On gaining the end of the trench, I was, with three others, sent into the communication trench to clear out the dead. A London Scottish Officer--they had only been out, or rather in action a week--came up with his men to relieve us, and remarked to our Captain, who was the C.O., that he did not mind seeing dead Germans but he did object to walking upon them; so we had the job of clearing them out, which we did in this way: two men stayed in the trench and two stood on the top of it, the two in the trench each lifting a leg of the dead man up to the two men on top, who then hauled him over. We had been at work for about an hour at this interesting job, when who should walk along the top under cover of a hedge but a German right up to where we were working! He was fully equipped, but we had discarded our equipment, on account of it hindering us at our task. On reaching us, I exclaimed to my pal, who was bending over in the trench: "Look, chummy, here's a German!" The two men on top having just gone further up had not seen him. On hearing me speak, the German made a motion with his hands and said, "Hush!" I was never more surprised in all my life--he evidently took us for Germans, too. I then said to my pal: "Find us a rifle": there were plenty at the bottom of the trench. He handed me one up, and, pointing it at the German, I was foolish enough to say: "Hands up!" He again said: "Hush!" I said to my pal: "Hand me up some ammunition, quick." He handed me up five rounds, and, pulling one out of the clip, I placed it in the breech of my rifle. When the German heard the bolt of the rifle go home, he turned round and bolted off--but he was too late: I had him right through the back. We thought it best, then, to return to the company; and we did so.