Monday, July 07, 2003
"Bang! whack! crash! rat-at-at!
Two officers went past. One of them was our Colonel. He held himself straight. The other looked timidly round him.
Bang! whack! bang! rat-at-at
The attack must have failed!
Stone splinters were flying around.
I crouched lower in my hole.
What could Hänsel be doing out there?
The shells crashed and crashed, sometimes nearer, sometimes farther away.
Splinters in thick grey clouds flew over and past us.
The air smelt more and more strongly of powder.
Something hit my doubled up left knee and fell to the ground.
I made to take it up, but started back. It was red-hot.
Someone ran past shrieking. It was not Hänsel.
The reason that the splinter had done no harm* was that it hit against the folds of cloth at my knee, which gave. One would do better to lay one's sleeping rug over one in so many folds as possible.
I took Hänsel's rug and had a look at the splinter. It was of the size of a knife blade and had two jagged edges.
Then I heard a hollow sound coming, growing sharper and sharper.
That must have been a big dud.
The ground shook.
No, it was a real big shell, that had only burst after striking.
Shrieks from several places.
Something hit my blanket.
The splinter was a small one.
The smell of powder became stronger still."
* On its more passive trajectory way down.
Renn, Ludwig: War (1929), pp. 232-3
I was just checking out some WW1 sites and found this here
7/07/2003 11:29:00 PM |
Interested in what others might think? Check out the latest threads at the Blogdex link!