damage my
bicycle. That was enough. I left it and walked.

When I got to Cuinchy bridge I found that the Devon headquarters had
shifted. Beyond that the sentry knew nothing. Luckily I met a Devon
officer who was bringing up ammunition. We searched the surrounding
cottages for men with knowledge, and at last discovered that the Devons
had moved farther along the canal in the direction of La Bassee. So we
set out along the tow-path, past a house that was burning fiercely
enough to make us conspicuous.

We felt our way about a quarter of a mile and stopped, because we were
getting near the Germans. Indeed we could hear the rumble of their
transport crossing the La Bassee bridge. We turned back, and a few yards
nearer home some one coughed high up the bank on our right. We found the
cough to be a sentry, and behind the sentry were the Devons.

The attack, as you know, was held up on the line
Cuinchy-Givenchy-Violaines; we advanced our headquarters to a house just
opposite the inn by which the road to Givenchy turns off. It was not
very safe, but the only shell that burst anywhere near the house itself
did nothing but wound a little girl in the leg.

On the previous day I had ridden to Violaines at dawn to draw a plan of
the Cheshires' trenches for the general. I strolled out by the sugar
factory, and had a good look at the red houses of La Bassee. Half an
hour later a patrol went out to explore the sugar factory. They did not
return. It seems that the factory was full of machine-guns. I had not
been fired upon, because the Germans did not wish to give their position
away sooner than was necessary.

A day or two later I had the happiness of avenging my potential death.
First I took orders to a battery of 6-inch howitzers at the Rue de
Marais to knock the factory to pieces, then I carried an observing
officer to some haystacks by Violaines, from which he could get a good
view of the factory. Finally I watched with supreme satisfaction the
demolition of the factory, and with regretful joy the slaughter of the
few Germans who, escaping, scuttled for shelter in some trenches just
behind and on either side of the factory.

I left the 15th Brigade with regret, and the regret I felt would have
been deeper if I had known what was going to happen to the brigade. I
was given interesting work and made comfortable. No despatch rider could
wish for more.

Not long after I had returned from the 15th Brigade, the Germans
attacked