Someone passed the word from the rear that the jar of rum which is allotted to each platoon and which is usually in charge of the platoon commander had been ditched (thrown away). I looked around for my batman to whom I had entrusted it, and I was informed he had gone ahead over No Man's Land with Lieutenant B---- in order to select my position in the jumping-off trench. When last seen he had the jar of rum with him. The rum is usually given out at "stand to" both in the morning and evening, one hour before dawn and one hour before dusk. After being in the wet and cold, it both braces and stimulates the men. While we were crouching and doubling over the ground from shell hole to shell hole, one after the other German white flares would go up and burst. We were seen by the Huns, who, probably thinking it might be a raiding party, turned their machine guns upon us. Those who happened to be outside of a shell hole fell flat, and awaited for orders. All this time our shells were dropping upon the German wire entanglements and front line trenches, which were then about 250 yards away from where we were out in No Man's Land. The German machine guns were searching out the whole of this territory. For fully one hour we were glued to the ground. As the "Zero Hour" was 5.30 A.M. we had lots of time to reach the jumping-off trench, yet, I could overhear remarks in a low tone of voice about the rum. It was still worrying the men. They were quite used to the machine gun bullets, and their only thought was how they might be cheated by fate of a small tot of rum before going "over the top." I was then in a shell hole that was very shallow. As I looked over the lip of it, I saw someone making his way in short rushes towards me. The man I saw was Lieutenant B----. He was trying to locate me amidst all the shell holes. I went over to meet him. He told me that everything was all right and that the battalion had only four casualties who were taken out of the line. He then gave me exact directions to my place in the jumping-off trench. There was a lull in the firing at this time, so I passed the word behind to the boys to advance and follow me closely. Just then, the Germans opened up with machine-gun fire, and word was passed up for the stretcher bearer. That meant a man wounded and at this time it was very awkward. I could not spare my stretcher bearer, as we were going to advance, and again I could not allow a wounded man to die for want of attention. Neither could I endanger the lives of the men in my platoon more than was necessary for that of one man. However, I pointed out to the stretcher bearer who had crawled from a shell hole near by, his location on the ground and gave him an idea where he would find our platoon in the jumping-off trench. I told him if the man could walk to give him first aid if necessary, but if he could not walk, to see that word would be passed back to the firing line in the rear and have them send out stretcher bearers.