f up the road to
the ruined town of Beaurains. Here I found the Headquarters of the
16th Battalion in the cellar of a broken house. The officers' mess was
a little shack by the roadside, and among those present was the
second-in-command, Major Bell-Irving, who had crossed with me on the
"Andania." Alas, this was the last time I was to see him. He was
killed in the battle of Cambrai.

After lunch I continued up the long pave road which leads to Croisilles.
On the way I saw the 8th Battalion in an open field. Near them were a
number of Imperial officers and men of the British Division which (p. 303)
was on our right. We made our way through Bullecourt to Hendecourt,
near which in trenches were the battalions of the 1st Brigade, and
there too Colonel Macphail had his headquarters. There was a great
concentration of men in this area, and the roads were crowded with
lorries and limbers as well as troops. I stayed that night with the
engineers, as the weather looked threatening. The sky grew black and
rain began to fall. When one stood in the open and looked all round at
the inky darkness everywhere, with the rain pelting down, and knew
that our men had to carry on as usual, one realized the bitterness of
the cup which they had to drink to the very dregs. Rain and darkness
all round them, hardly a moment's respite from some irksome task, the
ache in the heart for home and the loved ones there, the iron
discipline of the war-machine of which they formed a part, the chance
of wounds and that mysterious crisis called death--these were the
elements which made up the blurred vision in their souls.

The next morning the weather had cleared, and I went on towards Cagnicourt.
On the journey I was delayed by a lorry which had gone into the ditch
and completely blocked the road. Here in a field the 1st Field Ambulance
had established themselves. Later on I managed to get to Cagnicourt
and found my son's battery in the cellars of the Chateau. They were
getting their guns forward by night in preparation for the attack.
They gave me a very pressing invitation to sleep there and I accepted
it. We had a pleasant evening, listening to some remarkably good
violin records on the gramophone. Good music at such times had a
special charm about it. It reminded one of the old days of concerts
and entertainments, but, at the same time, as in the background of a
dream, one seemed to hear beneath the melodies the tramp of mighty
battalions marching