William J. Lendrim (or Lindrim, for his name is found spelt both ways), Corporal No. 1078, R.E., had three dates inscribed on his Cross, February 14th, April 11th, and April 20th, 1855. On the first occasion he was sent to do sapper’s work in a battery that was held by a hundred and fifty French Chasseurs. A hot fire from the Russian guns had wrought dreadful havoc among the gabions and raked the trenches, but Lendrim, assuming command of the Frenchmen, quickly set to work to repair the damage. With utter disregard for self, he was here, there, and everywhere at once, replacing a gabion where it had been struck down, digging in the trench and shovelling up earth round the weak places. Lendrim’s coolness and plucky example saved that battery from demolition, as the French officer in charge of the Chasseurs very properly noted in his report. His second exploit was to mount the roof of a powder magazine that had caught fire and, under a perfect hail of bullets, extinguish the flames. This was a danger to which batteries were particularly liable, the live shells and fire-balls that dropped among them soon setting the basket-work of the embrasures and other inflammable parts in a blaze. I shall have something more to say about the “heroes of the live shell” before this chapter is ended. The third date on our brave sapper’s Cross, April 20th, recalls a very daring feat on his part. Out among the rifle-pits, in the open, some Russians had erected a screen of brushwood, barrels, and sailcloth, behind which they thought themselves well secure. A party of British sappers who lay all night in a trench thought otherwise. In the darkness, just before dawn, a dozen of them, prominent among whom was Lendrim, dashed out and with bayonets fixed charged the rifle-pits and destroyed the screen. We come now to the eventful 18th of June, in the same year, when a desperate assault was made on the Redan, the while the French stormed the Malakoff, some distance to the right. With a column of sailors and soldiers that formed one of the attacking parties were Lieutenant Graham and Sapper John Perie of his own corps. They had scaling-ladders and sandbags with them, but these were not wanted after all, for the terrific fire that poured down on the open ground before the fortress walls made it impossible for the work to go forward. Even then men were found willing, nay anxious to try, and scores of redcoats dotted the rocky ground between the last trench and the abattis. But it was a hopeless task--a wanton waste of valuable lives. Very reluctantly Graham, who had taken command, ordered his men to retire. While, in the security of the trench, they waited for the Russian fire to diminish, the lieutenant once more showed of what stuff he was made. There was a wounded sailor lying out in front, calling piteously for help. An officer of the Naval Brigade heard him first, and asked for another volunteer to assist in bringing the wounded man in.