"Our men," he said, "have come to believe that every one of you carries a portable Maxim with him." * * * * * It must have been about 2.30 in the afternoon that Binche had to be abandoned. But it was before this that the German infantry attacks began all along the line. For nearly two hours our men had somehow or other been weathering the storm of shrapnel, and we have seen that they had by now settled down under it. Let us get back to the Second Corps and see what is happening. You have got some idea of the look of the country in front of our positions, all broken up, uneven ground, little woods here and there. Out on the left flank there are county regiments, men of Dorset, Norfolk, Suffolk, Cheshire, Surrey. They know something about "ground" work, and they have learned a deal more with their regiments. One end of the Yorks L.I. trench ends in a little stone-walled pigsty. At least it was a pigsty about church time that morning, but a German gunner thought it would look better without any roof or walls. There is still a fragment three feet high on the weather side, and the Yorks C.O. finds it a convenient shelter for the time being. He is not attending church-parade that day, so it doesn't matter about lying full length in the filth on the ground. The last remaining company colour-sergeant is with him--also embedded in the manure. They are both nibbling chocolate. Tobacco would be particularly useful just now, but they have both run out of it. For some minutes the C.O. has been intently watching through his glasses the corner of a wood about 500 yards in front. He hands the binoculars to the sergeant. "What do you make of it? That corner over the little shed." The sergeant has a look. He returns the glasses and slowly nods. "It might be a brigade, sir, from the number of them." "Yes," says the C.O., "I thought it was about time. Get word along that there is to be no firing till the order's given." "Very good, sir!" And the sergeant scrambles to his feet, salutes, ducks hastily as a shell seems to whistle past unnecessarily close, and dives into the rabbit-burrow in which his men are squatting. The C.O. returns to his glasses. The C.O. of a British battery, in position some distance to the rear, has evidently also spotted that particular target, for puffs of bursting shrapnel have begun to appear over the wood and round the edges. Now there is a distinct movement of troops emerging from behind the wood. It is a movement only which can be seen, for the men themselves can scarcely be distinguished against the grey-green country-side. At the very same moment it seems as though all the guns in the world have been turned on to those few miles of British front, and to the batteries behind. The British gun-fire wavers for a minute or so; but soon it picks up again though, alas! not so strongly as before.