Energy books

But the
test of steadiness was good enough on a dark night behind the reserve
trenches, when the reliefs had gone up, and there was a bit of digging
to do in the open.
"Quiet there, boys," said the sergeant-major. "And no larks."
It was not a larky kind of place or time. There was no moon, and a
light drizzle of rain fell. The enemy's trenches were about a thousand
yards away, and their guns were busy in the night, so that the shells
came overhead, and lads who had heard the owls hoot in English woods
now heard stranger night-birds crying through the air, with the noise
of rushing wings, ending in a thunderclap.
"And my old mother thinks I'm enjoying myself!" said the heir to a
seaside lodging-house.
"Thirsty work, this grave-digging job," said a lad who used to skate
on rollers between the bath-chairs of Brighton promenade.
"Can't see much in those shells," said a young man who once sold
ladies' blouses in an emporium of a south coast village. "How those
newspaper chaps do try to frighten us!"
He put his head on one side with a sudden jerk.


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