"But later, Major discovered that the shells we fired during the day would be fired back the next day, so he no longer paid attention to the harassment at night from the other side."
The Duty Officer shrugged, "Anyway, in the dead of night, pitch black, nothing much comes out of it."
The Duty Officer raised his hand pointing above, "The other side is as clear as a mirror. At night, during harassment, they aim high, so the shells fly over our heads, fall into the river, making it impossible for us to retrieve them.
"In recent nights, they've even started firing blanks. Listen, wasn't there just the sound of firing earlier and no sound of shells?"
The Officer listened carefully, squinted slightly and said, "Are you saying that the enemy's cannons are already relying on recycling the shells you fired over to shoot?"
"Yes, but who isn't doing the same?" The Duty Officer sneered, "We do it too, we have to draw lots to go into the trenches to pick up shells."
