me connection
with his Satanic Majesty. Well, we climbed up to where the boys were
and gave them a hand at the digging; finally we made a hole large
enough to let in a little air and then we all lay down and rested. We
were almost dead for want of air, for we had been buried for four
hours, and we did not know what might await us once we got out. After
we rested up a little, we finished our digging and crawled out. We
found ourselves in a large shell hole, the former trench being blown
away. The ground was being swept by machine guns and heavy shells, and
it was not healthy to rubber around very much. There was an officer in
charge of the machine gun crew, and finally he found a spot where there
was a slight protection, and he took a look around and this is what he
saw; the line of trenches we had left there in the morning were
entirely blotted, and the ground, as far as he could see, was literally
riddled with shell holes. Our boys had either been killed, wounded, or
taken prisoners, and our first and second lines were in the hands of
the Germans; however, their advance had been checked, and now, before
going any farther, let me explain that this is known now as the Third
Battle of Ypres, and the history is familiar to all. It was here that
the 1st Division of Canadians made their heroic stand in 1915, just one
year previous. But to come back to our present plight. We were at a
loss to know what to do, for we had no means of knowing how far the
Germans had penetrated our lines; but we knew that if their first wave
of reinforcements ever came up, they would surely get us, so there
seemed to be just one thing to do, and that was to make a dash for our
supports--the Germans who had come over were taking what shelter they
could in the shell holes, but they were lying as low as possible, on
account of the fierceness of our shell fire. It really seemed as
though every gun we had was trained on that spot, and the fire was
coming from three sides. One of the 28th boys who was watching the
battle from a neighbouring hill said that more shells fell to the
minute in this battle than in any he had ever seen, and certainly that
is the way it seemed to us; there was just one chance in a thousand of
our getting through, but the idea of staying and giving ourselves up
never entered our heads.

It took quite a bit of courage to make the first dash, but at 2.30 we
started out over the shell-swept ground. The shell holes wer