Jim woke up dazed wondering what had happened. His helmet was lying beside him upside down and full of muddy water, and his Lee Enfield rifle lying across his knees. He realised he was in a shell hole and he had a lump on the side of his head the size of a goose egg or so he thought.
He was trying to assemble his thoughts, but the only thing he could recall was the name Epernay, and road signs that all pointed to Paris no matter which way you wanted to go.
Everything around him was deathly quiet. He raised himself up on one arm to look around, and all about him were dead soldiers and bits of dead soldiers. He heard the rattle of iron wheels in the distance, so he got up on his feet and looked in the direction of the noise. Sure enough there was a large wagon fully loaded rumbling towards him. He hailed it down and it ground to a halt. You lucky. The driver indicated for him to jump up beside him.
They met very few people or vehicles, and the people they met were in a hurry to be on their way. Jim was thankful that eventually they would be among British soldiers again as he heard distant booming of big guns.
On arrival at the British front headquarters Jim was taken under guard to see the officer commanding. He was led into an office and there were three officers sitting at a table. He was relieved of his rifle and helmet. Jim took off his dog tag and put it on the table. All I can remember is a place called Epernay, and road signs pointing to Paris, sir. Jim watched as the officers whispered to each other and then he was marched off to see the camp doctor for a report on his fitness.
