一阵闹声（尤指笑声等） | |
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112
lessen
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| vt.减少，减轻；缩小 | |
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113
triumphantly
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| ad.得意洋洋地；得胜地；成功地 | |
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114
spoke
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| n.（车轮的）辐条；轮辐；破坏某人的计划；阻挠某人的行动 v.讲，谈（speak的过去式）；说；演说；从某种观点来说 | |
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115
sullenly
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| 不高兴地，绷着脸，忧郁地 | |
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116
grumblingly
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| 喃喃报怨着，发牢骚着 | |
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117
swarming
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| 密集( swarm的现在分词 )； 云集； 成群地移动； 蜜蜂或其他飞行昆虫成群地飞来飞去 | |
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118
plunging
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| adj.跳进的，突进的v.颠簸( plunge的现在分词 )；暴跌；骤降；突降 | |
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119
sprouted
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| v.发芽( sprout的过去式和过去分词 )；抽芽；出现；（使）涌现出 | |
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120
ragged
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| adj.衣衫褴褛的，粗糙的，刺耳的 | |
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121
crumpling
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| 压皱，弄皱( crumple的现在分词 )； 变皱 | |
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122
wreckage
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| n.（失事飞机等的）残骸，破坏，毁坏 | |
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123
defense
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| n.防御，保卫；[pl.]防务工事；辩护，答辩 | |
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124
swirling
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| v.旋转，打旋( swirl的现在分词 ) | |
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125
savagely
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| adv. 野蛮地，残酷地 | |
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126
crumbling
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| adj.摇摇欲坠的 | |
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127
jumble
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| vt.使混乱，混杂；n.混乱；杂乱的一堆 | |
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128
smack
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| vt.拍，打，掴；咂嘴；vi.含有…意味；n.拍 | |
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129
disappearance
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| n.消失，消散，失踪 | |
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130
momentary
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| adj.片刻的，瞬息的；短暂的 | |
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131
hurling
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| n.爱尔兰式曲棍球v.猛投，用力掷( hurl的现在分词 )；大声叫骂 | |
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132
trickling
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| n.油画底色含油太多而成泡沫状突起v.滴( trickle的现在分词 )；淌；使)慢慢走；缓慢移动 | |
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133
scrambles
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| n.抢夺( scramble的名词复数 )v.快速爬行( scramble的第三人称单数 )；攀登；争夺；（军事飞机）紧急起飞 | |
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134
chaos
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| n.混乱，无秩序 | |
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135
averted
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| 防止，避免( avert的过去式和过去分词 )； 转移 | |
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136
turmoil
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| n.骚乱，混乱，动乱 | |
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137
vaguely
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| adv.含糊地，暖昧地 | |
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138
glistening
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| adj.闪耀的，反光的v.湿物闪耀，闪亮( glisten的现在分词 ) | |
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139
brass
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| n.黄铜；黄铜器，铜管乐器 | |
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140
trophy
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| n.优胜旗，奖品，奖杯，战胜品，纪念品 | |
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141
sergeant
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| n.警官，中士 | |
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142
gaped
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| v.目瞪口呆地凝视( gape的过去式和过去分词 )；张开，张大 | |
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