Written well over ninety years ago while the experiences of youth were still fresh in the authors mind, this is the story of a seventeen-year-old boy from the time he joined Kitcheners Army, as one of the first hundred thousand in 1914, until he found himself in hospital--an officer with the Military Cross--recovering from his last wound, on the day of the Armistice, 11 November, 1918.In no way a formal record of the great and terrible events it describes, this is a purely personal, almost private, account. It is a plain, unvarnished tale--and even more effective for that--of heroism, and the horror peculiar to trench warfare of the First World War.Interspersed with moments of pity, humor and a deep response to natural beauty and peace out of the firing line, it is a record, which in its details, direct simplicity and manner of telling, comes nearer to the truth than many more ambitious accounts.