to the Brigade, reached us, they were filled with the wrong ammunition. Under fire, they had to be emptied and refilled with the right ammunit- ion, by hand. (Our guns were of the old pattern used in the Great War and needed a special ammunition. ()ther units had some of the later model which took the ordinary rifle—bullet: hence the bungle of the belts.) It was late evening when our guns came into action, not too late to save the day, but too late to win it.

So, from morning to dusk, it was a battle between our riflemen and a numerically superior enemy, well--equipped with automatic rifles, ma- chine-guns, artillery and tanks. From Battalion Headquarters we could see it in panorama in front. We did 11ot know who was on our left; our men had instructions to watch that flank well.

Through the woods, beyond the road on our right, We caught glimp- ses of the Franco—Belge who were being llard-pressed. Our battery of artillery limbered up and went back. Soon, we knew the F ranco-Belge Battalion had gone back too, for from the woods in which they had been came machine-gun fire which sprinkled Battalion Headquarters and our right flank on Conical Hill. Soon these machine-guns came nearer, until, occupying a knoll 500 yards to the right of Conical Hill, they began

to enfilade our men there. Meanwhile the Fascist frontal attack on_

that Hill (Which was manned mainly by our No. 1 Company) and on White House Hill intensified, and artillery came into action against us.

For hours, the unequal combat raged. The close—range fire of Fa- scist light machine-guns and heavier guns firing over their heads was more intense than any the veterans among us had experienced. “Worse than the Somme” was the opinion of men who had survived that battle.

Grass fell in swathes before it; men lifting their heads to fire were shot _

through the face. At one poi11t the Moors were only thirty yards away. At Battalion Headquarters there was, for hours, no news from the

Companies. Later we discovered why. A message had gone direct

form the Brigade, the runner «missing Battalion Headquarters, telling the men to “hold on at all costs”. They were holding on. And the evidence of our eyes actually misled us «as to casualties. A false impres- sion was given us by the steady behaviour of the men, by the fewness of the wounded who where «coming back, by thesight of officers moving about almost casually in the hail of bullets and shells.

The direct route from Banttalion Headquarters to the line was swept by machine—gun fire and few runners got through it. In the afternoon, from White House Hill, a runner came to ask for reinforcements. He was told that his Commander could, if he felt it necessary, retire to the ridge which Battalion Headquarters was now evacuating for a new position on the sunken road. He asked for a definite order, “for they’ll

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