I had just reached the corner of the building when I heard the shriek of a shell coming nearer. I guessed it was pretty close, and without a moment's hesitation dropped in the mud and water of a small ditch, and not a moment too soon for with a dull thud the shell struck and burst hardly seven feet from me. Had I not fallen down these lines would never have been written. Picking myself up, I hurried on. Still the shells continued to drop, but fortunately at a greater distance. When I reached Croix Rouge, I was literally encased in mud. Our progress along the road had been anxiously watched by the sentries and by my chauffeur. "Well, sir," said the latter, with a sigh of relief, "I certainly thought they had you that time." CHAPTER IV THE BATTLEFIELD OF NEUVE CHAPELLE A Visit to the Old German Trenches--Reveals a Scene of Horror that Defies Description--Dodging the Shells--I Lose the Handle of My Camera--And then Lose My Man--The Effect of Shell-fire on a Novice--In the Village of Neuve Chapelle--A Scene of Devastation--The Figure of the Lonely Christ. It occurred to me that an interesting film might be made out of scenes of the battlefield of Neuve Chapelle. The very thought of it conjured up a reeking, whirling mass of humanity, fighting with all the most devilish, death-dealing weapons that had ever been conceived by the mind of man. I decided to do a picture of the scene, and took with me an orderly who had never been under fire before. We proceeded along the La Bassée Road, and at the Croix Rouge proceeded on foot towards Neuve Chapelle. As usual, Bosche shelling was so consistent in its intensity that we thought it advisable to spread out a bit in case a shell burst near us. My guide was Major ----, who commanded one of the regiments holding the ground on the other side of Neuve Chapelle. Eventually I reached the assembly trenches, where our men concentrated for the great attack. In shape they were just ordinary trenches, branches off a main gallery, but they were in an awful state of decay, and literally torn to shreds by shell-fire. What tales these old sandbags might tell if only they could speak, tales of our brave boys and our Indian troops that would live for ever in the history of mankind. Standing upon one of the parapets, I looked round, and marvelled that it was possible in so small a section of ground so many men were hidden there. Quickly formulating my programme, I decided to begin at the assembly trenches, and follow in imagination the path of the troops during the battle, ending up in the ruins of Neuve Chapelle village itself, which I could see in the distance. "Be careful," came the warning voice of a major, "the whole of the ground here is in view of the Bosche artillery observers. If they see anyone moving about they'll start 'strafing' like anything, and I assure you they do it very conscientiously." I therefore kept as low as possible.