human
That blood's nothing, sir, explained the delighted private, coming to attention.
gpt
It ain't 'is own. I can show you the man wot that come art of. 'E was that sniper we never could spot, and I reckon it was 'arf me and 'arf Mr. Dashwood wot killed him.
human
And I sent him out of harm's way, as I thought! was the brigadier's inaudible whisper under his moustache, and then aloud he said:
gpt
Get four men and carry him back to his own dug-out. It will do him good to sleep the clock round, and he will do it better there.