his hands as he sought about for enemy troops. The dugout had a right angle turn at its end and suddenly a German appeared, wielding a wicked-looking medieval club with nails embedded along its length. He was a huge man and charged at Jack and Sean. Jack had placed his rifle on the bottom of the trench to arm himself with bombs, and was now virtually helpless against the huge German.
Sean flung out his arm and emptied his revolver into the charging German, who fell dead at Jack’s feet. Without hesitating, Jack pulled the pins from the grenades and hurled them around the corner of the trench. Screams of wounded men followed the twin explosions. Jack snatched up his rifle and advanced along the trench to peer cautiously around the corner where he saw the victims of the grenades either dead or badly wounded. The scent of blood filled the air along with the acrid smell of cordite. A section of German soldiers spilled from a dugout doorway that led down to concrete-reinforced shelters. Jack let out a roar and charged the Germans emerging from their bunker. He caught the first in the chest with the end of his bayonet and pushed him back into the entrance, forcing the men following him to reel back. Heaving with all his might, Jack extracted the bloody bayonet and stepped back as a volley of rifle fire ripped from the bunker door.
Before Jack could react, three determined soldiers rushed through the entrance to confront him. Without hesitation, he charged them, skewering a second soldier through the throat. The falling man caused the rifle to be pulled from his hands and the Australian immediately picked up an entrenching tool that lay close by. Using it as part-club, part-axe, he fell on the two remaining German soldiers, who had been unable to bring their rifles to bear on him in the enclosed space. The edge of the swinging shovel caught one of the enemy in the arm, eliciting a howl of pain from the soldier, whose arm had been partly severed. The man behind him had been able to bring up his rifle and thrust at Jack with his own bayonet, forcing Jack to trip. He dropped the shovel and fell onto his back. For a moment he could clearly see the features of the man about to kill him and noticed that he was not young. Maybe in his forties, Jack thought, as he waited helplessly for the bayonet to take his life. But suddenly the German crumpled as the top of his head was smashed, despite the protection of his helmet. A stray bullet – friend or foe – had saved Jack, who scrambled to his feet, retrieving his rifle from the dead soldier with a grunt and extracting the bayonet from the man’s throat. He was aware of a Maxim machine gun rattling off long bursts only feet away, around another corner of the trench. Jack fumbled in the bomb bag for another grenade, pulled the pin and hurled it through the air. It exploded but the machine gun only hesitated for a moment before pouring more death into the ranks of still advancing Australians. Jack knew that the only way to silence the deadly gun was to personally kill the crew that manned it. Once again he advanced down the trench, stepping over the bodies of the men he had killed. When he rounded the corner, he saw two Germans crouched behind the belt-fed machine gun, focused on spraying the advancing Australian infantry. Jack charged, this time using his rifle like a club, and fell on the machine-gun crew with adrenaline-pumped savagery. He smashed at the helmeted heads and then reversed the rifle to slash and stab with the already bloody bayonet.
Gasping for air, Jack stood back to see that he had killed both men who now lay in their own blood at the foot of the trench. He yanked the heavy weapon off its tripod and placed a grenade under it. Jack knew that he did not have time to strip the weapon to render it useless and hoped that the grenade would damage it enough to make it inoperable. After pulling the pin, he retreated quickly before the bomb exploded. He peeked around the corner
Sean flung out his arm and emptied his revolver into the charging German, who fell dead at Jack’s feet. Without hesitating, Jack pulled the pins from the grenades and hurled them around the corner of the trench. Screams of wounded men followed the twin explosions. Jack snatched up his rifle and advanced along the trench to peer cautiously around the corner where he saw the victims of the grenades either dead or badly wounded. The scent of blood filled the air along with the acrid smell of cordite. A section of German soldiers spilled from a dugout doorway that led down to concrete-reinforced shelters. Jack let out a roar and charged the Germans emerging from their bunker. He caught the first in the chest with the end of his bayonet and pushed him back into the entrance, forcing the men following him to reel back. Heaving with all his might, Jack extracted the bloody bayonet and stepped back as a volley of rifle fire ripped from the bunker door.
Before Jack could react, three determined soldiers rushed through the entrance to confront him. Without hesitation, he charged them, skewering a second soldier through the throat. The falling man caused the rifle to be pulled from his hands and the Australian immediately picked up an entrenching tool that lay close by. Using it as part-club, part-axe, he fell on the two remaining German soldiers, who had been unable to bring their rifles to bear on him in the enclosed space. The edge of the swinging shovel caught one of the enemy in the arm, eliciting a howl of pain from the soldier, whose arm had been partly severed. The man behind him had been able to bring up his rifle and thrust at Jack with his own bayonet, forcing Jack to trip. He dropped the shovel and fell onto his back. For a moment he could clearly see the features of the man about to kill him and noticed that he was not young. Maybe in his forties, Jack thought, as he waited helplessly for the bayonet to take his life. But suddenly the German crumpled as the top of his head was smashed, despite the protection of his helmet. A stray bullet – friend or foe – had saved Jack, who scrambled to his feet, retrieving his rifle from the dead soldier with a grunt and extracting the bayonet from the man’s throat. He was aware of a Maxim machine gun rattling off long bursts only feet away, around another corner of the trench. Jack fumbled in the bomb bag for another grenade, pulled the pin and hurled it through the air. It exploded but the machine gun only hesitated for a moment before pouring more death into the ranks of still advancing Australians. Jack knew that the only way to silence the deadly gun was to personally kill the crew that manned it. Once again he advanced down the trench, stepping over the bodies of the men he had killed. When he rounded the corner, he saw two Germans crouched behind the belt-fed machine gun, focused on spraying the advancing Australian infantry. Jack charged, this time using his rifle like a club, and fell on the machine-gun crew with adrenaline-pumped savagery. He smashed at the helmeted heads and then reversed the rifle to slash and stab with the already bloody bayonet.
Gasping for air, Jack stood back to see that he had killed both men who now lay in their own blood at the foot of the trench. He yanked the heavy weapon off its tripod and placed a grenade under it. Jack knew that he did not have time to strip the weapon to render it useless and hoped that the grenade would damage it enough to make it inoperable. After pulling the pin, he retreated quickly before the bomb exploded. He peeked around the corner
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