I ran over twenty in the charge, and could have picked them up everywhere; did pick up one, and was promoted to fourth corporal for gallantry in picking up a flag on the battlefield.
On the final charge that was made, I was shot in the ankle and heel of my foot.

I crawled into their abandoned ditch, which then seemed full and running over with our wounded soldiers.

I dodged behind the embankment to get out of the raking fire that was ripping through the bushes, and tearing up the ground.

Here I felt safe.

The firing raged in front; we could hear the shout of the charge and the clash of battle.