r the parapet. However, knowing the objective, I
pushed on towards the Church Tower."

"How did you enjoy yourself passing Fosse Eight?" inquired Captain
Wagstaffe.

"Thank you, we got a dose of our own medicine--machine-gun fire, in
enfilade. It was beastly."

"We also noticed it," Wagstaffe intimated. "That was where poor
Sinclair got knocked out. What did you do?"

"I signalled to the men to lie flat for a bit, and I did the same. I
did not know that it was possible for a human being to lie as flat as
I lay during that quarter of an hour. But it was no good. The guns
must have been high up on the Fosse: they had excellent command. The
bullets simply greased all round us. I could feel them combing out my
hair, and digging into the ground underneath me."

"What were your sensations, _exactly_?" asked Kemp.

"I felt just as if an invisible person were tickling me," replied
Ayling, with feeling.

"So did I," said Kemp. "Go on."

"I heard one of my men cry out that he was hit," continued Ayling,
"and I came to the conclusion that we would have a better chance as
moving targets than as fixed; so I passed the word to get up and
move forward steadily, in single file. Ultimately we struck a stray
communication-trench, into which we descended with as much dignity as
possible. It led us into some quarries."

"Off our line altogether."

"So I learned from two Companies of an English regiment which were
there, acting as reserve to a Brigade which was scrapping somewhere in
the direction of Hulluch; so I realised that we had worked too far to
the right. We moved out of the quarries and struck over half-left, and
ultimately found the Battalion, a very long way ahead, in what I took
to be a Bosche third-line trench, facing east."

"Right! Fosse Alley," said Kemp. "You remember it on the map?"

"Yes, I do now," said Ayling. "Well, I planted myself on the right
flank of the Battalion with-two guns, and sent Sergeant Killick along
with the other two to the left. You know the rest."

"I'm not sure that I do," said the Major. "We were packed so tight in
that blooming trench that it was quite impossible to move about, and
I only saw what was going on close around me. Did you get much
machine-gun practice?"

"A fair amount, sir," replied Ayling, with professional satisfaction.
"There was a lot of firing from our right front, so I combed out all
the bushes and house-fronts I could see; and presently the firing died
down,