About three in the afternoon, just as our artillery had got up ready to cover us, the Germans found our range with artillery, and down came the “coal-boxes.” Near me was lying our brave captain mortally wounded, and as the shells burst he would occasionally open his eyes and call out--but ’twas very weak--“Stick it, Welsh, stick it.” Many of the wounded managed to crawl up and down the firing line “dishing out” ammunition we were unable to use, so our brave lads stuck at it until our artillery got into action and put “paid” to the enemy’s account. We had won! The “contemptible little army,” are we? We made them eat their words. Out in that field were strewn thousands of German dead and wounded. They even piled them up and made barricades of their dead. Toward dusk, though we were still exposed to terrible shell fire, several of our lads volunteered to collect the wounded. Many got hit in doing so. Captain Haggard died that evening, his last words being, “Stick it, Welsh!” He died as he had lived--an officer and a gentleman: _Pte. C. Derry, Welsh Regiment_. The Spirit of Old There is absolutely no doubt that our men are still animated by the spirit of old. I came on a couple of men of the Argyll and Sutherland Highlanders who had been cut off at Mons. One was badly wounded, but his companion had stuck by him all the time in a country swarming with Germans, and though they had only a few biscuits between them they managed to pull through until we picked them up. I pressed the unwounded man to tell me how they managed to get through the four days on six biscuits, but he always got angry and told me to shut up. I fancy he went without anything, and gave the biscuits to the wounded man. They were offered shelter many times by the French peasants, but they were so afraid of bringing trouble on these kind folk that they would never accept shelter. One night they lay out in the open all through a heavy downpour, though there was a house at hand where they could have had shelter. Uhlans were on the prowl, and they would not think of compromising the French people, who would have been glad to help them: _Lance-Corpl. Edmondson, Royal Irish Regiment_. “Hallelujah!”