Once again came disillusionment, for here were the Guards’ Brigade entrenching themselves for the night.  Apparently there had been very severe fighting around Etreux, which had resulted in a check to the enemy, for the moment, at any rate.  The Regiment, however, passed through Etreux, and was eventually ordered to occupy a defensive position around the village of Venerolles.  Darkness fell so suddenly that the Company Commanders had the greatest difficulty in selecting good positions.  Eventually the Subaltern’s Platoon was placed astride a sunken lane, along the edge of an orchard.  The position was a happy one, and since the hedge that stretched along its front was thick and about ten feet high, it seemed safe from surprise.

It was now quite dark, and the men had not had a meal since the few biscuits which had been given out in the early morning.  At last, however, the Regimental Transport was heard creaking up the small lane which led to the position.  Then the trouble began.  The road was dark, deeply rutted and narrow, and crossed by a little stream.  A nervous horse took fright at the running water, dashed up one of the banks, and firmly embedded the water-cart, which he was pulling, in the other, thus effectively blocking the way.

When the Subaltern, having seen everything safe for the night, was returning to report to the Major, he found something akin to confusion in the Transport.  Horses were neighing, backing, plunging, making things worse, as only horses can.  If the Regiment had been attacked that night, and forced to retire, the way was so completely obstructed that it would probably have been annihilated, as the Transport did not get safely away until just before dawn.

He had had no proper food or drink for twenty-four hours, so one can easily imagine how pleased he was to see the Major and the Captain seated around a table in a little hovel of a cottage, just about to demolish some tea and bread and marmalade.

The air was charged with electricity caused by four men nervously awaiting the boiling of the kettle, and trying to conceal their impatience.

“Poor old ——­ must have lost himself,” said the Major, referring to the Senior Subaltern, “or he’d be here by now; he has a wonderful nose for food.”

However, half-way through the meal he came in, admitting that he had lost himself, and wandered into another Regiment’s lines.

After the meal they returned to their Platoons, and spent the usual miserable night in their usual miserable way, cramped by the usual miserable damp.  Next morning the Regiment was moved further out, to the top of the ridge, to protect the retreat of the remaining two Brigades and their Transport Columns.  Luckily the enemy was not in sufficient force to drive this covering party in.