Word was sent to the Division one day by the British troops holding our trenches on Hill 70, that some bodies of our men were lying unburied in No Man's Land. One of our battalions was ordered to provide a burial party and I decided to accompany them. I was to meet the men at a certain place near Loos on the Lens-Arras road in the evening, and go with them. The burial officer turned up on time, but the party did not. At last the men arrived and we went through the well-known trenches till we came to the front line. Here I had to go down and see some officers of the British battalions, and try to find out where the bodies were. Apparently the officers could give us little information, so we decided to divide up into small parties and go into No Man's Land and search for the dead ourselves. As we were in sight of the enemy, we could not use our electric torches, and (p. 208) only by the assistance of German flare-lights were we able to pick our steps over the broken ground. We found a few bodies which had not been buried, but it was impossible to do more than cover them with earth, for the position was an exposed one. We did the best we could under the circumstances, and were glad to find that the number of unburied had been greatly exaggerated. On another occasion I took a burial party out one night, and found that the officers and men sent were a new draft that had never been in the line before. They were much interested in the novel and somewhat hazardous nature of the expedition. On this occasion when we returned to Bully-Grenay, the morning sun was shining brightly overhead, and it began to get quite warm. The men were very tired with their night's work, and when we halted they lay down on the pavement by the road and went to sleep. One poor fellow actually collapsed, and we had to send off to a dressing station for a stretcher on which he was taken away for medical treatment. A burial party, from the nature of the case, was not a pleasant expedition, and Canada ought to be grateful for the way in which our Corps burial officers and the men under them carried out their gruesome and often dangerous duty. One of our burial officers, a fine young fellow, told me how much he disliked the work. He said, "There is no glory in it, and people think that we have an easy time, but two of my predecessors have been killed and I expect to get knocked out myself some day." A year later he was killed near Cambrai, after he had faithfully done his duty in caring for the bodies of the slain.