'The sergeant comes up shouting, "Hey! Haven't y' gone yet? Got cold feet?"

"Cold feet yourself," Ted retorts.

And then seeing Bert, who has been missing for some time, Ted produces a note-book and calls, "Here you are, Bert, write your next-of-kin's name and address."

There is no farewell. They grasp their rifles, and Ted slings the phone over his shoulder. "You all set? Come on!" he calls, and away they go.

He shouts "Good luck lads!" as they climb over the parapet. God! what sights they see out there. Huddled and stretched out bodies, khaki heaps that were once men. '