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corporal brought an order to retire. We joined the company again behind the trenches, and learnt that the town we could see was Mons.
    After a while we joined up with the rest of the battalion on the road and went back the same route we covered coming up. All the time there was plenty of firing going on by Givry, and about midday we deployed, and opened fire on a regiment of German cavalry. They dismounted and returned our fire, which was all ‘rapid’) and was telling on them. Then suddenly they mounted and disappeared out of range. We continued marching back for about four hours. Then again we deployed and opened fire on more German cavalry, but this time they kept out of range and eventually moved off altogether.
    My platoon was sent forward to a small village, where we stayed all night firing occasionally at what we hoped were German cavalry.
    August 25th
– We started off about 5 a.m., still retiring, and so far we had had no food since Sunday the 23rd. All day long we marched, and although a lot of firing was going on, we did none of it. About 6.30 p.m. we got to a place called Maroilles, and my platoon spent the night guarding a bridge over a stream. The Germans attacked about 9 p.m. and kept it up all night, but didn’t get into Maroilles.
    About forty-five of the company were killed or wounded, including the company officer. A voice had called out in English, ‘Has anybody got a map?’ and when our C.O. stood up with his map, a German walked up, and shot him with a revolver. The German was killed by a bayonet stab from a private.
    August 26th
– The Germans withdrew at dawn, and soon after we continued retiring, and had not been on the march very long before we saw a French regiment, which showed that all of them had not deserted us.
    We marched all day long, miles and miles it seemed, probably owing to the fact that we had had no sleep at all since Saturday the 22nd, and had had very little food to eat, and. the marching discipline was not good. I myself frequently felt very sick.
    We had a bit of a fight at night, and what made matters worse was that it happened at Venerolles, the village we were billeted in before we went up to Mons. Anyway, the Germans retired from the fight.
    August 27th
– At dawn we started on the march again. I noticed that the
curé
and one old fellow stayed in Venerolles, but all the other inhabitants went the previous night.
    A lot of our men threw away their overcoats while we were on the road to-day, but I kept mine.
    The marching was getting quite disorderly; numbers of men from other regiments were mixed up with us.
    We reached St. Quentin, a nice town, just before dark, but marched straight through, and dug ourselves in on some high ground, with a battery of artillery in line with us. Although we saw plenty of movement in the town the Germans didn’t attack us, neither did we fire on them. During the night a man near me quite suddenly started squealing like a pig, and then jumped out of the trench, ran straight down the hill towards the town, and shot himself through the foot. He was brought in by some artillery-men.
    August 28th
– Again at dawn we started on the march, and during the first halt another fellow shot himself through the foot.
    The roads were in a terrible state, the heat was terrific; there seemed to be very little order about anything, and mixed up with us and wandering about all over the road were refugees, with all sorts of conveyances – prams, trucks, wheelbarrows, and tiny little carts drawn by dogs. They were piled up, with what looked like beds and bedding, and all of them asked us for food, which we could not give them, as we had none ourselves.
    The men were discarding their equipment in a wholesale fashion, in spite of orders to the contrary; also many of them fell out, and rejoined again towards dusk. They had been riding on limbers and wagons, and officers’ chargers, and generally looked worse than those of us who kept going all day. That night