It was from the southward that there came
rolling up to us the sounds of a bellowing chorus of gunfire--a
Wagnerian chorus, truly. That perhaps was as it should be. Wagner's
countrymen were helping to make it. Now the separate reports strung out
until you could count perhaps three between reports; now they came so
close together that the music they made was a constant roaring which
would endure for a minute on a stretch, or half a minute anyhow. But
for all the noticeable heed which any uniformed men in my vicinity paid
to this it might as well have been blasting in a distant stone quarry.
This attitude which they maintained, coupled with the fact that
seemingly all the firing did no damage whatsoever, only served to
strengthen the illusion that after all it was not the actual business of
warfare which spread itself beneath our eyes.
Apparently most of the shells from the Allies' side--which of course was
the far side from us--rose out of a dip in the contour of the land.
Rising so, they mainly fell among or near the shattered remnants of two
hamlets upon the nearer front of a little hill perhaps three miles from
our location.
Pages:
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335