Shortly after midnight on 14th September Haig mustered his 2nd Infantry Brigade, which was billeted in the village of Moulins,[127] about a mile to the south of Troyon. Rain fell at intervals, and heavy mist made the dark night still darker. Silently the battalions of the King's Royal Rifles, the Royal Sussex, the Northamptonshire, and the Loyal North Lancashire regiments, with the 25th Artillery Brigade, took their places, and waited for the word of command. The German position which they were about to assault was the strongest along the whole line. The enemy had dug deep trenches and gun pits, and the ranges were well known, so that a fierce struggle might be expected. Both sides were on the watch, and every now and then the crack of rifles and the screech of shells broke the silence, while searchlights from the heights swept the scene. Brigadier-General Bulfin, who was in command, had sent out a patrol of officers to discover the position and strength of the enemy. Shortly before 3 a.m. it returned, and reported that the enemy was strongly posted near a sugar factory to the north of Troyon.
Then the word was given, and the King's Royal Rifles and the Royal Sussex Regiment moved forward in silence. There was no talking in the ranks; the orders were given in whispers, and were quickly passed along the line. Everything depended on taking the enemy by surprise. As the British moved on in dead silence there was a sudden sharp cry of pain. A stray shot had hit a man in the arm, and he could not repress a cry. But the brave fellow silenced his moans immediately by thrusting a piece of turf between his teeth. He held it there until he was sufficiently recovered to crawl back to his own lines.
The German outposts were now reached. The British moved rapidly forward, and soon drew near to the factory near which the Germans were posted. They were met by a fierce fire from the factory and from the guns in the entrenchments near at hand. Our men flung themselves to the ground, and began creeping forward, taking cover with great skill. It was a scene worthy of the brush of Rembrandt.[128] Away on the left rose the dusky heights; in front the factory loomed darkly against the sky; from windows and loopholes came thin sparks of flame; all around were wooded slopes wrapped in gloom. Along the British front the darkness was relieved by flashes of light from the rifles of the widely-extended infantry. From the distant trenches came the thunder of guns. All the time a light rain was falling, and a soaking mist made the darkness more obscure.