Our Pals battalion of Liverpool Volunteers is a hive of activity today as we prepare for the attack. For more than two days, our artillery has been pounding the Hun line. We’ll be surprised if there’s anyone left over there by the time we’re ordered to go over the top.
Once past Doug, we each approach the assault trench in our own way. Some are silent, others boisterous. I am not in the mood for conversation. Instead, my mind focuses on my goal.
Survive this attack and make it back.
Read MoreMy shaking hand is grasped around a shell casing, holding it tightly as I slowly lift the shaped metal cone to my worktable. I can’t help but admire the smooth boring lines of the casing, the soft filed-down edges, and the engineering that went into making this 20-millimeter killing container.
Read MoreInstantly, the cannon’s begin their fiery gurgitations. Firing pins strike upon explosive charges, propelling shells at astonishing speeds through the long barrel of the gun, and out the front of the plane with a muz-zle flash that would blind anyone staring directly at it.
13, 12, 11, 10, 9, 8, my turn is coming soon!
My belt moves swiftly through the drum, ever closer to the cannon’s chamber!
7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1, MEEEE!!!!!!!!!
Read More