Time was drawing near. I prepared my camera by clothing it in an old piece of sacking, and gently raising it on to the tripod I screwed it tight. Then gradually raising my head to the view-finder, I covered the section which was going to be "strafed," and wrapping my hand in a khaki handkerchief, waited. Our guns were simply pouring shells on the Bosche. The first of the 15-inch came over and exploded with a deafening roar. The sight was stupefying. I began to expose my film, swinging the camera first on one side then the other. Shell after shell came roaring over; one dropped on the remaining walls of a château, and when the smoke had cleared there was absolutely nothing left. How in the world anything could live in such a maelstrom of explosive it is difficult to conceive. I continued to expose my film at intervals until about 6 o'clock, and twice I had to snatch my camera down hastily and take shelter, for the "whizz-bangs" came smashing too close for safety. I was just taking down my camera when several shells exploded in the trenches about fifteen yards behind us. Then a man came running into our traverse: "Shure, sor," he said, "and it's gas-shells the dirty swine are sending over. My eyes seem to be burning out." His eyes were undoubtedly bad. Tears were pouring down his cheeks, and he was trying to ease the pain by binding his handkerchief over them. Then I smelt the gas, and having had a previous dose at Vernilles, and not wishing for further acquaintance with it, I bade my man rush as quickly as possible back to "The White City." I got back to H.Q. dug-out just in time for tea. I told the officers present of my success in filming the "strafe," and I learned that it was the first time Fritz had put tear-shells over them. "We must certainly prepare our goggles," they said. "Have you seen 'Jacob's Ladder'?" enquired one of the officers. "No," I replied, "I shall wait until dusk. It will then be safer to move about." We sat smoking and talking about the prospects of the "Big Push," and at last we all lapsed into silence, which was broken by the arrival of a lieutenant. The Captain looked up from his bench. "Hullo, what's up? Any news?" "Oh, no; nothing much, sir," said he, "but H.Q. wishes me to go out for a raid to-night. They want a Bosche to talk to; there are a few things they want to know. We haven't brought one in for several nights now. They asked me to go out again; I said, if there was one to be had my Company would bring him along." [Illustration: GEOFFREY H. MALINS, O.B.E., OFFICIAL KINEMATOGRAPHER TO THE WAR OFFICE] "Right-o!" said the Captain. "Who are you taking?" "---- for one, and a few men--the same lot that have been across with me before. H.Q. specially want to know the actual results of the heavy 'strafe.' They are going to cease fire to-night, between twelve and one. I want to find out where their machine guns are fixed up----" And so the conversation went on.