The colonel came up at once and ordered the injured man to go back to the hospital in a village about a mile and a half up the road, in rear of the bridge. I was told off to take him, and we went to a house that had been turned into a hospital, the people in it being typically French. There were some sad cases there, amongst them one of our own fellows who had been severely wounded and a trooper of the 4th Hussars who was the only survivor of a reconnoitring party. He had been shot while going through the village that morning. Just at that time we had had many losses of small bodies--in one case a sergeant and five men had been blown to pieces. After I had got the wounded man into the hospital I asked the “monsieur” in charge of the house for some tea, which he very willingly produced--it had no milk in it, of course, but by that time I had almost forgotten that milk existed. At this time the village was being shelled, but that did not affect the enjoyment of my tea-drinking, and after that refreshing draught and a chunk of “bully” and some biscuit crumbs which I found in the corner of a none-too-clean haversack, I “packed down” for the night. At about four o’clock next morning I awoke and went back to the bridge, which my battalion had crossed on the previous day, the “Die-hards” being the first to have the honour to cross. By this time we had got past the sweltering stage of things and had become accustomed to soaking weather, and on this particular morning I was thoroughly cold and wet and generally “fed up” with things; but I still glowed with the longing to get level with the Germans. You must bear in mind that regiments had been broken up and scattered in the most astonishing manner and had become mixed up with other regiments, and I had lost my own and had to set to work to find it. I got over the bridge and reached some artillery. “Have you seen anything of the Middlesex?” I asked. “Yes,” the gunners answered, “they’ve just gone into action on the brow of the hill.” I made my way towards the top of a neighbouring hill and found that my battalion had taken up a position there, but I had to wander about aimlessly, and I did so till I came across one or two men who were separated from the battalion. They directed me to the actual position, which was on the ridge of the hill, and to the ridge I went and found that it was lined with remnants of the brigade. I tried to find my own company, but could not do so, as it had been surprised in the night; so I attached myself to another and lay down with the corporal on the sodden ground. Wet through, cold, hungry and physically miserable, but still tough in spirit, we lay there, wishing that all sorts of impossible things would happen. The corporal showed me where he had hit a German scout. We watched the poor devil rolling about--then we finished him off.