The commander of the regiment, Colonel Jacquet, went quickly from rank to rank of the soldiers, stimulating their enthusiasm and telling them how proud he was to be marching at their head. As he wished to add example to precept, he went straight to the vanguard and advanced cautiously along, for the ground was hilly and it was quite possible that enemy patrols might have penetrated there. Sart-Tilman is the key of a wooded table-land, the entrance to which was crowned by a series of redoubts and hastily prepared trenches, but the firing range was not sufficiently cleared. It was nearly midnight when we passed through the hamlet. The Major of the 1st Battalion placed three companies between the redoubts, facing the St. Jean and Sclessin woods and kept one company back as a reserve. The noise from this side was deafening. Everything seemed to be rumbling together, guns, machine-guns, and cannons, and, in the midst of the darkness, the bursting of the shrapnels illuminated the sky with their blood-red lights. To the right and left, the Boncelles and Embourg Forts seemed to be wrapped round with a girdle of flames. From time to time, we could hear, in the still night, the doleful sound of the fifes sounding the rally and the march forward. It was a grand and thrilling sight. It was war in all its tragic beauty. The deployment of the Chasseurs was carried out just as though it had been on the drilling ground. They climbed the slopes in files. Here and there, lay the dead body of a Belgian soldier. "Halt!" came the order and, when once they were established in an advantageous position and sheltered as much as possible, they fired by guess and for a good reason. It was impossible to see a single one of the enemy soldiers. They were all hidden in the trenches and their heads scarcely came up to the parapet. Suddenly, some soldiers, dragging with them their machine-guns, rushed away, crying, "The Germans are there. Each man for himself!" It was impossible to stop them and there was a veritable helter-skelter. We discovered afterwards that these men were Germans, disguised as Belgian soldiers, in order to create a panic amongst us. There was a slight hesitation and then our officers rushed amongst the sharp-shooters and led them forward, to the positions they were to occupy. A violent musketry fire greeted them, coming chiefly from the St. Jean wood, a part of which had not been felled. Scattered about, our Chasseurs continued to advance, sheltering behind one tree after another, in spite of the ceaseless firing. The balls whizzed along and, with a dry crackle, cut down the branches or entered the trunks of the trees. I can still see a young Corporal, who had been hit in the head and chest with a ball and was red with blood, walking towards Major Le Doseray. "I have done my duty, Major," he said, "haven't I? Are you satisfied with me?" The Major had only just time to grasp his hand, when the poor fellow sank down. I rushed to him, but he was dead.