The guns were hardly started when there was a sound like escaping
steam. Jerry leaned over and shouted in my ear: "There goes the
gas. May it finish the blighters."

Blofeld came dashing up just then, very much excited because he
found we had not put on our masks, through some slip-up in the
orders. We got into them quick. But as it turned out there was no
need. There was a fifteen-mile wind blowing, which carried the gas
away from us very rapidly. In fact it blew it across the Boche
trenches so fast that it didn't bother them either.

The barrage fire kept up right up to zero, as per schedule. At
thirty seconds of eleven I looked at my watch and the din was at
its height. At exactly eleven it stopped short. Fritz was still
sending some over, but comparatively there was silence. After the
ear-splitting racket it was almost still enough to hurt.

And in that silence over the top we went.

Lanes had been cut through our wire, and we got through them
quickly. The trenches were about one hundred twenty yards apart and
we still had nearly one hundred to go. We dropped and started to
crawl. I skinned both my knees on something, probably old wire, and
both hands. I could feel the blood running into my puttees, and my
rifle bothered me as I was afraid of jabbing Jerry, who was just
ahead of me as first bayonet man.

They say a drowning man or a man in great danger reviews his past.
I didn't. I spent those few minutes wondering when the machine-gun