The Doodle Bug.
Why fire on it when it was going back where it came from?
I know it's silly what we remember, some things that really are of no consequence at all, but for some reason we recall everything about that incident, in this case, because it was so bizarre. We were on high ground to the North of the City of Caen, That battle scared area I have always looked on as the ‘Killing Ground’ This was the high ground in front of Caen. Here we we could look out over the channel, the site was incredible, I must admit to just standing looking at the thousands of ships of every description, 11,000 at one time, spread as far as the eye could see, it looked as though it would be possible to walk back to England from ship to ship. I still have a clear picture of that view.

What we saw next was a bit of pure theatre, a Buzz bomb, Doodle bug! came throbbing overhead, heading straight for England, half the battle field, British, Canadian, and German, stopped what they were doing to watch this bit of entertainment, no one fired at it as it winged its way towards England. As it approached the coast, a spitfire dived on it at high speed and tipped its wing, loud cheers from the thousands of ‘Allied’ watchers, it then chugged steadily away, back where it came from, on it's return trip, all of our anti aircraft guns started firing at it. Now, why for heavens sake? Bizarre! Absolutely Bizarre.
Sapper.

Sapper :

You have seen the gun-cam films of the RAF fighters downing these slow machines......correct ? We would of course need several of our UK friends....Martin, Jumbo and others !, to give us the stats of how many were shot down while over the Beaches as well as England. Also the 9th A.F. P-61's were able to intercept over a dozen on missions in August of 44......

good stuff sir !

I actually do have a vague idea what these were for, because I know that we have blue plastic bullets today and I assume that these were used for the same purpose.

Naturally I am merely guessing here, but I assume that these bullets were used for training. Wood or plastic bullets have much worse flight characteristics and are a lethal at much shorter ranges, so these would be (or in the case of plastic bullets are still being) used to train in areas close to habitation. You get the proper recoil and the feel of firing your weapon but the bullet cannot kill somebody a mile away.

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„Solange man nicht mit dem Kopf unterm Arm rumläuft geht es doch noch!" Erwin Rommel

The previous article about the flying bombs may have given the impression that the flying bomb was slow in flight. Not a bit of it, The blasted thing flew so fast that only by diving on it could the Spitfire gain enough speed to catch it…
They could be caught by the very fastest of the later fighter planes. But, God help the pilot that shot it down, for he may well have been carried away with the blast.

The Bloodiest Square Mile in Normandy!
The Chateau de la Londe.

Modern war is not fought by massive lines of troops who line up and advance in the face of withering shell, mortar, and machine gun fire. Having said that, strangely enough, there were times when we went into battle “En-mass” But for the most part, modem war is a series of local, but bloody actions, that are fought out virtually face to face. When one hears of huge losses incurred in battle, the total is usually made up of the casualties from many local actions. 100 here, 200 there, 350 somewhere else. It is the total of local actions that so often make up a large casualty list. There is another factor that one constantly comes across in war, and that is, 500 yards away from a violent and fiercely fought, hand to hand battle, there can appear to be an entirely different war.

What follows; is a description of a very violent, and bloody, hand to hand battle, that became known as the “Bloodiest Square Mile in Normandy” A battle that is still talked about in hushed tones by those survivors who fought there. For this was PURE SAVAGERY, where the combatants were intermingled and fought it out face to face, and to the death.
The Chateau stood fair and square in the centre of Third British Infantry Division’s thrust towards Caen. It had to be taken. What follows are the personal memories of men who took part in that battle. “The Chateau de la Londe” This is what happened
To be continued, bit busy at present!
Sapper

All one can say is: Thank you! Your work here is well appreciated. We are looking forward to hearing more, as this is the kind of information we cannot hear elsewhere, and a chance of changing thoughts with someone who was taking part in operation Overlord and Battle of Normandy is totally "out of range" if compared in value to anything.

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Sapper, can I just say thanks ?

I've been away for a few days and have been 'back-reading' your posts - fascinating stuff !

Just a quick footnote to Erich's question above about V1 shootdowns. As the forum's resident 'Mosquito bore' I'll confirm that Mosquito units alone accounted for 471 flying bombs - mainly over the sea. Sqn Ldr R N Chudleigh DFC of 96 Sqn destroyed 152 ! And that's without the Tempests, Spitfires, etc....

