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Full text of "TheCompleteMemoirsOfGeorgeSherston"

when I touched him; he seemed to have been hit in
several places. His companion whispered huskily:
"Get a rope.35 As I clambered heavily up the bank I
noticed that it had stopped raining. Robson was
peering out of the trench; he sent someone for a rope,
urging him to be quick for already there was a faint
beginning of daylight. With the rope, and a man to
help, I got back to O'Brien, and we lifted him up the
side of the crater.

It was heavy work, for he was tall and powerfully
built, and the soft earth gave way under our feet as
we lugged and hoisted the limp shattered body. The
Germans must have seen us in the half light, but they
had stopped firing; perhaps they felt sorry for us.

At last we lowered him over the parapet. A
stretcher-bearer bent over him and then straightened
himself, taking off his helmet with a gesture that
vaguely surprised me by its reverent simplicity.
O'Brien had been one of the best men in our Com-
pany. I looked down at him and then turned away;
the face was grotesquely terrible, smeared with last
night's burnt cork, the forehead matted with a tangle
of dark hair.

I had now accounted for everyone. Two killed and
ten wounded was the only result of the raid. In the
other Company sector the Germans had blown in one
of our mine-galleries, and about thirty of the tunnel-
ling company had been gassed or buried. Robson
had been called there with the stretcher-bearers just
as the raid began.

Nothing now remained for me to do except to see
Kinjack on my way back. Entering his dug-out I
looked at him with less diffidence than Fd ever done
before. He was sitting on his plank bed, wearing a
brown woollen cap with a tuft on the top. His blond

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