Falling asleep amidst bombardment is a special skill of the veteran soldier. Unlike green recruits whose nerves might buckle under the thunderous chaos, the experienced soldier, weathered and hardened by bloodshed, can accurately gauge by sound alone the location and caliber of each incoming shell, and then estimate the timing of the enemy's charge. All before rolling over to continue their nap.
The greeting from the Albion people today was as fervently heated as always—12-pound field guns, guns of smaller calibers, and Congreve rockets drummed symphonically at dawn. The forward positions were repeatedly hammered, as one or two self-detonating landmines occasionally chorus.
The greeting was enthusiastic, but the results left much to be desired. Besides the destruction of some chevaux-de-frise, landmines, and trenches, the Albion artillerymen had accomplished little.
