Getting through the gas barrage, I came to a camouflage hedge, used to
screen and protect the traffic on the road, which sheltered me for four
or five hundred yards further, and then I emerged again into the open,
and again I was spotted. At this point a set of new dressing stations
had been established, and they were as busy as bees looking after
wounded men, and every moment of the time they were engaged in their
work the machine guns of the enemy planes were hammering the stretcher
bearers and the wounded men as industriously as though they were
attacking fighting men. It was quite evident they knew I was a dispatch
rider, and I was a target every step of the way, shells being planted
before me, behind me and on each side of me. But I knew the Major's
thought was with me every foot of the way; I knew he was counting the
seconds until I would reach the wagon lines and deliver the message--and
the only message--that would save the position; I knew he was praying
for me that very moment and I knew that every man in the battery was
doing the same thing.
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