In connection with this attack I was sent with a message for the Devons.  It was the blackest of black nights and I was riding without a light.  Twice I ran into the ditch, and finally I piled up myself and my bicycle on a heap of stones lying by the side of the road.  I did not 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 and broke through.  They had been heavily reinforced and our tentative offensive had been replaced by a stern and anxious defensive.