Energy books

It was not an ordinary bomb. It had held some
poisonous liquid from a German chemist's shop. Other bombs were
dropping round as the two hostile airmen circled overhead, untouched
still by the following shell-bursts. Then they passed toward their own
lines, and my friend in the shell-hole called to me and said, "Let's
be going."
It was time to go.
When we reached the edge of the town our guns away back started
shelling, and we knew the Germans would answer. So we sat in a field
nearby to watch the bombardment. The air moved with the rushing waves
which tracked the carry of each shell from our batteries, and over
Ypres came the high singsong of the enemies' answering voice.
As the dusk fell there was a movement out from Vlamertinghe, a
movement of transport wagons and marching men. They were going up in
the darkness through Ypres--rations and reliefs. They were the New
Army men of the West Riding.
"Carry on there," said a young officer at the head of his company.
Something in his eyes startled me.


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