"Fall in there! Fall in," he kept yelling, and goodness alone knows what he meant by it. But he put them out of business all right, and I sort of rounded them up from the little shell hole where I lay; and in a way they did fall in, in a cluster, lying on the ground. They were docile enough, mostly stunned; and I'd my revolver in my left hand, you see. And then my lads cleaned out the dug-outs, mostly using German bombs."

The speaker was one of the most war-worn in appearance among the last of the wounded to land. He was much graver than the average, too. The reason, I think, was that he had tasted captivity.

"I was past walking when they got me; and the rifle had been smashed in my hand, and had no stock left," he said. "No, they don't get our boys, putting their hands up, asking for it; not much they don't. And in that sort of scrapping you don't hardly get the wounded prisoners any other way. There was fourteen of us altogether, and I was the only one from our own battalion. The others were different regiments, it was when the troopers got Communion back again, you know, sir; and they got us before we could get away." 