coming up from the second trenches. They were out of the
communication trenches and were coming across lots. There must have
been fifty of them, outnumbering us five or six to one.

We were out of bombs, Jerry had lost his rifle, and mine had no
"ammo." Blofeld fired the last shot from his revolver and, believe
me, we hooked it for home.

We had been in their trenches just three and a half minutes.

Just as we were going through their wire a bomb exploded near and
got Jerry in the head. We dragged him in and also the two men that
had been clicked on the first fire. Jerry got Blighty on his wound,
but was back in two months. The second time he wasn't so lucky. He
lies now somewhere in France with a wooden cross over his head.

Did that muddy old trench look good when we tumbled in? Oh, Boy!
The staff was tickled to pieces and complimented us all. We were
sent out of the lines that night and in billets got hot food,
high-grade "fags", a real bath, a good stiff rum ration, and
letters from home.

Next morning we heard the results of the raid. One party of twelve
never returned. Besides that we lost seven men killed. The German
loss was estimated at about one hundred casualties, six machine
guns and several dug-outs destroyed, and one mine shaft put out of
business. We also brought back documents of value found by one
party in an officer's dug-out.

Blofeld got the military cross for the night's work, and several of