Time went on. The horses got very restless, and a stampede was feared. Had that happened all would have been lost. But it did not happen, and at last day broke. No attack had been delivered, and it was clear that the enemy had gone to the right or left of the village, pressing onward in the belief that the British convoy was ahead. Yet another exciting incident, which shows the kind of adventures the Army Service Corps takes as being all part of its day’s work. A convoy had been drawn up some way from the firing line, and in the early morning rations were just about to be issued to a brigade of artillery who were going into action at 3 A.M., when the word went forth that the convoy was being quietly surrounded by a troop of German cavalry. At once it was arranged that if it could not be got away it must be burnt. But before doing that the officers resolved to make a push for it. Lorries and horses started off at top speed till they got to a railway bridge. There all the transport, with the exception of thirty motor lorries, passed over in safety. Another determined effort was made, and out of the thirty, twenty-eight got over safely. Then the bridge was blown up. A moment later the remaining two lorries were in the hands of the Germans, together with two officers and eight men, who were, we may suppose, taken prisoners. A wonderful stand was also made by our retreating troops at Tournai, when 700 British soldiers resisted 5000 Uhlans. They stood their ground to a man, till of the 700 less than half remained. Even then there was no panic. Calmly, harassing their pursuers with a murderous fire, “all that was left of them” retreated with the wounded, their convoy intact. As for the guns, though some were lost, many more were put out of action. The enemy showed reckless bravery, hurling themselves on to the very muzzles of the British field guns. A soldier always admires a brave man, no matter what his uniform is. Here is a fine tribute paid by a wounded British artilleryman to the enemy: “The grandest thing I saw out there was the fight of a handful of good fighting men in German uniforms. These chaps were the last of a regiment to cross a stream under fiendish rifle and artillery fire. “They were hotly pursued by French cavalry and infantry, and when they saw that it was all up the remnant made for a little hill and gathered round the regimental flag to fight to the last. The French closed round them, and called on them to surrender, but not they! They stood there back to back until the last man went down with the flag in his grasp and a dozen bullet wounds in his body. “Then the flag was captured by the French, but there was no shouting over the victory, and every soldier who passed that way and knew the story of those brave chaps bared his head to the memory of brave men.”