At dawn on the 10th November we set out for our last taste of the war, little thinking that our hours of danger and discomfort were now numbered. The Battalion was advanced guard to the Brigade, which was moving forward via Pommeroeul, Hautrage, and the Bois de Baudour.

In the advance from Vimy we had so far been only among the first friendly troops to enter the villages deserted by the Hun; now we were the first, and we shall not readily forget the enthusiasm with which we were greeted. We were bombarded with flowers, coffee, and cigars. The generosity of these kind people was much greater than their knowledge of the enemy's dispositions, with the result that our approach was well advertised. The latter part of our advance was along the north edge of the Bois de Baudour. Immediately east of Garenne we had to cross a wide gap, and here the enemy machine-guns, which were cunningly sited and carefully concealed, got busy. As our van-guard closed with him, one Hun, whose gun was mounted at the top window of a house, waved the white flag. The ruse, however, was transparent, and the last shot of the war, as far as we were concerned, silenced him.

At 17.00 we got orders to relieve the cavalry outposts; but, as this would have involved a considerable march in an anti-Bosche direction, the spirit, rather than the letter, of this order was obeyed. At about midnight the shelling, which had been fairly heavy, ceased, and some hours later there was not a sound to be heard. Patrols sent out before dawn reported that all was clear for over a mile. It had been a bitterly cold night, and we were quite glad when it was time to move again.

At 07.00 on the 11th November we set out for our last attack, our objective being the Mons-Jurbise road. There was no opposition of any kind and by 09.00 we had reached the objective. Our job had proved an easy one, and we quite expected to get orders to continue the pursuit. But of a sudden there arose a clatter of hoofs and an obviously excited transport officer dashed up to the Commanding Officer, brandishing one of the pink forms we had learned to hate. But never before had an Army Form borne such a message as this: "Hostilities will cease at 11.00; until further orders units will not move beyond the position occupied at that time." At last there had dawned the day for which we had lived—and so many had died. Strange to relate there was no tremendous excitement. Perhaps the philosopher spoke truly when he said that one always has a feeling of regret on doing a thing for the last time. Perhaps we had been fed on rumours so often that we took this for one. Perhaps we were too weary in mind and body to grasp the significance of the stupendous news. Or was it that our thoughts turned at this time to those grand men who had given their lives for this great end? Whatever the reason, the fact remains that there was no enthusiasm in keeping with the event.

We had a short spell of outpost duty, and then moved to Erbisoeul a village about five miles from Mons. Little need be said regarding our life after the Armistice. On the whole it was quite a pleasant blend of training, inspections, dances, concerts, football and leave. Erbisoeul was an attractive village, and there we remained until, thinned by demobilisation, we were reduced to cadré strength. The last remnant of the Battalion reached Gailes in May, 1919.

APPENDICES.

• List of Officers, Senior N.C.O.'S, etc., who Embarked in May, 1915.
  
• Roll of Officers, Warrant Officers, Non-Commissioned Officers
  and Men who Died on Service.
  
• Honours and Awards.
  
• Turkish Orders for Advance on Romani.
  

APPENDIX I

APPENDIX II

APPENDIX III