May 1916Alex liked Captain Moran on sight, though he could think of better places for a first meeting. Following Bill Wallis into the blind darkness of the communication trenches, he found he had less trouble than he might have imagined. The men were sticking together, with Sergeant Wallis at the head and Corporal Fletcher at the rear. Most of the new fellows were being moved elsewhere and were no longer his lookout. Alex went up the line with a carrying party of thirty, mostly old hands. He’d managed to sleep during the day, so deeply that Fletcher had to shake him to rouse him. Now all his senses were stretched alive. The riven darkness slashed his vision, violently radiant with fire, while the air bucked, furrowed by metal. The noise pushed against his ears and the deceitful duckboards
