f Corporal King at
the time of his death, and how I escaped is more than I can tell. Again
I couldn't help speculating that my life must have been spared for some
good purpose; I sincerely hope so.

It was impossible to do any further firing, as the muzzle of the gun was
choked completely with the dirt that had been shot backward by the
explosion of our own mine. Our misfortune, however, did not prevent or
deter for a moment the intended movement. Unable to do anything further
as a gunner, I hopped into the charge with the 48th Highlanders of
Toronto, who had just started with one of their old-time yells to go out
and over. When we reached the German front lines,--or what was left of
them, for the explosion had blown from them all semblance of a
trench,--it was jammed full of German troops--dead. On we went,
inclining to the right and reaching an orchard in which was a nest of
them concealed in the trees. Those on mother earth were speedily driven
to hell or made good their escape, and we then attended to the case of
the squirrels in the branches. This was somewhat difficult, as the night
was excessively dark, but our snipers, circling everywhere underneath
them, finally got them; not a single baby-killer escaped; it was a case
of getting limburgers in an apple tree.

No sooner had we cleaned up the job than the Fritzies returned _en
masse_ formation, compelling us to beat a discretionary retreat to their
front-line trenches, where we held and are still holding, and then some.
Here we remained until the middle of the following month.

Some minor engagements took up my duties after Givenchy, until about
September 1, when my battery was instructed to proceed to Ploegsteert.

Ploegsteert sets in ruins about two miles northwest of Armentieres;
there were no buildings that Fritz failed to level with the exception of
the tower, which they used for registry purposes,--a reference point in
artillery technology. We were stationed on this sector for eight months,
and our stay here was more or less of a recreation; battle firing was
only intermittent; and on the days that we did speak to Fritz, we rarely
sent over more than 10 to 12 messages.

Our battery was in a hedge here and we were having our wires cut several
times, causing us considerable trouble and annoyance.

Butler, one of my pals, was started out to make the necessary repairs.
He left on his dangerous mission, crouching along and taking advantage
of every bit of