though packed like sardines, and with three-quarters of an hour's rest at Rouen for coffee, and another rest at Amiens—where we heard that poor General Grierson, our Corps Commander, was dead—broke a blood-vessel in the train—we arrived at Busigny at 2.15 P.M. Here we found Captain Hyslop[5] (Dorsets), who had been sent ahead from Belfast, and who gave us orders to detrain at Le Cateau, a few miles farther on. I must say that all these disembarking and training arrangements were extraordinarily well done, and reflected great credit on the Allied staffs combined. No hitch, no fuss, no worry, everybody got their orders in time, and all necessary arrangements had been carefully thought out beforehand.

We arrived at Le Cateau at 3.10 P.M., and detrained in half an hour, baggage and all. The battalions marched off to their billets,—Dorsets and Headquarters to Ors, the other three battalions to Pommereuil: nice clean little villages both of them.

When about halfway out to Ors—I was riding on ahead of the Brigade with only Weatherby—we were met by a motor bikist with a cypher telegram for me. This stumped us completely, as, not yet having reported to the Division, we had not yet received the local field cypher-word; so, seeing a car approaching with some "brass hats" in it, I rode across the road and stopped it, with a view to getting the key. To my horror, Sir John French and Sir A. Murray descended from the car and demanded to know why I had stopped them. I explained and apologised, and they were very pleasant about it; but on looking at the wire they said that I could disregard it, as they knew what it was about, and it was of no particular importance by this time; so we pursued our way in peace.

The billeting had already been done for us by our (5th) Divisional Staff, and we found no difficulty in shaking down.

I was billeted on a small elderly lady of the name of Madame W——, who was kindness itself, and placed herself and her house at our disposal; but I regret to say that when our men, in search of firewood, picked up some old bits of plank lying about in the garden, she at first made a shocking fuss, tried to make out that it was a whole timber stack of new wood, and demanded fifty francs compensation. She eventually took two francs and was quite content.

Here it was that Saint André joined us, having been cast off by the 5th Divisional Staff at Landrecies as a superfluous interpreter. Looking like an ordinary French subaltern with a pince-nez, he was in fact a Protestant pastor from Tours, son of the Vicomte de Saint André, very intelligent and "cultured," with a great sense of humour and extremely keen. I really cannot speak too highly of him, for he was a most useful addition to the Staff. In billeting and requisitioning, and in all matters requiring tact in connection with the inhabitants or the French Army, he was invaluable. I used him later as A.D.C. in action, and as Officier de liaison with the French troops. I don't know what his knowledge of divinity may have been, but if it was anything like equal to his military knowledge it must have been considerable. He had studied theology at Edinburgh, and his English was very fluent, luckily untouched by a Scottish accent. He was always bubbling over with vitality and go, and plunged into English with the recklessness of his race; when he couldn't express himself clearly he invented words which were the joy of the Mess,—"pilliate," "whizzle," "contemporative," and dozens of others that I can't remember; and what used to charm us particularly was that he so often went out of his way to put the accent on the wrong syllable, such as in bilyétting, brígade, áttack, ambassádor, &c. He was, indeed, a great acquisition to the Brigade.[6]

Aug. 19th.

Next morning I rode across to have a look at the other battalions. The transport horses of the Cheshires were perhaps not all they might have been, but it was the particular stamp of Derry horse that was at fault, and not the battalion arrangements. Otherwise we were ready for the fray.

Aug. 20th.

We had arrived on the Tuesday (18th), and on the Thursday Sir C. Fergusson (commanding 5th Division) paraded the Brigade by battalions and made them a short speech, telling us we were to move on the morrow, and giving us a few technical tips about the Germans and how to meet their various wiles, largely about machine-guns and their methods of attack in large numbers. The Bedfords were the most interested audience, and interrupted him every now and then with "'Ear, 'ear," and a little handclapping at important points. I think the General was a little nonplussed at this attention: I know I was. Whether it was due or not to the audience being accustomed to attending political meetings at home, or to the air of Bedfordshire being extremely vitalising I don't know, but once or twice afterwards when the battalion was addressed by General Smith Dorrien,[7] and even by Sir J. French, they showed their approbation in the manner above set forth—somewhat to my confusion.

Aug. 21st.

Next day we moved off early. I already found myself overburdened with kit—although I had not even as much as the regulation 150 lb.—and I left a camp-bed and a thick waistcoat and various odds and ends behind in Madame W——'s cupboard, under the firm belief that I might at some future period send for it if I wanted it. Alas! the Germans have now been at Ors for close on three years.

A hot march of about fifteen miles brought us to Gommignies. Stragglers, I regret to say, were already many—all of them reservists, who had not carried a pack for years. They had every intention of keeping up, of course, but simply could not. I talked to several of them and urged them along, but the answer was always the same—"Oh, I'll get along all right, sir, after a bit of rest; but I ain't accustomed to carrying a big weight like this on a hot day," and their scarlet streaming faces certainly bore out their views. To do them justice, they practically all did turn up. I was afraid that, in spite of great care and the numerous orders I had issued about the fitting and greasing of new boots, it was the boots which were at fault; but it was not so, except in a very few cases.

Our billeting parties had, of course, been sent ahead and started on their work. It was naturally quite new work to them, and it took a lot of time at first—two and three hours—before the men were settled. Nowadays it takes half an hour, or at most an hour, as everybody knows his job, and also takes what is given him at once,