on the lap of the gods, in other words sitting on our
General's knees, and Mac would look as if I were a partner in a deep
laid conspiracy to keep the regiment from being covered with glory.

When we last went into the trenches Captains Alexander and Cory had to
take the line nearest the Germans. They were only eighty yards away
and the parapets were as thin as bargain day wall paper. Lots had been
cast, and McGregor had won the reserved position and Alexander the hot
corner. I ventured to remark to Alexander that I was sorry that his
luck had put him in a dangerous place, and that he should have his
turn next in reserve. I did not get far with this speech when he
snapped back quietly and firmly, "The post of danger is the post of
honour." As for Cory and Jones, I had to threaten them with a
court-martial if they did not stop hopping on the parapets in full
view of the Germans both day and night.

They were all feeling happy to-day, even grim Captain MacLaren was
wearing a broad smile. As for McKessock, well his ancestors followed
Bruce from Kilmarnock to Ireland. There is no need for further
comment. He had the machine guns well cleaned and the cartridges in
the belts polished like front door knobs so they wouldn't jam.

After hearing that the third line was to be attacked I hurried back to
my post. The artillery had stopped firing for a while to let the haze
and smoke clear away so they could observe, but it still hung heavy
over the German lines.

Shortly after eleven o'clock the artillery started in again. Most of
the Canadian guns seemed to be firing at Aubers, and if there were any
Germans in that town they must have suffered. For nearly an hour the
bombardment of the third line continued. Then followed a longer
interval of rifle fire and then the bombs; shouting and rifle fire
died away shortly after one o'clock. At about half past one I could
see khaki figures in kilts in the outskirts of Aubers. They seemed to
be strolling around looking for something to do. When I went to the
telephone I learned that the third and last line of the German
trenches had been taken and the battle had been won. What a place to
win a victory over the same Germans that for two thousand years have
been crossing the Rhine and invading Flanders, only to be defeated and
driven back again as the Germans of to-day will be driven back.
History will surely repeat itself. What is the use of these invasions,
these fierce raids by the Germa