, who were dancing round them in delight. They
had captured a hundred and fifty of them, but our guns had shelled them,
luckily without doing much damage to the Cyclists, so loading up the
prisoners with all their kit and equipment, and making them lead their
captors' bicycles, the Cyclists brought them in triumph for the
inspection of the Staff. It was a great moment.

I was very tired, and, careless of who passed, stretched myself at the
side of the road for a sleep. I was wakened an hour later, and we all
went along together to the chateau. There we slept in the hall before
the contented faces of some fine French pictures--or the majority of
them,--the rest were bestially slashed.

At the break of dawn (Sept. 9th) I was sent off to the 14th Brigade,
which composed the advance-guard. Scouts had reported that Saacy had
been evacuated by the enemy. So we pushed on cautiously and took
possession of the bridge.

I came up with the Brigade Staff on a common at the top of the
succeeding hill, having been delayed by a puncture. Nixon, the S.O.,
told me that a battery of ours in position on the common to the south of
the farm would open fire in a few minutes. The German guns would reply,
but would be quickly silenced. In the meantime I was to take shelter in
the farm.

I had barely put my bicycle under cover in the courtyard when the
Germans opened fire, not at our guns but at a couple of companies of the
Manchesters who were endeavouring to take cover just north of the farm.

In the farm I found King and his platoon of Cyclists. Shrapnel bullets
simply rattled against the old house, and an occasional common shell
dropped near by way of variety. The Cyclists were restive, and I was
too, so to relieve the situation I proposed breakfast. King and I had
half a loaf of Saacy bread and half a pot of jam I always carried about
with me. The rest went to the men. Our breakfast was nearly spoilt by
the Manchesters, who, after they had lost a few men, rushed through the
farm into the wood, where, naturally enough, they lost a few more. They
besought the Cyclists to cover their retreat, but as it was from
shrapnel we mildly suggested it was impossible.

The courtyard was by this time covered with tiles and pitted with
bullets. We, close up against the wall, had been quite moderately safe.
The shelling slackened off, so we thought we had better do a bunk. With
pride of race the motor-cyclist left last.

The 14th Brigade had disap