the chances. I mined us out the night of four that show, us five got talking. We

was in the know. Over the top tomorrow boys, we're for it. First wave we are,

first ruddy wave, that's tour it. Ah well, says Jimmy, and he's seen some

scrapping. There ain't more nor five things as can happen. You get knocked

out, else wounded, bad or cushy, scuppered, or now to accept you're feeling mushy.

One of us got the knockout, blows to chops. T 'other was hurt, like losing both his

props. And one, to use the word of Hippocrates, had the misfortune to be

took by Fritz. Now me, I wasn't scratched, praise God Almighty. Though next time

please I'll thank him for a blighty. Poor young Jim, he's living and he's not. He

reckoned he'd five chances and he's had. He's wounded, killed, and prisoner, all

the lot. The ruddy lot all rolled into one. Jim's mad.