ajor told me the place was "strafed" every day, and I soon found that
this was so when I arrived. Several "crumps" fell in the wood behind me,
and two on the hill-side among some horses, killing several. If I saw
one dead horse I must have seen dozens; they were all over the place.
But everyone was much too busy to bury them at the moment. The stench
was decidedly unpleasant, and the flies buzzed around in swarms. I soon
had a couple of cigarettes alight. What a boon they were at times.

After much dodging and twisting I halted the car close to a forward
dressing station. While I was there several shells dropped unpleasantly
near, and I could not restrain my admiration for the medical staff who
tended the wounded, quite oblivious of the dangers by which they were
surrounded in so exposed a position. I obtained several very interesting
scenes of the wounded arriving.

I waited awhile to watch the Bosche shelling before going over the ridge
to Pozieres. I could then tell the sections he "strafed" most. I would
be able to avoid them as much as possible. I watched for fully an hour;
the variation in his target was barely perceptible. On one or two
occasions he "swept" the ridge. I decided to make a start after the next
dose.

Strapping the camera on my back, my man taking the tripod, we started
off. There was a light railway running towards Contalmaison. I followed
this until I got near the spot brother Fritz was aiming at, hugging a
trench at the side of a by-road. The bank was lined with funk-holes,
which came in very useful during the journey, and I had to seek their
shelter several times, but the nearest shell fell at a junction between
that road and a communication trench. Just this side lay a very much
dead horse. The shell came over. Down I went flat on my stomach. My man
dived into a hole. The shell exploded, and the next thing I remember was
a feeling as if a ton of bricks had fallen on top of me. I managed to
struggle up and make quickly for the trench, my man following; and you
may be quite sure I took care that I was well out of line of the next
before I eased up. Beyond a few scratches on the camera-case and a torn
coat, I was quite sound.

I was told of a Hun battery of 77 mm. guns on the left-hand side of the
valley leading to Pozieres, so I decided to make for that spot. I
enquired of a man as to the whereabouts of them.

"Well, sir," he said, "you may come to them if you keep straight on, but
I shouldn