had had a pretty bad time on the
previous evening, and had lost a number of men, though they had given
the Germans a good deal more than they got. The German shelling had
been fairly accurate, and their infantry had pushed on between the
slag-heaps and got their machine-guns to work under cover in a
horribly efficient manner. Eventually our battalions had to evacuate
their trenches as their right flank was being turned, and they fell
back on Wasmes and Paturages, leaving most of their packs behind them
in the trenches. They had taken them off to dig, and, being hot, had
fought without them, and then this sudden outflanking movement had
necessitated a rapid falling back, so their packs and most of their
shovels had been left behind. This was awkward, more especially
hereafter, as, although the loss of the greatcoat did not matter much
in this hot weather, and certainly added to their marching power,
still, the loss of the pack meant loss of spare socks and spare
shirt--besides other things.

We snatched a little breakfast and coffee at an inn where the
_patronne_ was still in possession, and then things began to get more
lively. Shells began to knock corners off the houses close by, and
reports kept coming in that the enemy appeared to be advancing, though
the bulk of his infantry was still some way off to the east. The
Dorsets were rearranging their line so as not to be cut off, and I was
standing with Bols (commanding Dorsets) and a few of his officers by
the _estaminet_ when a shrapnel burst with a tremendous crack close
over our heads, bringing down branches and leaves in showers. Yet not
a man or a horse was hit. The shrapnel bullets whizzed along the
pavement in all directions, right among our feet, like hail it seemed;
yet the only result was a lot of bad language from Saunders, who had
got a nasty jar on the heel from one of the bullets: but it did not
even cut the leather.

It now became time to get the Dorset transport away, as things were
getting rather hot, and the crackling of rifles was getting distinctly
nearer. I thought of that horrible hill and I looked at my map.
Yes--there certainly was a way round back by the south-east, _via_ the
road along which Weatherby and I had just come back from interviewing
Haking. So I directed the transport to move that way--there was a road
branching off to the right only 400 yards on and quite safe, as I
thought, for the firing was up north and north-east, and this roa