“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 further on; so we might as well try and dash through it.  ’Come along—­advance!’ I shouted, and leapt forward.  I was just stepping over some barbed wire defences—­I think it must have been in front of Schuler Farm (though we had studied the map so thoroughly beforehand, it was impossible to recognize anything in this chaos) when the inevitable happened.  I felt a sharp sting through my leg.  I was hit by a bullet.  So I dashed to the nearest shell-hole which, fortunately, was a very large one, and got my first field dressing on.  Some one helped me with it.  Then they went on, as they were, to their great regret, not hit!  My platoon seemed to have vanished just before I was hit.  Whether they were in shell-holes or whether they were all hit, or whether they had found some passage through the wire, I cannot say.  I only know that, with the exception of Corporal Hopkinson and one or two Lewis Gunners who went forward soon after, they had all vanished.  It was one of the many mysteries of a modern battlefield!  Allen was going on all right:  I saw him going on in front:  I believe he got to Aviatik Farm![13] It was 10.20 a.m. when I was wounded.  I lay in this shell-hole for some time.  When I had been there about half an hour the enemy put down a barrage just on the line which contained my shell-hole!  It was horrible.  I thought I was lost this time.  Shells were bursting all around me, making a horrible row; some of them were almost in the trench.  I was covered with the fumes from one or two of them and also sniffed some gas.  I put on my box-respirator.  One piece of shrapnel hit me on the head, but, fortunately, I had my steel helmet on my head; so I was all right.

“At 11.30 a.m.  I decided that I might just as well be blown to bits in the open, trying to get back to safety, as lying in this shell-hole; so I made a dash for it and got out of the barrage.  I inquired the way to the nearest aid post, and was told that it was a long way off.  But I proceeded in the direction indicated.  Before long I met Corporal Livesey returning from his bombing stunt with about half a dozen prisoners and a shrapnel wound in his back; also another lance-corporal, from D Company, who had been on a similar stunt and was wounded in the ear by a bullet.  Some of the prisoners were also wounded.  So we all walked down together.