But by this time the Germans were awake. They started everything they had at us in the way of rifle- and machine-gun fire, but the only men of my company who hesitated were the ten who were shot down. We got at them with the bayonet and they didn’t like it. In less than fifteen minutes we had turned them out of the trench. And the second trench. Then I was to have my first encounter with the rottenness of German degeneracy. In the second trench captured, we heard voices in a dug-out and I called to know who were down there--how many. The answer came up: “Six German wounded.” [Illustration: Bringing in prisoners] I believed them. I detailed Platoon Sergeant O’Harper to go into the trench and see what could be done for the wounded. I got a shock right afterward. It was O’Harper’s cry: “The damned dogs have stabbed me!” So ten of us followed O’Harper into the dug-out and “cleaned up.” There were nine Germans down there and none of them had a scratch until we got at them. I am afraid I ceased thinking of Germans as human beings from that time. I may as well frankly admit that through all my experiences in trench fighting since then, my habit became that of calling into a dug-out: “How many men are down there?” If the answer came (let us say) “Six,” we would throw three bombs into the dug-out and call: “Here--share these among you.” All my bombers had instructions to do the same. We didn’t hold that trench very long. I don’t think it was more than an hour. Information regarding the attack had been sent back to the German artillery and the two trenches we had captured were sent heaving into the air. My men were slaughtered all around me. But their sacrifice was not in vain because I had been able to judge and estimate for the information of my commanders the lay-out and strength of that particular position. I had sent a messenger back with my report and rough sketches. I hoped to hold the trench until reinforcements might come at dawn. But it was useless for the rest of us (I was afterward to find out that only twenty-five were left of my original eighty) to remain in the face of certain death. I ordered a retreat. German star-shells were making day out of night in No Man’s Land so we got together and dug in about one hundred and fifty feet from the trench whence we had fled. We camouflaged ourselves with corpses only too readily at hand. I sent back another messenger and secured reinforcements of three machine-gun companies and two hundred men. I hated the idea of giving up those two trenches. When daylight came, we were given another German “treat.” Above the wreck of the skyline trench bayonets stuck up and on them were the severed heads, with horrible smiles under their English caps, of twenty of my men.