Starting on a dead gallop, shells commenced to chase us all the way
up the road. Keeping as well under cover of the hedge as we could, we
crossed the railroad bridge, and as we neared the entrance to Ypres
square the fire again cooled down; but on getting into the square 25
shells, exploding one after the other as quickly as so many seconds,
followed by thunderclaps of brain-splitting noise, ripped up the paving
stones, flinging them in all directions, and taking chunks out of the
eight wagons and wheels. Trotting sharply through the square, we got to
Rampart Bridge, which they were showering with shells to prevent our
engineers repairing it; it was badly smashed and we had to go a long way
around by Ypres Rampart.
Here we left the road and took a chance of getting across the open
country, picking our way in the fields among the shell holes, eventually
getting in back of the Garden, where we strung our wagons in the rear
until the order "Ammunition up!" was given, and out from the dugouts
rushed the men to unload the precious cargo.
Pages:
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132