Quietly getting my camera into position, I started exposing, being certain this was the opening of the attack. I was not mistaken, for within a few minutes the advance guard came hurrying up in the distance; the attack was about to begin. Suddenly the French guns opened fire; they were concealed some distance in the rear. Shells then went at it thick and fast, shrieking one after the other overhead.
The advance guard opened out, clambered up the dunes, and disappeared over the top, I filming them. I waited until the supporting column came up, and filmed them also. I followed them up and over the dunes. Deploying along the top, they spread out about six metres apart, with the object of deceiving the Germans as to their numbers, until the supporting column reached them. The battle of musketry then rang out. Cautiously advancing with a company, I filmed them take the offensive and make for a large dune forty yards ahead. Successfully reaching it they lay down and fired in rapid succession. Crawling up, I managed to take a fine scene of the attack, showing the explosion of two French shells over the ruins of the town. The Germans evidently found our range, for several shells came whistling unpleasantly near me.
What followed was a succession of scenes, showing the covering columns advancing and others moving round on the flank. The Germans lost very heavily in this engagement, and great progress was made by the gallant French. While filming a section of the flanking party, I had the nearest acquaintance with a shell that I shall ever wish for. I don't think it would have been the good fortune of many to have such an experience and come scathless out of it.
I was kneeling filming the scene, when I heard a shell hurtling in my direction. Knowing that if I moved I might as likely run into it as not, I remained where I was, still operating my camera, when an explosion occurred just behind me, which sounded as if the earth itself had cracked. The concussion threw me with terrific force head over heels into the sand. The explosion seemed to cause a vacuum in the air for some distance around, for try as I would I could not get my breath. I lay gasping and struggling like a drowning man for what seemed an interminable length of time, although it could have only been a few seconds.
At last I pulled round; my first thought was for my camera. I saw it a short distance away, half buried in the sand. Picking it up, I was greatly relieved to find it uninjured, but choked with sand round the lens, which I quickly cleared. The impression on my body, caused by the concussion of the exploding shell, seemed as if the whole of one side of me had been struck with something soft, yet with such terrible force that I felt it all over at the same moment. That is the best way I can describe it, and I assure you I don't wish for a second interview. Noticing some blood upon my hand, I found a small wound on the knuckle. Whether or no it was caused by a small splinter from the shell, I cannot say; in all probability it was, for I do not think striking the soft sand would have caused it.
Turning back, I made for the sea road, and filmed the reserves coming up to strengthen the positions already won. Hurrying across in the direction of another column, I filmed them steadily advancing, while their comrades kept the Germans employed from the top of a large dune. The main body then came up and lined the top for a considerable distance, and at the word of command the whole body arose as one man. For the fraction of a second they were strikingly silhouetted against the sky-line; then with a cheer they charged down the other side.
Darkness was now closing in, making it impossible for me to film any further developments, so I proceeded back to the cellar with an officer and some men. After resting awhile, I decided to go back to Furnes that night with my films and get home with them as quickly as possible. Meeting a small transport car going in the desired direction after some stores, I begged a ride, and getting up beside the driver, we started off. Owing to the enormous shell-holes it was impossible to proceed along the road without a light.
What a magnificent sight it was. Magnesium star-shells were continually being sent up by the Germans. They hung in the air alight for about thirty seconds, illuminating the ground like day. When they disappeared the guns flashed out; then the French replied; after that more star-shells; then the guns spoke again, and so it continued. We were suddenly stopped by an officer warning us to put out our lamp immediately, and proceed cautiously for about three hundred yards. While doing so a shell came screaming by. We knew then that the Germans had seen our light. We immediately rushed to a shell-proof shelter in the sand. I had barely reached it when a shell exploded close by the car, half destroying the body of it. That was the only one that came anywhere near. Running to see what damage was done, I was pleased to see, by the aid of a covered light, that the chassis was practically uninjured. So starting up we once more proceeded on our journey.
We had several narrow squeaks in negotiating corners and miniature sand-banks, and once we bumped into a mule that had strayed on to the road—but whether it will do so again I don't know, for after the bump it disappeared in a whirl of sand, making a noise like a myriad of fiends let loose. But the remainder of the journey was uneventful, and after a long night's rest I left for Calais.