The Germans are getting up to all the tricks of the trade so far as making themselves secure against infantry or shell fire is concerned. At first they didn’t seem to mind what happened, and were always on the move just to walk over us, but when they found that it took two to make a bargain in the walking-over line they began to get more cautious, and now they get into holes in the ground that would make you think you had gone out rabbit-hunting if it weren’t for the size of the game when you catch them. Their trenches are mighty deep, and you can’t always say rightly what’s in them. There was a chap of the Warwicks who went peeping into one of these holes the other day, and before he knew what to think he found himself looking down the muzzle of a German rifle. He got out of the way with only a little nick in the arm, but he might have lost his life. They had the dickens of a job to ferret that German out of his place, but they did get him out, though it was only to put him in again, as he wouldn’t surrender, and his pit came in handy for a grave: _Gunner Hughes, of the Royal Field Artillery_. XIII. GALLANT DEEDS _And gentlemen in England, now a-bed, Shall think themselves accursed they were not here; And hold their manhoods cheap, whiles any speaks That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s Day._ SHAKESPEARE’S “Henry V.” _They went with songs to the battle, they were young, Straight of limb, true of eye, steady and aglow, They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted; They fell with their faces to the foe._ LAURENCE BINYON’S “For the Fallen.” When we got the order to retire I found that both my boots were full of blood. When I took them off I found that my feet had swollen and there were two big holes in my heels: _Private E. Young_. A Hand-shake! The officer said, “Baker, our time has come. Be brave, and die like a man. Good-bye.” He shook hands with me. I shall always remember the minutes that followed: _A Mechanic of the English Flying Corps_. Unhurt! I saw one of the Bays, a lance-corporal, run towards the enemy with a machine gun on his shoulders. He fired several rounds at them, and escaped without a scratch. He was promoted to the rank of sergeant for that: _Pte. Fill, 5th Dragoon Guards_. What the Irish Did I saw a handful of Irishmen throw themselves in front of a regiment of cavalry trying to cut off a battery of Horse Artillery. Not one of the poor lads got away alive, but they made the German devils pay in kind, and anyhow the artillery got away: _Private A. McGillivray_. “A Regular Devil” There was a man of the Buffs who carried a wounded chum for over a mile under German fire, but if you mentioned recommending that chap for the Cross he’d punch your head, and as he’s a regular devil the men of his regiment say as little as they can about it: _A Driver of the Royal Field Artillery_.