ith their pillars of liquid fire, whose smoke rose
high in the air with a peculiar turn at the top which looked like the
neck of a huge giraffe. At once the Germans sent up rockets of various
colours, signalling for aid from their guns, and the artillery duel of
the two great armies waxed loud and furious. I stood on the hill with
some of our men, and watched the magnificent scene. Nothing but the
thought of what it meant to human beings took away from our (p. 199)
enjoyment of the mighty spectacle. When day dawned, we could see,
silhouetted against the morning sky, men walking over the hilltop, and
now and then jumping down into the captured trenches. Once again our
Division had got its objective. At various points difficulties had
been encountered, and in a place called the "Chalk Pit", which afterwards
became our front line, the Germans had made a determined stand. They
had a wonderful dugout there, like a rabbit-warren, with many passages
and entrances, from which they were bombed out with great difficulty.
One of our western battalions suffered heavily in taking the
stronghold.

I went on to Fort Glatz and to some of the other advanced aid-posts.
We had many casualties, but we felt that the worst was not yet over,
for we knew that, although we had taken the hill, the Germans would
make a desperate fight to get it back again. All day long our artillery
pounded away and our infantry consolidated the line. Our Pioneer
Battalion did splendid work in digging trenches under heavy fire, in
order to connect our advanced positions. When the sun set and the
night once more cast its shade over the earth, there was no cessation
in the sound of battle.

The next morning I visited the wounded in the C.C.S., and in the
afternoon went by car once more to the 7th Siege Battery and thence
made my way through Maroc to the front, as I had heard from the General
that the artillery were having a hard time. Their guns had been firing
incessantly since the barrage started. I met many men on the journey
who gave me accounts of their experiences during the battle, and, by
the time I reached the Y.M.C.A. coffee-stall in a ruined building on
the Maroc-Loos road it was quite late. Here in a cellar I found some
men making coffee for the walking wounded, who were coming back very
tired and glad of a shelter and a hot drink. I went on down the road
to the well concealed trenches which led to the 1st and 2nd Artillery
Brigade Headquarters