enemy's ambulance stood in the rear of their lines.

I had already ordered the Sixth to take open formation and scatter through the Fifth; and this undoubtedly saved them, for though we lost my aide-de-camp, Thwaites, who was no fighter and nearly fainted, and was jolly glad to be numbered with those out of action, for some time afterwards we lost nobody, and held our own with ease. Once or twice I took a hand, but it wasn't necessary, and when we fairly settled to work, we made them see they couldn't live within fifteen yards of us. They made several rushes, however, but, by a happy strategy, I always directed our fire on the individual when he came in, and thus got two out of action, including Rice. He was a great fighter, and I was surprised he threw up the sponge so soon; but after a regular battering and blinding, he said he'd "got it in the neck," and fell and was put out with one eye bunged. Travers minor also fell, rather to my regret; and what struck me was that, considering all their brag, the Fourth were not such good plucked ones when it came to the business of real war, as we were. It made a difference finishing off Rice, for he had fought well, and his fire was very accurate, as several of us knew to our cost. I felt now that if we could concentrate on Pegram and Blades, who were firing magnificently, the battle would be practically over. But Blades, owing to his great powers, could do execution and still keep out of range. He was, in fact, their seventeen-inch gun, you might say; and though Williams on our side could throw further, he proved in action rather feeble and not a born fighter by any means. As for Pegram, he always seemed to be behind somebody else, which, knowing his character, you would have expected. At last, however, he led a storming party to the slope, and, leaving the bulk of my forces to guard the front, I led seven to stem his attack. For the first time since the beginning of the battle, it was hand-to-hand; but we had the advantage of position, and were never in real danger. I had the great satisfaction of hurling Pegram over the slope into his own lines, and he fell on his shoulder and went down and out. He was led away holding his elbow and also limping; but his loss did not knock the fight out of the Fourth, though in the same charge they lost Preston and we nearly lost Bassett. But he got his second wind and was saved to us, though only for a time, for Blades, who had a private hate of Bassett, came close and scorned the fire, and got three hard ones in on Bassett from three yards; and Fortescue had to say Bassett was done. Blades, however, was also done, and there was a brief armistice while they were taken away.

We now suddenly concentrated on Mitchell, who was tiring and had got into range. I think he was fed up with the battle, for, after a feeble return, he went down when about ten well-directed snowballs took him simultaneously on the face and chest, and then he chucked it and went to the ambulance. At the same moment one of their chaps, called Sutherland, did for Norris. Norris had been getting giddy for some time, and he also feared that he was frost-bitten, and when Sutherland, creeping right under him, got him well between the eyes with a hard one, he was fairly blinded, though very sorry to join our casualties. I had a touch of cramp at the same moment, but it passed off.

We'd had about half an hour now, and five of the ammunition kids were out of action with frozen hands. Then we got one more of the enemy, in the shape of Sutherland, and their moral ought to have begun to get bad; but it did not. Though all their leaders were now down, they stuck it well, while we simply held them with ease, and repelled two more attempts on the slope. In fact, Williams wanted to go down and make a sortie, and get a few more out of action; but this I would not permit for another five minutes, though during those exciting moments we prepared for the sortie, and knocked out Abbott, who, much to my surprise, had fought magnificently and covered himself with glory, though lame. On their side they got MacAndrew, owing to an accident. In fact, he slipped over the edge of the sand-pit, and was taken prisoner before he could get back, and we were sorry to lose him, not so much for his own sake, as because his capture bucked up the Fourth to make fresh efforts.

And then came the critical moment of the battle, and a most unexpected thing happened.

With victory in our grasp, and a decimated opposition, a frightful surprise occurred, and the most unsporting thing was done by the Fourth that you could find in the gory annals of war.

It was really all over, bar victory, and we were rearranging ourselves under a very much weakened fire, when we heard a shout in the woods behind us, and the shout was evidently a signal. For the whole of the Fourth still in action made one simultaneous rush for the slope, and of course we concentrated to fling them back. But then, with a wild shriek, there suddenly burst upon us from the rear the whole of their casualties!

Mitchell and Rice and Pegram came first, followed by Travers minor and Preston and Blades and Sutherland and Abbott. They had rested and refreshed themselves with two lemons and other commissariat, and then, taking a circuitous track from behind their ambulance, had got exactly behind us through the wood. And now, uttering the yells that the regular Tommies always utter when charging, they were on us with frightful impetus, just while we were repelling the frontal attack on the slope, and before we had time to divide to meet them. In fact, they threw the whole weight of a very fine charge on to us and fairly mowed us down. There was about a minute of real fighting on the slope, and blood flowed freely. We got back into the fort, so to say; but the advancing Fourth came back, too, and the casualties took us in the rear. Then, unfortunately for us, I was hurled over the sand-pit, and three chaps--all defenders--came on top of me, and half the snow-bank we had built came on top of them. With the snowbank gone, it was all up. I tried fearfully hard to get back, but of course the Fourth had guarded the slope when they took it, and in about two minutes from the time I fell out of our ruined fortifications, all was over. In fact, the Fourth was now on the top of the sand-pit and the shattered Fifth and Sixth were down below. One by one our men were flung, or fell, over, and then Fortescue advanced from cover with Brown and blew his whistle, and the battle was done.

We appealed; but Pegram said all was fair in war, and Fortescue upheld him; and in a moment of rage I told Pegram and Mitchell they had behaved like dirty Germans, and Mitchell said they might, or they might not, but war was war, anyway. And he also said that the first thing to do in the case of a battle is to win it. And if you win, then what the losers say about your manners and tactics doesn't matter a button, because the rest of civilisation will instantly come over to your side.

And Blades said the Sixth had still a bit to learn about strategy, apparently, and Pegram--showing what he was to a beaten foe--offered to give me some tips!

Mind you, I'm not pretending we were not beaten, because we were; and the victors fought quite as well as we did; but I shall always say that, with another referee than Fortescue, they might have lost on a foul. No doubt they thought it was magnificent, but it certainly wasn't war--at least, not what I call war.

We challenged them to a return battle the next Saturday, and Pegram said, as a rule, you don't have return battles in warfare, but that he should be delighted to lick us again, with other strategies, of which he still had dozens at