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"Stand by to pull me out of the seat if I get hit" - Guy Gibson

Before Sapper devels into this major battle let me share if I may. The 422nd P-61 night fighter squadron claimed 7 V-1's and 3 damaged. The 425th P-61 night fighter squadron claimed 4 V-1's in August of 44.

Cheers !

EB

Hello, gentlemen und specially mr. Sapper:

My name is Gottfried von Hammerstein und Hartmann, you probably me know because my of my grandson, Friedrich, he show me this writings days ago and i wanted to talk with another veteran, because a liaison of blood and tears we have togeter. i could tell many stories about the war auch, but i dont think it is worth it to relive such horrible things again. it is very good to express myself agin because i havent been able to speak in 57 years and i want this words to mean a reconciliation between veterans and men in both sides. Because we were only young men serving our Vaterland. thanks for read. And mr. Sapper: sorry and regards. God not permit this to hapen again.

Regards.

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"Just a little push more, sons, we'll be at the Kremlin tomorrow"
GFM Fedor von Bock, December 3rd 1941.

Well. That was my Opa's words. He really like Herr Sapper's tale and I persuaded him to write him and all to you a note. He came to my flat to have a meal (Friedrich is also a chef) and I helped him to use this white man's device as he calls it.

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"War is less costly than servitude, the choice is always between Verdun and Dachau." - Jean Dutourd, French veteran of both world wars

"A mon fils: depuis que tes yeux sont fermes les miens n’ont cessé de pleurir." - Mère française, Verdun

Thank you so much Gentlemen for your interest, and for your input. Your comments are always very welcome and are studied at length to see what you have to say, For me that is very important.

This moment I am off to have a shower, later I hope to add (tonight) the Bloodiest Square Mile in Normandy. There are three who lived to tell the tale. My old 246 Field Company R.E. officer, the late Captain Edwards.R.E. Then, a very dear old friend on mine who served with the 1st Suffolks, Richard Harris. and finally my knowledge of events. Bear with me! Will be back to start this latest recollection.
Sapper.

Friedrich :

We are honored as well to have your Opa aboard our forums.

Herr HuH I welcome you here ! I can safely say we as the younger generation would enjoy hearing your stories of your war-time experiences. And although painful it would be of great benefit to hear what has happened in the past so that it may not be repeated again. As Sapper has mentioned the memories are alive as they were just yesterday and so it must be for you and many of your generation that fought on "both" sides of the conflict. Take your time here and review all the posts as you feel comfortable and please give us your thoughts on any....Sapper as well please !

-- Mit den besten Grüßen --

Erich

Hello Gottfried. Fellow Veteran
I hope I have got the name right? If I may, I would like to take time in answering you message, for heavens sake we must have a lot in common, and any answer I send you, must recall those days when we were all young, and all the World belonged to us.
Sapper
I must get on with my shower or I will be here all night!

Welcome to the forums Herr Oberstleutnant! VERY glad to have you here. I and we all here will greatly look forward to whatever stories you can tell us.

Im greatful that Sapper now has someone here he can really relate to. I and we all greatly enjoy his stories very very much, and we are looking forward to hearing yours as well.

Thank you for visiting. Im greatful that Friedrich is a member here and is apparently well versed in history and the arts. He does contribute some great material on these forums.

He has told us of your friendship with General Fedor von Bock, that is also we would like to hear anything about. Friedrich tells me that you have his Iron Cross 2nd class, that is also a nice thing to have as something to remember him by.

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Lost are only those, who abandon themselves) Hans-Ulrich Rudel.

Now Squeaky clean. Let me start this bit of history, The first part, is my own recall, that will be followed later by accounts from Captain Edwards and others. For their account is probably better written than mine.

The Chateau de la Londe.
Murder, Sheer Bloody Murder.

On the night of June 22nd the South Lancashire regiment with two sections of 3 Platoon, 246 Field Company R.E. attacked the Chateau without a preparatory artillery barrage and “walked in” and took the Chateau. But something went very wrong after that, for some reason that has never been explained, the anti-tank guns were not brought up to support our troops. At about 4.30 am the next morning the Germans counter attacked with tanks and drove our infantry out, without anti-tank guns there was no defence against armour.

