I made a big detour to avoid showing myself on the sky-line. I knew
the general direction of our Brigade Headquarters, and after half-an-
hour's steady trudging with various creepings and crawlings I arrived
and delivered my message. I returned quickly towards Pear-tree Gully.
I stopped once to listen for the "Pop-pop-pop!" of our machine-gun but
I could not hear it. I hurried on. It was downhill most of the way
going back. I crept up through the bushes and looked about for signs
of our men and the officer.

I saw a man of the machine-gun section carrying the tripod-stand,
followed by another with the ammunition-belt-box.

"Seen any Medical Corps here?"

"They've gone down--'ooked it . . . you'd better get out o' this quick
yourself--we're retreating--can't 'old this place no'ow--too 'ot!"

"Did the officer leave any message?"

"No--they've bin gone some time--come on, Sammy."

Well, I thought to myself, this IS nice. So I went down with the
machine-gunners and in the dead grass just below the gully I found a
wounded man: he was shot through the thigh and it had gone clean
through both legs.

He was bleeding to death quickly, for it had ripped both arteries.
Looking round I saw another man coming down, hopping along but very
cheerful.