. The air was thick with spent particles
of steel and lead that rattled on the pavement and tiles as my
Adjutant, Sergeant Miller and I made our way out of the burning
shattered buildings through dense clouds of asphyxiating gasses that
blinded us to the trenches at the east side of the village where
Captains Alexander and Cory held their ground.

So far, so good. The fleeing Turcos had not spread panic in the ranks
of the Canadians. Every man was prepared to die rather than give up
the trenches. As we made our way to Captain Alexander in the gathering
dusk we passed through a company of the 7th Battalion going into
reserve behind St. Julien. As we reached the trenches we learned that
the 7th Battalion had received orders, and were going to fill the gap
between the defenders of St. Julien and the trenches held by the Royal
Highlanders of Montreal and the 48th Highlanders of Toronto at the toe
of the salient.

One of the first men to greet me when we got to the trenches was
Captain Alexander, cool and imperturbable. He always had a pleasant
word for everybody and a kind heart for his men. During the small
hours of the morning the 7th Battalion slipped quietly past us, also a
company of the Buffs. They quickly lined the St. Julien, Poelcapelle
road and began to dig themselves in.

All through this trying time I was accompanied by my adjutant, Lieut.
Dansereau, and Sergeant Miller. We all realized that the situation was
very serious, but they were both very cheerful and Miller was in the
best of spirits, cracking jokes with the men.

When the shelling of the village began, my men showed me a bomb proof
cellar which they suggested that I should occupy. I examined it, but
something compelled me not to stay in it. Inside of ten minutes it was
destroyed by a couple of "coal boxes."

One of our signallers, Bell, tried to hang on to the telephone at our
centre in St. Julien village, although two shells burst in the
building and he narrowly escaped death. The signalling section under
Sergeant Calder soon had the line connected up with our trenches, and
Bell was ordered to leave St. Julien, which he did reluctantly
although he had suffered a lot from the gas and had been slightly
deafened by the explosions.

The chirpiest soldier in the whole outfit was Signalling Sergeant
Calder, who was one of the shortest men in the regiment. The breadth
of his shoulders and the burr on his tongue got him enlisted in the
first instance.