Presently orders came through that the attack preceded by heavy barrage on one or two selected places--a sugar factory on the Bapaume-Cambrai Road being one--would be resumed at 2.15. Everything up the line was as good as we could hope for, and the 188th Brigade was getting ready to carry on. They were to go through us, and on to Anneux and as much further as they could get. We then returned to Brigade H.Q. where we found Prentice and his transport--all safe and sound, and rather surprised to be so near the battle. Thoughts of hot food for the men seemed to be within the range of possibility provided the resumed attack went off all right. I saw the Brigadier again, told him that we were all ready for our original third objective, but he said we need not move at all, as the 188th were going through us, where we were, to their objective. The rest had been cut out and was being dealt with by the Artillery alone, so I went back post-haste, but was not in time to stop many men getting on, especially those at the front, who had numerous scores to pay off by this time. The 2.15 show was a complete success, so much so, that the 188th were able to move right up to Anneux without any trouble: then they bumped into plenty, I believe, but that is outside the story of the Artists. Shortly afterwards the Divisional General came round our line, thanking the men for the splendid victory, and still more for the magnificent resistance they had made when checked. I had been told beforehand that if we got the crest of the hill--which was our first objective--and stuck to it, we should have won the day whatever happened. As it was we got beyond and held on, against Machine-Gun fire, Trench Mortars, and Bombing, for hours, until the whole situation cleared all along the line; a hard enough test for any troops and an achievement in itself that would have made any Battalion’s reputation. Late in the evening we got orders to spend the night on our battle positions. Besch and I took a look round the places where we had been held up earlier in the day and in every case there was no lack of evidence of the supreme courage of our men. Before settling down we buried all our dead: there seemed to us to be a lot, but in comparison to the total casualties of the day, and in relation to the value of the work accomplished, there were really few. So ended one of the greatest days in this War and my first experience of the Artists in action. I, for one, shall never forget the 27th September, 1918, and I can only pray to be forgiven if I in any way failed them during that day, or subsequently: they never failed me once.[14]