han I have ever seen before. 'Good morning, Floyd; best of
luck!' was the greeting he accorded me as he passed; and I, of course,
returned the good wishes. At about 8.20 Captain Andrews went past me and
wished me good luck; and he then climbed over the parapet to
reconnoitre. The minutes passed by. Everybody was wishing everybody
else good luck, and many were the hopes of 'Blighty' entertained--not
all to be realized. It is a wonderful sensation--counting the minutes on
one's wrist watch as the moment to go over draws nigh. The fingers on my
watch pointed to 8.30, but the first wave of D Company had not gone
over. I do not know what caused the delay. Anyhow, they were climbing
over. Eventually, at 8.40, I got a signal from Dickinson to go on. So
forward we went, platoons in column of route. Could you possibly imagine
what it was like? Shells were bursting everywhere. It was useless to
take any notice where they were falling, because they were falling all
round; they could not be dodged; one had to take one's chance: merely go
forward and leave one's fate to destiny. Thus we advanced, amidst shot
and shell, over fields, trenches, wire, fortifications, roads, ditches
and streams which were simply churned out of all recognition by
shell-fire. The field was strewn with wreckage, with the mangled remains
of men and horses lying all over in a most ghastly fashion--just like
any other battlefield I suppose. Many brave Scottish soldiers were to be
seen dead in kneeling positions, killed just as they were firing on the
enemy. Some German trenches were lined with German dead in that
position. It was hell and slaughter. On we went. About a hundred yards
on my right, slightly in front, I saw Colonel Best-Dunkley complacently
advancing, with a walking stick in his hand, as calmly as if he were
walking across a parade ground. I afterwards heard that when all C
Company officers were knocked out he took command in person of that
Company in the extreme forward line. He was still going strong last I
heard of him.

"We passed through the 166th Brigade. We left St. Julien close on our
left. Suddenly we were rained with bullets from rifles and machine-guns.
We extended. Men were being hit everywhere. My servant, Critchley, was
the first in my platoon to be hit. We lay down flat for a while, as it
was impossible for anyone to survive standing up. Then I determined to
go forward. It was no use sticking here for ever, and we would be wanted
fu