Our immediate Chiefs were Colonel Jacques, commanding the 12th Regiment, and Colonel Meiser, commanding the Brigade. I have mentioned the names of these courageous officers, as it will be understood that, led by such men, the troops had confidence and it was certain that the soldiers would all do their duty. We were absolutely responsible for the defence of the Yser. The King had appealed to us, asking us to hold this line for the next forty-eight hours, although it was probable that the Germans would do their utmost to pierce it. We had all given our word to die rather than to yield this last shred of our territory. On the 19th of October, which was a bright, sunshiny day, the Regiment was assembled at Oudecapelle. We were fully aware that serious things were taking place, but the Colonel, with a smile, announced a great victory. We strapped up our kits gaily and set off, thinking of our return to reconquered Liege. We gradually approached our poor, unfortunate Dixmude. When we entered the town, we were surrounded by an anxious, but sympathetic population. Very many refugees were already on the way towards more favoured countries. These poor people, flying from the invaded towns and villages, had been wandering aimlessly day and night, in search of a safe and hospitable district. On seeing them, I was seized with fury against our relentless enemy, and I thought of my own family and of all those I loved, whom I should, perhaps, never see again. We passed through the town and took up our position in the trenches, which had been quickly prepared in front of the bridge-head. There was no doubt but that we were going to fight again. And what a fight it would be! The fate of the Allies depended on our resisting to the uttermost. If the enemy crossed, we were conquered. With the most determined resolution, we began to improve our position. The Marine Fusiliers had only done the rough part of digging out the trenches. There was no accessory defence whatever, no wire, and nothing demolished, so that our defence would be infinitely more difficult. Beside this, certain trenches had been established against the coverts. The first thing to do was to complete the trenches and to clear the firing range within the near zone. We set to work energetically. It was three o'clock in the afternoon. My friend Job was at work fortifying the parapet of our shelter, and I was a little ahead of him clearing away whatever obstructed the outlook. Suddenly, I heard a whizzing sound and a shell destroyed the trench. Several more followed and I was knocked down. I got up again and ran to shelter. The shells showered down, and all kinds of _debris_ were blown up in the air. I looked round for Job and, just at this moment, a projectile fell straight on to his parapet, which crumbled away, burying him under it. This was a terrible moment of anxiety, but he managed to extricate himself and, with a very red face, escaped to another trench. The bombardment