he Guards charged on that
memorable day, September 25th. I saw a line of old trenches just
behind the village, and rode over to examine them. Perhaps it was
from this very line that our men advanced. I tried to picture to
myself what it must have been like--valour, endurance, turmoil,
destruction, death, a great forward rush by brave men that spent
itself, and fizzled out just on the eve of triumph. Why?

On the left there was a large cemetery. Many of the crosses had
soldiers' caps hung on them, and in one case the man was
evidently a Catholic, for crucifix and image had been taken down
from a post on the roadside and laid on the grave. I tried to
find if there was any trace of the names of two O.A.s who fell in
this battle, Crabbe and Beer, but failed to discover either name.

It was now getting late, so I retraced my steps and cantered
homewards. In this war-scarred region I actually met an old
French farmer driving his horse and trap along the road leading
towards the trenches just as if there was no war raging; and near
the one habitable house of the district small boys were playing
merrily, while their parents were calling them in and scolding
them in shrill voices. In some ruined houses were yet more
Scotsmen, most ubiquitous of peoples. I halted to chat with an
old military policeman who used to be with the 9th Cavalry
Brigade. Then home. A very interesting afternoon's work, which
gave one a real insight into "the conduct and results of war" as
waged in these cynical days.

During another visit I paid to this desolate region there was a
"strafe" of some magnitude on. As I rode I could hear the long
whistling and heavy crump of high explosives that the enemy were
dropping into a village about a mile to the left, and could see
the flame and smoke of the explosion. Our own guns soon began to
chime in. It was quite a cheerful little show, what with the
long-drawn whining of approaching Boche shells, the crash of
explosions, the thud of our guns replying, and the weird,
fluttering noise of our shells going over. Presently the gun duel
became more and more violent. The fearful crashes of our
"heavies," the groans, shrieks and whines of the shells on their
message of death, the tremendous thuds of Boche explosions, and
the whistling h