At this moment, my platoon Chief sent me to ask the Captain for some information. I crawled away, but on my return I found my Chief wounded. I wanted to take him away, but the Captain insisted on my returning to the trench. Our cannons were being directed on to a wood from which the enemy was coming. The battle was engaged and we were all possessed with the fever of war and were shooting from everywhere. Dixmude was buried under showers of shells and shrapnels. The Germans appeared rapidly on all sides. We were threatened on our left and, under the intense and murderous fire, the Company which had joined us had all its officers either killed or wounded. The position was impossible to hold. The men still left evacuated the trenches and went about two hundred yards farther back. In spite of his energy, the Major was thinking of falling back, when a Company of the 11th arrived, accompanied by Marine Fusiliers. These brave men marched forward and reoccupied the lost trenches. Many of my comrades had been struck down. I took one of them away who had been dazed by the explosion of a shell in his trench. I then came back, crouching in the ditches to avoid the balls. The shells were falling on every side. We did not trouble any more about them, as it was just luck whether we were hit or not. I wondered whether Job were still living. I did not know and I could not see him anywhere. It was getting dark. We were now in the park, scattered about as sharp-shooters behind a hedge. In front of us were the trenches occupied by our men, reinforced by the Fusiliers. Balls were whizzing about everywhere. Lying down sideways, I hollowed out the earth with my shovel and made a slight parapet. The firing became more and more intense. The Boches were beginning a fresh assault and we could hear them distinctly shouting "Hoch! Lebe der Kaiser!" It was a sight never to be forgotten. In the trenches, and in the park, a strange-looking swarm of men. By the light of the flashes from the firing, we could see dark figures gliding about, running to the right, to the left, or forward. The Belgians and the French were all mingling and making frantic efforts. The Artillery ceased, and then the guns and machine-guns continued alone. What a diabolical concert it was! It seemed as though hell itself had been let loose. With their fruitless assaults, the Boches made an infernal uproar. They yelled like savages, their clarions rang out, and they were beating their drums. The cannon began again, and the machine-guns told their beads, whilst the rifles discharged murderous volleys. In the midst of the darkness we could hear shouts, calls, orders, exclamations of all kinds. Certain French soldiers, in spite of the danger, when the Boches ran away, seized all kinds of utensils and banged the metal together, making an indescribable din. It was tragically comic, for in the very fiercest of the fight they were joking.