Forthwith he stepped from his shelter into the road. He had barely taken a dozen steps, when a small shell landed quite a distance in front of him. About a second after the explosion, with a cry, the man threw himself flat on his face and lay still. Both of us knew that the shell had landed too far up the road to be very dangerous to him. We ran to our host, turned him over, only to find that he was stone dead. "Well I'm jiggered," said my runner chum. "What is it?" I asked. "Killed by a stone." It was quite true. The shell had hit the cobbles, and a flying splinter of stone had taken him in the head, killing him instantly. We helped to bury him. Killed in the very act of showing kindness to a comrade! Another debt to brother Boche. That day the company was gradually moved to a more advanced position, and again my heart tightened as I listened to the roar of the fight in front. I was kept busy carrying messages backwards and forwards to headquarters, to the front line, to the signallers, and with frequent messages to the artillery. It may be of interest to some for me to relate how I saw one of my messages acted upon. My message was a verbal one, and I delivered it as I received it as follows: "To O.C. 2nd Artillery Brigade: "Please search wood on my left flank, range about 2,000 yards." "From O.C. No. 2 Co. 5th Battalion. "_Time, 3 P.M._" The artillery O.C. in charge was seated in the forked branches of a tall elm tree, which by another of those unaccountable miracles had escaped Fritz's attention. Knowing the Boche's methods, I expected every minute to see the tree smashed to flinders by a salvo from his guns. The message, however, had to be delivered to him, so up the tree I scrambled. I felt as though forty different Boche artillery observers had their eyes glued upon me when I climbed that tree. Nothing happened however to the tree or its occupants, and I hailed the beaming artillery O.C. "Hello!" roared he. "Hello, sir." "Great work the boys are doing." "Yes, sir." Then I repeated my message. "Yours to command," said he, and bellowed an order through the mouthpiece of his 'phone. "Do you want to see what happens?" said he. "By gum, yes," said I, forgetting his rank in my excitement. True enough the wood was tapped at the very first shot, but after a few rounds, although the shooting was excellent, he gave the order to "Cease fire." "What have you quit for, sir?" "No more shells," laconically. I descended the tree and returned to the major.