For some time the field electric telegraph had been in operation under Lieutenant Stopford. It was worked by several sappers, sergeant Anderson being the chief executive non-commissioned officer. By the 8th April, lines of communication were open to the stations of divisions, to the trenches, and to head-quarters. That night the wire was laid to a cave near the first parallel on the right attack. It was no sooner completed than the sergeant received an order from Lieutenant Stopford to fix an instrument and battery in the cave, to obtain two orderlies from the covering party in the trenches, and apprise head-quarters as soon as the service was accomplished. This done, Anderson was directed to remain and work the instrument. Pleased with this the first appointment to the station—a dismally picturesque spot it was—he sent and received several messages. Among the latter was one to the general in command of the trenches, “to open fire from every gun at daylight.” The bombardment commenced at daybreak, but in the midst of the din, at ten o’clock in the morning, an orderly, in breathless haste, delivered a note to the sergeant announcing the rather startling news that no communication could be sent to him from head-quarters, as it was supposed the wire was cut. He was, therefore, directed to examine and repair it. With some of the party, off he started, in a drenching rain, driving through sheets of water and swamp, and sinking at every step midleg in mud. He did not require to use the galvanometer to test the wire, for after bounding over the 21-gun battery, he soon found the spot where the current was interrupted. It was in the Woronzoff ravine, near the road, and in rear of the battery. A Russian 68-pounder had cut the line and laid about five feet of it bare. The duty was not devoid of danger. Shells burst around and shots flew by, but none of the manipulators were hurt. Removing the damaged wire, the sergeant replaced it with an approved piece, securing the connection by two joints; and after covering it with gutta-percha, relaid it in the furrow. It was a delicate operation to be performed under fire and required a cool head and a steady hand to effect it. On returning to the cave his situation was extremely disagreeable. Driven by a cutting wind, the rain beat into the chamber, and pattered against the faces of the operators. At whatever cost, the sergeant was determined to maintain the instrument in working order, and, accordingly, without any consideration for his own comfort, took off his mackintosh, and with it hooded the instrument which was yet to carry out important correspondences. There was no rest in the cave; the mind was anxious, the eye on the stretch; and in that miserable hole, for more than thirty hours, the sergeant was at his post. When relieved, he again passed along the communication to mend it, if necessary; but in all parts it was efficient, although he found six shot holes and several cannon balls lying on the line.