nerve-racking heavy shelling had upset our chaps pretty
badly. Many of them sobbed. To see and hear a man sob is
terrible, almost as terrible as some of the wounds I have
seen--and they have been very awful. However, as quite a
number of the men had only recently come out, it was natural
enough that we should be upset by this ordeal. Time and
repeated experiences of this kind toughen if they do not
harden a man--but for many this was the first experience.

"Early the next morning the whole battalion made a move
nearer to the Hill. For the greater part of the day we stood
to in dug-outs on the side of the railway embankment, but at
dusk we lined up and received instructions as to the work we
had to do that night and the following day. Our officers
told us that we were going to the Hill to hold off all
counter-attacks, and that if any man on the way up was
wounded no one was to stay with him. He must be left to wait
for the stretcher-bearers. Every man would be needed for
the coming struggle, and although it seemed almost _too_
hard that one must see his chum struck down and be unable to
stop and bind up his wounds, there was no doubt that the
order was very necessary.

"We started off in single file by platoons. This time we did
not go up the cutting, but made our way round by the
reservoir and the dilapidated village of Zillebeke. The
first man to go down was one of my own section. We
remembered the order not to stop, although the temptation
was very strong. So we left him, wishing him the best of
luck and hoping that he would soon be in Blighty. After this