from beyond those
trees one knew that the German trenches were receiving exactly the
same intensity of fire there. Every now and then this belt of trees
was being thrown into sharp relief by German star-shells, which
rocketed into the sky one after the other like a display of fireworks,
while at times a burst of hostile shrapnel would throw a weird, red
light on the twinkling poplars which surrounded the cemetery.

As we marched on towards the village (I do not mind saying it) I
experienced that unpleasant sensation of wondering whether I should be
lying out this time to-morrow--stiff and cold in that land beyond the
trees, where the red shrapnel burst and the star-shells flickered. I
remember hoping that, if the fates so decreed, I should not leave too
great a gap in my family, and, best hope of all, that I should instead
be speeding home in an ambulance on the road that stretched along to
our left. I do not think that I am far wrong when I say that those
thoughts were occurring to every man in the silent platoon behind me.
Not that we were downhearted. If you had asked the question, you would
have been greeted by a cheery "No!" We were all full of determination
to do our best next day, but one cannot help enduring rather an
unusual "party feeling" before going into an attack.

Suddenly a German shell came screaming towards us. It hurtled overhead
and fell behind us with muffled detonation in Sailly-au-Bois. Several
more screamed over us as we went along, and it was peculiar to hear
the shells of both sides echoing backwards and forwards in the sky at
the same time.

We were about four hundred yards from the outskirts of Hebuterne, when
I was made aware of the fact that the platoon in front of me had
stopped. I immediately stopped my platoon. I sat the men down along a
bank, and we waited--a wait which was whiled away by various
incidents. I could hear a dog barking, and just see two gunner
officers who were walking unconcernedly about the battery positions
and whistling for it. The next thing that happened was a red flash in
the air about two hundred yards away, and a pinging noise as bits of
shrapnel shot into the ground round about. One of my men, S---- (the
poor chap was killed next day), called to me: "Look at that fire in
Sailly, sir!" I turned round and saw a great yellow flare illuminating
the sky in the direction of Sailly, the fiery end of some barn or
farm-building, where a high explosive had found its b