So came three Russians one bitterly cold December night in 1854 to a small outlying picket of the 7th Royal Fusiliers. Private Norman, on single sentry-go, caught sight of the grey figures creeping stealthily towards him. Firing his rifle to sound the alarm, he rushed forward and leaped boldly into the trench where the enemy had taken cover. Two he seized and held prisoner, conducting them back to the British lines, but the third escaped. The plucky Fusilier got the Cross for this action when the time came to reckon up those who were most worthy of the honour. But to narrate the several exploits of the heroes of the trenches is to tell much the same story over and over again. A score or more of gallant fellows--Moynihan, Coleman, Alexander, McWheeney (who was never absent for a single day from his duties throughout the war), and others--braved the Russian fire to dash out into the open and rescue from certain death some wounded officer or private who lay exposed on the field. The V.C. was often earned many times over by these. Only a few stand out from the rest by reason of some special feature, such as Private John Prosser of the 1st Regiment, who, seeing a rascally soldier wearing the Queen’s scarlet in the act of deserting to the Russian lines, jumped out of his trench and chasing the fugitive under a heavy cross fire collared him and brought him back to camp--and, let it be hoped, swift justice. For this, and for rescuing a wounded comrade later on, Prosser gained his V.C. There were, too, the “heroes of the live shell” to whom I made reference some pages back. Sergeant Ablett, of the Grenadiers, with Privates Strong, Lyons, Coffey, McCorrie, and Wheatley, received the decoration for this act of valour. Plump into the trench in which each delved dropped a fizzing shell, and without a moment’s hesitation the plucky fellow lifted it up and flung it over the parapet, to burst more or less harmlessly outside. Sergeant Ablett’s shell fell right among some ammunition cases and powder barrels, and but for his prompt action a terrible explosion would have taken place with much loss of life. In Wheatley’s case the stalwart private attempted first to knock out the burning fuse, but failing to do this he coolly dropped his rifle and disposed of the unwelcome intruder with his hands. Of the dashing sorties upon the Russian rifle-pits pages might be written. I have only space to tell of one such. It may well serve as characteristic of all. Privates Robert Humpston, Joseph Bradshaw, and R. McGregor of the Rifle Brigade are my heroes. Far out on the Woronzoff Road, near some formidable quarries that had served the Russians well, was a strongly protected rifle-pit whence sharpshooters directed a deadly fire against a battery in process of formation by our men. It was essential that this “wasps’ nest” should be silenced.