We are British soldiers, and proud of the name and proud to belong to the great British Empire, but in doing our duty for the glory and honour of the Empire we have always also in our minds to add, if we can, more lustre to the fair name of Erin. Our flag of green with the harp and shamrock and the words “Erin Go Bragh” is now faded and torn, but still loved and cherished. Talking about that dear old flag, I shall endeavour to describe how, at ----, when the fate of the day seemed to waver in the balance, when the ruthless enemy by sheer weight of numbers was pressing onward at every point of vantage, that faded flag turned a threatened defeat into decisive victory. On our left were the Munsters, on our right the Leinsters and Connaught Rangers. All were hard-pressed and were about to retire, when suddenly from the firing line one of our comrades rushed out flourishing the old green flag and shouting “Erin Go Bragh.” With the blood coursing fast through my veins, I watched with pride and admiration the marvellous effect produced these simple words. With a mighty cheer that seemed to rend the heavens, and that rose and swelled even above the din of battle, those hard-pressed sons of Erin charged down on the advancing enemy with fixed bayonets. The Germans were completely staggered by this unexpected turn of events when victory seemed just within their grasp, but they were given little time for hesitation, for, to slightly alter the words of a well-known Irish ballad: _Like lions leaping at a fold, When mad with hunger’s pang, Right up against the German lines Those Irish heroes sprang._ The Germans turned and fled in all directions, completely routed and wholly disorganized. Such was the effect on the Irish Guards of the sight of their old green flag and the cry of “Erin Go Bragh”: _Corpl. Michael O’Mara, of the Irish Guards_. A Midnight Move