"We immediately opened fire on them; but, rapid as it was, it was impossible to stop them. They managed to get right through on our right. Then the next thing I saw was that I was properly surrounded, with no earthly chance of escape, so I was made a prisoner. Well, what do you think the Huns did? There would be about a dozen of us, I think, made to advance in front of them, to get shot at by our own people, who had retired to take up another position. Any man who made the least sign of resenting was immediately shot, and not yet being tired of life, I went, thinking I might have a possible chance of escape. "We advanced a few hundred yards, when they halted, and this time they made us put on their packs. Anyhow we had to advance again. This time we came under our own artillery fire, and I don't know yet how I was not blown to pieces. Really it makes my blood creep every time I think of it. "Well, we had to lie down, and I just turned to speak to a chum, when I got one right through the neck. I rolled up in a heap, but came to myself a few minutes after, and managed to make my way to a farmhouse, where I found the Germans were dressing their wounded. "I asked one of them to put my bandage on; but instead they made me go and look for 'Vater, vater.' I looked around for the 'vater,' but finding none, I went round to the other side of the house, and from here could see our guns just about 300 yards off. Now comes my chance. I had a good look round to see if everything was clear, so I dropped the jug I was to carry the 'vater' in, and 'hopped' it. Well, if the time was taken for that run, I bet a champion sprint winner would not have a look-in." * * * * * "I shall never forget the first night attack," writes Bombardier N. Tully of the R.F.A. "We had many guns in position--apparently more than the Kaiser's hordes bargained for. They came on out of their trenches shouting, 'Hoch! hoch! hoch!' but a few minutes afterwards they were screaming and cursing. Our shrapnel was mowing them down wholesale. . . . We gave them a bit of old England that night; the din of the guns and rifles was indescribable. We had a few spasmodic attacks the next few nights, but they gave me the impression that they were half-hearted and discouraged. I think it is the enemy who is fighting an uphill battle now. Our fellows are full of confidence in the final result. "I am awfully glad I am British. It does one good to see how cheerful our boys are, no matter how bad the weather; but, like me, I am sure they will long for the slaughter to cease, and to return to the best bit of land under the sun." * * * * *