No Man's Land by Simon Tolkien

Author:Simon Tolkien
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3, mobi
Publisher: Knopf Doubleday Publishing Group
Published: 2017-01-24T05:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty

It took a long time to go back. They would stop and start and then stop again, delayed by unknown obstacles up ahead, most of the time just shuffling forward in single file down the narrow lanes with their hands resting on the shoulder of the man in front, keeping their heads tilted back to avoid being hit by the swinging water bottles and sheathed bayonets.

They were unused to marching and their feet hurt, swelling and sweating inside their thick woollen socks, and in the dark their boots slipped on unseen objects that might have been tree roots or spent shrapnel or human bones. There was no way to know except when a star shell burst in the sky behind them, creating a weird pale green glow in the communication trench that illuminated the crumbling sandbags on either side and on one occasion a painted sign at a crossroads with arrows pointing to “BERLIN” behind them and “PARIS” in front. They laughed a little at that but not much—it was too dark and too confined and they were too bloody tired to want to do anything more than keep putting one foot in front of the other. And they were worried too that the Boche might start shelling again; the thought of getting hit just when they were getting out was unendurable—unless it was a Blighty wound of course. Any one of them would have given anything for that.

Finally, after what seemed like hours, they came out into the open and were able to march four abreast along the road, passing between the silhouettes of tall thin poplar trees. They met a company coming the other way and Rawdon shouted: “You’re going the wrong way, chums!” And they laughed more this time and broke out into song as the darkness began to dissolve into the misty grey light that heralded the dawn.

“Do your balls hang low?

Do they dangle to and fro?

Can you tie them in a knot?

Can you tie them in a bow?

Do they itch when it’s hot?

Do you rest them in a pot?

Do your balls hang low?”

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