"From somewhere the enemy artillery awoke and the shells came over- you could count them as they came. And then you couldn't count them; they fell in no regular order, one-two-three, but with a conscious knowledge of where we were- to left, to right, ahead, behind, crashing like enormous garbage cans heaved by gigantic men. The broken earth fell on us, the cracked rock spattered against the unbroken stone of the hillsides. The growing night was loud in our ears, and the men, ordered up the right slope of the ravine, were huddled in a long line against the hillside, crouching, sitting, lying flat. My rifle was smashed to pieces in my hand."