With Tom Caisley on one side and Joe Fair on the other I was hopping along, with the shells bursting all around us. My strength was going, when I turned to Tom and said, “I’m beat, Tom,” but he answered, “Stick it, son.” I shall never forget his words, and I did “stick it,” till he saw two fellows with a stretcher and called them over. I was put on the stretcher and shook hands with Tom and Joe, wishing them good-bye. Then they went back to the firing line, and I was taken to a cave, where I had my leg dressed; the bullet had gone right through the thigh. I had only been in this place about half an hour when a chap called Nicholson was brought in wounded, and I asked him if Tom and Joe were all right. He gave me a shock when he said Joe Fair had been killed while assisting him. I must confess that I cried, for Joe had been chums with Tom and me for years: _Private Thomas Elliott_. A Dash for It I met a man belonging to C Company of the Gordons who was bleeding very much. He shouted to me, “For God’s sake take me out of action.” I put him on a stretcher with the help of another bearer. We lifted him up, and just then a shell broke a tree in half close by. The trunk fell right across the man’s head, killing him at once. It was getting dusk and we could not find out where our company was, as they had retired fighting. I walked about the woods very quietly at night with three others and then heard some English voices. We looked ahead and saw a battery of artillery in a lane in front of us. They said they were ambushed between two lines of fire, and shouted, “Come, get a gun, and take pot luck with us.” We started, although twenty-four of the first team’s horses were shot, the middle driver was dead, and the one on the second leading horse was wounded in the head. We all decided to make a dash for it in the morning. We did so over dead horses and men and found our regiment at 3 A.M. In the meantime we had got some corn from the fields, but for three days we had nothing to eat and drink but apples, dirty water, and red wine: _Bandsman T. Winstanley_. A Cave Disaster