another Scottish Division is leading the attack. To the right of Loos
again, for miles and miles and miles, we know that wave upon wave of
impetuous French soldiers is breaking in a tempest over the shattered
German trenches. Indeed, we conjecture that down there, upon our
right, is where the Biggest Push of all is taking place. Our duty is
to get forward if we can, but before everything to engage as many
German troops and guns as possible. Even if we fight for a week or
more, and only hold our own, we shall have done the greater part of
what was required of us. But we hope to do more than that.

Upon our left lies the Hohenzollern. It is silent; so we know that
it has been captured. Beyond that, upon our left front, looms Fosse
Eight, still surmounted by its battered shaft-tower. Right ahead,
peeping over a low ridge, is a church steeple, with a clock-face in
it. That is our objective.

Next moment we have deployed into extended order, and step out, to
play our little part in the great Battle of the Slag-Heaps.

II

Twenty-four hours later, a little group of officers sat in a roomy
dug-out. Major Kemp was there, with his head upon the plank table,
fast asleep. Bobby Little, who had neither eaten nor slept since the
previous dawn, was nibbling chocolate, and shaking as if with ague. He
had gone through a good deal. Waddell sat opposite to him, stolidly
devouring bully-beef out of a tin with his fingers. Ayling reclined
upon the floor, mechanically adjusting a machine-gun lock, which he
had taken from his haversack. Captain Wagstaffe was making cocoa over
a Tommy's Cooker. He looked less the worse for wear than the others,
but could hardly have been described as spruce in appearance. The
whole party were splashed with mud and soaked to the skin, for it had
rained hard during the greater part of the night. They were all sick
for want of food and sleep. Moreover, all had seen unusual sights. It
was Sunday morning.

Presently Wagstaffe completed his culinary arrangements, and poured
out the cocoa into some aluminium cups. He touched Major Kemp on the
shoulder.

"Have some of this, Major," he said.

The burly Kemp roused himself and took the proffered cup gratefully.
Then, looking round, he said--

"Hallo, Ayling! You arrived? Whereabouts in the line were you?"

"I got cut off from the Battalion in the advance up Central Boyau,
sir," said Ayling. "Everybody had disappeared by the time I got the
machine-guns ove