We found that the only way to advance was for a few men, under an officer or an N.C.O., to make a short rush forward, and then to lie down flat and regain their breath. The whole battalion was mixed up, and I found myself on its left flank, where it joined on to the 6th Northumberlands. It was a case of every man using his own intelligence with courage. We made a good deal of progress, and took up a strong line with a hedge in front of it, which afforded some shelter. The order came down, however, that the advance had to be continued. I consulted an officer of the 6th and we decided to lead the men on at once. We advanced about thirty yards where the men could take cover behind another hedge, while others a little more to the right could take cover behind a sandbag wall, made on some former occasion, and which acted as a continuation of the hedge. On the right of this wall was a ruined farm building. In front of this position was a large open field, and at the other end of it, a few hundred yards distant, lay the village of St. Julien and the Germans. To cross this field without adequate artillery support was impossible, and yet we had been ordered to advance. Our present position by the farm, however, was being shelled to such an extent, that as far as our safety went it did not much matter where we were. While I was taking a short rest behind this last sandbag wall, I met a young officer of the 6th Northumberland Fusiliers wounded in the arm, who told me that he was in the office of Messrs. Dees and Thompson, my father’s solicitors. He and some other officers all insisted that I was their senior, and must take command of the troops in this part of the attack. We began our last advance, and made two or three short rushes. I had just finished the last of these, and was going to lie down, when I received a staggering blow on the back and fell forward. I suffered an agonising pain, and soon felt another blow on the back, also extremely violent. I began to find difficulty in breathing, and wondered if I would ever leave this spot. Any moment I expected would be my last. I felt faint, and called to a soldier near by, and asked him to give me some water; he at once threw me his water-bottle, and that somewhat revived me. I felt, however, that I might bleed to death, and I called to the man to see if he could come and help me. He came at once, but was unfortunately wounded in the leg in so doing. My position was a perilous one, as the Germans swept the plain with their murderous fire, and to stand up was certain death. Projectiles of all kinds were falling round me, and I began to realise that my chance of getting out alive was dubious. The man who had already befriended me now said that there was a ditch close by, and if I could crawl on my stomach he would try to pull me along by the leg. Every movement was agonising, but at last we managed to reach the ditch and lie there exhausted. By this time our advance was