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fought for about three hours near Villers-Cotterets I think it was, but I was getting very mixed about things, even mixed about the days of the week. Fifteen men in my company were killed, one in a rather peculiar fashion. He was bending down, handing me a piece of sausage, and a bullet ricochetted off a man’s boot and went straight into his mouth and out of the top of his head.
    We got on to the, road about 200 yards only in front of a German brigade, and then ran like hell for about a mile, until we passed through the South Staffs Regiment, who were entrenched each side of the road. I believe about six of the battalion were captured. Still we marched on until dusk, then on outpost again, and during the night the South Staffs passed through us.
    September 2nd
– At 2 a.m. we moved off, and marched all day long. It was hot and dusty and the roads were rotten, but, as we got mixed up with hundreds of refugees, we were obliged to keep better marching order. About 6 p.m., to 8 p.m. we reached Meaux – I believe we did about twenty-five miles that day, but no fighting. We bivouacked outside Meaux, but I went into the cathedral when we halted near it, and thought it was very beautiful. Also I saw some of the largest tomatoes I have ever seen in my life, growing in a garden. I was rounding up stragglers most of the night until 1 a.m. and at 3 a.m. we moved off again.
    September 3rd
– The first four or five hours we did without a single halt or rest, as we had to cross a bridge over the Aisne before the R.E.s blew it up. It was the most terrible march I have ever done. Men were falling down like ninepins. They would fall flat on their faces on the road, while the rest of us staggered round them, as we couldn’t lift our feet high enough to step over them, and, as for picking them up, that was impossible, as to bend meant to fall. What happened to them, God only knows. An aeroplane was following us most of the time dropping iron darts: we fired at it a couple of times, but soon lost the strength required for that. About 9 a.m. we halted by a river, and immediately two fellows threw themselves into it. Nobody, from sheer fatigue, was able to save them, although one sergeant made an attempt, and was nearly drowned himself. I, like a fool, took my boots off, and found my feet were covered with blood. I could find no sores or cuts, so I thought I must have sweated blood.
    As I couldn’t get my boots on again I cut the sides away, and when we started marching again; my feet hurt like hell.
    We marched till about 3 p.m. – nothing else, just march, march, march. I kept repeating my line, ‘If you can, force, etc.’ Why, I didn’t know. A sergeant irritated everyone who could hear him by continually shouting out: ‘Stick it, lads. We’re making history.’
    The Colonel offered me a ride on his horse, but I refused, and then wished I hadn’t, as anything was preferable to the continuous marching.
    We got right back that afternoon among the refugees again. They were even worse off than we were, or, at least, they looked it. We gave the kids our biscuits and “bully,” hoping that would help them a little; but they looked so dazed and tired there did not seem to be much hope for them.
    At 8 p.m. we bivouacked in a field and slept till dawn. Ye gods! what a relief.
    September 4th
– I was sent with six men on outpost to a small wood on our left front, and I had not posted the sentries more than half an hour, before an officer found two of them asleep. The poor fellows were afterwards tried by courts martial and shot.
    About 3 p.m., we all moved off again, and came into action almost immediately, although I believe it was a food convoy that was mistaken for German artillery by our artillery.
    Anyway no one I knew was hurt. It was said, however, that Jerry rushed his troops along after us in lorries.
    All through the night we marched, rocking about on our feet from the want of sleep, and falling fast asleep even if the halt