oughly to cleanse the
square miles of ground and bury the bodies and fragments that cover it.

Unknowingly, when I had hurried for cover in the trench, the night
before I had been within twelve feet of a party of five dead Bosches,
and the atmosphere in the early morning was more than I could tolerate,
so picking up my camera, etc., I took up fresh quarters.

A snorting, crunching sound struck my ears and looking on my left I
observed a Tank ambling forward to take up its position for the coming
show. It was emitting clouds of bluish-grey smoke from its exhaust which
gave it a rather ghostly appearance in the mist.... Now and again as it
came to a very deep shell-hole it stopped to poise itself on the rim and
then gently tipped its nose downwards, disappearing, to rise like a huge
toad on the other side, and then continue its journey.

More troops were coming up in platoon to take up their position in
supports, ammunition carriers were taking up fresh supplies of bombs,
Red Cross men were making their way forward--not a sound was to be heard
from them and the whole place was now a line of silent movement. All the
main work and preparation was to finish before the last shadow of night
had been chased away by the light of the rising sun, before the setting
of which many of the boys would lay down their lives that justice and
civilisation might triumph over the false doctrine of blood and iron and
barbarism--_German Kultur_.

* * * * *

"Come along, Malins, your cup of tea is ready," shouted an officer.

I left my camera under cover of a fallen tree trunk and crossed to a
covered shell-hole which answered to the name of dug-out. Anyway, apart
from shrapnel or a direct hit from an H.E., we were comparatively safe,
being below ground level. Along the centre was a rough plank on two
boxes and grouped either side were several other officers of the
battery. We all of us soon forgot about the previous night's efforts of
Fritz in a gorgeous repast of _bacon_, fried bread, and tea.

Bosche was now fairly quiet; he was "strafing" the ridge in front with
an occasional H.E.; some of our batteries on my right were still at it.
It was now quite daylight; our aeroplanes were flitting across the sky,
diving low to obtain better observation of the enemy, and incidentally
getting "strafed" by his anti-aircraft guns which did not interest them
in the least.

"What time is zero-hour?" I asked.

"Twelv