evastation--Preparing for an
Advance--Giving the Bosche "Jumps"--Breakfast Under Fire--My
Camera Fails Me Just Before the Opening of the Attack--But I
Manage to Set it Right and Get Some Fine Pictures--Our Guns
"Talk" Like the Crack of a Thousand Thunders--A Wonderful
Doctor.

After the battle of Martinpuich the nature of my work brought me in
contact with many stirring incidents, which, if put on record here,
would be merely repeating to a certain degree many of my previous
experiences, therefore I do not intend to bore my readers by doing so.

From one section of our front to the other I was kept continually on the
move. On the 25th September an attack was timed for twelve o'clock noon
for Morval and Lesboeufs, and the Guards, London Scottish, Norfolks,
Suffolks and many other regiments were to take part. The day before I
visited our front in that section to obtain preliminary scenes. The
London Scottish were preparing to leave to take up their battle
positions. From one front to the other I hurried, obtaining scenes of
the other regiments on the way up. I stayed during the night with an
officer of an 18-pounder battling on the left of Guillemont. The Bosche
was "strafing" the place pretty badly. I will not say I slept
comfortably, for shells came crashing over much too closely to do so; in
fact, I was up all night.

[Illustration: THE HIGHLAND BRIGADE GOING OVER THE TOP AT MARTINPUICH.
SEPTEMBER 15TH, 1916]

On several occasions I really thought my last minute had come. The noise
was deafening, the glare and flash although beautiful was sickening.
Our guns were pouring out a withering fire, and the ground quivered and
shook, threatening to tumble the temporary shelter about my ears. One
shell, which came very near, burst and the concussion slightly blew in
the side of the shelter; it also seemed to momentarily stun me; I
crouched down as close to earth as possible. I will admit that I felt a
bit "windy," my body was shaking as if with ague; a horrible buzzing
sensation was in my head, dizziness was coming over me. I dare not lose
control of myself, I thought; with an effort I staggered up and out of
the shelter, clutching my head as the pain was terrible. I dropped down
into an old German trench and sat in the bottom. In a few minutes my
head pains eased down slightly, but my nerves were still shaky. At that
moment one of the battery officers came along.

"Hullo! you got clear then?"