, fat and clumsy. Withal a man, a
warrior. Before mid-day blood was spouting from out five vital wounds
and in a few seconds faintness began to spread over him. His eyes filled
with tears.

"I feels bad," he said, "can't, can't the bleedin' be stopped? I don't
want to go under ... think they can get me away before Jerry comes?
Things some'ow ain't over clear: everything foggy." Casey came over to
him, white-faced and half-crying himself.

"You're orl right, ole pal," he said, "not bleedin' much now."

"No. But it's cloudy. D'you find it cloudy?"

"Yes. A 'ell of a mist creepin' up. Want any water?"

"No, but," with a faint grin, "got any rum?"

"'Ere you," an N.C.O. ran up and touched Casey, "Captain wants a runner.
Get a move on."

"But poor ole Stumpy yere----"

"D'you 'ear wot I said. Go on, 'op it, or I'll--well, put lead in
yer."

"Orl right. So long, ole pal."

"So long." Stumpy tried hard to see him through the mistiness before his
eyes, "but you'll get me away before Jerry comes...." Casualty list two
weeks later: "Pte.----." Missing. April 12th. He is still unheard of,
forgotten. His grave is undisturbed somewhere in peaceful loneliness.

Estaires and Doulieu were several miles in the enemy lines, the Normans
entangled with Staffords and Middlesex converged back past Bleu, moving
as far as any one direction could be determined, approximately
north-west.

There seemed to be no officers left, few over fifty Royal Guernsey ranks
could be counted. Company Headquarters were no more, the scattered few
had no means of access to their C.O., joined in and formed fighting
blocks with mutual consent and without actual leaders, and carried on
the hourly withdrawal. From out this remnant Lance-Corporal Hamel
scrambled away to a dressing station, two ominous trickles of blood
streaming down his legs. Winter Gregg (M.M.), too, got away in a
semi-conscious condition.

One of the few trench mortar shells burst within a yard of a tall
youngster. Unscathed, blackened, he turned with a piercing scream.

"God, oh my God! Where is the sun? The light 'as gone out. Someone, his
voice rose to a mad shriek, 'someone come 'ere. I can't see. I'm blind,
I'm blind, oh I'm blind." He threw himself on the earth and sobbed in
fearful agony. They helped him to his feet, led him away, but there
echoed back his remorseful wail; "I'm blind, blind!"

That gets you. Blind! Better death....

The hours sped. Men fell with none to