Redoubt.

The Ancre River and the marshy valley through which it runs are
crossed by several causeways. One most famous causeway crosses just in
front of Hamel on the line of the old Mill Road. The Mill from which
it takes its name lies to the left of the causeway on a sort of green
island. The wheel, which is not destroyed, still shows among the
ruins. The enemy had a dressing station there at one time.

The marshy valley of the Ancre splits up the river here into several
channels besides the mill stream. The channels are swift and deep,
full of exquisitely clear water just out of the chalk. The marsh is
rather blind with snags cut off by shells. For some years past the
moor-fowl in the marsh have been little molested. They are very
numerous here; their cries make the place lonely and romantic.

When one stands on this causeway over the Ancre one is almost at the
middle point of the battlefield, for the river cuts the field in two.
Roughly speaking, the ground to the west of the river was the scene of
containing fighting, the ground to the east of the river the scene of
our advance. At the eastern end of the causeway the Old Mill Road
rises towards the Schwaben Redoubt.

* * * * *

All the way up the hill the road is steep, rather deep and bad. It is
worn into the chalk and shows up very white in sunny weather. Before
the battle it lay about midway between the lines, but it was always
patrolled at night by our men. The ground on both sides of it is
almost more killed and awful than anywhere in the field. On the
English or south side of it, distant from one hundred to two hundred
yards, is the shattered wood, burnt, dead, and desolate. On the enemy
side, at about the same distance, is the usual black enemy wire, much
tossed and bunched by our shells, covering a tossed and tumbled chalky
and filthy parapet. Our own old line is an array of rotted sandbags,
filled with chalkflint, covering the burnt wood. One need only look at
the ground to know that the fighting here was very grim, and to the
death. Near the road and up the slope to the enemy the ground is
littered with relics of our charges, mouldy packs, old shattered
scabbards, rifles, bayonets, helmets curled, torn, rolled, and
starred, clips of cartridges, and very many graves. Many of the
graves are marked with strips of wood torn from packing cases, with
pencilled inscriptions, "An unknown British Hero"; "In loving memory
of Pte