Captain Trigona said that on August 26 the main body of the Allies was in the district of Mons, and in the direction of Cambrai his battalion formed a portion of the rearguard, and were continually being harassed by the enemy. An order, which they should have received to retire, miscarried. This, in his opinion, was due to despatch riders falling into the hands of the enemy. The regiment was left unsupported, and an overwhelming body of the enemy attacking them, they were obliged to retreat. The Germans moved forward in dark, thick masses, and the British rifle did terrible havoc among their closely-packed ranks. The enemy’s ranks in places were blotted out by the withering leaden blast which the Fusiliers kept up with that dogged determination which has won for the regiment in past wars many golden laurels. The German loss was much greater than ours. This is accounted for by the close formation adopted by the latter. At one time the regiment had fallen back on a large farmhouse, but a number of shells from the German artillery quickly reduced the building to a heap of _débris_, and they were forced to evacuate the farm. During the succeeding night Captain Trigona and a small body of men got separated from the other portion of the troops. When daylight broke they found themselves wandering in a country swarming with the enemy’s cavalry. They were completely cut off from the Allies’ forces, but succeeded in reaching a French village without being molested by the Germans. They were received with every kindness by the villagers. Food was supplied to the well-nigh famished men, and welcome rest was obtained in barns and farmhouses. After eight days’ travelling by night and hiding by day they reached Boulogne. Another officer, in the Irish Guards, wrote a vivid account of the Titanic struggle in the neighbourhood of Cambrai:— We had a very bad night on Tuesday, August 25, he said, when our billets were attacked by the Germans, and a situation arose which at one time looked very serious for our brigade. However, we held our own, and simply mowed the Germans down. The doctors counted over 2,000 of their dead outside the town next morning when they were collecting our wounded. I must say now none of us expected to get away. I, with about thirty men, was given a house to defend which commanded two main streets, and we worked away at it from about 10 p.m. until about 1.30 a.m., when we were called out to join the battalion who were going out to attack the Germans with the bayonet. But when we got to the other side of the town we found they had had enough of it, and gone.