ceeded I could not
restrain a smile at the sight of two German prisoners hurrying along
with my outfit, and a grinning Tommy with his inevitable cigarette
between his lips, and a bayonet at the ready, coming up behind. It was
too funny for words.

When I reached the car my lost man was not there. I enquired of several
battle-police and stretcher-bearers if they had seen a man of his
description wandering about, and carrying a leather case, but nobody had
seen him. After having a sandwich, I decided to go again to the front
line to find him. I could not leave him there. I must find out something
definite. On my way down I made further enquiries, but without result. I
searched around those trenches until I was soaked to the skin and fagged
out, but not a trace of him could I discover; not even my camera or
pieces of it. The only thing that could have happened, I thought, was
that he had got into a dug-out, and the entrance had been blown in by
heavy shell-fire.

Retracing my steps I examined several smashed dug-outs. It was
impossible to even attempt to lift the rubble. With gloomy thoughts I
returned again to the car, and on my journey back left instructions with
various men to report anything found to the town major at ----. I stayed
the night in the vicinity in the hope of receiving news; but not a scrap
came through. Again next day, and the next, I hunted the trenches,
unsuccessfully, and finally I came to the conclusion that he had been
killed and decided to post him as missing. I had arrived at this
decision whilst resting on the grass at the top of Becourt Wood and was
making a meal of bully and biscuits when, looking up, I saw what I took
to be an apparition of my missing man walking along the road and
carrying a black case. I could scarcely believe my eyes.

"Where the devil have you been?" I asked. "I was just on my way back to
post you as missing. What has happened?"

"Well, sir, it was like this. When that shell burst I dived into a
dug-out, and was quite all right. Then another shell burst and struck
the entrance, smashing it in. I have been all this time trying to get
out. Then I lost my way and--well, sir, here I am. But your camera case
is spoilt." So ended his adventure.

Thinking that the films I had obtained of the Somme fighting should be
given to the public as quickly as possible, I suggested to G.H.Q.--and
they fully agreed--that I should return to England without delay. So
packing up my belong