The Captain then directed his attention to a trench digging party, sent
his compliments to the guns--would they kindly take care of the trench
digging party, which they did. Then we were spotted; in a few seconds we
were the recipients of a blast of machine-gun fire; a _minenwerfer_
dropped at the foot of the mine shaft, blowing the entire corner away,
and it became very evident the place was ours no longer, and we started
for the bottom.
In going down it was necessary for me to execute a sort of slide, as I
had to hang on with my hands while my feet were going down, and the
Captain, in his naturally human haste to get to a place of safety,
inadvertently trod on my fingers.
"For God's sake, Captain," I yelled, "get off my fingers!"
"Take your damned fingers out of my way!" replied the Captain.
"How can I? Your foot is on them!" He eased up a bit and I was able to
release my mangled fingers, but Lord! he weighed about 200 pounds.
Now Captain Black was a man who was absolutely afraid of nothing in
human shape; his fighting spirit is unbeatable; every man in the battery
can testify to his absolute fearlessness, and I am glad to lend my
humble testament to his unquestionable bravery.
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