A part of No. 3 Company Sappers and Miners was engaged in the centre section repairing loopholes, etc. Captain E. H. Kelly, R.E., was in command, and finding no officers he took charge of the troops in his vicinity. He was severely wounded by hand-grenades, being hit in the head, shoulders, hand, and leg, but was nevertheless able to reach the support line. The Corps of Royal Engineers never says die. The Leicesters in their counter-attack with the 107th Pioneers lost Captain H. Grant, killed whilst leading his company in the charge, and 2nd Lieut. M. Seton-Browne was also killed at the head of his platoon just as he had reached the enemy trench. No. 8224 Lance-Corporal G. Grey, Sergeant P. Forster, and three men were brought to notice for their fine example. The latter received the D.C.M. Major H. Gordon was in command of this attack and received the D.S.O. Throughout the time the Leicesters served with me in France this splendid Corps shared the brunt of every fight in which their Brigade was engaged. Its sterling grit was recognised by none more than the Indian soldiers. As already described, one company of the Connaught Rangers was fighting next to the 34th Pioneers, whilst six officers and 300 rifles were in support of the 8th Gurkhas in the counter-attack. These latter were met by a heavy cross-fire from machine-guns. Notwithstanding this a part of them reached the objective. Major W. Hamilton, Captain R. G. Eyre, and Lieut. J. Hume, the only officers with one company, were wounded, whilst fifty-five men were killed or missing and fifty-three were wounded, and the detachment had to withdraw. The three officers named above were brought to notice. The 57th Rifles, who held fast to their trenches on our left, did right good work though sharing none of the glory. The C.O. reported during the fighting: “I am trying to improve my trenches, but have no large-sized spades or shovels. A telephone is urgently needed. We want some sandbags—most urgent. Also a lot of bombs. Without these and the sandbags it is difficult sometimes.” Splendid fellow! What a commentary on the state of affairs; little he dreamed his words would be repeated for those to read who know nothing of how the fight was waged in the snow-clad trenches of 1914. Ours were held, as a 57th man said to me after the fight, “with our bare hands; we had nothing else.” Captain Indajit Singh, the medical officer of the battalion, was killed while coolly carrying out his duties behind the firing-line. A brother officer, Major P. Atal, I.M.S., in medical charge of the 129th Baluchis, was also killed with him. Both had gained the respect of their Corps by the fearless discharge of their duty to the wounded.