Looking like armed panhandlers, we reinforced our dugouts whenever there was a lull.
We froze our asses off at the loopholes, eyes glued to the other side, our guts clenched in fear and our noses running.
The Germans, who enjoyed working with wood, had laid out their trenches meticulously.
We could tell from their setup that they were planning to stay for a while, committed as ever to smashing our defenses and forcing us to hand over our afternoon tea.
But they weren’t in a celebrating mood either.