The grit of the British Tommy is amazing, as told by a Swiss correspondent who found himself with fourteen soldiers in a barn. A huge German shell suddenly “found” the barn in the very center and wrecked it. It was pitch dark; the Swiss was seriously wounded and decided to lay still until help should come. Suddenly a voice spoke out of the dark:

“Anyone left here?”

“Right here, old chap,” came an answer.

“Ah.” Then silence, and in a few moments came: “Say, old man, think you could give me a bit of a lift. Seems both of my pins are gone.”

“Sorry, old chap,” came the answer. “Wish I could, but they found both of my hands.”

“Oh,” came the answer. Then, after a pause: “That’s a bit inconvenient, isn’t it?”

“Somewhat,” was the reply.

After a few moments:

“Hell of a rumpus, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, quite.”

“Well,” came the final word, “someone will come along and find us.”

And “someone” did.