About three in the afternoon, just as our artillery had got up ready
to cover us, the Germans found our range with artillery, and down came
the “coal-boxes.” Near me was lying our brave captain mortally wounded,
and as the shells burst he would occasionally open his eyes and call
out--but ’twas very weak--“Stick it, Welsh, stick it.” Many of the
wounded managed to crawl up and down the firing line “dishing out”
ammunition we were unable to use, so our brave lads stuck at it until
our artillery got into action and put “paid” to the enemy’s account.
We had won! The “contemptible little army,” are we? We made them eat
their words. Out in that field were strewn thousands of German dead and
wounded. They even piled them up and made barricades of their dead.
Toward dusk, though we were still exposed to terrible shell fire,
several of our lads volunteered to collect the wounded. Many got hit
in doing so. Captain Haggard died that evening, his last words being,
“Stick it, Welsh!” He died as he had lived--an officer and a gentleman:
_Pte. C. Derry, Welsh Regiment_.