The German uhlans, cavalrymen who seemed to have misplaced their horses, had cut their packs from them, and all their webbing, including their belts and chucked them into a pile. Captain Brampton had retained his leather straps and belt as behoved an officer, and as such to be respected, or was it feared? The Germans had ripped watches from the enlisted men’s wrists, but Auberon still had his. The rain drizzled down as it had when they were captured a few hours ago; kicked to consciousness around the edge of the shell hole, up to their bloody eyes in mud and guts, with the noise of the flies, gorging on the bodies, overhanging everything. Jack had thought for a moment he was in amongst a meadow of bees. Hadn’t Evie talked of bees in a letter? Something about honey sponge? Another kick had brought him back to the noise, and stink. A guard menaced them with his rifle as they kicked up mud, the noise of battle still all around, the artillery pounding, the machine guns chattering, ‘Schnell,’ he bawled, hate in his eyes.
What do You think about Easterleigh Hall At War (2015)?
