reserve, extended our line on the second day to Frameries. The Cyclists
were reconnoitring north of the Canal.

The roads round Dour were of the very worst _pavé_, and, if this were
not enough, the few maps we had between us were useless. The villages of
Waasmes, Paturages, and Frameries were in the midst of such a network
of roads that the map could not possibly be clear. If the country had
been flat, we might at least have found our way by landmarks. It was
not. The roads wandered round great slag-heaps, lost themselves in
little valleys, ran into pits and groups of buildings. Each one tried to
be exactly like all its fellows. Without a map to get from Elouges to
Frameries was like asking an American to make his way from Richmond Park
to Denmark Hill.

About ten o'clock on the morning of August 23rd I was sent out to find
General Gleichen, who was reported somewhere near Waasmes. I went over
nightmare roads, uneven cobbles with great pits in them. I found him,
and was told by him to tell the General that the position was
unfortunate owing to a weak salient. We had already heard guns, but on
my way back I heard a distant crash, and looked round to find that a
shell had burst half a mile away on a slag-heap, between Dour and
myself. With my heart thumping against my ribs I opened the throttle,
until I was jumping at 40 m.p.h. from cobble to cobble. Then, realising
that I was in far greater danger of breaking my neck than of being shot,
I pulled myself together and slowed down to proceed sedately home.

The second time I went out to General Gleichen I found him a little
farther back from his former position. This time he was on the railway.
While I was waiting for a reply we had an excellent view of German guns
endeavouring to bring down one of our aeroplanes. So little did we know