Page 34 - The Spirit of Christmas 1940

Chapter 5

The to-ing and fro-ing of counter offensives continued through
to the end of August when a large push through was ordered for
the 31st. The 11th was just one of the battalions who would attack
the German line to finish that particular campaign.

Once again, William was steadying his fellow troops as he had
done before. Some were so scared of the upcoming battle they
were vomiting with worry. William made sure he would get to
as many as he could to comfort them with his humour and inner
strength as the NCO’s checked on the ammunition and kit of the
men. The sergeants were pleased to have William within the
platoon, they knew they didn’t need to worry about him, in fact
they needed him as much as any corporal. His officers had already
recommended him up the chain of command for promotion but the
constant tasking of the battalion had meant any such things were
not a priority for the time being.

The men were formed up in the trenches, ready to storm the
enemy positions. The waiting was always the worst bit. It was
the fever that attacked the mind, the reason for fear. The illness
didn’t last long as the orders came down the line to prepare to
attack. They turned and tensed themselves. The pause seemed
like an eternity, hearts were pounding, hands were trembling. The
whistles blew, William scrambled to the top and began to run
forward. The few hundred yards between the lines erupted with
the dirt being thrown up from machine gun fire and shells. He
could see men falling on both sides but he couldn’t stop. He had
to keep going, if he stopped then what would the young ones think,
the ones he had tried to give courage to? He could see the other
side, he could see the German troops. He let out a war cry as he
charged forward then... nothing. The memories were gone.

William opened his eyes, he was back on the station. He knew
what had happened, he didn’t want to believe it. No, he couldn’t
believe it. But it must be. He was dead. He had been killed
at Delville Wood. But this wasn’t right, he had been raised a
Christian but nothing he was taught was happening. This isn’t
what it was meant to be like. If he was dead, why couldn’t he
remember it happening? How was it possible to talk to Rose?

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