corps.

Having distributed the battalions as ordered—I had no Brigade Reserve in hand, having to cover such a broad front (nearly three miles, when my normal front, according to the text-books, should have been about 1000 yards)—myself and Brigade Headquarters were left rather "by our lone." M. and Madame Durez were packing up hard all, and disappeared with their friends and family before dinner in a big motor-car, making in the direction of Bavai St Waast, to the south, where they had friends; as, however, we retired through there next day I don't expect they stayed long, but continued their journey into France. I don't know what became of them. They had been most hospitable, and placed the house and everything in it, even a final dinner, at our disposal; but the poor people were, of course, in a great state of perturbation, and there was not much except the house itself that we could make use of.

As we were finishing dinner further orders arrived from the Division. Weatherby and I cantered down to the Divisional Staff to learn details, and we got them shortly, to the effect that the Cheshires and Norfolks were to be left under direct command of the Divisional Commander, whilst Brigade Headquarters was to be at Pâturages by sunrise on the morrow, and to hold that with our other two battalions on the right.

We "fell in" the Brigade Headquarters about midnight and, after some trouble in securing guides, moved off through a labyrinth of streets in the warm dark. Our guides were local men, and we did not take long to get to Warquignies, in the main street of which we met the Headquarters of the 13th Brigade, minus their Brigadier. Here also were the K.O.S.B.'s in bivouac, acting as Brigade Reserve to their (13th) Brigade. The night was peaceful, and we pushed on after a short rest, getting at dawn to a steep hill which led down into Pâturages.

Aug. 20th.

The latter was a fine big town with paved streets and prosperous-looking houses, very different from the grubby streets of Boussu; but I was troubled about the hill street, as it was very steep and bad and narrow. How we should get the transport up it again in a hurry if it had to retire I did not know, and two eminently respectable inhabitants assured me that there was no other way back unless I went right up to Wasmes—from which direction firing was already beginning—and returned viâ the north. That didn't look healthy for the transport, so I left most of the Brigade transport at the top of the hill and only brought down the Signal section.

At the entrance into Pâturages we found Currie, Cuthbert's (13th Brigade) Brigade Major, but Cuthbert was not there, so it was a little difficult to combine any action. However, we learnt that the other three battalions of the 13th Brigade were distributed in front of us on the north, and I received a message that the Dorsets and Bedfords had been obliged to fall back during the night and were holding the railway station at Wasmes and a bit east of that. The 13th Brigade had been along the line of the Canal the previous day and had been driven back by superior numbers, but had blown up some of the bridges. I heard afterwards that young Pottinger, a subaltern of the 17th Co. R.E., had been entrusted with blowing up one bridge, and that the charge had failed to explode. Whereupon he advanced under heavy fire close to the charge and had gallantly fired his revolver at it, which of course, as he knew, would have blown him sky-high with the bridge had he hit it. But either he missed the shot altogether or he hit the wrong part, and the thing didn't explode. And then he found himself cut off by Germans who had crossed elsewhere, and he had to leg it. So, unfortunately, that bridge was left intact.

I trotted ahead alone to try and find the Dorsets or the Bedfords, leaving Weatherby with other instructions. It was a long way to the station (Pâturages by name, but really in Wasmes), but I eventually found Griffith (O.C. Bedfords) and most of his men thereabouts. The Germans had apparently got round to the east, but we were holding them. The Dorsets were a bit further to the south-east, and I found them after a good many wrong turnings; and then there was little to do but pick up connection with whoever I could. By this time my staff had come up, and Weatherby and I cantered off to find General Haking, who, I understood, had brought up his 5th Brigade from the 2nd Division (1st Corps), and was somewhere towards Frameries. Him we found after some trouble, with only one battalion in action in fairly open country. It appeared that a message had been sent the night before from the 3rd Division that the Germans were threatening Pâturages and going to attack in force, and help was most urgently required; so General Haig had despatched Haking in a great hurry. The 5th Brigade made a forced march and arrived at Pâturages at 2 A.M., perspiring profusely. Not a sound. Fearing an ambush, they walked delicately, with scouts well out in front and to both flanks. Not a sign either of the British or the Germans,—empty streets, no one about, all quiet as death. So they bivouacked in the streets and were now thinking of falling back on their own corps, as there were only a few Germans in front of them and these wouldn't advance.

Where the 3rd Division exactly were I could not at first find out, though I tried; but I knew that they were holding the country in the direction of Mons. Anyway, except for a good many shells flying about, there was very little of the enemy to see or hear, and Pâturages was safe at all events for the present.

The Dorsets and Bedfords, however, had had a pretty bad time on the previous evening, and had lost a number of men, though they had given the Germans a good deal more than they got. The German shelling had been fairly accurate, and their infantry had pushed on between the slag-heaps and got their machine-guns to work under cover in a horribly efficient manner. Eventually our battalions had to evacuate their trenches as their right flank was being turned, and they fell back on Wasmes and Pâturages, leaving most of their packs behind them in the trenches. They had taken them off to dig, and, being hot, had fought without them, and then this sudden outflanking movement had necessitated a rapid falling back, so their packs and most of their shovels had been left behind. This was awkward, more especially hereafter, as, although the loss of the greatcoat did not matter much in this hot weather, and certainly added to their marching power, still, the loss of the pack meant loss of spare socks and spare shirt—besides other things.

We snatched a little breakfast and coffee at an inn where the patronne was still in possession, and then things began to get more lively. Shells