"I hear you've had some excitement? It put my wind up a bit when I heard
about it. Still, I'm glad in a way--the monotony of our lives was
becoming unbearable. I'd rather have shell-bursts than blasts of the
S.M.'s whistle. Have many been dropping in the town recently?"

"A good few--I daresay you'll have some to-night if you're lucky. Yes,
the S.M.'s whistle got on my nerves too. I was longing for a change and
frightfully keen on seeing a bit of the war. I confess I wasn't
particularly scared by the shells we had--of course, none of them came
very near. But I don't want to have any more, not after seeing those
wounded carried along on stretchers to-day. You're right in the town
here and it's quite likely that you'll make a closer acquaintance with
high-explosive shells than I've been able to make...."

I had hardly spoken when there was a faint muffled boom in the distance
and a long, deepening howl, and then a loud explosion that shook the
building.

A few minutes after a second shell passed overhead and exploded
somewhere in the town.

Then, without the usual warning, there was a roar that seemed to split
our heads and an impact that sent us reeling backwards against the wall.
The room was filled with dense, pungent smoke and dust that choked and
blinded us. Above the violent droning in our ears we could hear the
clatter of falling bits of plaster and masonry. A whistle blew and there
was a shout of "Clear Billet." We thronged the doorway and poured down
the stairs, panic stricken, but before we had left the building there
was another reverberating crash and once again we were enveloped by
smoke and dust while the bits of plaster showered down upon us from the