I made a big detour to avoid showing myself on the sky-line. I knew the general direction of our Brigade Headquarters, and after half-an-hour's steady trudging with various creepings and crawlings I arrived and delivered my message. I returned quickly towards Pear-tree Gully. I stopped once to listen for the “Pop-pop-pop!” of our machine-gun but I could not hear it. I hurried on. It was downhill most of the way going back. I crept up through the bushes and looked about for signs of our men and the officer. I saw a man of the machine-gun section carrying the tripod-stand, followed by another with the ammunition-belt-box. “Seen any Medical Corps here?” “They've gone down--'ooked it... you'd better get out o' this quick yourself--we're retreating--can't 'old this place no'ow--too 'ot!” “Did the officer leave any message?” “No--they've bin gone some time--come on, Sammy.” Well, I thought to myself, this IS nice. So I went down with the machine-gunners and in the dead grass just below the gully I found a wounded man: he was shot through the thigh and it had gone clean through both legs. He was bleeding to death quickly, for it had ripped both arteries. Looking round I saw another man coming down, hopping along but very cheerful. “In the ankle,” he said; “can you do anything?” “I'll have a look in a minute.” I examined the man who was hit in the thigh and discovered two tourniquets had been applied made out of a handkerchief and bits of stick to twist them up. But the blood was now pumping steadily from both wounds and soaking its way into the sandy soil. I tightened them up, but it was useless. There was no stopping the loss of blood. All the time little groups of British went straggling past--hurrying back towards the bay--retreating. It was impossible to leave my wounded. I helped the cheerful man to hop near a willow thicket, and there I took off his boot and found a clean bullet wound right through the ankle-bone of the left foot. It was bleeding slowly and the man was very pale. “Been bleeding long?” I asked. “About half an hour I reckon. Is it all right, mate?” “Yes. It's a clean wound.” I plugged each hole, padded it and bound it up tightly. I had a look at the other man, who was still bleeding and had lost consciousness altogether.