I looked into their faces; our eyes met. I understood; I could trust them; they could trust me.
"That's all; return to your platoons and prepare to move."
They had not uttered a word through all this; no words were necessary. They jumped to their feet; saluted as though we were back on Salisbury Plain, and the next moment ran along the parados to their platoons.
I watched them, and saw them kneel down on the top of their trench, indifferent to the snipers' bullets whistling about their heads, hurriedly explaining the situation to their men.
By 3 P.M. the men were ready and had closed along the trench to the wood.
The movement had been seen by the enemy, and a terrific burst of firing commenced; although, at the time I could not see what effect it was having.
I waited several minutes, but there was no further movement along the trench to indicate that the first platoon had entered the wood. I sent forward the message, "Carry on," but still no movement resulted.
At last, feeling something was wrong and unable to restrain my impatience any longer, I jumped out of the trench and ran along the parados.
What I saw there appalled me for the moment; the wood in front of me was filled with bursting shells; a continuous pr-r-r-r-r seemed to be moving backward and forward, and bullets were whistling in all directions.
Good God! what a hell! No wonder the men hesitated! What was to be done? My orders left me no alternative. I must advance through the wood. My brain kept repeating the words, "At any cost!" What a cost it would be to enter that hell! It was now, or never!