In the early morning of August 31, the infantry from New South Wales, Victoria and Tasmania, got orders to attack. The men were then in the locality of Clery-sur-Somme, and by a strange coincidence rations came to hand just as the attack was about to start. The mail also arrived with letters and parcels from home, but war cannot stop for matters of such little import as the reading of letters and the filling of hungry stomachs. Leaving the hot steaming dixies of tea behind them and stuffing their letters in their pockets the Australians in the cold damp morning, unaided by tanks or barrage, set out to attack. Peronne was in flames, Mont St. Quentin was impregnable, the Germans were offering a stubborn resistance. But no faltering for the "Diggers" when they were "up against it"! The day cleared as they swept out from Clery-sur-Somme and made their way across the level stretch of land that lies between that village and their objective, fighting all the road and clearing the enemy from the old Somme trenches which lined the way. And as they fought they could see a hillock in the distance standing blank and bald, and to all seeming, impregnable. This was the steep promontory of Mont St. Quentin, the summit of which the brave soldiers of the New South Wales Brigade had to take. And to-day it presented a most formidable appearance and inaccessible front. But the men knew no stay, they prepared their hearts for a sublime suicide. Letters as yet unread were taken from their pockets, torn to shreds and flung to the winds. Though confronted with an almost certain death they were not going to give any information to the enemy. Wire entanglements unbroken by shell-fire blocked the way of the soldiers of New South Wales, but undaunted, they sought for openings and wormed their way through. Some took off their coats, their packs, lifted props and sandbags that lay by the way, threw these on the wires and clambered over. The promontory was stormed, the ready bayonet brought into play and the enemy was cleared off Mont St. Quentin. At this one swift assault they scooped in most of the whole German rearguard north of Peronne, and captured the great natural position overlooking the city and took 1,500 prisoners. It was here that 250 Australians captured 800 Germans, big soldiers of the Prussian Guards. In addition to the men the colonel of the battalion was taken prisoner, an irate individual who was exceedingly annoyed because the Australians had dared to capture him or his men. Bristling with arrogance he blustered and swore at the Australian officer who questioned him. How dared the Australians, the common Australian soldier, order him about, prod him with a bayonet when he refused to move and catch him by the collar of his coat and shove him in front of them towards the cages in the back area. He was a colonel, a scion of a noble house, an aristocrat.