Now the Signal Office was established in the booking-office of Beuvry Station.  The little narrow room was packed full of operators and vibrant with buzz and click.  The Signal Clerk sat at a table in a tiny room just off the booking-office.  Orderlies would rush in with messages, and the Clerk would instantly decide whether to send them over the wire, by push-cyclist, or by despatch rider.  Again, he dealt with all messages that came in over the wire.  Copies of these messages were filed.  This was our tape; from them we learned the news.  We were not supposed to read them, but, as we often found that they contained information which was invaluable to despatch riders, we always looked through them and each passed on what he had found to the others.  The Signal Clerk might not know where a certain unit was at a given moment.  We knew, because we had put together information that we had gathered in the course of our rides and information which—­though the Clerk might think it unimportant—­supplemented or completed or verified what we had already obtained.

So the history of this partially successful attack was known to us.  Every few minutes one of us went into the Signal Office and read the messages.  When the order came for us to pack up, we had already made our preparations, for Divisional Headquarters, the brain controlling the actions of seventeen thousand men, must never be left in a position of danger.  And wounded were pouring into the Field Ambulances.

The enemy had made a violent attack, preluded by heavy shelling, on the left of the 15th, and what I think was a holding attack on the right.  Violaines had been stormed, and the Cheshires had been driven, still grimly fighting, to beyond the Rue de Marais.  The Norfolks on their right and the K.O.S.B.’s on their left had been compelled to draw back their line with heavy loss, for their flanks had been uncovered by the retreat of the Cheshires.

The Germans stopped a moment to consolidate their gains.  This gave us time to throw a couple of battalions against them.  After desperate fighting Rue de Marais was retaken and some sort of line established.  What was left of the Cheshires gradually rallied in Festubert.

This German success, together with a later success against the 3rd Division, that resulted in our evacuation of Neuve Chapelle, compelled us to withdraw and readjust our line.  This second line was not so defensible as the first.  Until we were relieved the Germans battered at it with gunnery all day and attacks all night.  How we managed to hold it is utterly beyond my understanding.  The men were dog-tired.  Few of the old officers were left, and they were “done to the world.”  Never did the Fighting Fifth more deserve the name.  It fought dully and instinctively, like a boxer who, after receiving heavy punishment, just manages to keep himself from being knocked out until the call of time.