, and smoking.

A great many asked me as they came through: "Was I in the picture, sir?"
I had to say "yes" to them all, which pleased them immensely.

Still no definite news. The heavy firing continued. I noticed several of
our wounded men lying in shell-holes in "No Man's Land." They were
calling for assistance. Every time a Red Cross man attempted to get near
them, a hidden German machine-gun fired. Several were killed whilst
trying to bring in the wounded. The cries of one poor fellow attracted
the attention of a trench-mortar man. He asked for a volunteer to go
with him, and bring the poor fellow in. A man stepped forward, and
together they climbed the parapet, and threaded their way through the
barbed wire very slowly. Nearer and nearer they crept. We stood watching
with bated breath. Would they reach him? Yes. At last! Then hastily
binding up the injured man's wounds they picked him up between them, and
with a run made for our parapet. The swine of a German blazed away at
them with his machine-gun. But marvellous to relate neither of them were
touched.

I filmed the rescue from the start to the finish, until they passed me
in the trench, a mass of perspiration. Upon the back of one was the
unconscious man he had rescued, but twenty minutes after these two had
gone through hell to rescue him, the poor fellow died.

During the day those two men rescued twenty men in this fashion under
heavy fire.

[Illustration: THE ROLL CALL OF THE SEAFORTHS AT "WHITE CITY," BEAUMONT
HAMEL, JULY 1ST, 1916]

[Illustration: FAGGED OUT IN THE "WHITE CITY" AFTER WE RETIRED TO OUR
TRENCHES, JULY 1ST, 1916. SOME OF THE INCOMPARABLE 29TH DIVISION]

CHAPTER XV

ROLL-CALL AFTER THE FIGHT

A Glorious Band of Wounded Heroes Stagger Into Line and
Answer the Call--I Visit a Stricken Friend in a Dug-out--On
the Way to La Boisselle I Get Lost in the Trenches--And
Whilst Filming Unexpectedly Come Upon the German Line--I
Have a Narrow Squeak of Being Crumped--But Get Away
Safely--And later Commandeer a Couple of German Prisoners to
Act as Porters.

The day wore on. The success of the fighting swayed first this way, then
that. The casualties mounted higher and higher. Men were coming back
into our trenches maimed and broken; they all had different tales to
tell. I passed along talking to and cheering our wonderful men as much
as I could. And the Germans, to add to this ghastly whirlpool of hor