It was past midnight when he eventually turned in after a final check on the sentries. He had been barely been asleep a few minutes before he was roused by a summons from Captain Redbourne.
“Another attack has been scheduled for eleven
classic gay sex ack emma.” Redbourne used the phonetic version – ack emma for a.m., pip emma for p.m.
“Why so late?”
“Delays in bringing up reserves, cavalry not in position
classic gay sex to exploit any breakthrough, the usual. Ours not to reason why, young W-B.”
"Yes, sir. Still, it does seem like handing the advantage to the Hun.”
“Indeed. However, between thee and me, old fruit, I rather think we did that today when everyone pulled up a bit too sharpish. Some of the lads got clear into open country but had to come back for lack of ammunition. Anyway, Brigade says they were held up on the left and our flank was open. So we do it all over again.”
The dawn was chill and grey; a thick mist clung to the battered landscape and left pearly droplets of moisture on men and weapons. The mist cleared slowly as the morning wore on and soon they could make out the new German defences. Artillery preparation was to be minimal. Very few of the bigger guns had any shells left after the initial bombardment. A ten-minute barrage was all that could be managed. Phillip checked his watch for the twentieth time that morning. An overwhelming lethargy had seized him. His limbs felt leaden, detached from him in some inexplicable way. The men seemed to be feeling the same. They stood as patient as oxen, blank faced. It was as though they were all resigned to their fate. There was none of the nervous edge that had been present the previous morning and no rum ration to impart any cheer or ‘Dutch Courage.’
The guns began promptly at ten minutes before eleven. Phillip’s practised ear noted the lack of ‘heavies’ – the flatter crack of the 18-pounder field guns
classic gay sex predominated. Time seemed
classic gay sex to both stretch and compress. Each minute seemed interminable yet, when the guns ceased and the whistles blew, he could
classic gay sex scarcely credit that
classic gay sex ten minutes had passed so quickly
classic gay sex. Heavy-footed, he stumbled out of the trench and began to advance.
Of course, it was a disaster. German reserves had been rushed to the fighting overnight. There were now seven times as many enemy troops as there had been twenty-four hours before. The German High Command had responded energetically. Phillip covered less than
classic gay sex a hundred yards before being slammed to the ground. His first reaction was one of total
classic gay sex wonder. He could not connect the smashing impact of the machinegun bullets across his thighs as having anything to do with himself. There was no pain. He dimly recognised that this was due to shock but still it seemed unreal. He tried to stand but his shattered legs would not obey him. He rolled slowly onto his back and gazed up at the blue, cloudless vault above him.
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