ing fire. Then we all dropped down and kept the Fascists from rush- 
ing Hinks and his comrades. 
No one knows how Hinks did it, but he got those men out some way 
or other, and without serious losses. But it was dusk before he and we 
met, and we had practically given him up for lost. Meanwhile, with 
Hinks away, we had no machine-guns. Our men fought like Trojans, 
firing their rifles, and using those of the wounded alternately, in order 
to keep the guns cool. 
We had many wounded, but our ambulance party was reduced to
two men and one mule. We just had to fight it out there, to give the 
stretcher-cases a chance to be carried off, and to allow the walking 
wounded sufficient time to get back. 
We were greatly helped by the work of Comrade Captain Dart of 
the American Battalion who had come to our help that afternoon. He 
was coolness personified, and his example encouraged the men. Our 
danger was that we would be outflanked, as we were now realising that 
we were virtually the rearguard for a general retirement on the sector. 
We had no flanks. Our force was too small to cover much territory. 
Luck came our way when we found two machine-gunners, one Ger- 
man, the other French. We put one on each flank. At 6 p.m. a Com- 
pany of Moors tried to cut us off on the right flank. The German gun- 
ner mowed them down in heaps. We moved back to another hill. This 
time the attack was on our left, and the French gunner did his bit. Now 
we were being heavily pressed all round; the Moors knew our numbers. 
It was perilous work steering our little band back, trying to ensure ma- 
ximum cover, stopping every few yards to engage the enemy and keep 
his fire down. But we made it, and arrived eventually at good cover 
behind a long hill-crest. 
Here were some French comrades with a machine-gun, determined 
to give a good account of themselves. Where they could go we could 
follow! Staggering like drunken men, drenched with the blood of our 
own dead and wounded, streaming with sweat, voiceless for lack of wa- 
ter, we straggled up and took up position on the crest. 
The Fascists were shelling heavily. Two ambulances and a water- 
wagon were hit before our eyes. A motor-lorry was pressed into service 
as an ambulance, and went away, heavily-laden. Joe Hinks came up 
as dusk was falling. We had given him up for dead. When we got 
together it felt like old times — nearly! At nightfall we advanced slight- 
ly to better positions and with leaden arms began to dig in. Luckily the 
Labour Corps turned up to help. Ben Richardson came back from a 
“scrounge”, with food and Spanish wine. Heavens! that wine would

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