itself there was no one. Half-way up the Ciry hill, a sort of dry
watercourse, I ran into some cavalry and learnt that the Germans were
holding the Aisne in unexpected strength. I had all but ridden round and
in front of our own cavalry outposts.

Two miles farther back I found Huggie and one of our brigades. We had a
bit of bully and biscuit under cover of a haystack, then we borrowed
some glasses and watched bodies of Germans on the hills the other side
of the Aisne. It was raining very fast. There was no decent cover, so we
sat on the leeward side of a mound of sand.

When we awoke the sun was setting gorgeously. Away to the west in the
direction of Soissons there was a tremendous cannonade. On the hills
opposite little points of flame showed that the Germans were replying.
On our right some infantry were slowly advancing in extended order
through a dripping turnip-field.

The Battle of the Aisne had begun.

We were wondering what to do when we were commandeered to take a message
down that precipitous hill of Ciry to some cavalry. It was now quite
dark and still raining. We had no carbide, and my carburetter had
jibbed, so we decided to stop at Ciry for the night. At the inn we found
many drinks--particularly some wonderful cherry brandy--and a friendly
motor-cyclist who told us of a billet that an officer was probably going
to leave. We went there. Our host was an old soldier, so, after his wife
had hung up what clothes we dared take off to dry by a red-hot stove, he
gave us some supper of stewed game and red wine, then made us cunning
beds with straw, pillows, and blankets. Too tired to thank him we
dropped asleep.