We were then ordered to "Stand Down" (take cover), as the fire was getting hotter each second and it had all the appearance of being a wipe-out. I ordered my crew to beat it for the dugout, staying behind a moment or two to set the sight and fasten the lanyard to blow up the gun if needed. They started out of the gun pit, taking the turn to the right, along the path to the dugout, which was fairly well sheltered by big trees. I finished my work in a minute or two and took the turn to the left. When I reached the dugout the O.C. inquired where the men were.
"They ought to be here, sir; they left ahead of me. I will go at once and find them."
"I'll go with you." And we started through the trees. The dugout was only about forty yards in the rear of the gun pit and half way there we came across my crew lying underneath a huge tree, dead. It had been rooted from the ground, hurled in the air with the same ease as a toy balloon and dropped on the men. The hole torn in the ground at the root was big enough to swallow a horse and cart. Of the five members of my crew four were dead; the remaining man, Bill Clark, had fourteen wounds in one side of his body from splinters of the tree.
I took him to the dressing station, where his wounds were dressed. As soon as he recovered consciousness he asked what had happened, and when I told him that his pals, including his bosom chum, Jim Chandler, had all been killed, he again lapsed into unconsciousness. He was later taken to the hospital, where, after a nine-months' battle with the Grim Reaper hovering constantly over his bed, he at last regained some of his old-time health. But he will never again be on the firing line.
Every man was now weary, sore and thirsty, and my only grateful recollection of that day's work was the O.C.'s command that we be given an extra ration of rum. I am not a constitutional advocate of the brew that glistens like gold, but that was one time when I thanked the good Lord for that drink.
Information was conveyed to the wagon lines of the terrible toll that had been exacted that day and the number of men that were needed to replace the casualties. Our parson, hearing what was going on in front, volunteered to come and officiate at the burial of the men that night, and mounting his horse he started in company with Archie Meehan and a small relief party.
In the meantime I had made my way back to the cellar of the château, which we were using for a dugout, and the battery to our rear, an Imperial battery, was firing when it received an "S.O.S." Suddenly a German airplane hovered over the château, describing a half circle behind the Imperial battery, spotting its flash, and immediately wirelessing the location. Our observers, who were stationed at points on either side, did not notice the manipulation of the airplane at the rear of the battery. The "S.O.S." was accompanied by a burst of stars from the Imperial British Infantry, the signal working its way down right into the Canadian lines, where the ammunition was rapidly becoming exhausted.
On account of the trees partially obscuring the flash of the guns of the Imperial battery, the airship that the battery in the château saw did not convey the exact information to the German batteries, and when they opened up on the château, chunks out of the building and trees and a general ripping up ensued, but their fire did not reach the battery. In all my experience at the front, in three years, I have never known at one time in one spot such a devastating fire as they put over at that particular time. There were over seven batteries—forty guns—ranging from 3 inch to 8 inch, constantly trip-hammering on the building, and the earth trembled and quivered as though in the throes of an earthquake.
Another gun of our Canadian battery of four guns was here put out of action, leaving two guns out of the six. From off my gun we had removed the fallen tree, enabling us to get it into action again. At this time we were receiving the fire from the German batteries on the left rear, left, front and right, leaving only our right rear free from the destruction which was being waged on every other outlet.
Then we gathered up every shell on which we could lay hands,—shells that had been discarded as defective, and rammed them in the guns as fast as our arms and hands would work. At that moment the German airplane returned, flying low and turning his machine gun upon us. We sniped at him with our rifles, but failed to get him.