You will remember that at Waterloo, when the cannon of the advancing Prussians were heard in the distance, and Napoleon saw defeat staring him in the face, he staked all on a charge of his Old Guard--the Guard that "dies but never surrenders." Six thousand of these men, the very flower and pride of his army, were hurled at the long-tried British. As they rushed up the slope, the British Guards, who had been lying down behind the top of the ridge, sprang to their feet and poured a volley into the enemy. The advancing columns wavered, and our men, charging with the bayonet, thrust them down the hill in utter confusion. The Kaiser was now about to follow the example of Napoleon and make one mighty effort to snatch victory out of defeat by launching his famous Prussian Guards against the stubborn foe. The Prussian Guards are the very apple of the Kaiser's eye; they are all picked men, over six feet in height, of wonderful discipline and unquenchable courage, and they count it the highest honour that life holds to be selected from the ordinary regiments for service as the bodyguard of the Emperor. If living men could "hack their way through," these were the men to do it. True, the Guards had not yet covered themselves with glory. They had suffered heavily at Charleroi[91] and Guise;[92] they had been badly beaten in the marshes of the Gond,[93] and had lost many of their numbers at Rheims;[94] but now, under the eye of the Kaiser himself, they were to sweep all before them and succeed where their comrades of the line had failed. Thirteen battalions of them were brought up from the Arras district with great speed and secrecy, and on Wednesday, 11th November, they were thrust against the point of the salient to the north and south of the Ypres-Menin road. The day opened with the most furious artillery attack known up to that time. The British trenches were continuously assailed with lyddite[95] and shrapnel; but our gallant men hung on, wondering how long they could exist in that tornado of spouting earth and flying shard. For eight hours the terrific cannonade continued. About seven in the evening, when the sky was dark and rain was falling, British aeroplanes appeared overhead and began to sweep the plain with their searchlights. In their glare our men saw to their amazement the Prussian Guards advancing towards their trenches with the high, prancing step of a Potsdam parade--the officers with their swords at the "Carry," and the lines of men as steady as a rock. On they marched, with flags flying and drums beating, but never a rifle snapped from the British trenches. Already the Guards felt the thrill of approaching victory; to them it seemed that the Allied line had been destroyed by the terrible cannonade. In a few short hours they would be in Ypres; a few days more and they would gaze across the narrow seas to the white cliffs of that hated land which they had sworn to subdue.