. I sent
forward the message, "Carry on," but still no movement resulted.

At last, feeling something was wrong and unable to restrain my
impatience any longer, I jumped out of the trench and ran along the
parados.

What I saw there appalled me for the moment; the wood in front of me
was filled with bursting shells; a continuous pr-r-r-r-r seemed to be
moving backward and forward, and bullets were whistling in all
directions.

Good God! what a hell! No wonder the men hesitated! What was to be
done? My orders left me no alternative. I must advance through the
wood. My brain kept repeating the words, "At any cost!" What a cost it
would be to enter that hell! It was now, or never!

We were hesitating; something must be done, and done quickly. I looked
at Farman, and I knew I could count on him.

The next moment I leaped into a newly made shell-hole, about five
yards in the wood; called upon Farman to follow, and a moment later he
came jumping after.

The noise was terrific. We yelled at the top of our voices for the
next man to follow.

The next man to take the leap was the company sergeant-major. A piece
of shell struck him in the side, and he rolled over on the ground,
clutching at his tunic.

Again we yelled for the men to come along; and one by one they took
the leap.

When six of us were in the shell-hole it was time for us to empty it
to make room for others. Farman and I took it in turns to lead the
way, and this process went on through the wood, leaping from hole to
hole, and yelling at the top of our lungs for the others to follow us.

By this time the scene inside the wood was indescribable. Machine-gun
bullets were spraying backward and forward; 6-inch shells were
exploding in all directions; and the din was intensified by the
crashing of trees uprooted by the explosions, and the dull thud of the
missiles striking the ground.

Through the dull light of that filthy wood we frequently cast an
anxious glance towards the red rockets being sent up from the German
lines, directing the fire of their artillery towards us.

Sometimes, in leaping forward, we would land beside the dead and
mutilated carcass of a German soldier who had fallen a week before.
It was ghastly, terrible; and the millions of flies sucking at his
open wounds would swarm about us, seemingly in a buzz of anger at our
disturbance. But sickly and ghastly as the scene was, farther and
farther into this exaggerated hell we must go.

B