I was on patrol duty the other day. I can’t tell you the name of the place, but there was a chum of mine, an officer, and myself. We met five German Uhlans going down the road. They were in front of us, so we got on the grass on the side of the road and galloped right on top of them. They saw us when we were about eight yards away. They tried to get away from us, but we were into them. Our officer got the first one with his sword, and as the German fell out of the saddle the officer’s horse fell over him. That left me and my mate for the other four. Even then they would not face us. All the better for us. I got the next fellow. I put my sword right through him, and my mate did the same with another. Then we went after the other two. Both of us got up to one of them at the same time, and he got both swords through him. He did try to defend himself, for he got me on the lip with his lance and knocked two of my teeth out and took a piece out of my lip. It was not much, but he will never take any more pieces out, for he got both our swords into him. While we were trying to draw our swords out the last of the Uhlans got off his horse and tried to escape in the woods. I fell off my horse in my haste trying to get up to shoot him. All the same I shot him through the head, and he was as dead as a door-nail when I got up to him: _Private M. Ferguson_. Connaught Rangers The dear old Rangers have had their fair share of the fighting. Still, they’re ready for as much more as the Germans want, and it won’t be our fault if every man of ours that has gone to face his Maker with an unshriven soul hasn’t at least a dozen German trash to keep him company. There’s a lot of talk about the disloyalty of the Irish people, but, sure, when it comes to the bit, and England needs soldiers to fight for her, she knows she can rely on the Irishmen. There’s not a man in the Rangers would let any German trample on the Union Jack, no matter what his views about Home Rule and the need for making England recognize our right to nationality. The Rangers have lived up to their character as fine fighters, and they have been in some very hard scraps, you may be sure. One day we were sent to help a battery of our artillery that had got into difficulties, and was like to be carried off by the Germans. There was little time to spare, as the Germans were pressing hard on both flanks, and there was fear we might be cut off if we didn’t get on the move. We rushed at them with the bayonet at the double, and swept them away like the dust goes before the wind. It was hard fighting, and many of us got hit, but our charge made it easy for the guns to be got away in safety: _Private P. O’Hanlon_. The Best of It