We later found out that the Germans had been called over the coals for the disgraceful loss of the Chateau and that they would have to “Fight to the death” to regain it. They then set about strengthening their defenses, ready for another attack. First they were reinforced by a company of tanks about 30 to 40 strong, plus 5 Company of 192 Panzer Grenadiers and a Platoon of Sappers backed up by the H.Q. Company of 22 Panzer Regiment, fighting as infantry, A force of considerable strength!

Our intelligence did not know about these enemy reinforcements, the weather had been very bad with thunderstorms that did not allow for good aerial reconnaissance, at the same time our patrols had not managed to get close enough to check on the enemy strength.

There then followed operation, “Mitten” the retaking of the Chateau, this operation was to help the Canadians who were preparing to make a “Pincer movement” round Caen. The attack opened with the Divisional artillery laying down a barrage that our troops had to follow up close behind!

On the evening of June the 27th,the South Lancashires led the 8th Brigade and attacked first, not knowing of the superior enemy strength, they were slaughtered, every avenue was covered with tremendous enemy fire power. They were beaten back, but managed to hold on to the wood at La Londe. The Suffolk and East Yorkshires Regiments, with 2 Platoon of 246 Field Company R.E. (mine) in support, were then thrown in to the battle, cold food was brought to them at about 1 to 2 am and they attacked at 4 am.

The barrage came down and what followed was a terrifying experience. An experience so bad, that those who were there will remember it to their graves. It is beyond my feeble attempt at description! The battle was confused and violent. To give an example, an officer of the Suffolk’s trying to consolidate his defence was harried by a Spandau, seeing two tanks in the half light, he asked one of them for fire support on to the Spandau position. A head appeared from the turret and these two looked at each other in silence. The gun began to swing round, the British officer ran for his life and just managed to reach a slit trench before the German tank fired at him. Lieutenant Woodward knocked out one with a PIAT, the other was knocked out by Private Crick, who was killed immediately by shell fire. The other accounts will follow later.
Comment?
Sapper

Dear sir Gottfried von Hammerstein und Hartmann,

I salute You!

Yours truly

Kai-Petri Hänninen
Second lieutenant( reserve )
Finnish army
Internal medicine Doctor of Medicine
Turku, Finland

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Thank you all! Be sure I will let my Opa know all your comments. He had a smile in his face when he was reading this history of a veteran like him. And I will persuade him to learn to use better the computer so he can discuss many things with all of you, let's remember all what he lived and beside, he is a militaria and guns expert.

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"War is less costly than servitude, the choice is always between Verdun and Dachau." - Jean Dutourd, French veteran of both world wars

"A mon fils: depuis que tes yeux sont fermes les miens n’ont cessé de pleurir." - Mère française, Verdun

Hello again. What follows is my old friends description Of the Bloodiest square mile.
There is too much to add at one go so I have split it up into about three sessions. This, as it unravels will surely convey the atmosphere of war for even today it is terrifying.

The Battle For The Chateau
De la Londe, June 28th 1944
Sappers friend. Richard Harris RH
We moved up on the afternoon of the 24th of June. The plan, though we only vaguely understood it at the time, was that the S. Lancs should recapture the Chateau and the E. Yorks and Suffolks would follow through this objective to capture the villages of Epron and La Bijude, It all sounded quite simple and straightforward, for the Lancs had taken possession of the Chateau easily enough on the first occasion, but had had the bad luck to be counter-attacked with tanks before they could get their A/T defences into position.

Intelligence thought that the objective was only lightly held by a handful? of Germans and. a couple of dug-in tanks and that once these were cleared the two villages would present little difficulty. It turned out however that this was one operation which did not go quite according to plan and was by no means as brilliantly successful as the brigade’s first objective, the Normandy beaches zone of these objectives were taken that afternoon, The S. Lancs put in their attack, but had to withdraw after sustaining severe casualties. ‘B’ Company of the Suffolks waited all that afternoon for the word to go in; a period of suspense which only those who have experienced it, can know, We tried to dig in by the side of the road to shelter from the 88 mm shells and mortar bombs which kept whining over, the ground was chalky and we could make little impression on in; hard surface, During this waiting period we lost several men, caused by a direct hit on one of the slit trenches dug, and now vacated by the Lancs and temporarily occupied by the Suffolks.

There was not much to see. One or two prisoners were escorted back, a few wounded and shell-shocked men passed back along the road which ended in the enemy positions. An ambulance and a Red Cross jeep did wonderful work going out time and time again to pick up the wounded in spite of the mortars which had little regard for the symbol of mercy displayed on the side of the two vehicles. It was not until the supporting tanks began to withdraw that we realised that all was not well. No one seemed to know quite what was happening as so often is the case where infantry warfare is concerned.

