Again the boys were moved nearer to the first line. Under a terrific shell fire, in small bodies they stole to the dugouts in the grounds of what had been a beautiful residence. An order came that night for the boys to go up on a working party. I was utterly worn out, but gritting my teeth I fell in with the rest. Once more Ken Campbell showed his great heart. "God bless him and rest him where he lies." His superior does not exist, and he will always be my soldier ideal so long as I live. "Say, Baldwin, you stay behind." "What for, Sergeant-major?" "Don't answer me back; you're to stay here and sleep." Without a word I fell out, and walked to a dugout where I stretched myself out to sleep. But sleep would not come. I was worried. I was wondering whether it was really a working party the boys were detailed for. I imagined what they would think of me if I stayed back when they faced it. Sleep was out of the question, so I walked out to the sentry on the road. "Say, Alec," said I, "do you think the boys are going to take part in an attack tonight?" "Don't know, Bobbie, but why should you worry?" "Hell! the boys will think I funked." Further conversation, for awhile, stopped as we crouched, while Fritz treated the dressing station opposite to two big shells. We were unhurt. Wounded men were now passing in streams, and I asked if any of the Fifth were there. "No," was the reply, "the Fifth went over tonight." "Oh, heavens! Alec, they've been in a charge and they'll think I funked." "Don't be a blankety-blank fool, Bub. You have done your share today and you were ordered to stay back." But my mental agony increased. What would Fritz and Lib think of me? What would Muirhead, Shields and the others think? Presently a breathless runner stopped and asked, "Do either of you guys know the way to headquarters?" "Sure," said I, "come on." "What's doing?" said I, as we trotted along. "Oh Fritz has the wind up (excited) and is rapid firing." "Is that all? You're from the Eighth, eh?" "Yep." "Has the Fifth been doing anything?" "I heard they had gone over on our right." I almost vomited with shame as I heard his words. The two of us successfully dodged everything, and I led the way to the Old Man. The runner gave his message and was asked how everything seemed. "Are the men holding?" said the adjutant. "Sure, sir," was the reply with that ring of pride in his comrades that made one's heart sing. "Take a rest then, my boy, you need it, and take your own time getting back." "Thank you, sir." This over, I ventured to address the adjutant, who I thought was a little gentler natured than the Old Man. "Sir, did the Fifth go over tonight?" "No, they have a damned ticklish job, though, digging out in front." "May I go to them, sir?" "Why?" "You understand, sir, they'll accuse me of funking." "You go straight away and sleep, or I'll have you crimed for insolence."