"No. 1,079 Lance-Sergeant James Cochrane, M.M., and No. 2,852 Private Frank Hemington: In the enemy lines west of Bourlon Wood there was a derelict tank, from which enemy snipers were very active at only 70 yards from our line, causing many casualties.
"On December 1, Lance-Sergeant Cochrane and Private Hemington volunteered to deal with them. Creeping out through our wire, they succeeded in reaching the tank in spite of heavy enemy fire. They put two Mills' bombs into the tank, and on the bombs exploding they came under heavy machine-gun fire, but returned in safety. No further sniping came from this tank. By their gallant work we were saved many casualties, and this daring feat cheered and encouraged the men in the line...."
In the desperate fighting in March, 1918, the Battalion also distinguished itself.
"Hexham Road," says the narrative of the morning of the 25th, "where the headquarters of the 23rd Royal Fusiliers was in a dug-out, had been swept by machine-gun fire all the morning, and as the Divisions on the right had retired, the 23rd Royal Fusiliers were left in a very precarious and isolated position, from which only small bodies of men were able to extricate themselves...."
Then, however, came March 28, and here our men were afforded an opportunity of getting their own back. It is with delight that we consequently read:
"The old trenches were, on the whole, in surprisingly good condition, the men had ammunition and had had some sleep and food, and orders had been received that this was to be the line of resistance, and that there would be no further retirement.
"It was a day of anxiety, but still a day on which our men could at last settle down to shooting down the enemy. This they did with great relish."
Bald, perhaps, these details may appear to those who have judged the war from the pen pictures of the various war correspondents, but they possess the ring of real reality to those who have known what it is to be shelled day after day and night after night in the trenches, to have advanced in the face of a rain of machine-gun bullets, or to have been forced to take shelter in an all too small shell crater, when to show an inch of head or body meant death or a serious wound.