The suspense was terrible. To me it was not a dissimilar feeling to that which I experienced on the night of June 5th wondering what the morrow would bring and whether I should live to see it through. Were we going in or not? Why this interminable waiting? If we have got to do a job let’s get it over and done with, That I think is what most of us felt. As darkness fell we learned that the Lancs had failed, though it was no fault of theirs, many had lost their lives, many more had been wounded until they had become too depleted and disordered to continue the attack, Now we knew the worst and that provided some measure of relief. We and the S. Yorks would make a dawn attack on the Chateau de la Londe and hold it at all costs. ‘B’ Company would lead the Suffolk attack, which would commence at 0408 hrs after 8 mins of Divisional Artillery preparation.

We changed our positions to the start line after dark and those who were not on guard got in a couple of hours uneasy sleep in bushes and ditches; there was not much comfort. Rations came up in the night. Stone cold steak and kidney pudding is not very palatable at 1 o’clock in the morning, especially eating it with your fingers, but in spite of this it was welcome to us, who had had no food for over 13 hours; not that we had much stomach for it.
My first recollection of that unhappy day was that of being stirred into life by the toe of a section mate’s boot as be said “Get your kit on mate we’re going’ in soon”. I arose stiff and damp from the dew soaked ground and groped round in the dark for my equipment which was equally wet, All around dark shapes were performing similar acts of preparation grunting and cursing and yawning. I wiped the moisture off the working parts of my rifle and made sure that the bayonet was properly fixed, checked that my bandoliers of ammunition and two grenades were secured, and waited shivering, in the cold darkness for the order to move.
Silently we mustered, moved a hundred yards forward from where we had spent the night and lay down in the waist high corn, being thoroughly soaked by this time. Our section lay together in a line abreast. We were good pals, the eight of us always together in England and over here. The Corporal whispered something about keeping together and not losing contact, then there was silence again. In the East the first gleams of daylight could be seen, and only the mooing of a cow broke the uncanny quiet.

Suddenly a series of flashes illuminated the sky behind us followed by rumblings and the familiar whistle of shells and mortars as the Divisional supporting fire opened up, flinging their missiles on to the enemy positions a few hundred yards in front of us. The very ground shuddered under the impact and the scene resembled a gigantic and terrible firework display, black smoke and fumes being wafted towards us as shell upon shell thundered down. Even though it was our own guns who were doing the damage it was, because of our proximity to the bursts, little less terrifying than an enemy bombardment, According to the plan, after 8 mins of this deadly rain of explosives, the Company Commander gave the order to move forward, he in the middle leading the company. Although he shouted at the top of his voice it was barely audible above the almighty din which was going on all round, we were to keep as close to the barrage as possible which was to ‘creep’ forward by 100 yd. stages in order that we might get right up to the enemy while he still had his head down. To add to the racket, the Middlesex joined in, sweeping the front with their medium machine guns. It is difficult to realise that anyone at the receiving end of such mass of organised destruction should survive, let alone fight back. But Jerry was well dug in and he was tough, particularly the Panzer Grenadiers.

The whole Company moved forward and I think there was no man who was not afraid; forward through the soaking corn as close as they dared to the curtain of death in front of them. By this time the Boche, realising that such intensive fire preceded an attack, sent over counter battery fire and dropped shells on our side of the barrage. Casualties were inevitable. The line began to thin out and tended to become disordered. Cries of “stretcher bearer” were soon to be heard, vain cries in many cases, and as a man fell his mate would stop only to put his rifle, bayonet first, in the ground so that the casualty might be more readily located. Some fell silently, a dark red pool staining the corn, being the only indication of the tragedy that had overtaken them. There was no time to wait, we just had to press on, for capture of the enemy and the cessation of his fire was the surest and quickest method of getting aid to those in need.

