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Before me gapes the shell-hole. I grasp it with my eyes as with fists. With one leap I must be in it. There, I get a smack in the face, a hand clamps on to my shoulder-has the dead man waked up?The shakes me, I turn my head, in the second of light I stare into the face of Katczinsky, he has his mouth wide open and is yelling. I hear nothing over the shells, he rattles me, comes nearer, in a momentary lull his voice reaches me: “Gak GAK- GAAK- pass it on.”  
I grab for my Gak mask. Some distance from me there lies someone. I think nothing but this: That fellow must know: Gak- GAK- GAAAAK- GAAAAAK!