I immediately quit "chucking my weight about" from that time on.

Just before reaching reserve billets we were marching along, laughing,
and singing one of Tommy's trench ditties--

"I want to go home,
I want to go home,
I don't want to go to the trenches no more
Where sausages and whizz-bangs are galore.
Take me over the sea, where the Allemand can't get at me,
Oh, my, I don't want to die,
I want to go home"--

when overhead came a "swish" through the air, rapidly followed by
three others. Then about two hundred yards to our left in a large
field, four columns of black earth and smoke rose into the air, and
the ground trembled from the report,--the explosion of four German
five-nine's, or "coal-boxes." A sharp whistle blast, immediately
followed by two short ones, rang out from the head of our column. This
was to take up "artillery formation." We divided into small squads and
went into the fields on the right and left of the road, and crouched
on the ground. No other shells followed this salvo. It was our first
baptism by shell fire. From the waist up I was all enthusiasm, but
from there down, everything was missing. I thought I should die with
fright.

After awhile, we re-formed into columns of fours, and proceeded on our
way.

About five that night, we reached the ruined village of H--, and I got