A German fell and I moved towards him, but a brief order: "Vorwaerts!" and the threat of a pistol stopped me. The unfortunate man, holding out his hand and imploring help, was left to his fate, without a word of encouragement or of consolation. Decidedly that Major was a brute. We were just passing by Major Hellebaut's Belgian Battery and we should certainly have been greeted with firing, if it had not been for Lieutenant de Wilde, who discovered, just in time, that there were Allies' uniforms in the enemy group. The situation was most critical, as our warders were more and more occupied with replying to the firing of our men. This was our moment of neck or nothing. My stretcher-bearer and the French sailor whom I had led into the fray followed my lead. I moved along gradually, more and more slowly, until I reached the rear and then sank down in a trench that was not very deep. Nothing happened, as no one had noticed our disappearance. We got away by crawling along and then with a few bounds we were soon out of reach. We were saved! * * * * * This account is completed by the soldier Leon Deliens. "Just at this moment," said the latter, "a German officer shouted: 'What must we do with the prisoners?'" "Shoot them dead!" replied another. A shot was fired at Commander Jeanniot, who was not hit. It was a terrible moment. Our warders hurried us along and pushed us about. They had lost their heads and, after taking a roundabout way, they were going towards Dixmude. Suddenly an energetic firing began and the German ranks suffered severely. The Major assembled his men and someone, I cannot say whether he or a Lieutenant, gave the order: "Shoot the prisoners dead!" Each soldier chose a prisoner. Their bayonets pierced the defenceless breasts of their victims and shots were fired point-blank.