The officer mentions a curious circumstance which throws more light on that most interesting subject--the state of the mind in battle. He says the din must have been deafening--he learned afterwards that it could be heard miles away--and yet he had a confused remembrance only of anything in the way of noise. How Guinchy was reached and what it was like is thus described: "How long we were in crossing No Man's Land I don't know. It could not have been more than five minutes, yet it seemed much longer. We were now well up to the Boche. We had to clamber over all manner of obstacles--fallen trees, beams, great mounds of brick and rubble--in fact, over the ruins of Guinchy. It seems like a nightmare to me now. I remember seeing comrades falling round me. My sense of hearing returned to me, for I became conscious of a new sound--namely, the pop, pop, pop, pop of machine-guns, and the continuous crackling of rifle fire. By this time all units were mixed up, but they were all Irishmen. They were cheering and cheering like mad. There was a machine-gun playing on us near by, and we all made for it." Through the centre of the smashed and battered village ran a deep trench. It was occupied by about two hundred Germans, who continued to fire rifle and machine-gun even after the Irish had appeared on all sides, scrambling over the piles of masonry, bent and twisted wood and metal and broken furniture. "At this moment we caught our first sight of the Huns," the officer continues. "They were in a trench of sorts, which ran in and out among the ruins. Some of them had their hands up. Others were kneeling and holding their arms out to us. Still others were running up and down the trench, distracted, as if they didn't know which way to go, but as we got closer they went down on their knees, too." In battle the Irish are fierce and terrible to the enemy, and in victory most magnanimous. "To the everlasting good name of the Irish soldiery," the officer says, "not one of these Huns, some of whom had been engaged in slaughtering our men up to the very last moment, was killed. I did not see a single instance of a prisoner being shot or bayoneted. When you remember that our men were worked up to a frenzy of excitement, this crowning act of mercy to their foes is surely to their eternal credit. They could feel pity even in their rage." He adds: "It is with a sense of pride that I can write this of our soldiers."