When we reached the German front lines,--or what was left of
them, for the explosion had blown from them all semblance of a
trench,--it was jammed full of German troops--dead. On we went,
inclining to the right and reaching an orchard in which was a nest of
them concealed in the trees. Those on mother earth were speedily driven
to hell or made good their escape, and we then attended to the case of
the squirrels in the branches. This was somewhat difficult, as the night
was excessively dark, but our snipers, circling everywhere underneath
them, finally got them; not a single baby-killer escaped; it was a case
of getting limburgers in an apple tree.
No sooner had we cleaned up the job than the Fritzies returned _en
masse_ formation, compelling us to beat a discretionary retreat to their
front-line trenches, where we held and are still holding, and then some.
Here we remained until the middle of the following month.
Some minor engagements took up my duties after Givenchy, until about
September 1, when my battery was instructed to proceed to Ploegsteert.
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