I have had the narrowest escape of my life. The horse I was riding got knocked out altogether by a shell, and while I was getting another one to put in its place a shell came and put three of us out of action. I managed to scramble out of it for about two miles, when I dropped unconscious, and the next place I found myself in was a French hospital with enough bandage round my head to make a girl a dress. You ought to see the sight of a battlefield; it is just like the Crystal Palace on a firework day but for the men and horses dropping: _Driver T. Tyler, Royal Field Artillery_. Heavy Fire The second day we were under heavy fire, and we had to retreat; but the next morning we regained the trenches. Then we came under heavy fire again, and it was at this time that I received my wound. “Have you got it, old boy?” said my mate, George Hunter. Only about ten minutes afterwards Hunter himself received in rapid succession five shots in the thigh and groin. He quickly died from hæmorrhage, and lies buried in France. I myself had to lie upon the ground for eleven hours before I was carried to an ambulance wagon: _Pte. Whitehead, Norfolk Regiment_. Dead as a Nail The German had killed several of our fellows before I knocked him over. As they were going through a gate--“piff”--and down they went. We knew by the sound that the rifleman could not be far, and we kept looking out for him, for there were no large bodies of Germans about. At last I saw a flash coming from a tree, and I took two aims at him, and then we saw him swaying to and fro, dead as a nail, but tied with a rope to the tree: _Pte. Jakeman, West Riding Regiment_. Stone Dead We came to a wood that looked as if it had been occupied by the Germans. Sure enough, there was a sentry standing all by himself under the trees with a rifle in his hands. We were in his direct line, so he couldn’t help seeing us, but he made not the slightest sound or sign of being put out. We crept close to have a better squint at him, because there was something uncommon in the look of him, and then we saw what was the matter. The poor chap was stone dead: _Corpl. Miller, Army Service Corps_. Kicked I had the misfortune to get three bullets through my right leg. It feels just like getting a kick from a horse. It’s worse if the bullet strikes a bone, but by a bit of luck all three bullets went clean through my leg. They were from a machine gun, and it happened just after we had cleared the Germans out of a wood in order that we might put up there for the night. I was more fortunate in South Africa, when I was serving in the 5th Mounted Infantry, for then I only received a slight shell wound: _Corporal F. Price_. Killed Instantly