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Full text of "TheCompleteMemoirsOfGeorgeSherston"

face was haggard; the last few hours had been no fan
for him either. This was a Kinjack I'd never met be-
fore., and it was the first time I had ever shared any
human equality with him. He spoke kindly to me in
his rough way, and in doing so made me very thank-
ful that I had done what I could to tidy up the mess
in no-man's-land.

Larks were shrilling in the drizzling sky as I went
down to 71. North. I felt a wild exultation. Behind
me were the horror and the darkness. Kinjack had
thanked me. It was splendid to be still alive, I
thought, as I strode down the hill, skirting shell-holes
and jumping over communication trenches, for I
wasn't in a mood to bother about going along wet
ditches. The landscape loomed around me, and the
landscape was life, stretching away and away into
freedom. Even the dreary little warren at 71. North
seemed to await me with a welcome, and Flook was
ready with some hot tea. Soon I was jabbering ex-
citedly to Durley and old man Barton, who told me
that the Doctor said Mansfield was a touch and go
case, but already rejoicing at the prospect of getting
across to Blighty, and cursing the bad wire-cutters
which had been served out for the raid. I prided my-
self on having pulled off something rather heroic; but
when all was said and done it was only the sort of
thing which people often did during a fire or a rail-
way accident.

Nothing important had happened on the British
Front that night, so we were rewarded by a mention
in the G.H.Q,. communiquL "At Mametz we raided hos-
tile trenches. Our party entered without difficulty and main-

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