"Get ready to charge, they are running. Come on! Come on!"

I jumped out of the sh.e.l.l-hole, and they followed me. Once again I was mad. I saw nothing, I heard nothing; I wanted to kill! kill!

Pf--ung!

Oh! My G.o.d! I was. .h.i.t in the head! I was blind!

CHAPTER XVIII

LEFT ON THE FIELD

THE MYSTERY OF DEATH. THE SECRET CODE. TWO TERRIBLE DAYS

I was wounded! I was blind! But the moments that followed are clear in my memory. The brain shocked by a blow works quickly and actively in its excited effort to hold its own.

I was quite conscious and thinking clearly: I knew what had happened and what would happen; I remembered every detail.

My head at the moment was inclined to the right, for I was shouting to the men. Like a flash I remembered that about fifty yards to the left of me there was a "German strong point" still occupied by the Germans.

A bullet had entered my left temple; it must have come from a sniper in that strong point. The bullet had pa.s.sed clean through my head; I thought it had emerged through my right temple. I was mistaken on that point, for I found some days later that it had emerged through the centre of my right eye.

I remember distinctly clutching my head and sinking to the ground, and all the time I was thinking "so this is the end--the finish of it all; shot through the head, mine is a fatal wound."

Arnold jumped up, and catching me in his arms, helped me back into the sh.e.l.l-hole.

I hesitate to tell what followed. But as I am trying to record the sensations experienced at the time of receiving a head wound, I will describe the next experience simply, and leave the reader to form his own conclusions.

I was blind then, as I am now; but the blackness which was then before me underwent a change. A voice from somewhere behind me said: "This is death; will you come?"

Then gradually the blackness became more intense. A curtain seemed to be slowly falling; there was s.p.a.ce; there was darkness, blacker than my blindness; everything was past. There was a peacefulness, a nothingness; but a happiness indescribable.

I seemed for a moment somewhere in the emptiness looking down at my body, lying in the sh.e.l.l-hole, bleeding from the temple. I was dead!

and that was my body; but I was happy.

But the voice I had heard seemed to be waiting for an answer. I seemed to exert myself by a frantic effort, like one in a dream who is trying to awaken.

I said: "No, not now; I won't die." Then the curtain slowly lifted; my body moved and I was moving it. I was alive!

There, my readers, I have told you, and I have hesitated to tell it before. More than that, I will tell you that I was not unconscious; neither did I lose consciousness until several minutes later, and then unconsciousness was quite different.

I have told you how clear was my brain the moment I was. .h.i.t, and I tell you also that after the sensation I have just related, my brain was equally clear, as I will show you, until I became unconscious.

Call it a hallucination, a trick of the brain, or what you will. I make no attempt to influence you; I merely record the incident--but my own belief I will keep to myself.

Whatever it was, I no longer feel there is any mystery about death.

Nor do I dread it.

Arnold was busy tearing open the field dressing which I carried in a pocket of my tunic.

"Use the iodine first, Arnold; it's in the pocket in a gla.s.s phial."

"The gla.s.s is broken, sir."

"In a piece of paper there are two morphia tablets--quick, better give them to me."

"They are not here, sir." And he bound the dressing round my eyes as the blood trickled down my face.

"Quick, Arnold, my right pocket--feel in it; some papers there--a secret code--take them out--tear them up--quickly; tell me have you done it?"

"Yes, sir, I have done it."

I was sinking; I felt myself going; I felt that the end was at hand. I clutched his shoulder and pulled him towards me:

"Arnold, I'm going. If you get back--tell my--wife--" But the message that was on my lips was not finished; I could speak no more. I was dropping into s.p.a.ce, dropping, dropping; everything disappeared, I remembered no more.

I do not know how long I remained in this condition. I remember gaining consciousness and finding Arnold by my side.

Something terrible was happening. I gradually began to realise that another attack was taking place over my head. This time the fire was coming from both sides. A stream of bullets seemed to be pouring over the sh.e.l.l-hole. The meaning was obvious: a machine-gun had been placed in the trench ten yards away, and its deadly fire was pouring over the sh.e.l.l-hole in which we lay. Loud explosions were taking place all round us, and with each explosion the earth seemed to upheave, and I felt the thug, thug of pieces of metal striking the earth close by; whilst showers of earth kept falling on my body. I couldn't last long.

The guns of both sides seemed to be searching for us; we must soon be blown to pieces.

How long this lasted I cannot say. I was weak; my shattered nerves could not stand such a terrible ordeal. I lay huddled and shivering at the bottom of the sh.e.l.l-hole, waiting for the jagged metal to strike my body, or be hurled, mutilated, into the air.

Again I became unconscious. When I next recovered my senses Arnold was trying to lift me, to carry me away, but his strength was not equal to it. He laid me down again.

The firing had ceased. He seemed to be peering out of the sh.e.l.l-hole and talking to me. I think he was planning escape. It must have been dark, for he seemed uncertain about the direction.

Then I began to vomit; I seemed to be vomiting my heart out, while Arnold seemed to be trying to comfort me.

I again became unconscious. When I regained consciousness for the third time it seemed to me that I had been insensible for a great length of time. But I seemed to be much refreshed, although very weak.

Everything was silent, uncanny; I could see nothing, hear nothing.

Yes, I remembered; I was shot blind, and I was still in the sh.e.l.l-hole. I felt my head; there was a rough bandage round it, covering my eyes. The bandage over my right eye was hardened with blood, and dried blood covered my left cheek. My hair was matted with clay and blood; and my clothes seemed to be covered with loose earth.

But what did this uncanny silence mean?--Arnold, where was he? I called him by name, but there was no response. I remembered the firing I had heard: yes, he must be dead.

In my blindness and despair I groped on my hands and knees around the sh.e.l.l-hole to find his body. He was not there. _I was alone!_

CHAPTER XIX

THE JAWS OF DEATH

LONELINESS, DARKNESS, AND SILENCE. A LAST EFFORT. I PREPARE FOR DEATH