The Sergeant
then carried on; the men were standing easy by their horses waiting for
the word. In these days, when a battle is on, the men are always ready
for the word at a moment's notice, with their horses fully harnessed,
nothing being removed from the animals except the bit to enable them to
take their feed from the bag, and in no case is an ammunition wagon left
without its guard; at night when the guard would lie down to snatch an
hour's sleep, another one was there ready to carry on. "Prepare to
mount! Mount! Walk--march! Trot!" yelled the Sergeant in quick
succession, each command being executed with clock-like exactness, and
they trotted from under cover of the trees where they were concealed
from the airplanes and proceeded rapidly up the road under shell fire,
bumping and stumbling along.
I was guide for the party. We passed through Breeland, but could not
make the best kind of speed as the traffic was terribly congested. On
the left hand side of the road long lines of ambulances bearing wounded
men were going down, stretcher bearers were carrying their suffering
burdens and wounded men who were able to walk were making their way
around and through the wagons as best they could, among them being men
from every branch of the Imperial service, together with French and
Algerians; on the other side of the road supply wagons of all
descriptions were going forward.
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