A battery changing position at a frantic gallop scattered the stragglers right and left.
A shell screaming like a storm banshee went over the huddled heads of the reserves.

It landed in the grove, and exploding redly flung the brown earth.

There was a little shower of pine needles.
Bullets began to whistle among the branches and nip at the trees.
Twigs and leaves came sailing down.

It was as if a thousand axes, wee and invisible, were being wielded.

Many of the men were constantly dodging and ducking their heads.
The lieutenant of the youth's company was shot in the hand.