"STRAFING" THE HUN

Dominion, Volume 10, Issue 2943, 1 December 1916, Page 8

"STRAFING" THE HUN

A NIGHT BOMBARDMENT

BEHIND THE GUNS

Together with tho other two subalterns who were in charge of the guns, I paddled and slithered across the soaking held towards the battery, writes an artillery officer in tho London "Evening News." Here and there we blundered on to tho' brown river of mud which in dry weather was called a path. At tho further end of the field, beneath the shelter of a couple of small trees, we stopped. "What a night for a strafe!" exclaimed the Senior Sub., taking off his steel helmet to shake the rain from it; "the infantry will got their boots dirty to-night, I'm thinking." "They'll set more than that," .commented the Orderly Officer for the Day. "Wo'd bettor see that our watches are sychronised," ho added; "somebody switch a torch on.", I produced an electric torch, and pointed the bulb to my wrist-watch. "Divisional'time, ten seventeen pip omma exactly," I announced. "Pip emma" is signaller's language for p.m.) "That's thirteen minutes before the start," reflected the Senior Sub. "Just run over the barrage times, old son." I dived my hand into my pocket and hauled out a damp piece of paper. "Phase one," I read, "ten thirty to ten thirty-five; then add on two five; phase two, ten thirty-five to ten fortyfive ; drop to first rango for last phase; finish up at eleven." ■ Translated into English, this .meant that tho raid which was to take place was .to last" ten minutes. The show would open" by an intense bombardment lasting five minutes; then the smn.s, would lengthen their range, and tho infantry would clamber over their parapet and make for the gaps in the German wire, which had been cut earlier m tho day; then after a merrv ten minutes with old Fritz, they would return across No Man's Land, whilo we at the guns would "drop to the first range ' until our Tommies were safely back at home. I flop into, the gunpit from which 1 am to keep time for my section. "All ready?" I ask tho sergeant in charge of tho gun. "All ready, sir, he replies, saluting "Battery—action I" sings out the Sonior Sub. from No. 1 pit, and in tho gloom the gunners silently loom up and take their places at tho guns, whilo I plant my back firmly against the rear wall of tho pit, my torch shining on to my watch. Ifc still wants a couple of mjnutos to Thirty seconds moro, twenty-five, twontv . . . down thcro, over tho crest, Fritz is cowering behind his parapets, taking what shelter he can from tho rain. But a few more seconds, and he will be sheltering himself from our rain—a rain of lead and iron. Fifteen seconds, ten, nine eight . . now our infantry will be making ready to rush across. Five, _ four, three—everything Is tense, silent. Two, one—FIRE! A blinding flash, apuft of smoke'that swirls round the pit; the long, black' shape of- the gun shoots back along tho steel guides and runs up_ smoothly to the firing position again. J Tho breech is flung open, the empty shell-case tinkles on to the ground, and another shell is passed into the bore ivith one deft thrust of the loader's arm. . "Set," calls the man at the rangedrum. "Ready," calls the layer, w?th his hand on the firing lever. "FIRE!" And now the ground is trembhV beneath our feet. All around us° it seems, the guns are thundering. , The air is alive rtith ■ one unending, wavering flash. I The scream of the flvin" shells is like the chorus of tho damned —there is no interval-of silenco between the explosions. . : ; . The gunpit is full of dust and choking fumes, through which the shapes of the gunners can barely bo seen. The hashes light up their sweating faces For an instant, leaving a Cimmerian blackness behind them. Every few minutes I am forced to clear the dust off the dial of my watch Fire," I call. "Set," and "Ready." again answer the. gunners. . ; . "Add one two five—pbaso two,',' I yell above the din; tho man at the rangedrum gives .it a slight turn. "Three threo two livo set," ho calls, and Ready," answers the layer. * * • « Now our infantry are "up and over," and our barrage is lifted in front of them Our rate of fire has decreased a little; once, or twice tho rattle of machine-guns is heard from the trenches m front. - Still the dim shapes round the gun oil on, still the gun is flung back on the recoil and forward again to the firing position, like some gigantic piston. _ Aow tho infantry aro returning; it is time to lower tho rang© again and place a curtain of flame and metal between them and tho Germans. At last it is over. "Cease 'firiV " I croak m a hoarse voice. The breech is opened and buckctsful of cold water are poured down tho heated boro. 1 stagger out on to tho squelching clay, my ears singing, my throat dry, covered with dust and grit. "All 0.K.?" wheezes tho Senior feub, out of the blackness. "0.K.," replies the Orderly Officer of tho Day. "0.K.," I echo hoarsely. Wo slide and stumble towards each other, and stand looking out towards tho front line. All is quiet. Not the crack of a rifle. Not the splutter of a maclimo-gnn. After the hideous din of a. few moments before, tho silence is almost terrible. "No. 2 jammed halfway through the ast phase," says the .Senidr Sub. "Wo had to cart tho rest of the ammunition over to No. 1." "Wonder how the show has "one?" ruminates the 0.0. "Judging by the Instinctively we stop and listen. Our trained ears have caught a well-known sound. "Take cover, men," calls tho Senior Sub. With a mournful whistle a German howitzer shell comes flying towards us. It passes over our heads and falls without exploding far away on our right. "A dud!" wo exclaim simultaneously. Wo await the next arrival, but nothing further happens. ' "Oh, tho dirty dogs!" calls one of the gunners, his head stuck quaintly out of his funk-hole. "What retaliation I" "All guns on their night lines," orders tho Senior Sub. "Very good, sir," answers the sergeant in charge. AVo return to tho mess to wash down tho dust and fumes with a drink and to hear from our battery commander, who has been watching tho raid from an observation post, tho result of the show. "Good shooting, boys," says the latter as wo arrive. "And then wc turn in. and sleep tho sloen pf tho dog-tired. Like tho Hnns wo have had enough for the moment! But to-morrow . , .