Writing as I am for the first time of a battle when I was not in command of my Corps, I am tempted to describe from reports the gallantry of units and individuals well known to me, but I will refrain, and refer the reader to that interesting book, _The Indian Corps in France_, wherein he will find recorded the deeds of officers and men who on this day, although unsuccessful in completing the impossible task assigned to them, added brilliant pages to their regimental records. The names of such officers as Colonel Brakspear, Lieutenants Bagot-Chester, Tyson, and Wood, of the 2/3rd Gurkhas, form a roll of honour not to be forgotten, and greatest of all in that fine battalion stands out Rifleman Kulbir Thapa, who on this day added the fifth and last Victoria Cross won in France by the men from Hindustan. Palmam qui meruit ferat. And what of the 8th Gurkhas who had begun the war on that bleak 30th day of October 1914 before Festubert? The old battalion had practically disappeared, but although no longer the Corps that had suffered so terribly in those early days, it was determined to leave its mark deep cut on the soil of Flanders. Colonel Morris, the C.O., already severely wounded nearly a year previously, paid with his life. Add to his the names of Lieutenant Ryall of his own battalion and of the following attached officers: Lieutenants Taylor (1st Brahmins), Inglis, and Meldrum, of the Indian Army Reserve of officers, all of whom were killed, as well as four others wounded and eight Indian officers and 460 rank and file killed, wounded, and missing, and one may well pronounce that the 8th Gurkhas indeed did their duty and found their Valhalla. I had left France; I knew of the “mentions in despatches,” but I searched in vain for any rewards given to the British officers of this and many other Indian battalions who fought round Mauquissart on that day. The 2nd Leicesters, as they had ever done, fought with the stubborn pride of race they had so often displayed; no need to say more. Over seventy were killed, including Captain Romilly, of whom I told at Neuve Chapelle, and Lieutenant Browne. Here, too, fell a good soldier, of that brave but merciful band the Royal Army Medical Corps, Captain Deane, attached for duty. He had already earned the Military Cross, and died as he had lived, “going about doing good.” I hope I shall not be accused of aiding our next enemy when I give them my advice, viz. “Keep out of the way of the Leicesters.”