farmhouse where a company had made its billet and mud-coloured knots of
soldiers stood round braziers of glowing coals. We had some parley with
the company commander, who was of the earth earthy. His words were few
and discouraging. As we crawled on, darkness enveloped us, but we dared
not light our head-lamps. Suddenly the car slipped on the greasy road,
staggered, and lurched over into the morass, hurling us violently upon
our sides. We clambered out and contemplated it solemnly as we saw our
right wheels over the axles in mud. No friendly billet was now in sight,
and as we stood profanely considering our plight the darkness behind us
was split by a long shaft of greenish light, and the whole landscape was
illuminated with a pallid glow, as the German star-shells discharged
themselves over the fan-like tops of the elms silhouetted against the
sky. The jack was useless in the soft mud, it sank like a stone, and as
we shoved and cursed we awaited each fresh discharge of the star-shells
with increasing apprehension, for we presented an obvious target to the
enemy's snipers. On the seat of the car was my despatch-box, and in that
box was a little dossier of papers marked "O.H.M.S. German Atrocities.
Secret and Confidential." "If the Germans catch us there'll be one
atrocity the more," remarked my Staff Officer grimly, "but they'll spare
us the labour of recording it."

Our futile efforts were interrupted by the sound of feet upon the
causeway as a column of reliefs loomed up out of the darkness. A hurried
altercation in low tones, a subdued word of command, and a dozen men,
their rifles and entrenching tools slung over their shoulders, applied
themselves to the back of our car, and slowly it slithered out of the
mud. The column broke into file to allow us to pass, my companion went
on ahead with a tiny electric torch to show the way, and with infinite
caution we nudged slowly along the rank, the faint light of the torch
bringing face after face out of the darkness into _chiaroscuro_, faces