I was one day assisting Colonel B---- to hold a board on a disabled soldier to decide the amount of his disability and his right to pension. His left arm was missing, and Colonel B----, in his sympathetic manner, asked him how he had lost it. The facts were that he and his officer, being one night out on a scouting trip in No Man's Land, were both wounded by rifle fire, the officer the more seriously. The private put his officer on his shoulders and carried him through a shower of machine-gun bullets to a place of safety in a shellhole near their own parapet, one of the bullets smashing the man's arm on the way. In the morning both were pulled in by comrades, and sent to the hospital. The officer died on the way without regaining consciousness, and the private's left arm had to be amputated. He alone knew the details of his heroic work, and he received an ordinary pension for a V.C. deed. He told his story at the colonel's request, in a quiet, modest, uncomplaining manner which gave it the stamp of truth. His case is one of many like it where no adequate reward has been given for great heroism; but their total avoidance is impossible. Sergeant-Major D---- took part in the Battle of the Somme, and did such excellent work under dangerous surroundings that he was recommended for a decoration, which recommendation was approved. In the usual course of events it was published in divisional orders that Sergeant-Major D---- had been awarded the Military Medal. But then the powers bethought themselves that he, being a warrant officer, should have been given instead the Military Cross, and as a result the whole order was cancelled, and he was given nothing. However, at the Battle of Vimy Ridge, he was a Lieutenant in our battalion. Some months previously he had been given his promotion, really against his own desires as he said that he could do better work in the junior position--a not very common form of modesty in the army. After this battle he was chosen for courageous and able work, and was awarded the Military Cross. Thus he at last came into his own.