A private of the London Scottish thus describes his experiences during the fighting at Messines on Halloween[114] and the following day:—
"We roused out at 4 a.m., and spent the morning wandering about from wood to wood, being followed by aeroplanes—beastly things. Finally, we entered a village, and a spy in a windmill gave them the range, and we had our first shells—horrible 'coal boxes,' and then shrapnel. We lost five men wounded there; then we went on, and finally extended to open order, and the battalion attacked up a valley, and we had to lie in a gutter about two feet deep along a road with poplars. There we stuck for two and a half hours, getting shelled all the time. It was dreadful. The big 'coal boxes' kept shaking the ground and covering us with dirt. I got a bit of shrapnel through my pack, and had my things spoilt, but wasn't touched.
"Then we had to advance across a field about a quarter-mile under fire, and get into a deserted trench. There we stopped till dark, still being shelled, and hearing the regiment snapping away in the distance. At dusk we made another trench, and seven of us went into it. There we had a fine time—moonlight, and Germans only 200 yards off. We could spot them through the glasses, and made very good practice; some of them crept down a hedge to twenty yards, but we did them in. You could hear them all talking; and twice they came on in force, but we beat them off, and they left any amount on the ground.
"Finally, at 12.45, they came on five or six deep, singing their national anthem, and walking quite slowly. Not liking German music, we gave them rapid fire; but they were too many. At last the cavalry had to hop it on both sides of us, and we ran like hares for our main trench; there we were thirty-two, and had the Germans in front, left, and rear five or six deep. There were thousands of them, all creeping up, and bullets everywhere. We all thought it was U P. I even took off my overcoat so as to be freer for the bayonet.
"Then they lit a farm, and the black smoke from the wet thatch blew across our front. They were only fifty yards away, still creeping; so we dashed out to the right, and all got through except six. Then we got separated, and nine of us, including our lieutenant, had to wander round, with one shot through the back, looking for the regiment or British troops. We kept running into shell fire and rifle fire, but finally got to a village, and found some officers at 4.45, very tired; there we reported, and went to join a cavalry regiment about two miles off. We had only had one biscuit and jam since the previous breakfast, except some lozenges. Well, for breakfast we had to attack the same village we had been driven out of the day before. It was most exciting—shells and bullets everywhere.
"Then we got mixed up with the Germans, and got the order to clear the houses with the bayonet. That was great sport; no shells, and only scrapping in a decent sort of way. We took four prisoners and scuppered the rest of them, about 200; then we were just examining the slain for pistols and other handy little souvenirs, when the shrapnel started again all among us. It was very hot, and we had to hop the twig behind a big bank; we were all laughing and joking. . . . One bullet turned my bonnet round on my head, and I sat down in the mud, and I got one through my kilt.
"Finally, they came behind one of our trenches in kilts, and said, 'Schotlant for effer and London Schottish;' but a volley put an end to that. At last the French arrived in force, and we had a stand easy, and were sent back for a rest. I am longing for another dig at them; it is the finest excitement going. One thing we have done—no more sneering at 'Terriers' out here by the Tommies; they are all very proud of us now, and somehow we feel different now that we have been through the hoop."
