Lou rested her head on her mum’s shoulder. Keeping her hand over the book in her pocket, she walked slowly by her mum’s side. Together, they left Hill House.

39

Extract from the private diary of Lieutenant Christopher MacIntyre, 12^th Lancers

On 22 August 1914, my regiment was in rear of the 5th Cavalry Brigade, having spent a day covering the infantry columns advancing north. We had passed a pleasantly warm day in the grounds of a local chateau, the men playing football, the officers chatting about cricket. As was his way, Captain Mandeville had spent a good portion of the morning and afternoon with his nose in a book. He spent so much time reading from a small volume of Latin philosophy that the men had begun to refer to him affectionately as the Librarian.

At about 4.00 p.m., I was ordered to take my troop to a small village lying some 10 kilometres from the Franco-Belgian border. Along with another troop from my squadron, we were under the command of Captain Mandeville and had orders to round up what was thought to be a patrol of the enemy spotted in an orchard.

On arrival, I ordered my troop to dismount, and we proceeded on foot to locate the enemy in the trees; Captain Mandeville and B troop remaining in the rear. Almost immediately, we came under heavy fire, and it became apparent that we faced a far greater enemy force than expected. As I reached my position in the firing line, I received a bullet through my left thigh. Clearly recognising the impossibility of this mission and no doubt with a desire to preserve lives, Captain Mandeville gave the order to retreat. But it came at the same time the enemy charged.

From my position on the ground, I ordered a handful of my men to hold their position as long as possible to allow the remainder of my troop to get back to their horses, some 100 yards to the rear. Again, Captain Mandeville gave the order to retreat. As I found I could not put any weight on my leg, I emptied my revolver at the charging enemies at close range. The first German to reach me was about to club me on the head with the butt of his rifle. Quite naturally, I closed my eyes in anticipation of the blow. When I received none, I opened my eyes to find that my would-be assailant had fallen, having taken a bullet to the temple. It is then I saw that Captain Mandeville had dismounted and was running through the orchard towards me.

Having emptied his revolver, he took a rifle from one of my retreating men. With him was another man, a lance corporal from B squadron who I recognised as Hughes, the regimental boxing champion. Captain Mandeville ordered the remainder of my troop to retreat while he and Hughes kept the enemy at bay. This order, my men finally obeyed. I, then, felt myself hauled on to Hughes’s shoulders. He ran to the rear with me slung about him like a sack, while Captain Mandeville provided covering fire.