During that long month of fighting we were in a good many places in France and Belgium. At one time we were actually on the field of Waterloo, and could see in the distance the monument put up in memory of the battle. I dare say the Germans fancied they were going to do a lot with us at Waterloo; but it all ended in fancy, and we kept on the driving game with them till they were altogether forced back. When we could get at them we could beat them, though they were sometimes about ten to one, and in one little affair I saw twenty of our “Jocks”--Gordons, I think they were--scatter something like two hundred Germans. The Jocks badly wanted to get at the Germans with the steel, but the Germans just as badly didn’t want to be bayoneted, and those who weren’t shot scuttled. The fighting was not the only hard part of the Battle of the Marne. For nearly three weeks we never had a dry shirt on owing to the wet weather, and we never had our boots off; we hadn’t time for it, and we were kept too well at it. The poor horses were fearfully knocked up. They were like us--never had a chance to rest--and were three or four days without food. Once, during the retirement, we had only two hours’ rest in four days; but we daren’t stop. Sometimes we were on foot, sometimes in the saddle, and the Germans were after us in motor-lorries, full of troops. But however badly they handled us, I think it was nothing to the way in which we mangled them when our artillery got really to work, and especially when it came to “gun fire”--that is, rapid firing, each gun firing as soon as it is loaded. This means that you take no time between rounds; you simply blaze away, and the guns become quite hot. In one particular position every sub-section fired 150 rounds, so that, taking a whole battery, I should think they pretty well fired a thousand rounds in a day. It was on the Marne that my fifth horse was killed under me. A shell struck him, and before I could clear myself I fell over into a ditch, the horse on top of me, shot and shell flying all around as I went over. Two of my ribs were broken, and I was put out of action. I was picked up and carried down to the camp. I was in hospital there for three days before I was sent to London. I had a complete Uhlan’s uniform with me, and wanted to bring it home, but this bit of the saddle is all I have left. The Uhlan’s saddle is a wonderful thing, weighing 78 lb., compared with 12 lb. for the British saddle. Here is the piece; you can see that it is filled in with lead--why, I don’t know. And here is the torn khaki jacket I was wearing when my fifth horse was killed under me at the Marne--and this part is sodden with his blood. I had a round month of fighting, retreating, advancing, and fighting again, and apart from the broken ribs I was utterly done up; but I am pretty well again now. I am just off to see the doctor; the day after to-morrow I am to get married, the next day I rejoin, and after that--well, who can tell?