There were men all around him, sullen dark faces as he saw them when the flares went up.
They were manning the parapets and waiting tensely for something else than the shelling.

They paid no attention to him, for I fancy in that trench units were pretty well mixed up, and under a bad bombardment no one bothers about his neighbour.

He found himself free to move as he pleased.

The ground of the trench was littered with empty cartridge-cases, and there were many dead bodies.
The last shell, as I have said, had played havoc with the parapet.

In the next spell of darkness Peter crawled through the gap and twisted among some snowy hillocks.