We had not gone three hundred yards before the Germans fired on us. We were between two farmhouses. We were only about thirty to forty yards off, and we didn’t half give it them. We could hear the wounded Germans moaning and groaning, and it was awful to hear. It was dark, and we fired low because we knew that was the best way to get them. Just then a piece of shrapnel came through the peak of my cap and grazed my nose. It was a near thing, but I took no notice of it and kept on firing. The man next to me was then shot dead, and our captain was shot slightly in the head, but he continued to give orders. A piece of my boot was blown away, and I received a piece of shrapnel in my right shoulder, and consequently saw no more of the fighting: _Pte. Brayshaw, Guards Brigade_.
Half the horses of L Battery Royal Artillery got smashed, and we had to bung our poor old tired ones to fill up. Only a few gunners were left, but they stood by firing still and singing “Onward, Christian Soldiers.” Then the Germans charged, and our gunners did a bunk, but not before they had driven spikes into the guns so as to make them useless to the enemy. They said they guessed they would get them back in a day or two, and if they did they could repair them easy enough. The Germans don’t know these tricks, and we can do them down any time: _A Driver of the 4th Ammunition Column_.
I was given a map, and a message for my company officer. When I had made my way in the dark to where the outpost should have been, I found it had retired. I went to where I saw a picket posted, and noticed a body of men. It was just getting light, and I thought I saw an English officer. I put down my rifle and whistled. They immediately dropped down and fired at me. I dropped into the grass, too, to bluff them into thinking I had been “winged.” I crawled through a big turnip field, and heard a general action commencing. I could hear people talking, but not loudly enough to know whether they were English. So I hoisted my cap upon a stick and called, “Hullo, West Kent!” Then shots came in my direction, and, as it was getting lighter, I decided, as the best thing to do, to make for our big guns. I crawled along the ground for nearly two hours, and when I stopped for a short rest a bullet hit my right arm: _Corpl. Drinkwater, West Kent Regiment_.