"You had better get out of this," I said, and suiting the action to the word I attempted to run, when another crump burst, this time in the traverse close behind. Well, which of us ran the fastest for cover I don't know, but I was a good second!
The non-appearance of my other man worried me. He was nowhere to be found. It occurred to me that as he did not find me on emerging from his dug-out, and as it was coming on to rain, he had returned to the car thinking he might find me there. Packing up my camera, therefore, I started off, passing more prisoners on the way. I promptly collared two of them to carry my tripod and camera, and as we proceeded I could not restrain a smile at the sight of two German prisoners hurrying along with my outfit, and a grinning Tommy with his inevitable cigarette between his lips, and a bayonet at the ready, coming up behind. It was too funny for words.
When I reached the car my lost man was not there. I enquired of several battle-police and stretcher-bearers if they had seen a man of his description wandering about, and carrying a leather case, but nobody had seen him. After having a sandwich, I decided to go again to the front line to find him. I could not leave him there. I must find out something definite. On my way down I made further enquiries, but without result. I searched around those trenches until I was soaked to the skin and fagged out, but not a trace of him could I discover; not even my camera or pieces of it. The only thing that could have happened, I thought, was that he had got into a dug-out, and the entrance had been blown in by heavy shell-fire.
Retracing my steps I examined several smashed dug-outs. It was impossible to even attempt to lift the rubble. With gloomy thoughts I returned again to the car, and on my journey back left instructions with various men to report anything found to the town major at ——. I stayed the night in the vicinity in the hope of receiving news; but not a scrap came through. Again next day, and the next, I hunted the trenches, unsuccessfully, and finally I came to the conclusion that he had been killed and decided to post him as missing. I had arrived at this decision whilst resting on the grass at the top of Becourt Wood and was making a meal of bully and biscuits when, looking up, I saw what I took to be an apparition of my missing man walking along the road and carrying a black case. I could scarcely believe my eyes.
"Where the devil have you been?" I asked. "I was just on my way back to post you as missing. What has happened?"
"Well, sir, it was like this. When that shell burst I dived into a dug-out, and was quite all right. Then another shell burst and struck the entrance, smashing it in. I have been all this time trying to get out. Then I lost my way and—well, sir, here I am. But your camera case is spoilt." So ended his adventure.
Thinking that the films I had obtained of the Somme fighting should be given to the public as quickly as possible, I suggested to G.H.Q.—and they fully agreed—that I should return to England without delay. So packing up my belongings I returned to London next day.
Little time was lost in developing and printing the pictures, and the Military authorities, recognising what a splendid record they presented of "The Great Push," had copies prepared without delay for exhibition throughout the length and breadth of the land; in our Dependencies over seas, and in neutral countries. They were handled with wonderful celerity by Mr. Will Jury, a member of the War Office Committee, and put out through the business organisation over which he so ably presides. It is sufficient here to record the deep and abiding impression created by the appearance of the films on the screen. People crowded the theatres to see the pictures; thousands were turned away; and it has been estimated that the number of those who have seen these Official War Films must run into many millions.
