started up my engine another shell burst about 100 yards
to the left, and a moment later a big waggon drawn by two maddened
horses came dashing down into the main street. They could not turn, so
went straight into the wall of a house opposite. There was a dull crash
and a squirming heap piled up at the edge of the road.

I pushed through the traffic a little and came upon a captain and a
subaltern making their way desperately back. I do not know who they
were, but I heard a scrap of what they said--

"We must get back for it," said the captain.

"We shall never return," replied the subaltern gravely.

"It doesn't matter," said the captain.

"It doesn't matter," echoed the subaltern.

But I do not think the gun could have been saved.

About six of us collected in a little bunch at the side of the road. On
our left we saw a line of infantry running. The road itself was
impassable. So we determined to strike off to the right. I led the way,
and though we had not the remotest conception whether we should meet
British or German, we eventually found our way to 2nd Corps H.Q.

I have only a dim remembrance of what happened there. I went into the
signal-office and reported that, so far as I knew, the 5th Division was
in flight along the Reumont-Saint-Quentin road.

The sergeant in charge of the 2nd Corps Motor-cyclists offered us some
hard-boiled eggs and put me in charge of our lot. Then off we went, and
hitting the main road just ahead of our muddled column, halted at the
desolate little village of Estrees.

It now began to rain.

Soon the column came pouring past, so miserably and so slowly,--lorries,
transport, guns, limbers, small batches of infantrymen, crowds of
stragglers. All were cursing the French, for right through the battle we
had expected the French to come up on our right wing. There had been a
whole corps of cavalry a few miles away, but in reply to our urgent
request for help their general had reported that his horses were too
tired. How we cursed them and cursed them.

After a weary hour's wait our subaltern came up, and, at my request,
sent me to look for the captain. I found him about two miles this side
of Reumont, endeavouring vainly to make some sort of ordered procession
out of the almost comically patchwork medley. Later I heard that the
last four hundred yards of the column had been shelled to destruction as
it was leaving Reumont, and a tale is told--probably without truth--of
an offic