Death was everywhere. The air was thick with it. To have lifted my head would have meant the billet for a bullet. So there I had to lie soaked through to the skin, and before I had been there twenty minutes I was literally lying in water. The German fusillade seemed interminable. Suddenly with a roar the Belgian guns spoke. About fifty shells were fired, and gradually the rifle-fire ceased. With a sigh of relief I drew myself out of the hole which my body had made, and on my elbows and knees, like a baby crawling, I covered the intervening ground to the battery. Getting up, and bending nearly double, I ran under cover of the barricades.
The men were astounded to see me run in. I went in the direction of a group of officers, who looked at me in amazement. Saluting me, one of them came forward and asked who I wanted. Explaining my business, I told him I had permission from headquarters to film any scenes of interest. The officer then introduced me to his friends, who asked me how in the world I had crossed the district without getting hit. I described my movements, and they all agreed that I was exceedingly lucky.
Once more the guns started, so getting my camera ready I commenced filming them in action, one scene after another. I changed from the firing of one gun to the full battery in action. The men were working like mad. All the time they were baling water out of the gun trenches with buckets. In some cases after the gun had fired it sank back about eighteen inches in the mud, and had to be dug out and set again. These poor devils had been doing this for nearly four months, every man of them was a hero.
While taking these scenes, my compressed air cylinders ran out. Looking round for somewhere solid on which to put my machine and foot-pump, I found some bricks, and made a little foundation. Then I started to pump up. At every six strokes of the pump, it was necessary to pack under it more bricks, and still more, for the ground was a veritable morass. In the ordinary way my camera takes ten minutes to refill. On this occasion it took me forty-five minutes, and all the time guns were thundering out.
Making my way in a semi-circle, under cover of the communication trenches, to the most advanced outpost, I filmed a party of Belgian snipers hard at work, cheerfully sniping off any German unwise enough to show the smallest portion of his head. Several times while I was watching, I noticed one of the men mark upon his rifle with the stub of a pencil. I asked why he did it.
"That, monsieur," he replied, "is a mark for every Bosche I shoot. See," he said, holding the butt-end for me to look at, and I noticed twenty-eight crosses marked upon it. Snatching it up to his shoulder he fired again, and joyfully he added another cross.
By this time it was getting dark, and quite impossible to take any more scenes, so I returned to the battery, where the officer kindly invited me to stay the night. Getting some dry straw from a waterproof bag, we spread it out on the boards of the trench-hut, rolled our blankets round our shoulders, and lighted our cigarettes. Then they asked me about England. They told me that as long as Belgium existed they would never forget what England had done for her people. While talking our candle went out, and as we had no other we sat in the darkness, huddled together to keep warm. Heavy rain again came on, penetrating through the earth roof and soaking into my blanket.
I must have dozed off, for after a little while I awoke with a start and, looking towards the entrance, I noticed a blue-white glare of light. As my companions were getting out, I followed them, in time to see the Germans sending up star-shells, to guard against any attack on our part.
The following day I filmed several scenes connected with the Belgian artillery and outposts. I waited during the remainder of the day to catch, if possible, some scenes of German shells exploding, but again I was doomed to disappointment, for, with the exception of a few at a distance, I was never able to get the close ones in my field of view.
Having exhausted my stock of film, I decided to return to my base, but on bidding adieu to the Commandant he begged me to return under cover of darkness. That night I set out for Furnes, and after walking about an hour, I was lucky enough to get a lift in an ambulance waggon, which set me down in the market-place.