through the woods towards the bridge. Working his way back, he reported
the matter personally to the Brigadier of the 13th, who sent the famous
message to the Division.

It appears that the Germans had come down to fill their water-carts that
night, and to guard against a surprise attack had pushed forward two
platoons across the bridge into the drain. Unfortunately one of our
patrols disobeyed its orders that night and patrolled a forbidden
stretch of road. The officer shot two of these men in the dark.

Three days later the outpost company on Vesle bridge of the Aisne was
surrounded, and, later still, Condé bridge passed out of our artillery
control, and was finally crossed by the Germans.

I have written of this famous scare of Condé bridge in detail, not
because it was characteristic, but because it was exceptional. It is the
only scare we ever had in our Division, and amongst those who were on
the Aisne, and are still with the Division, it has become a phrase for
encouragement--"Only another Condé."

During the first days on this monotonous river, the days when we
attacked, the staff of our right brigade advanced for a time into open
country and took cover behind the right haystack of three. To this
brigade Huggie took a message early one morning, and continued to take
messages throughout the day because--this was his excuse--he knew the
road. It was not until several months later that I gathered by chance
what had happened on that day, for Huggie, quite the best despatch rider
in our Division, would always thwart my journalistic curiosity by
refusing resolutely to talk about himself. The rest of us swopped yarns
of an evening.