At two or three or four hundred yards no one of the marksmen of the P. P’s, and there were several said to be able to “shoot the eye off an ant,” could miss the target. As for Corporal Christy, the old bear hunter of the Northwest, he leaned out over the parapet when a charge began because he could shoot better in that position. They kept on knocking down Germans; they didn’t know that men around them were being hit; they hardly knew that they were being shelled except when a burst shook their aim or filled their eyes with dust. In that case they wiped the dust out of their eyes and went on. The first that many of them realised that the German attack was broken was when they saw green blots in front of the standing figures--which were now going in the other direction. Then the thing was to keep as many of these as possible from getting back over the hill. After that they could dress the wounded and make the dying a little more comfortable. For there was no getting the wounded to the rear. They had to remain there in the trench perhaps to be wounded again, spectators of their comrades’ valour without the preoccupation of action. In the official war journal where a battalion keeps its records--that precious historical document which will be safeguarded in fireproof vaults one of these days--you may read in cold official language what happened in one section of the British line on the 8th of May. Thus: “7 A. M. Fire trench on right blown in at several points.... 9 A. M. Lieutenants Martin and Triggs were hit and came out of left communicating trench with number of wounded.... Captain Still and Lieut. de Bay hit also.... 9.30 A. M. All machine guns were buried (by high explosive shells) but two were dug out and mounted again. A shell killed every man in one section.... 10.30 A.M. Lieut. Edwards was killed.... Lieutenant Crawford, who was most gallant, was severely wounded.... Captain Adamson, who had been handing out ammunition, was hit in the shoulder, but continued to work with only one arm useful.... Sergeant-Major Frazer, who was also handing out ammunition to support trenches, was killed instantly by a bullet in the head.” At 10.30 only four officers remained fit for action. All were lieutenants. The ranking one of these was Niven, in command after Gault was wounded at 7 A. M. We have all met the Niven type anywhere from the Gulf of Mexico to the Arctic Circle, the high-strung, wiry type, who moves about too fast to carry any loose flesh and accumulates none because he does move about so fast. A little man Niven, a rancher, a horseman, with a good education and a knowledge of men. He rather fits the old saying about licking his weight in wild cats--wild cats being nearer his size than lions or tigers.