ench
schoolhouse near by, and from there we had to watch the destruction of
our remaining two guns from the concentrated fire of five German
batteries of all calibers poured upon them. Our ammunition was
completely destroyed, and they struck No. 2 gun repeatedly, but the two
other guns were left intact.

It was now about 11 o'clock A.M. and orders were flashed for more guns
and more ammunition; then the fire cooled down. During the day two more
new guns were brought up, together with one thousand shells, and
everything was ready for the retaking of Sanctuary Woods the following
morning. Between three and five o'clock the next A.M. the 13th, 15th and
16th Scotch-Canadian Battalion, some of Canada's finest regiments, along
with several others, streamed up the road. Wherever the sweep of the
kiltie went, there was going to be something doing.

Daylight. "Stand to the battery! Targets, front-line trenches!" We
opened up for thirty minutes; our telephonist reported there was such a
smoke from the barrage that they could not see the infantry, but the
woods were on fire. The Empire battery, together with heavy naval guns
that had been brought up, and armored trains, were all concentrating
their trip-hammers on the place. It was now evident that every living
thing in the woods must be dead, as nothing could live under the
hurricane of fire.

We next attacked the road, stopping the German reserves and ammunition
from getting near. Then--"Over!"

The net result of the day's work was--the woods, the German front-line
trenches, three thousand prisoners, German dead and wounded piled in
heaps; wherever the eye turned, the shell holes, trenches and ditches
were packed with wounded, dead and dying Huns.

Our captain asked for volunteer observers, and I offered. We went into
the place where once was Maple Copse Woods, but it was no more; here and
there was a standing tree, but not a leaf or limb left of it, and the
trunks were littered with pieces of steel and iron. Before the battle
commenced, this spot was one of the loveliest places in the country
round about that one could well imagine. Flowers, shrubbery and the
rarest of plants of all kinds were there in abundance. This day it was a
scarred ruin; the savagery of destruction was so terrible it is
indescribable.

We wound our way amongst the dead and the wounded to the top of Mont
Soreul, first stopping to take a peep at our old guns; they were still
there, but badly batter