"S.O.S. Stand to!" by Reginald Grant. Published by Good Press. Good Press publishes a wide range of titles that encompasses every genre. From well-known classics & literary fiction and non-fiction to forgotten−or yet undiscovered gems−of world literature, we issue the books that need to be read. Each Good Press edition has been meticulously edited and formatted to boost readability for all e-readers and devices. Our goal is to produce eBooks that are user-friendly and accessible to everyone in a high-quality digital format.
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Reginald Grant. S.O.S. Stand to!
S.O.S. Stand to!
Table of Contents
CHAPTER I. CAN'T KILL ME
CHAPTER II. THE FIRST NIGHT
CHAPTER III. YPRES
CHAPTER IV. MY HORSESHOE WORKING
CHAPTER V. HUN HELPERS
CHAPTER VI. BITS OF BATTLE
CHAPTER VII. SANCTUARY WOODS
CHAPTER VIII. A BATH UNDER DIFFICULTIES
CHAPTER IX. HAMBONE DAVIS
CHAPTER X. BEES, HONEY AND HELL
CHAPTER XI. SCOTTY COMES BACK AT THE SOMME
CHAPTER XII. BEHEMOTH
CHAPTER XIII. THE FAMILY LUCK
CHAPTER XIV. THE DEAD SHELL[1]
CHAPTER XV. SATAN'S SHELLS AND SCENTED GAS
CHAPTER XVI. BEFORE VIMY
CHAPTER XVII. VIMY
CHAPTER XVIII. BACK TO GOD'S COUNTRY
Отрывок из книги
Reginald Grant
Published by Good Press, 2019
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When our watch was up I made my way to the ruin occupied by our relief, woke them and told them to keep their eyes open for the haystack and make themselves as small as midgets. Shortly after they started, Blaisdell came in. He told me that the relief party had been sniped at every step of the way to the gun. As Blaisdell entered, the open door threw out a fitful glare of light from our flickering candle, and a report from this particular haystack was followed by a bullet that knocked off a chip of brick just above the doorway. Our friend was certainly industrious, but I hoped to go him one better in the morning. I grabbed the phone and called up headquarters, informing them of what I had seen from the stock. The O.C. said the matter would be looked into immediately.
There was no sleeping that night; we were too excited and chattered away like school girls over our experiences, and to pass the time the inevitable card game started. During the game the sniping was active and continuous, the bullets chipping the building in all quarters. Our light was from a candle jammed into a jam tin and set between a couple of sand bags that we used for a table. Our mate, who had not yet taken his turn on the gun-watch, was inclined to be rather skeptical about our story of the sniper, declaring it couldn't be possible that Fritzie could be carrying on such work in the very midst of our lines, and that our imaginations had been running riot with us. We had been playing about three-quarters of an hour when a gust of wind blew the door open, throwing the faint gleam of the candle out in front. I jumped to close the door, the light blowing out as I did so, and at the same instant I heard a report from the same direction as before. I closed the door, telling Blaisdell to light the candle. He fumbled for his matches and lit it, and we were both stricken dumb for the moment; our chum was lying stone dead with a hole squarely in his forehead. The gentleman in the haystack was surely doing good work for his Kaiser.
