Lieut. Pottinger did one of the pluckiest things that have been done in the war. He and his section were blowing up a bridge under fire. They laid the charge, and the section retired, Lieut. Pottinger and a sapper remaining behind to light the fuse. This they did, but apparently something went wrong with the detonator, and the charge did not explode. The sapper then fired ten rounds with his rifle at the charge without success. Lieut. Pottinger then said, “I’ll make the d---- thing go off,” shook hands with the sapper, and went to the bridge. There he put the muzzle of his revolver to the charge and fired all six cartridges. The charge still did not explode, and they had to leave the bridge still standing, as they were driven back by the Germans. If that charge had gone off the lieutenant would have disappeared, and he knew it as well as I do: _A Royal Engineer_. “Scotland for Ever!” The Scots Greys galloped forward with us hanging on to their stirrups, and it was a sight never to be forgotten. We were simply being dragged by the horses as they flew forward through a perfect cloud of bullets from the enemy’s Maxims. Saddles were being emptied quickly as we closed on the German lines, and tore past their Maxims, which were in the front ranks. We were on the German gunners before they knew where they were, and many of them went down in their gore, scarcely realizing that we were amongst them. Then the fray commenced in deadly earnest. The Black Watch and the Scots Greys went into it like men possessed. They fought like demons. It was our bayonets against the Germans’ swords. The German swords were no use against us. They went down in hundreds, and still the deadly work of the bayonet continued. The enemy began to waver as the carnage amongst them increased, and they soon broke and fled like rabbits: _Pte. W. Morton, 1st Batt. Black Watch_. Succouring the Wounded Three of my comrades were sent out on patrol, when they were fired on by the Germans. One got back to the trenches, though I was told two had returned. One I saw was wounded, and I volunteered to save him. I went out and was heavily fired at, but I made up my mind to get him--and you know I very seldom change that. Well, I persevered and got to one who was past human aid. I had missed the wounded one, who was lying nearer the trenches. I came back to the trench and reported the one dead. I then went out again to the wounded man and, with the help of Corporal Brown, brought him safely back: _Pte. Dobson, Coldstream Guards_. Up the Hill