Jogged up through the ruins, to our guns. A number of large guns were firing, some right close to us. Fritz was lying low – but a number of wounded were brought down in stretchers running on bicycle wheels. Some of our planes flying low, worth watching, their bright silvery bodies, the large circles on their wings, and coloured devices making them resemble huge noisy insects. There were also many unpleasant sights and odours.
Daylight-saving commenced. Occasionally, one hears a rather amusing remark – today when we were all solemnly cleaning harnesses and everything was warm and still, a very large gun went off near by, shaking the building. Whereat one wag, turning on us a face of consternation, ejaculated “There, that’ll start the war all over again. Some bastard must have pulled the trigger!”
Everyone madly cleaning gear, against the General’s inspection tomorrow. General nuisance! Saw a balloon falling this afternoon from a great height. It came down very slowly, turning over and over in the air.
[Image: A 6 inch Mark VII gun of the Royal Garrison Artillery in action at Metz en Couture, 9 March, 1918. Ref: Imperial War Museums, Q 8563]