eve the Fusiliers. They included battalions of the Royal Scots
and the Gordons.

By this time the Germans had brought up more guns and were keeping up
such a terrific fire on our position that it did not seem humanly
possible to hold it, but that night a bombing attack by the Fourth
Canadian Brigade bombers, reinforced by about two hundred volunteers,
retook the craters and reestablished our line in a more advanced
position than that occupied by the original attackers. This line was
thereafter called the Canadian trench to distinguish it from the
other, which was called the British trench.

Early next morning we had a chance to see some of the "Kilties"
in action with the bayonet, during a counter-attack, which they
repulsed. As I remember it, they did very little shooting but jumped
out of their trench to meet the attackers with the cold steel. I never
saw any lot of soldiers who seemed so utterly determined to wipe out
all opposition. They were like wild men; savage and blood-thirsty in
the onslaught and, although the Germans must have outnumbered them at
least three to one, they never had a chance against those brawny
Scots. But few of the boches got back to their own line and no
prisoners were taken. We then appreciated the nickname given by the
Germans (first applied to Canadian Highlanders at Langemarck, but
afterward used to designate all "Kilties"), "The Ladies from Hell."

From that time the Canadians were alone in the fight. The Fusiliers,
having started it, faded away, and the Scots, after a few brief days,
likewise vanished and for two months or more St. Eloi was a continuous
struggle between the Second Canadian Division and at least four
German Divisions, including some of the infamous Prussian Guards.

During the next twelve days the righting was almost uninterrupted.
Troops came in and troops went out, but the Emma Gees held on,
forever, as it seemed to us. But few remained of the original gun
crews who started the engagement. Not all had been killed or wounded,
but it had been necessary to relieve some who were utterly exhausted.
How I kept going is a mystery to me as it was to others at the time.
One thing which probably helped was the fact that I never, for one
minute, permitted myself to think of anything except the matter of
keeping those guns going. Sentiment I absolutely cast out. I was
nothing but a cold-blooded machine. Good friends were killed but I
gave them no thought other than to get the