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Our men spitted them on their bayonets or hurled hand-grenades, and
swept the ground before them. Some Germans screeched like pigs in a
slaughter-house.
The men went on in short rushes. They were across the Menin road now,
and were first to the crater, though other troops were advancing
quickly from the left. They went down into the crater, shouting
hoarsely, and hurling bombs at Germans, who were caught like rats in a
trap, and scurried up the steep sides beyond, firing before rolling
down again, until at least two hundred bodies lay dead at the bottom
of this pit of hell.
While some of the men dug themselves into the crater or held the
dugouts already made by the enemy, others climbed up to the ridge
beyond and with a final rush, almost winded and spent, reached the
extreme limit of their line of assault and achieved the task which had
been set them. They were mad now, not human in their senses. They saw
red through bloodshot eyes. They were beasts of prey--these decent
Yorkshire lads.


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