The night was dark; the sky was thick with clouds; a drizzle of rain set in, and soon developed into a downpour. Behind their cavalry screen the enemy had pushed forward a vanguard of North Germans, who had marched rapidly through the leafy shades of the Forest of Mormal, where they were hidden from our airmen, and were able to advance with less fatigue than along the sun-baked roads amidst clouds of choking dust. The Germans were, therefore, fairly fresh when they formed up along the margin of forest which lies close upon the outskirts of Landrecies. They advanced in heavy column through the pouring rain and the blackness of the night, holding their fire and drawing nearer and nearer, confident that the harassed and worn-out British could make no long stand against them. The 4th British Brigade, consisting of the 2nd Grenadiers, the 2nd and 3rd Coldstreams and the 1st Irish Guards, held Landrecies. About 9:30 the pickets of the Coldstreams, who were guarding the road from the forest, heard the dull tramp of armed men. They cried out, "Who goes there?" and a voice replied in French, "We are the French. Do not fire." The interpreter with the British was not satisfied with the accent of the man who replied, and he asked the officer to repeat the challenge. This he did, and was at once knocked off his feet by the foremost "Frenchman." Then the Germans rushed forward, swept away the pickets, and poured into the narrow streets of the town. For a few minutes there was confusion amongst the Guards, who were caught unawares. Then their splendid discipline told. They opened a brisk fire, and soon the first line of the Germans was hurled back. On they came again in enormous numbers, until the streets were thronged with them. The Guards lay on the ground across the road, and a stream of bullets flew from their rifles; while the machine guns, some on the road and others on the housetops, tore blood-red lanes through the dense masses of the advancing enemy. The Germans were beaten back, but they rallied and came on again, while other columns tried to work round to the rear of the town through side streets. Everywhere they found their way blocked by the British, and all night long the fight raged. Hand-to-hand combats were frequent, and terrible struggles were witnessed in the flickering light of the houses that had been fired by the German shells. [Illustration: Men of the 9th Lancers saving the Guns. (See p. 88.) _From the drawing by Dudley Tennant._] German batteries pushed up close to the town. Some of the guns began firing at the Coldstreams almost at point-blank range. For a moment, in the midst of this death hail, our gallant fellows wavered. A major, however, rallied them. "Don't retire, boys," he yelled; "come on up." And the men advanced again. Well-aimed shots killed the enemy's gunners, and the bodies of a thousand German dead cumbered the streets.