lse we
could get hold of. I spent hours and hours examining the grenades and
packing them into sandbag carriers. One of our transport-wagons[10]
had a lucky escape, whilst carrying a load of 2000 Mills grenades, all
detonated, to one of our dumps. The safety-pin of one of the grenades
broke with the jolting of the wagon, and the grenade went off,
bursting its own and several other boxes, but not setting off any
other of the grenades. I had an anxious time unpacking that
wagon-load. The brass safety-pins of the Mills grenades were very
unsatisfactory at this time; but I had collected a large number of
steel pins from the bombing grounds, and I used to re-pin any that I
thought had weak brass-pins. This examination of the grenades was
rather wearisome, but it was time well spent, for we had no accident
with them when the carrying-parties took them up the line. And other
units were not so fortunate in that respect. About 24,000 grenades
went through my hands, and of these perhaps 5000 went into the
sandbags. On September 14 we first saw the mysterious tanks, which had
arrived behind the quarry to take part in the great attack next day.
We had two allotted to our Division. That night we moved from Mametz
Wood to the Chalk Quarry at Bazentin-le-Petit. Here one of the
Divisional Field Co. R.E. had prepared for us excellent H.Q. in the
side of the Quarry. The offices were well down in the side of the
Quarry, the mess room was a large shelter covered with sandbags a
little higher up. We were fairly crowded that night, for a large
number of 'liaison' officers arrived for duty next day. We were
sleeping inside the mess shelter, practically shoulder to shoulder all
over the floor. Officers were sleeping and feeding and working there
all at the same time. A day and night mess was run for the benefit of
all that came in.

For the last four or five days our artillery had kept up an almost
continual fire on the enemy's lines. Now at the last moment the guns
of the Field Artillery were taken out of their hiding places and
brought forward into the open. Our chalk pit was practically under the
muzzles of about a dozen field guns.

Later on that night we heard a curious whistling, puffing sound, it
was the two tanks clambering up the hill to get into position near the
front line.

FOOTNOTES:

[10] Lieut. F.C. Clayton was now Brigade Transport Officer.

XV

THE 15TH SEPTEMBER 1916

We were all up early next morning, and