Towards evening a general engagement took place, and there was very heavy shelling. Several shells struck the house, but none of us were injured. On the following morning I was called to an advanced outpost of the Scots Guards, to bury Sergeant Wilson, of Lord Esmé Gordon's Company. On reaching the line I found the Battalion about to advance into action in extended order, and the man had been hurriedly buried. On my way back I joined Captain Hamilton Wedderburn, Adjutant, who had been ordered to the rear suffering from appendicitis. I had met this officer's father, Colonel Hamilton, who resided in my neighbourhood at home.
During the night several wounded men came in, and the large salon presented a weird appearance as the doctors attended the suffering men. No cooking was allowed, and all windows were carefully curtained, in order not to draw the fire of the enemy, who were in very unpleasant proximity to the house. I well remember next morning, because the Germans had got the range to a nicety, and the otherwise enjoyable place was rendered unbearable by the crash of shells. So unhealthy grew the position, that the transport was moved a mile away; but we who composed the tent section remained to deal with any men who were brought in. It is astonishing how quickly one grows accustomed to 'fire,' and a very short experience enabled us to go about our work, under risky circumstances, in the most ordinary manner.
The nights at this time were very dark, and at several points we could see burning farm homesteads and villages, which to the thoughtful mind denoted the awful destruction and suffering envolved by the ghastly outrage upon humanity, being perpetrated by the enemy.
We left the château very suddenly, owing to heavy shelling. Some of our men were hit, and two of our 'mess' had horses killed under them, but otherwise we managed to get clear from a decidedly dangerous position. That night it was pitch dark, and we halted on the roadside, some two or three miles west of Gheluvelt. It was pouring with rain as we ate our meal of cold rations; we could not even enjoy a comforting smoke, as the lighting of a match would have been certain to draw the fire of our vigilant foe. Mr. Jaffray and I both agreed that a night's lodging in a damp ditch was hardly consonant with our wishes, and therefore we set out for the hamlet of Halte, where the railway crosses the road, in hopes that we might find cover of some sort.
Leading our horses very cautiously along the road, for sentinels were posted in every direction, and at such 'nervy' times men frequently fire before they challenge, we made our way to a small estaminet which we found crammed with French soldiers. I pleaded hard for even a chair, but the proprietor assured me of the impossibility of offering even this very slender hospitality. I was fortunate to meet MacKenzie, the Transport officer of the Scots Guards, who introduced me to a French officer, who in turn interested the landlady's daughter in our forlorn condition. This kind angel of mercy informed me that her married sister lived at a farm near by, and she thought that there was a bedroom that Mr. Jaffray and I might make use of. Accordingly, holding my reins in one hand and my fair guide's hand in the other, I was led through pitch darkness for some distance, and presently found myself in a huge Belgian farm kitchen, crammed with French soldiers and smelling horribly of garlic. Yes! the farmer could let us have his bedroom for the night, at a small remuneration, as he and his wife had decided to stay up; accordingly, we were shown into an exceedingly small room, some eight feet square, in which was a bed the covering of which made one shudder to look at; but any port in a storm; and we accordingly doubled up the best way we could on a bed some two feet too short for us. As we vainly tried to fall asleep, my batman suddenly turned up,—how he found our quarters will always be a mystery to me—with the news that the column had moved off to some place which he could not pronounce. I showed him my map and asked him if he recognized any name in the locality, but finding that he was as much at sea as to the destination of the unit as I was, I determined that it was useless to attempt to explore that part of Belgium in the darkness of a soaking night; so stowing my servant away in the corner of the kitchen, we did our best to get a few hours' sleep. In the first grey of the dawn we arose and ate a little black bread and very salt bacon, washed down with some execrable coffee, then leading our horses out of the cowhouse in which we had installed them the night before, and from which we had had to turn out a couple of very evil-smelling beasts, we sallied forth to the apparently hopeless task of discovering the direction in which the column had moved. One's deductive faculty had to be drawn upon largely. Presently we found ourselves at Zillebeke, where we were held up by the Northumberland Hussars, who came by in splendid order on their way to entering action. Standing by my side was a Staff officer who had dismounted from his car, awaiting the passage of the cavalry. I explained to him our difficulty, and he said that he rather thought our unit was with the 10th Hussars at Zandvoorde, some four miles away, and very kindly offered me a lift. My horse had contracted a terrible cold and was hardly fit to ride, so placing him in charge of my batman, I arranged to drive on in the car, leaving Mr. Jaffray and my servant to follow. The friendly officer turned out to be Lord Nairne, who was, unfortunately, killed a few days afterwards.
On reaching the village of Zandvoorde, I encountered a terrible sight. The enemy was approaching from two sides, and shelling hard. The place was a slaughter-house; never have I seen so ghastly a sight. The doctors, with their coats off and shirt sleeves rolled up, looked more like butchers than medical men, and for an hour or two I found my hands full in the saddest of all work, dealing with dying men.
As I was eating a hasty breakfast—for in campaigning one learns the value of sleeping and eating whenever a chance presents itself—the O.C. came to me saying that some one must get through to Ypres, to stop the transport that was about to come out, and also to warn the major of the serious condition of affairs at Zandvoorde. Would I go? Such an opportunity of doing 'a real bit' only comes now and again, therefore it was not difficult to decide.
I had a foretaste of what I was presently to pass through, as, sitting on the doorstep of a cottage, I was changing into riding boots, out of the heavy Swiss climbing boots that I had been wearing, and which threatened to be awkward in the stirrups, if by any chance I was thrown, a not unlikely event under fire, when a shrapnel burst some twenty feet from me, with an explosion which almost lifted me from the ground. The door before which I sat, and the front of the cottage, were liberally studded with bullets and pieces of the casing, but in a most providential manner I was untouched. Very quickly I completed my change of boots, and got my kit-bag once more stowed away in a transport wagon. Strictest orders had been given that no kits were to be removed from the wagon, and I hope that the O.C., if ever he discovers my delinquency, will take into consideration the urgency of my desire to fulfil instructions in the carrying of his orders into Ypres.
For three miles, right over 'Hill 60,' I had the ride of my life. Shells were bursting in every direction, but my good horse struggled on gamely. By this time he had come to know the import of the shrieking whistle which betokens the approach of a shell, but he displayed no more concern than a momentary quiver as it burst. As for me I could only place myself in God's hands, and well remember how, as each shell approached, I repeated that comforting word from Isaiah xxvi. 3, 'Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace whose mind is stayed on thee, because he trusteth in thee.' Over and over again I repeated 'because he trusteth in thee.' And then bang! bang! and once more the danger was past.
The road was crowded with terrified people, literally fleeing for their lives, and as I got out of the range of fire, I tried to comfort them in the best way I could.