On November 14 they were ordered to return to 4th Brigade Headquarters and take over trenches near Klein Zillebeke from the S. W. Borderers who had relieved them there on the 9th. “The day passed much as usual,” it was observed, but “the shelling was fairly heavy and the enemy gained some ground.” Lieutenant and Quartermaster Hickie returned from a sick leave of two months. The Sussex Battalion relieved the Battalion in their dug-outs on the edge of the Veldhoek woods at 11 P. M.; the Battalion then moved off and by half-past three on the morning of the 15th had relieved the South Wales Borderers in their old trenches. Here they received word of the death of their Colonel, Field-Marshal Lord Roberts, from pneumonia while on a visit to the Indian troops at the front. C.S.M. Rogers and Pte. Murphy were selected as representatives of the Battalion to attend the funeral service at St. Omer. The Battalion spent the day under constant shell-fire in improving trenches, “but there was some difficulty as snipers were busy, as they had been all day.” One officer wrote: “Our men are very tired and the rifles are in an awful state. It rains continuously, and it is very hard to get any sort of rifle-oil.” The 16th November, a day of snow and heavy firing, ending in an attack which was suppressed by rapid fire, was grimly enlivened by the appearance of one German deserter with two fingers shot off who announced that he “had had enough of fighting.” On the 17th November, Brigade Headquarters were blown in by shell-fire, both of the Irish Guards orderlies on duty were injured, and both of the Battalion’s “two new machine-guns” were knocked to pieces. There was five hours’ heavy shelling from 7 A. M. till noon when the enemy came out of their trenches to attack in force, and were dealt with for an hour by the Battalion, the Grenadiers on its left and the cavalry on its right. It was estimated that--thanks to efficient fire control and good discipline--twelve hundred killed and wounded were accounted for in front of our trenches. Our only man killed in this attack was C.S.M. Munns who had been just recommended for his commission. He was a born leader of men, always cheerful, and with what seemed like a genuine love for fighting. A second attack, not pressed home, followed at three o’clock; another out-break of small-arm fire at half-past nine and yet another towards midnight, and a heavy shelling of the French on our right. “Then all was quiet,” says the easily satisfied record.