Читать книгу 500 of the Best Cockney War Stories - Various - Страница 23

Table of Contents

One night in June 1916, on the Somme, we were ordered to leave our line and go over and dig an advance trench. We returned to our trench before dawn, and shortly afterwards my chum, "Pussy" Harris, said to me, "I have left my rifle in No Man's Land."

"Never mind," I said, "there are plenty more. Don't go over there: the snipers are sure to get you."

But my advice was all in vain; he insisted on going. When I asked him why he wanted that particular rifle he said, "Well, the barrel is bent, and it can shoot round corners."

He went over. …

That night I saw the regimental carpenter going along the trench with a roughly-made wooden cross inscribed "R.I.P. Pte. Harris."—W. Ford, 613 Becontree Avenue, Chadwell Heath, Essex.