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I must have gone to sleep at once for we all knew better now than to waste time awake if we had a chance of sleep – day or night. It was with sinking feelings that I was awoken by someone stumbling clumsily amidst our tent guide-ropes. I felt sure he was looking for the opening flap; I felt sure it would mean that he was looking for me. After a time he gave up looking and started to shout.
“Is Captain Bion here please?”
I pulled my blankets over my head and for a second or two pretended not to hear. Of course nobody wanted an officer in the middle of the night for any pleasant reason. Again he shouted, more urgently. At last I asked him what he wanted.
“You're wanted up the line sir, at once. It's urgent.”
I pulled on my boots and staggered out into the bright cold night with my equipment. My three crews had been alerted and were waiting silently by their tanks. The messenger, whom I knew, was one on whom I could rely; checking the map reference to our destination I told him to get on and lead us there, the tanks following closely in line.
Even at that miserable hour it was very welcome to hear some infantry shout out as we passed, “Good old Tanks”, and “Good luck”. I was met by the second in command who told me the infantry were held up at a village called Sequehart. No great difficulty was expected but we must have the village.
The ground conditions were perfect as they had been since August 8th. The village dominated the far slope of a small valley. In the centre of it and easily visible was the church. Our infantry had penetrated the village but we did not know where the front line was. Therefore we must be careful not to open fire till we were really sure we were
not firing on our own. I hardly needed to tell our men that, but it was bad news that we had to fight in such confused conditions. With the poor visibility from tanks, it made it particularly awkward if we had to exercise great care in selecting our targets. I arranged with our tank commanders as I went t