I waited, and by and by the platoon commanders, Second Lieutenant Farman and Chislehirst, and Sergeants Blackwell and Barnes, came running along the top, snipers shooting at them as they ran along. They halted on the parados, saluting as they came up, and, still standing up, awaited orders, seemingly indifferent to the excellent target which they presented. "Lie down flat," I ordered. They did as I directed, their faces turned anxiously toward me, wondering what was up. "New operation orders just arrived from headquarters; previous orders cancelled. We are to advance through the wood and attack from the inside of the square." I hurriedly read the whole of the orders over to them, and they listened silently. "Go back to your platoons. The men are to be dressed in battle order by 2.50--it's now 2.30--by 3 P.M. the platoons are to be closed up along the trench, and the leading platoon will enter the wood in single file, other platoons following." As I glanced up I noticed their faces were pale; they were listening intently, but uttering no sound. They were receiving orders; they realised their responsibility, and they knew their duty. The last paragraph was underlined. I hurriedly read it and looked up at them again: "Just one more thing," I said. "These are my orders underlined: "YOU MUST REACH YOUR OBJECTIVE AT ANY COST. IF DRIVEN BACK, YOU ARE TO MAKE A STAND AT THE EDGE OF THE WOOD, AND HOLD OUT TILL THE LAST MAN FALLS." It sounded like a death sentence, a forecast of the hour of trial which we were to face. Only those who have received such orders on the field of battle can realise what it feels like. In those few dramatic moments we counted our lives as lost. We recognised how desperate was our task. Success we might hope for; but failure we must pay the price of. We must fight till the last man falls--and yet we were merely civilian soldiers. I looked into their faces; our eyes met. I understood; I could trust them; they could trust me. "That's all; return to your platoons and prepare to move." They had not uttered a word through all this; no words were necessary. They jumped to their feet; saluted as though we were back on Salisbury Plain, and the next moment ran along the parados to their platoons. I watched them, and saw them kneel down on the top of their trench, indifferent to the snipers' bullets whistling about their heads, hurriedly explaining the situation to their men. By 3 P.M. the men were ready and had closed along the trench to the wood. The movement had been seen by the enemy, and a terrific burst of firing commenced; although, at the time I could not see what effect it was having. I waited several minutes, but there was no further movement along the trench to indicate that the first platoon had entered the wood. I sent forward the message, "Carry on," but still no movement resulted.