nt to go forward and take the other
fellow's line in order to get better quarters in the German trenches.

This corner had been the scene of some hot fighting at some period
during the war, for in my tour of the trenches that night I
encountered a dozen little graveyards a few yards in rear of the
parapets.

Back and forward I went, and the entire line was canvassed and
discussed. Lieutenant Fessenden, one of the most brilliant graduates
of the Royal Military College, had a particularly hard spot to deal
with, and was handling it in a manner worthy of any of the great
Belgian engineers. Fessenden had a brother in the British army. No
lieutenant in the whole allied army was a better student of the art of
war, or a more fearless man, than this rosy-cheeked boy of twenty-two.

"Sandbags, and more sandbags!" was the reply of Lieutenant Macdonald,
when I questioned him as to the requirements of his section. He was on
the extreme left, and if anything happened on that side he was sure to
be enfiladed. He was quite cool about it, however, a worthy namesake
of the great Marshal who had fought so valiantly beneath the walls of
Roulers a few miles away.

Lieutenant Smith, always cool and dour, a thorough Scot, was a man to
be trusted in a tight place. Captain McKessock had a long talk with me
about the machine gun positions. He had reconnoitred his ground very
carefully, and had found several places back of the lines where he
could mount a gun and rake the German lines if they advanced to the
attack. Captain McKessock was one of the men who had sacrificed a
great deal to do his share in this war. He was a captain in the 95th
Battalion when the war broke out, and he brought a large quota of men
to Valcartier. He joined the 48th and insisted upon having command of
the machine gun section. It was pointed out to him that it was a
subaltern's position, but he wished to have it, and his wishes were
gratified. He left the position of crown attorney of a large district,
with an income of ten thousand dollars a year, to go to the front,
leaving behind him a wife and family. Such devotion to duty is
exemplary. He understood his guns thoroughly, and is one of the few
men I have met who had studied the tactical employment of the gun as
well as its technical operation.

When I came to Captain Daniel's section he was waiting for me. Daniels
was a very handsome man, an engineer of note, a graduate of the
Technical Department of Mines in Q