to fulfil
instructions in the carrying of his orders into Ypres.

For three miles, right over 'Hill 60,' I had the ride of my life. Shells
were bursting in every direction, but my good horse struggled on gamely.
By this time he had come to know the import of the shrieking whistle
which betokens the approach of a shell, but he displayed no more concern
than a momentary quiver as it burst. As for me I could only place myself
in God's hands, and well remember how, as each shell approached, I
repeated that comforting word from Isaiah xxvi. 3, 'Thou wilt keep him
in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on thee, because he trusteth in
thee.' Over and over again I repeated 'because he trusteth in thee.' And
then bang! bang! and once more the danger was past.

The road was crowded with terrified people, literally fleeing for their
lives, and as I got out of the range of fire, I tried to comfort them in
the best way I could.

Reaching Ypres I delivered my message, and then sank down and fell into
a deep sleep for four hours. I suppose it was a kind of reaction from
the nervous strain.

I found Ypres crammed with wounded men, and worked hard there for the
next day or two. Many were the distressing cases that came under my
attention.

It was on October 23 that I received my first batch of letters from
home, and the first opportunity I stole away into a quiet corner and
enjoyed myself to my heart's content.

Those were wonderful days, in which all sorts and conditions of men,
from officers of the Household Troops downwards, passed through my
hands. Of course there were many funerals to conduct, and in connexion
with the funeral arrangements and the system of tabulating I came much
into contact with Major the Hon. ----. Collins, one of the most charming
and courteous of men.

On October 31--that fateful day, when it seemed impossible for the thin
line of khaki to further withstand the tremendous onslaught of the enemy
which had placed the Prussian Guard in its front line--the sad duty of
burying young Prince Maurice of Battenburg fell to my lot. It was a
strange coincidence, for I had met him in bygone years when he was a
bright, attractive boy. Such a task awakened the greatest interest in
my heart, for sad as the ceremony was, I keenly felt the privilege of
rendering this last act of tender duty to a young prince so universally
beloved. One of his men, in relating the manner of his heroic death,
afterwards said to me, 'I lo