At 5:15 in the afternoon we started registering our "love letters," in
preparation for another phase of the big bombardment which had been more
or less continuously in operation since the commencement of the battle,
and after accomplishing our purpose we got a "stand down." The apples
clustering on the trees looked as tempting to us as did the apple of
our first father and before we started registering, every man in the
battery had mentally made his tree selection as the one he would climb
as soon as he got a minute to himself. It was unnecessary to climb,
however; with the advent of the explosion of our guns, the concussion
shook the trees as with a strong wind and the luscious fruit showered
upon our heads in abundance.
Then we cleaned up our guns, munching the red apples, and the enemy
planes were humming like bees over our heads, darting here and there
like bats, trying to find our place of concealment, but we were too well
hidden. When night fell, McLean and I started for the rear, passing the
hives on our way. "By, Golly, Grant, here's a chance for a mouthful; I
know how to handle this proposition," and he made for the hives.
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