while to film the interior and exterior of the church, and so add
another to the iniquitous record of the Bosche for destroying everything
held sacred.

[Illustration: ON THE WAY TO THE "MENIN GATE" WITH AN ARTILLERY OFFICER,
TO FILM OUR GUNS IN ACTION]

A short distance outside the town I came upon the gun positions, and
crossing a field--or rather shall I say a mud-pond, for the mud very
nearly reached my knees--I selected a point of vantage at one side of
a hedge which ran at right angles to the gun-pits. There was only one
path fit to traverse, and getting hold of an officer, I asked him if we
could so arrange it that the Prince started from the further end of the
path and came towards camera. He said he would try. Fixing up the
camera, I got in front of the hedge facing the path, and completely hid
all signs of the machine with bracken and branches of trees. Pushing the
lens well through the hedge, I ripped open an old sandbag, cut a hole in
it and hung it on the hedge, with my lens pointing through. By such
means it was quite impossible for anyone in front to see either myself
or the camera, and having completed my preparations, I settled down to
patiently await the arrival of the Prince.

In about half an hour he came along with Lord Cavan, a general, and
other officers of the staff. True to his promise, Captain ---- got the
Prince to follow the path I had indicated. When he arrived at the
further end of the row of guns, I started filming. He came direct
towards the camera, but when within fifteen feet of it the noise of
handle turning attracted his attention. He stood fully fifteen seconds
gazing in my direction, evidently wondering what it was on the other
side of the hedge. Then he passed out of range. I hurried across the
field with my aeroscope (an automatic camera), and stood at the end of
the path waiting for him to pass.

In a few moments he came along, and I started filming. The smiles of the
staff officers were pleasing to behold. One of them remarked to the
Prince that it was quite impossible to escape this time. As he passed
inside the farm-house, I heard him remark: "That was the man I tried to
dodge on Christmas Day. How did he know I was coming here? Who told
him?" The enquiry was followed by some good-natured laughter, and
feeling satisfied with my work, I hurried away.

I had now to proceed to the front line trenches, taking the car, as far
as possible, along the road. I had hidden it under