For few perhaps in the British Forces in France has the 3rd September 1915 any special significance, but for me, without any kind of immediate warning, it was the last day of soldiering. For thirty-seven years the thought of suddenly ending my career had never entered my head, and I still hoped that if my Corps could be transferred to Egypt, Mesopotamia, or anywhere from France, I should have the satisfaction of seeing the war through. If we remained on in France, I knew it was only a matter of time when I should be forced myself to ask for a move. However, we were on the eve of the great attack at Loos; the Indian Corps was in as good fettle as was then possible; every kind of preparation was in process of completion for the attack; and as far as I was concerned there was no immediate reason for any foreboding of evil. We had just received some excellent drafts from India and everything seemed to be going well. But it is the unexpected that often happens in war, and in justice to myself and the Indians then in France, I say plainly that at a time of comparatively profound calm on the battle front, I was for very good reasons obliged to suggest to the G.O.C. First Army that as my services apparently no longer met with his approval I considered it best for the Army that I might be relieved of my command. The war is over, I am only one humble individual, my staying or leaving could have no bearing on events, but justice is a thing we expect in our Army. On the 2nd September 1915, with my old and valued friend, Colonel Sir Frederick Lugard, Governor-General of Nigeria, who was home on leave and paying a short visit to France, I went round almost the whole of our front trenches. It was a murky day and nothing beyond the usual shelling and firing was happening, but the Indians were glad to see me, as usual. One section was held by Pathans, and some of them were singing to a _sitar_ (guitar). My knowledge of Pashtu is limited, but I had years ago learned their favourite song, “Zakhmi Dil” (The Wounded Heart), so I joined in and gave them a verse. Men from other parts of the trenches came running over, and presently to dance and music we were having an improvised concert. I did not know it was to be my last with my brave comrades of many campaigns. After a long day’s tramp, and having personally inspected the various new trench positions for guns which were to be brought up to the very front, etc., we got home late, and for some reason I was in particularly good spirits. Loos was about to be fought, and the Indian Corps had been detailed to make a subsidiary attack from near Mauquissart and we had been preparing everything for many days.