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Letters to Helen - Impressions of an Artist on the Western Front by Keith Henderson
page 52 of 104 (50%)

Presently we met some infantry coming back, all safely begoggled. The
Huns, they told us, were dropping tear shells just into that valley in
front, where our working-party was supposed to be. You can tell them
(the tear shells), they said, by the fluttering sound, and they knock up
no earth and make very little smoke.

Sure enough, as soon as we got over the brow there they were. They make
a foolish wobbly, wavy sound as they come over, and look most innocent.
So they are really if you get your goggles on in time. But if one bursts
close to you, and you haven't got goggles on, why, then you'll be as
blind as an owl, and you'll weep like a shower bath.

[Sidenote: BETWEEN HIGH WOOD AND FLERS]

Then the absurd thing was that we couldn't find the working-party.
Plenty of dead Huns, but nobody alive. Not a sign. Only crumps dropping
here and there and everywhere. So we found a bit of a trench that led
back round the side of the wood. The front line trenches were only very
lightly held, partly because they are almost completely blown in. And we
could get no information as to the working-party at all.

Presently we saw why. The Huns had put up a barrage across the valley
they were coming up. We knew they would come up this other valley, as
they had to report on their way to H.Q., ---- Division. So we got into a
hole and waited.

After about half an hour the barrage lifted and up came our
working-party none the worse. It is a most amazing war. People literally
dodge shells and things as you might dodge snow-balls.
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