In such case the smoke of the first gun obscures the aim of the rest. The Russian Artillery at Balaclava went off at the word of command, all together. One tremendous volley was heard with flashes of flame through the rolling smoke. While they reloaded the smoke lifted so that they could see to take aim again. There were probably twenty cannon at our right firing at us, and two batteries—twelve guns—in front. The batteries at the left on the Fedioukine Heights were in action, but their fire probably did not affect the first lines. Their fire was directed on the Chasseurs d’Afrique, who moved toward them simultaneously with our move forward. The direction was such, however, that the shells would fall among the supports, Colonel Douglas’ and Lord Paget’s lines. If we had been moving over uneven ground we should have had some slight protection in the necessary uncertainty of aim of the guns, but moving as we did in compact bodies on smooth ground directly in range, the gunners had an admirable target and every volley came with terrible effect. There is a natural instinct to dodge cannon balls. In such fire as we were under it changed to an impulse to hurry. There was no time to look right or left, and the guns in front were what I looked out for. They were visible as streaks of fire about two feet long, and a foot thick in the centre of a gush of thick white smoke, marking about every three hundred yards of the way, as they would reload in 30 or 40 seconds. The last volley went off when we were close on them. The flame, the smoke, the roar were in our faces. It is not an exaggeration to compare the sensation to that of riding into the mouth of a volcano, but those who did not fall were through the guns in an instant and full of fight. The action of the scattered troops behind the battery and on the way back was sufficient proof that they were not frightened or demoralized, even by the proceeding—unheard of for Cavalry—of attacking batteries in front. Before we reached the guns every officer of my squadron, the second, was either killed or wounded, leaving no one to command us.