no idea where the Patricias
lay and so ordered Scott to remain with them until such time as an
inquiry might establish the whereabouts of his regiment.

They were captured, but under less exciting circumstances than
occurred in our own case. And the Germans had word that there was a
Canadian amongst these English troops. It was one of the first things
mentioned. They did not say how they had acquired their information,
but shouted out a request for the man to stand forth. When no one
complied, they questioned each man separately, asking him if he was a
Canadian or knew aught of one in that trench.

They all lied: "No." The Germans were so certain that they again went
over each man in turn, examining him.

Scott was at the end of the line. He began to cut the Canadian buttons
off his coat and to remove his badges. Several men near by assisted
and replaced them with such of their own as they could spare; each man
perhaps contributing a button. They had no thread nor time to use it
if they had, so tacked the buttons into place by all manner of
makeshifts, such as broken ends of matches thrust through holes
punched in the cloth; anything to hold the buttons in place and tide
the hunted Scott over the inspection. He passed. The Germans were
quite furious.

Scott and his companions could only guess at the cause of this strange
conduct, but presumed that the Canadian was wanted for special
treatment of an unfavorable, if not of a final nature.

To return to our own case:

About the middle of the afternoon we were herded by our guards into a
shallow depression a short distance in the rear of the trench and
there told to lie down. The officer and his men returned to the
trench. Until we were taken back to the trench at six we were
continually sniped at by the Germans in the captured trench. We had no
recourse but to make ourselves as small as possible, which we did. And
whether owing to the fact that the hollow we were lying in prevented
our being actually within the range of the enemy vision, or whether
they were merely playing cat and mouse with us, I do not know, but
none were hit. Young Cox suffered stoically. His mangled hand had
become badly fouled with dirt and filth, and the ragged bones
protruded through the broken flesh. So, in a quiet interval between
the sniping periods we hurriedly sawed the shattered stump of his hand
off with our clasp knives and bound it up as best we could. It was not
a nice task, for hi