In the faint light of early morning made darker by the clouds of smoke and dust which were constantly being thrown up it was difficult to see where the rest of one’s platoon or even section, was. Every so often we had to lie down when the shells fell too close, and wait until the barrage lifted another 100 yds.
I found myself walking forward with one of the Corporals and the Company Commander, I, having no idea where the rest of the section had gone. One of the platoon officers shouted for his Sergeant to carry on as he turned and staggered back, his right arm dangling limply at his side. As we passed a group of blazing farm buildings on our right I could make out that it was a much thinner and straggling line which was now advancing. From the burning farm came four figures with their distinctive German helmets faintly gleaming in the red glow. Their hands were not raised, there was no time to argue. A Sten barked for a couple of seconds and the silhouettes crumpled to the ground as we passed on. On, for what seemed hours, sometimes running, sometimes crawling, sometimes lying still, waiting and praying for the barrage to lift. There seemed even less of us now but the Major was still in front bellowing words of encouragement to carry on to those remaining, a leader and an example to his men if ever there was one. I followed like a dog at his master’s heel, going by this time, I knew not where. Despite the intense chill of the early morning air and the cold wetness of my battle dress clinging to me, I could feel perspiration running down my face and neck. My throat felt that I had not tasted water for days, parched by the smoke and cordite fumes, 1 gripped my rifle with a frenzied determination until the knuckles were as white as my face must have looked, could I have seen it.
To clarify the position I must state that we by-passed the Chateau (though I did not know this at the time) and on finally halting prepared to dig in on the enemy held side failing to realise that a company of Germans were still entrenched in the grounds behind us. I think there were about nine of us, including Major Macaffrey. I shall always remember his words, calm and steady as if he had been through just another exercise. “God bless you lads, now dig in as soon as you can, we may be counter-attacked at any moment”. We had found a spot used by one of the dug-in tanks and this afforded a little protection, but would be of no use as a weapon slit trench, The only members of my section there, were the Lance-Corporal and Jarvis, the latter lying on the ground with his foot shattered. As we prepared to dig in the Major told me to go back, try to locate Captain Archdall, the Second in Command, and bring up any other men we could find as it would be impossible to repulse much of a counter-attack with the few men we possessed. He then sent up the Verey signal arranged to indicate to the artillery that the objective had been reached in order that they might lift their fire.

This is the second instalment of the "Bloodiest Square Mile in Normandy"
I would like to hear your comments so far.
Sapper.

As events were subsequently to prove, it was fortunate for me that I was selected as the runner, though at the time I would have been far happier, if indeed one could he happy under the circumstances, digging myself a hole in the ground.

Thinking it would lighten my load I left my shovel for one of the others, bitterly regretting my action later in the day. I started back, walking through the wooded parts and running as hard as I could across the open ground to drop breathless in the ditch on the far side. I saw another khaki figure lying in the ditch. I nudged him and told him to get up to the rest as quickly as be could. He neither replied nor moved, The day was already done for him.

There was no time to waste, and as soon as I had recovered my breath I made another dash across the next piece of open ground which ran along the side of the Chateau, but was fortunately screened from the view of the German occupants by the high brick wall surrounding the grounds. It was now light, and had I been observed I should have made an easy target for any sniper, however luck was with me and I gained the shelter of a deep ditch running parallel with one from which I had just come. There were, I discovered two ditches here, divided by a little bank, Slithering over this I was greeted by a faint shout of “Tommie, Tommie”. It came from two badly wounded Germans farther along the ditch. I suppose it was the only English they knew for it was followed by something quite incomprehensible to me, in what I took to be German. I was far too occupied with my own mission to find out what they wanted, but at the same time much relieved to see that the only enemy I had encountered were in no condition to offer resistance Taking advantage of the cover I made a quick reconnaissance of the land over which I had crossed earlier, though it looked different in the light and the absence of the smoke and dust.

I spotted Corporal Rose coming along an adjacent hedge with four of his section (he was killed a few minutes later) and made towards him leaving the two casualties moaning and dismayed, to I know not what fate. I shouted to them that they would be picked up, but in their ignorance of the language I think it helped them little, I informed the Corporal breathlessly of the position and he in turn told me that the rest of the Company, a dozen men and Captain Archdall were sheltering further along the hedge. Soon after starting to make his way forward Rose ran into a fatal burst of Spandau fire.

Captain Archdall, anxious to learn the whereabouts of the Company Commander and the rest, bade me as soon as I had recovered, to lead the way back, since I alone, knew where the others were. By the usual dash and crawl manner we got half way back and were sheltering in a partly filled-in moat against the Chateau wall preparing for the next move, when we observed that a Tiger tank now occupied the field which I had twice crossed. We immediately lay low.

