5.55 a.m. Everything was still. No artillery. No rifle fire. William jerked as something sailed high above. A bird. In the east, the sky had turned a dull grey.
6.00 a.m. The mine? William held his breath. Nothing. 6.01 a.m. Silence. Why wasn’t— Then out in front of them, the world erupted.
A colossal roar split the air. Huge shafts of white and red fire leaped skywards. The ground under their feet lurched and bucked. In the dawn half-light, William glimpsed earth hurtling up in great fountains. Silhouetted against the flames behind, posts, concrete slabs, twisted shapes that must be men somersaulted through the air.
The noise was monstrous. He saw Jerry crouched, hands over his ears, mouth open. William realised his own hands were clamped to his head.
From behind them, every British g
