About every twenty minutes the sentry in the next traverse would fire
a star shell from his flare pistol. The "plop" would give me a start
of fright. I never got used to this noise during my service in the
trenches.

I would watch the arc described by the star shell, and then stare into
No Man's Land waiting for it to burst. In its lurid light the barbed
wire and stakes would be silhouetted against its light like a latticed
window. Then darkness.

Once, out in front of our wire, I heard a noise and saw dark forms
moving. My rifle was lying across the sandbagged parapet. I reached
for it, and was taking aim to fire, when my mate grasped my arm, and
whispered, "Don't fire." He challenged in a low voice. The reply
came back instantly from the dark forms:

"Shut your blinkin' mouth, you bloomin' idiot; do you want us to click
it from the Boches?"

Later we learned that the word, "No challenging or firing, wiring
party out in front," had been given to the sentry on our right, but he
had failed to pass it down the trench. An officer had overheard our
challenge and the reply, and immediately put the offending sentry
under arrest. The sentry clicked twenty-one days on the wheel, that
is, he received twenty-one days' Field Punishment No. I, or
"crucifixion," as Tommy terms it.

This consists of being spread-eagled on the wheel of a limber two
hours a day for twenty-one days, regardless of the weather. During
this period, your rations consist of bully beef, biscuits, and water.