The bombardment began on the morning of the 17th October. After days of preparation, days of taking Russian artillery fire without retaliating, the Allies were at last hitting back. The Russians, seemingly supplied with endless ammunition, greeted the cold dawn with desultory shelling, aiming at the so-far silent Allied artillery.
"There they go," Coleman grumbled, as he huddled into his greatcoat and hugged the nearest gabion. "If it"s not b****y sharpshooters, its b****y artillery firing at us. You"d think they had nothing better to do than blast away at the b****y 113th, these Ruskies."
"Aye," Riley said, "you"d think there was a war on or something."
"About time we fired back." Logan lifted his musket. "But we haven"t even got a decent musket between us." He turned to Jack. "Hey. Si
