s for the batteries," observed the colonel. "I'd send that
out." The brigade-major also informed us that British cavalry were
reported to be at Roulers, north-east of Ypres--but that wasn't
official. "Anyhow," said the colonel, his face glowing, "it shows the
right spirit. Yes, I think the war will be over by Christmas after
all."

"It would be great to be home by Christmas, sir," put in Hubbard.

"Yes," responded the colonel in the same vein, "but it wouldn't be so
bad even out here.... I don't think any of us would really mind
staying another six months if we had no 5.9's to worry us." And he
settled down to writing his daily letter home.

October came in with every one joyously expectant. The enemy still
struggled to hold the most valuable high ground on the far side of the
canal, but there was little doubt that he purposed a monster
withdrawal--and our batteries did their best to quicken his decision. The
brigade-major departed for a Senior Staff Course in England, and Major
"Pat" of our sister brigade, a highly efficient and extremely popular
officer, who, with no previous knowledge of soldiering, had won deserved
distinction, filled his place. Major "Pat" was a disciple of cheering
news for the batteries. "This has just come in by the wireless," he
telephoned to me on October 2nd. "Turkey surrendered--British ships
sailing through the Dardanelles--Lille being evacuated--British
bluejackets landed at Ostend."

"Is that official?" I asked wonderingly.

He laughed. "No, I didn't say that.... It's a wireless report."

"Not waggon line?" I went on.

He laughed again. "No, I'll let you know when it becomes official."

Formal intimation was to hand that Dumble, Judd, Bob Pottinger, young
Beale, Stenson, and Tincler had been awarded the Military Cross, and
Major Veasey the D.S.O. Drysdale was happy because, after many times of
asking, he had got back from headquarters, Patrick, the black charger
that he had ridden early in 1916.

The tide of success rolled on. A swift little attack on the morning of
October 3rd took the infantry we were supporting, now that our own
battalions had withdrawn for a fortnight's rest, on to valuable high
ground east of the canal. "They met with such little opposition that
our barrage became merely an escort," was the way in which Beadle, who
was doing F.O.O., described the advance. Surrendering Germans poured
back in such numbers that dozens of them walked unattended to the
prisoner