lines,--the Empire batteries had opened up on them. These batteries
derived their name from the fact that they were comprised of Australian
guns, South African guns, guns from New Zealand, Canada, Scotland,
England, in fact every part of the Empire was represented. For a time
they smothered the German batteries in Sanctuary Woods. Then a flock of
German airplanes flew over these guns and smothered them partially for a
few minutes with their machine guns. This entire action had lasted an
hour, and at this moment the little relief party, accompanied by our
parson, arrived from the wagon lines. Again we were out of ammunition,
and the O.C. asked me if I would volunteer to go to the wagon lines
after it. "Yes, sir,"--and I mounted the parson's horse and started.

Although it had now started raining, I left the dugout with nothing on
but pants, shirt and boots; I had no gas helmet, no coat, no cap, no
puttees,--there was no time to be lost--and I was covered with grease
and dirt, and must easily have looked like an African.

I had scarcely started when a shell lifted a tree out of its roots and
threw it on the road right in front of me, but the horse cleared it with
a jump. I passed a dressing station and the sight was unspeakably sad;
laid in rows as thickly as they could be placed, the wounded men in all
stages of agony were patiently waiting their turn,--ah, God! how patient
those men were,--and scattered here and there on both sides of the road
were groups of men who had just begun their last sleep, and at sight of
them the horse would shy and balk every few yards. I had no spurs with
which to control the animal, and my work was cut out for me! he was an
ideal parson's horse, for the brute would hardly go faster than a walk.
Getting through the gas barrage, I came to a camouflage hedge, used to
screen and protect the traffic on the road, which sheltered me for four
or five hundred yards further, and then I emerged again into the open,