g ammunition from one to the other in an endless
chain and disappearing into the bowels of the earth.

The shaft took a downward trend. It was only by squeezing past the
munition bearers that we were able to proceed at all, and in some places
it was impossible for more than one to crush through at a time. By the
light of an electric torch, stuck in the mud, I was able to see the men.
They were wet with perspiration, steaming, in fact; stripped to the
waist; working like Trojans, each doing the work of six men.

The journey seemed endless. I could tell by the position that I was
climbing. My guide was still in front, and letting me know of his
whereabouts by shouting: "Straight ahead, sir! Mind this hole!"

The latter part of the shaft seemed practically upright. I dragged my
camera along by the strap attached to the case. It was impossible to
carry it.

We were nearing daylight. I could see a gleam only a few feet away. At
last we came to the exit. My guide was there.

"Keep down low, sir. This sap is only four feet deep. It's been done
during the night, about fifty yards of it. We are in 'No Man's Land'
now, and if the Germans had any idea we were here, the place would soon
be an inferno."

"Go ahead," I said. It was difficult to imagine we were midway between
the Hun lines and our own. It was practically inconceivable. The
shell-fire seemed just as bad as ever behind in the trenches, but here
it was simply heavenly. The only thing one had to do was to keep as low
as possible and wriggle along. The ground sloped downwards. The end of
the sap came in sight. My guide was crouching there, and in front of
him, about thirty feet away, running at right angles on both sides, was
a roadway, overgrown with grass and pitted with shell-holes. The bank
immediately in front was lined with the stumps of trees and a rough
hedge, and there lined up, crouching as close to the bank as possible,
were some of our men. They were the Lancashire Fusiliers, with bayonets
fixed, and ready to spring forward.

"Keep low as you run across the road, sir. The Bosche can see right
along it; make straight for the other side." With that he ran across,
and I followed. Then I set my camera up and filmed the scene. I had to
take every precaution in getting my machine in position, keeping it
close to the bank, as a false step would have exposed the position to
the Bosche, who would have immediately turned on H.E. shrapnel, and
might have enfiladed