After I had finished the service, the officer asked for some water.

I went down and got him a mouthful very strongly flavoured with petrol from the tin in which it was carried.

He took it gladly, but, just as I had finished giving him the drink, a shell burst and there was a loud crack by his side.

"Oh," he cried, "they have got my other leg." I took my electric torch, and, allowing only a small streak of light to shine through my fingers, I made an examination of the stretcher, and there I found against it a shattered rum jar which had just been hit by a large piece of shell.
The thing had saved him from another wound, and I told him that he owed his salvation to a rum jar.

He was quite relieved to find that his good leg had not been hit.