as the trench was narrow and there were wounded and dead men in it,
our progress was slow.

Soon I saw Robinson, Smith, and Ward climbing out of the trench and
cutting across the field. This was, of course, dangerous, for we were
in full view of the enemy, but it was becoming more and more evident
that we were in a tight corner. So I climbed out, too, and ran across
the open as fast as I could go with my equipment. I got just past the
hedge when I was hit through the pocket of my coat. I thought I was
wounded, for the blow was severe, but found out afterwards the bullet
had just passed through my coat pocket.

I kept on going, but in a few seconds I got a bullet right through
my shoulder. It entered below my arm at the back, and came out just
below the shoulder-bone, making a clean hole right through.

I fell into a shallow shell-hole, which was just the size to take me
in, and as I lay there, the possibility of capture first came to me.
Up to that time I had never thought of it as a possible contingency;
but now, as I lay wounded, the grave likelihood came home to me.

I scrambled to my feet, resolved to take any chances rather than be
captured. I have an indistinct recollection of what happened for the
next few minutes. I know I ran from shell-hole to shell-hole,
obsessed with the one great fear--of being captured--and at last
reached the reserve trench, in front. I fell over the parapet, among
and indeed right on top of the men who were there, for the trench was
packed full of soldiers, and then quickly gathered myself together
and climbed out of the trench and crawled along on my stomach to the
left, following the trench to avoid the bullets, which I knew were