It is not an uncommon thing for men to get separated from their regiments; it is often the fate of those who are reported missing or lost. At Mons the enemy cut off some of the Somerset Light Infantry, most of whom hid themselves until dark, and then throwing away their rifles managed to crawl between the German pickets. They did not, however, succeed in regaining their regiments, but made their way to the homes of peasants, who supplied them with civilian clothes. They had some narrow escapes from being arrested for German spies, as they could speak no French, but eventually they reached Boulogne, where they obtained a pass to England and were able to rejoin their depôt. The following stories also illustrate the perils attending missing troops and their endeavours to regain the British lines. The first, from a letter of a non-commissioned officer of Dragoons, tells of the adventures of himself and a companion who lost their regiment on the Belgian frontier:— We struck, after a very sharp and dangerous engagement, a tiny village, where the priest was absolutely an angel, and gave us—the four who got there—food, shelter, and clothing, and hid a corporal and myself in an old belfry, and a couple of infantrymen, wounded at Mons, in a secret crypt. Since then much has happened. A veterinary officer and sergeant of Hussars, who had lost their way and could not speak a word of French, happened to hit the next village, and an old hawker managed to induce them by signs to follow him to our lair. “What was he to do?” asked the officer. “Had the Uhlans gone west or east? Should they disguise and risk it, or face the certainty of being made prisoners if caught in uniform?” We settled it by a compromise, which has so far answered, for no Uhlans have appeared to molest us on the road, though we saw on the skyline about thirty trotting in the direction of ————. If they saw us through their field-glasses we should only appear to them as market gardeners or agricultural labourers, taking in a heavy load of potatoes, turnips, and garden produce, and suitably attired. All our kit and arms had been sent on in advance in a donkey-cart, driven by an old woman, and in such a broken-down condition that even a keen-eyed Prussian would not have detected the false bottom we spent a day in making for the purpose of secreting Government property. The old curé roared with laughter at the ingenuity of the veterinary officer who designed the dodge and helped to make it.