from the front, the Australians, for the fifth time, delivered a blow at
the wedge which they have all the while been driving into Thiépval from
the back, along the ridge whose crest runs northwards from Pozières past
Mouquet Farm.

It was a heavy punch this time. I cannot tell of all these fierce
struggles here--they shall be told in full some day. In the earliest
steps towards Mouquet British troops attacked on the Australian flank,
and at least once the fighting which they met with was appallingly
heavy. Victorians, South Australians, New South Welshmen have each dealt
their blow at it. The Australians have been in heavy fighting, almost
daily, for six solid weeks; they started with three of the most terrible
battles that have ever been fought--few people, even here, realise how
heavy that fighting was. Then the tension eased as they struck those
first blows northwards. As they neared Mouquet the resistance increased.
Each of the last five blows has been stiffer to drive. On each occasion
the wedge has been driven a little farther forward. This time the blow
was heavier and the wedge went farther.

The attack was made just as a summer night was reddening into dawn. Away
to the rear over Guillemont--for the Australians were pushing almost in
an opposite direction from the great British attack--the first light of
day glowed angrily on the lower edges of the leaden clouds. You could
faintly distinguish objects a hundred yards away. Our field guns, from
behind the hills, broke suddenly into a tempest of fire, which tore a
curtain of dust from the red shell craters carpeting the ridge. A few
minutes later the bombardment lengthened, and the line of Queenslanders,
Tasmanians and Western Australians rushed for the trenches ahead of
them.