The Hero W. Somerset Maugham Fiction Classics Historical Psychological

<p><strong>We were sent to take an unoccupied hill. </strong>Our maxim was that a hill is always unoccupied unless the enemy are actually firing from it. Of course the place was chock full of Boers; they waited till we had come within easy range for a toy-pistol and then fired murderously. We did all we could. We tried to storm the place but we hadn't a chance. Men tumbled down like nine-pins. I've never seen anything like it. The order was given to fire and there was nothing to fire at but the naked rocks. We had to retire -- we couldn't do anything else; and presently I found that poor Larcher had been wounded. Well I thought he couldn't be left where he was so I went back for him. I asked him if he could move. 'No' he said 'I think I'm hurt in the leg.' I knelt down and bandaged him up as well as I could. He was simply bleeding like a pig; and meanwhile brother Boer potted at us for all he was worth. 'How d'you feel?' I asked. 'Bit dicky; but comfortable. I didn't funk it did I?' 'No of course not you juggins!' I said. 'Can you walk d'you think?' 'I'll try.' I lifted him up and put my arm round him and we got along for a bit; then he became awfully white and groaned 'I do feel so bad Parsons' and then he fainted. So I had to carry him; and we went a bit farther and then--and then I was hit in the arm. 'I say I can't carry you now' I said; 'for God's sake buck up.' He opened his eyes and I prevented him from falling. 'I think I can stand' he said and as he spoke a bullet got him in the neck and his blood splashed over my face. He gave a gasp and died.</p>