I afterwards discovered that we were rather to the right of Hill 60, and that the British position, a mile or two ahead, was being held by a handful of men. In parts of the line this handful had been overwhelmed, and we were ordered to go forward and try to save the situation. The Canadians had been fighting against enormous odds, and were almost exhausted; a great many of them had been gassed, and some, whom our men came across, said that they could do no more. In such circumstances we were ordered to advance, although we had no precise instructions; apparently we were to go on as far as we could, and drive the Germans back, or at least hold them. We commenced our advance in ‘artillery formation,’ but soon extended into ‘open order.’ I won’t attempt to give many details of that long morning, as they are too complicated. We advanced and retired, and then advanced again, during which time several casualties occurred. The bursting of the shells all round one was rather trying, and a very strange experience to the uninitiated! A shell unfortunately burst in the middle of No. 1 Platoon (Morpeth), very seriously wounding Second Lieutenant Adams, and killing and wounding several of his men. Captain Flint, also of this company, was blown up by a shell, though not actually touched. He jarred his spine on landing again, having been carried to a great height. Some of the Germans were very close, and several of our men almost ran into them accidentally. This was made possible by the undulating nature of the ground. Our advance was a complete success, and the advance posts of the enemy withdrew. They could probably have overwhelmed our battalion, but fortunately were under the impression that they were opposed by a much larger force than they really were. The G.O.C. used our brigade as a bluff, and the fact that our men, in their enthusiasm, advanced at a great pace, lent colour to this. A Seaforth Highlander’s letter appeared in an Edinburgh paper, in which he said that they had received a terrible shelling, and had made up their minds that their last hour had come. Then suddenly they observed that the shells were passing over their heads, and looking back they saw to their joy the Northumberlands, advancing in perfect order, as if on parade. These Germans, who withdrew before us, I have since discovered, were beginning to come through the gap which had been made in our front line. If they had only known the number of British reinforcements, and had pushed their attack home, they might perhaps, to use an expression, have been marching into Ypres ‘in fours’ in the evening. As it was, our advance in open country completely bluffed them: they hesitated and were lost. Their hesitation enabled our front line to close its gap, and several of the enemy, who had broken through, and then withdrew before our advance, were captured.