"Oh, repairing the wire, were you? Well, don't repair any more"--and Butler had just time to see him level his revolver and then he dropped unconscious. The bullet had hit him in the thigh. But his communication had reached headquarters that he was wounded and it was not long before the stretcher bearers came out and found him. They took him to the dressing station, where it was found necessary to amputate his leg, but he parted gladly with his dented member when the O.C. told him that his grit and endurance were a splendid example for the entire unit,--"Aye," he added, "and for the whole Empire." * * * * * Service was being held here in the field one Sunday morning and an incident occurred that makes me shake every time I think of it,--not so much at the incident itself as in the surrounding circumstances. In the midst of the service, a buzzing overhead announced the presence of German hawks and a dropping of bombs further announced that they had seen us and intended paying their respects. A face turned upward is one of the most easily detected objects by an airplane, and although we had strict orders on no account to look up, the temptation for some was too strong. Meantime, the minister continued to read the service, but the responses were not as hearty as they had been, and he himself was standing with shoulders hunched up to the back of his neck, the book pulled up to his nose, and furtively trying to see through his eyebrows the danger-birds in the blue. In the midst of the solemn moment an officer, glimpsing some of the men turning their faces skyward, bellowed, "Damn you, keep those mugs down." It was our good fortune that none of the messages reached their intended destination. CHAPTER VII SANCTUARY WOODS (_3rd Battle of Ypres_) The third battle of Ypres commenced June 2, lasting until June 15, 1916. Sanctuary Woods was a cluster of trees, comprising about one thousand in number, and they were the very finest and noblest specimens of their various types,--oak, elm, ash and beech. They were located just one mile outside the city in a northwesterly direction. One of our trenches ran northeast and southwest through the middle of the woods. The line had been exceptionally quiet for the space of a week. My battery of six guns was located at a chateau known as the Belgian Garden, about 600 yards in the rear of the wood. Two guns were ordered into the wood as a sacrifice battery, and my usual luck attached me to one of them. We were located in a dry ditch, 300 yards back from the front line. Our orders, as usual in the case of the sacrifice battery, were to wait until the Germans, when they broke through, if they did, were almost in line with our guns.