There were about twenty of us altogether, and we climbed out of the
trench without speaking. There was nothing to be said. It was all up
with us.



CHAPTER II

THROUGH BELGIUM


It is strange how people act in a crisis. I mean, it is strange how
quiet they are, and composed. We stood there on the top of the
trench, without speaking, although I knew what had happened to us was
bitterer far than to be shot. But there was not a word spoken. I
remember noticing Fred McKelvey, when the German who stood in front
of him told him to take off his equipment. Fred's manner was halting,
and reluctant, and he said, as he laid down his rifle and unbuckled
his cartridge bag, "This is the thing my father told me never to let
happen."

Just then the German who stood by me said something to me, and
pointed to my equipment, but I couldn't unfasten a buckle with my
useless arm, so I asked him if he couldn't see I was wounded. He
seemed to understand what I meant, and unbuckled my straps and took
everything off me, very gently, too, and whipped out my bandage and
was putting it on my shoulder with considerable skill, I thought, and
certainly with a gentle hand--when the order came from their officer
to move us on, for the shells were falling all around us.