I was able to secure most excellent billets for the mess in the house of Monsieur and Madame Angillis. These good people were in a state of considerable fear, for, not only had they two sons fighting in the Belgian army, one of whom had been wounded, but as the owners of considerable property in the city and the neighbourhood, they were anxious as to what the future would bring. Their worst fears have been realized, and I am afraid they are among the great mass of sufferers in unhappy Belgium. Their daughter was rendering splendid service in the Belgian Red Cross, and proved a great help in directing me to wounded British soldiers, who might otherwise have been lost sight of. By this time fighting was in full swing, and our men had thrown up the first line of trenches in semi-circular form, some six or seven miles to the east of the town. Very soon the wounded and German prisoners made their appearance, and doctors and chaplains were busily engaged. Most of the prisoners had a very scared look, for we learned afterwards that they had been told that we cut our prisoners' throats, or shot them out of hand, and their joy was great at finding even their personal belongings restored to them. I was much struck with the characteristic behaviour of 'Tommy Atkins' to these men; even to the extent of sharing his rations with them, and handing out his 'fags,' which was an act of real self-denial. I owe my grateful thanks to one Uhlan, whose saddle fell to my lot, and which I henceforth used, and regarded as one of the most comfortable I have ever ridden on. A singularly unfortunate case came under my notice among the first batch of wounded brought in. An officer of the 'Borders' in the dead of night, hearing as he thought a German advance, left his trench to reconnoitre, and after a fruitless search was returning to his men in the thick early morning mist, when a sentinel, ignorant of his having gone out, shot him as he approached the trenches. The poor chap was badly hit in the lungs, and made a brave struggle for life, but alas! died a few hours afterwards. The Divisional Head-quarters being established at Ypres, my unit moved out to its Brigade, which occupied the line of trenches in the neighbourhood of Zandvoorde. Arriving at our position in the dusk of a quickly parting day, we found ourselves actually posted in front of the firing line. Disagreeable as the experience was, there was nothing for it but to stick it. In a wood close by, the enemy had machine guns, supported by a body of Uhlans. Disturbing sniping took place at intervals through the night, which rendered the bivouac unpleasant in the extreme. We slept on the ground between the wagons; and under the circumstances I felt it wise to keep as low down as possible, as 'fire' is in no sense discriminating.