It was not long before we came in contact with the fire, but luck was
with us and we escaped until we got to the ammunition dump, where we
loaded up with ammunition as fast as men ever worked; it was a joy
forever to see those boys work. We had to load up in chain fashion, as
it was impossible for the wagons to get to a dump more than four at a
time, and the loading was done by the men passing the shells from hand
to hand until each wagon was loaded. Then not a second was lost in
starting. The crossroads were reached, but the traffic was so congested
we could not pass for a while.
Shells were raining down when we finally started, one of them blowing
the body off one of our wagons, leaving the limber, but no further
damage beyond the driver, Luther, breaking his leg. A gunner took his
place and Luther was laid in the gutter until such time as he could be
picked up. We galloped past the Empire battery, got to the Belgian
Garden at last, taking cover under a clump of trees until the firing had
cooled somewhat, and then we took the chance--it was one in ten--to get
by.
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