"Spurred on by the realization of their hazard, the men worked with speed and precision. Not a shot was fired, nor a shell exploded. All was still until the last stake was screwed in and the last strand of wire tied; then it happened ~ a salvo of bursting rockets a myriad of coloured flares, a tornado of gas shells, lead and iron. One hundred yards to the trenches. Time, ten seconds flat at least so Jones has often told. Be that as it may, not a man was scratched in the spirited dash to cover, which shattered all records for personal achievement. The Brigade Wirers had no rifles and only a handful of bombs, so when ordered to get the hell out of the way by an officer of the front line company, the command was smartly obeyed. The retirement was orderly until Private Saunders essayed to pray beneath the shelter of a bit of corrugated iron stretched across the top of the communication trench through which the party was moving. Those in the rear thought this quite the wrong time and place for devotions, as they were still under heavy fire, and Saunders in his kneeling position cut off their line of retreat. Under the circumstances, it is not surprising that he was kicked into a position of even more humility."
Excerpt from The Canadian Military Gazette, Vol. LVI, No. 3, March 1941. Major A. R. Thompson penned the name "Jones" to relate his personal experiences in a series that ran in the Gazette.
Excerpt from The Canadian Military Gazette, Vol. LVI, No. 3, March 1941. Major A. R. Thompson penned the name "Jones" to relate his personal experiences in a series that ran in the Gazette.
Photos: Cayuga Courtyard, lbwalker (For larger image, click on photo.)
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