Okay I'm sorry-but what book are you reading that had ejaculated in it? Also I relate, when I was reading anne of green gables, one time Anne was described as "queer" and i was like "guess she's gay now, but didn't she marry Gilbert?"
It’s from the diary of Major General Cecil Lowther.
I’m currently going through the research material from my UK trip last year. There’s some great stuff in here.
Found the French next to us most cheery and looking wide awake. They had an awful contraption called a “piège à Boches”, so arranged that any German jumping in was impaled and caught in barbed wire. This French division has been in this part of the line since mid-October, and their little pathetic groups of graves just behind parts of our trenches, mark places where snipers are active.
They apparently have some facetious Germans opposite Givenchy now.
One of them shouted across to the Welsh Regt. “Is there anyone there from Swansea?”
Several answered “Yes”, whereupon he hurled a hand grenade across, with the remark – “Then you can divide that among you, you blighters.”
One burst a few feet over the crest-line, hitting gun, horses and my own poor horse. I had just time to call to the gunner drivers that it was no use running about when another 5.9 H.E shell came just right for us. It struck a little tree about 12 foot up its trunk and exploded.
I felt something hit me on the left breast and on right instep, no pain and did not think I was wounded. I looked up and heard Corpl. Jack saying his leg was broken, and the lad laying next to me looked pitifully round and I saw he was practically disembowelled by the base of the shell.
Then I opened my shirt, found a fair hole about 4 inches above the left nipple, and a lot of blood flowing, foot only bruised, but very painful, and end of the left spur shot away. The bullet, or shell fragment, had gone through my medal ribbons.
Did not feel sick and was not spitting blood, so concluded it was not serious, but as well to clear out; picked up my kit, got out the field-dressing and stepped off down the road. Clancy of the machine-gun detachment helped me unpack the FFD which I held on the wound. Halfway down the hill found B and C companies just arrived with Stephen; also my poor horse lying dead. Stephen had just finished him off. Secured my sword, on which the horse had fallen, bending it to scythe shape, and offered it to the advanced dressing station at Vendresse.
There Meaden diagnosed my trouble as a superficial injury; but he was wrong, as I know the bullet if not in me will be in my trousers. Got a dressing put on, felt fine, and asked if I might return to the battalion. This was refused, and quite right, as I soon felt groggy with loss of blood, and pain and stiffness increased.
At about 1 I drove off on the box of a horsed ambulance to Villers 4-5 miles back, and beyond the Aisne, where a fresh dressing was put on, and the missle was found lying on my breast bone. I decided not to have it out then as I had had enough interesting incidents for one day.
Of the sights and sounds at the dressing station it is better not to write.
The New York Times Dec 2 1917
publishes these pictures with the caption, “The Britannia, the British Tank which saw service in Flanders and took part in the Liberty Loan Parade on Fifth Ave, crushing a limousine in the streets of Toronto, Canada, during the recent Victory Loan Parade”
Benjamin Moogk claims this was shot on Nov 11 1918 but the New York Times photo is from Dec 2 1917
The Tunnel Mouth: Bellicourt; the Hindenburg Line: the southern entrance to the tunnel, Dec 1 1918
Painted by Arthur Streeton.
IWM (Art.IWM ART 2236)
“A view into the southern entrance to the tunnel of the St Quentin canal near Bellicourt in northern France, in the aftermath of the Battle of the St Quentin Canal and the breaking of the Hindenburg Line. A few British and Australian troops stand on the damaged wooden jetties on either side of the canal.