I bagged his megaphone and hopped up the steps to the platform.  At last I saw a chance of first-class cover, for with Archie’s coat and cap I made a very good appearance as a movie-merchant.  Two waves had gone over the top, and the cinema-men, working like beavers, had filmed the lot.  But there was still a fair amount of troops to play with, and I determined to tangle up that outfit so that the fellows who were after me would have better things to think about.

My advantage was that I knew how to command men.  I could see that my opposite number with the megaphone was helpless, for the mistake which had swept my man into a shell-hole had reduced him to impotence.  The troops seemed to be mainly in charge of N.C.O.s (I could imagine that the officers would try to shirk this business), and an N.C.O. is the most literal creature on earth.  So with my megaphone I proceeded to change the battle order.

I brought up the third wave to the front trenches.  In about three minutes the men had recognized the professional touch and were moving smartly to my orders.  They thought it was part of the show, and the obedient cameras clicked at everything that came into their orbit.  My aim was to deploy the troops on too narrow a front so that they were bound to fan outward, and I had to be quick about it, for I didn’t know when the hapless movie-merchant might be retrieved from the battle-field and dispute my authority.

It takes a long time to straighten a thing out, but it does not take long to tangle it, especially when the thing is so delicate a machine as disciplined troops.  In about eight minutes I had produced chaos.  The flanks spread out, in spite of all the shepherding of the N.C.O.s, and the fringe engulfed the photographers.  The cameras on their little platforms went down like ninepins.  It was solemn to see the startled face of a photographer, taken unawares, supplicating the purposeful infantry, before he was swept off his feet into speechlessness.

It was no place for me to linger in, so I chucked away the megaphone and got mixed up with the tail of the third wave.  I was swept on and came to anchor in the enemy trenches, where I found, as I expected, my profane and breathless predecessor, the movie-merchant.  I had nothing to say to him, so I stuck to the trench till it ended against the slope of the hill.

On that flank, delirious with excitement, stood a knot of boy scouts.  My business was to get to Bradfield as quick as my legs would take me, and as inconspicuously as the gods would permit.  Unhappily I was far too great an object of interest to that nursery of heroes.  Every boy scout is an amateur detective and hungry for knowledge.  I was followed by several, who plied me with questions, and were told that I was off to Bradfield to hurry up part of the cinema outfit.  It sounded lame enough, for that cinema outfit was already past praying for.

We reached the road and against a stone wall stood several bicycles.  I selected one and prepared to mount.