ving his leg amputated gave him his choice of that or
being shot. They amputated his leg above the knee without even
administering an anaesthetic, but he lived to return to Toronto and
tell the tale.

A number of the machine gunners were killed and wounded. Lieutenant
Dansereau, my adjutant, was struck in the head with a piece of shell
and everyone thought he was finished. Word was brought to me to that
effect, and I felt as if I had lost my own son. Sergeant Flood of the
machine gun section stood by his piece as long as possible, but
finally a shell smashed the mount and this piece of trench became
untenable. The pitiful remnant of the platoon, now consisting of seven
men with Major Marshall, had to find a place to the right of the
supporting trenches where they kept on fighting. The Germans had
broken through on our left and were trying to force our supporting
trenches.

Major Marshall and the few that were left with him spotted a platoon
of the enemy advancing in their front about one hundred feet away, led
by a man who they thought carried a white flag. He wore a blue coat
and looked like a French soldier. They thought at first that it was a
bunch of Turcos or of Germans wanting to surrender. They opened fire,
and the man with the white disk turned and started running back and
they saw that the other side of the disk bore the ominous black cross.
He was a marker for their artillery. He did not run far. Marshall had
a rifle and bayonet and knew how to use them. On our left Lieutenant
Colonel Burland of Montreal took charge of the 14th and fought rifle
in hand. He greatly distinguished himself.

All this time a miserable Hun was playing on our trenches from the
left rear with a machine gun.

Between our forward position and St. Julien, a short distance
northwest of the Poelcapelle Road, a number of farm buildings had been
seized by the Germans when the Turcos fled the first night, and they
had placed their Maxims in the upper windows and were trying their
level best all the time to get us in the back.

CHAPTER XXV

ALL THAT WAS LEFT OF THEM

"Look out!" called Lt.-Colonel Burland of Montreal to me.

"You make the hair stand up on my head. That 'blighter' has followed
you up and down with his machine gun all morning, and it is a mystery
to me how he manages to miss you."

"Well, you're a machine gunner too, and you know he traverses the
Maxim after me by patting it on the cheek. I just step short tw