As the infantry advanced, the pioneers and engineers followed, digging trenches, extending tramways, and keeping the lines of communication clear.  No pen, however facile, could give the true lines to the picture.  Ordinary language is inadequate to express all that was achieved, seen, and felt.  The men did splendidly.  The respective work of the several services was perfectly co-ordinated, so much so that after the ‘stunt’ it seemed as if a mutual admiration society had been spontaneously organized.  The infantry congratulated the Flying Corps, the Flying Corps complimented the Artillery, and both Artillery and Flying Corps were loud in their praise of the dauntless Infantry.  All did their part, and the taking of Messines will probably be chronicled as one of the greatest, if not the greatest, of battles in connexion with this world-war.

Prior to this engagement the Third Division had experienced but a sprinkling of fire, but during its progress it received its baptism, and emerged from the battle with a reputation of which any unit might be proud.  It was a stupendous task, a severe test for the ‘baby’ Division, but every man rose to the occasion.  The wounded were cheerful, the dead died gloriously, and those of us who are alive and remain are proud to have had some part in such an important and eminently successful undertaking.

There were many acts of heroism, some of which have been officially recognized.  The Australians have the utmost contempt for the enemy as fighting men.  They declare that if the artillery and air-craft were eliminated they would be prepared to give the enemy the benefit of odds in hand-to-hand fighting.

One instance will suffice to illustrate their indomitable spirit.  While the ‘push’ was in progress, a man who, in his own words, had ‘stopped one,’ was carried to an R.A.P.  His wounds were numerous and rather serious.  Two fingers of the left hand had been blown off, his right arm was shattered, his head and neck were much cut about, and blood oozed from wounds on his chest.  This man had got a ‘Blighty,’ but he did not appear to be at all pleased.  It should be stated that the men who receive wounds sufficiently serious to warrant their being sent to hospitals in England are considered, and consider themselves, very fortunate.  He was disappointed because he was wounded, not that he complained about his disfigurement or the pain.  I expressed my sympathy and wished him a speedy recovery and a happy time in ‘Blighty,’ and suggested that possibly there would be no need for him to return, for the Hun might soon be driven out from Belgium.  He eyed me unflinchingly, and endeavoured to raise himself on his uninjured elbow, and then blurted out, ’It is just as well for the ——­ Huns that I got wounded.’  These were not the exact words he used.  There were many accompanying adjectives, without which the vocabulary of the Australian would be very limited indeed.  This big-hearted, whole-souled, hefty ‘Westralian’ seemed to think that the issue to that particular ‘push’ depended absolutely upon him.