smear of brick-dust with a big notice-board on top, saying, 'THIS IS
LE SARS,' or 'POZIÈRES,' or whatever its name was. Anyway, in this
village I found a Divisional H.Q., four Brigade H.Q.'s, and oddities
of all sorts sitting one on top of t'other waiting for the next thing
to happen. The next thing was a single wounded lancer who happened in
about four in the morning with the glad tidings that Bosch tanks were
advancing on us". Questioned further he admitted that he had
only actually seen one and that in the dark. But it was the
great-grandfather of all tanks, according to the chap; it stood twenty
foot high; it 'roared and rumbled' in its career, and it careered by
steam.

"It wasn't any manner of use assuring him that there wasn't a steam
tank on anybody's front. He said there was, and we couldn't move him.

"'I saw steam coming from it in clouds,' be mumbled, 'and sparks and
smoke.' Then he crumpled slowly on the floor, fast asleep.

"The Divisional General was properly mystified.

"'If only I had a single field-gun or even some gelignite,' he
groaned; then turning to me, 'I must get the strength of this; it
may be some new frightfulness the Hun is springing. You're an old
horse-soldier, I believe? Well, jump on your gee and go scout the
thing, will you?'

"I scratched together a rag and bobtail patrol of grooms and pushed
off just before daybreak. Our people had the edge of the village
manned with every rifle they could collect. A subaltern lying ear to
earth hailed me as I passed. 'It's coming,' he called.