Hira Singh : when India came to fight in Flanders by Talbot Mundy
page 47 of 305 (15%)
page 47 of 305 (15%)
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grew--Indian and British infantry. Guns by the fifty were brought
forward under cover of the night and placed in line behind us. Ranjoor Singh continued talking with the enemy, lying belly downward in the mud, and they kept throwing printed stuff to us that we turned in to our officers. But the Germans did not attack. And the force behind us grew. Then one evening, just after dusk, we were all amazed by the news that the assault was to come from our side. And almost before that news had reached us the guns at our rear began their overture, making preparation beyond the compass of a man's mind to grasp or convey. They hurled such a torrent of shells that the Germans could neither move away the troops in front of us nor bring up others to their aid. It did not seem possible that one German could be left alive, and I even felt jealous because, thought I, no work would be left for us to do! Yet men did live--as we discovered. For a night and a day our ordnance kept up that preparation, and then word went around. Who shall tell of a night attack, from a trench against trenches? Suddenly the guns ceased pounding the earth in front of us and lifted to make a screen of fire almost a mile beyond. There was instant pitch darkness on every hand, and out of that a hundred trumpets sounded. Instantly, each squadron leader leaped the earthwork, shouting to his men. Ranjoor Singh leaped up in front of us, and we followed him, all forgetting their distrust of him in the fierce excitement--remembering only how he had led us in the charge on that first night. The air was thick with din, and fumes, and flying metal--for the Germans were not forgetting to use artillery. I ceased to think of anything but going forward. Who shall describe |
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