Men fell on every side and the bullets spat and hissed and make a terrible cracking sound as they hit the stones, just as I was completing the third stage of our advance and was rushing over a demolished stone wall I tripped and losing my balance for a second the fall was ensured by my haversack containing two hundred rounds of ammunition swinging to the front and jamming between my legs; down I went breathless and lay there too exhausted to do anything. [With his comrades gone he decided to wait for the third wave, but only three men made it to him. Exposed, he dug desperately with his fingers] in the soft ground already covered with young barley three or four inches in height ... Feeling truly thankful for my preservation thus far I pushed my head as deeply into the hole as I could and with arms folded along the front of this miniature dugout as an additional protection for my head and neck I lay perfectly still. [After being out in the open for about four hours, darkness finally allowed him to move forward.]