We had not gone three hundred yards before the Germans fired on us. We
were between two farmhouses. We were only about thirty to forty yards
off, and we didn’t half give it them. We could hear the wounded Germans
moaning and groaning, and it was awful to hear. It was dark, and we
fired low because we knew that was the best way to get them. Just then
a piece of shrapnel came through the peak of my cap and grazed my nose.
It was a near thing, but I took no notice of it and kept on firing. The
man next to me was then shot dead, and our captain was shot slightly
in the head, but he continued to give orders. A piece of my boot was
blown away, and I received a piece of shrapnel in my right shoulder,
and consequently saw no more of the fighting: _Pte. Brayshaw, Guards
Brigade_.