I have already explained that there were still Germans in the Chateau and they had by now decided that it was time to quit, to execute this maneuver they had despatched one tank to cover this flank. Their route of escape was through the little copse where I had left the others. I never saw them again, but I think they were all taken prisoner, except Major MacCaffrey, who, now wounded in the shoulder, was passed unobserved by the retreating Hun.

We could hear the frantic orders of the Germans on the other side of the wall, but to have revealed ourselves with the tank in so commanding a position and we, having no A/T weapons, would have been suicidal. There was nothing to do but wait for the Tiger to complete his defending action, (though I must add we did not know then, quite what the Germans were doing) and move off in the wake of his fellows. Whatever else, it provided a breather for a little, after the violent activity so far. How long we waited thus I cannot say, powerless to do anything and praying that we had not been observed.

Eventually it lumbered away swinging its deadly 88 mm gun rearwards as it went. The Second in Command, deciding it was now impossible to contact our forward position, ordered us to line the hedge and dig in. It was now that I realised the folly of having parted with my shovel, To borrow one would have been rather like asking a drowning man for his lifebelt; I cursed myself for being such a fool.

As soon as we had lined the hedge, Jerry, his withdrawal now complete, sent over some airburst mortar bombs which he always used for ranging purposes, Three of us jumped for a German trench and being the last in, I was rather more exposed than the other two. The bombs cracked off and the splinters of metal whistled through the branches overhead, but no more followed.

Straightening up again, I sensed a sweet, sickly smell and felt the lad in between the other occupant and myself, slide further down into the hole, “My arm”, he gasped, I saw that between his shoulder and elbow was a bloody mess as if he had been clawed by a savage beast, so that the hone itself could be seen showing through. We did the best we could for him by applying his field dressing, which was totally inadequate, as tightly as possible, to arrest the flow of blood. That he might have all the protective benefit of the trench we propped him up in the bottom, for he was too weak to walk, and left him in the hope that the stretcher bearers might soon come up. I never knew how he got on.

Those who could, dug; dug for their lives in every sense. Without anything to entrench myself I hurried along the hedge in the hope of finding some sort of shelter, for it would not be long before a barrage followed those ranging shot.
Beneath the wreckage of what had been a door I found a trench about two feet deep, made presumably by the Germans. This at any rate was better than nothing and I at once set frantically to work, to deepen it by using my steel helmet as a scoop. It was laborious work, and I seemed to make but, small impression after the loose top soil had been taken off. Then one of the other lads case along and seeing that I had at least got some sort of cover, suggested that we shared his shovel and take it in turns to dig as hard as we could. Although the trench was not very long I considered it quite a sound idea, especially as he took the first shift, I seized the opportunity to take a swig at the stale warm water in my bottle; the first drink for many hours.

I suppose we had gone down about another six inches when it started, but we had more cover than most of the lads who had had to start from scratch. As the first shells fell we got down as flat as we could in the trench, but there was not room to lie full length. Our boots were in each other’s faces, and our heads twisted in order that we might get as far down as possible.

We lowered the door down on top, it that it would have stopped much, but it gave a feeling of added protection. What followed, for what seemed hours, was an ordeal, worse than anything which had gone before. In a great show of hatred for his eviction from the Chateau, the Boche appeared to hurl everything in his armoury at our newly occupied positions. Every second there was the terrifying whizz of shells through the trees, cutting the limbs like butter. Branches came tumbling down and each new, near explosion sent earth down our necks and in our mouths and eyes. To add to the intense discomfort, I developed cramp in the legs, being unable to move in this huddled position. It would have been fatal to have got up, so I had to bear it as best I could though the pain was maddening. Lying with your head to the ground tends to amplify the sound and vibration of explosives and under such concentrated fire it seemed that the whole world around us was erupting as indeed, to some extent it was.

To analyse one’s feelings under such circumstances is difficult. as each shell approaches you have a terrible dread that it will land on you; you forget everyone and everything else; this shell is for you; it is intended for you; it is going to hit YOU, And as each finds you still alive after its detonation, you decide that, that one has gone over, but the next one will be it. Therefore the strain of a prolonged period of this kind can he imagined. It is a period of acute mental torture.

After grovelling, praying and trembling, for how long I have no idea, the din ceased. The quiet was unbelievable and unreal. The ground was still again. We lay stupified for a few minutes not dar