Energy books

Here and there, as in
the ground to the north of Hooge, they were in a worse state, with
such rivers in their trenches that they went to enormous trouble to
drain the Bellewarde Lake which used to slop over in the rainy season.
Those field-gray men had to wade through a Slough of Despond to get to
their line, and at night by Hooge where the lines were close together-
-only a few yards apart--our men could hear their boots squelching in
the mud with sucking, gurgling noises.
"They're drinking soup again!" said our humorists.
There, at Hooge, Germans and English talked to one another, out of
their common misery.
"How deep is it with you?" shouted a German soldier.
His voice came from behind a pile of sand-bags which divided the enemy
and ourselves in a communication trench between the main lines.
"Up to our blooming knees," said an English corporal, who was trying
to keep his bombs dry under a tarpaulin.
"So? . . . You are lucky fellows. We are up to our belts in it.


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