Another remarkable incident I witnessed at this time was the escape of a German cavalryman. He was an Uhlan, a scout, I take it, and quite alone. We were on the march and had been told that the German cavalry were in large numbers near us, and so that we should be ready for them we took up a position, with some Irish infantry to the left of us. We were lying in position on a hill, and in front of us was three or four miles of good flat country, so that we should have had a fine view of cavalry in force. We watched and waited, but the threatened cavalry did not come--all we saw was this solitary Uhlan, a mere speck on the wide plain. As soon as the Uhlan was seen the rifles rattled and it was expected that he would be potted; but he seemed to bear a charmed life. The Irish battalion gave him a particularly heavy fire--the Seaforths were too far off to reach him with the rifle; but the Uhlan galloped gaily on, and it was quite amusing to watch him. No doubt he thoroughly enjoyed himself--at any rate he galloped unscathed across two or three miles of open country, and got away. It was not until we were within about eighteen miles of Paris that the retirement ended and we began the offensive. We had had a very hard time, and were to have a few days’ rest, but we never got it. Yet in spite of the hardships we had some very pleasant times, because of the beauty of the country and the season. Joyful indeed was the day when we began to drive the Germans back, and it was the more joyful because the advance was almost as swift as our retirement had been. On that wonderful advance we saw some horrible things--I will not dwell on German barbarities, though there were many proofs of them--including great numbers of horses which had been killed or wounded and left just where they had fallen. No attempt had been made to dispose of the decaying carcases and many a poor brute had died a lingering death. I was greatly struck by the Germans’ cruelty to their horses, in leaving them like this; but that was one proof of the hurriedness of the enemy’s retreat--the Germans who had got so near Paris and were then flung right away back from the city. I need hardly say that whenever a sign of movement was noticed in a horse a man was sent to put the poor thing out of its misery. There was still plenty of hardship to put up with, but that did not matter so much when we were driving back the Germans.