Here were a thousand or so Newfoundlanders-fishermen, lumbermen, trappers and men from the city just spending their last few free minutes together before falling in; falling in for the last time until the curtain had rung down on the tragedy of Beaumont Hamel. At 9 p.m. the Regiment fell in. While the roll was being called another Regiment that was to attach on the morrow marched past. By ten minutes past nine all company commanders had reported their companies correct, the C. O. mounted his horse and road to the head of the column, then with a wave of this hand commenced the last march to Beaumont Hamel.

The inhabitants of Louvencourt were there to see the start. How much these peasants knew one cannot tell but would be idle to suppose that they were in complete ignorance of the pending attack. For two minutes the C.O. kept the Regiment marching to attention and such marching it was not a glance to the right or left, heads up, in one solid mass they sung through Louvencourt. Oh! You people of Newfoundland, be proud and honour the memory of these men, these men who set the standard of Honour for your Regiment for all time. Never before nor since did the Newfoundland Regiment march as on this occasion. Many indeed are the fine marches done by the Regiment but even the march past His Majesty King George V did not equal it. Then there were bands and drums and deafening cheering; at Louvencourt for two minutes there was not a sound except the steady tramp of men. After the usual two hundred yards had been marched the C.O. turned in his saddle and gave the signal to march at ease. The column seemed to heave as the men slung their rifles, then it steadied down again and from front to rear of the Battalion every officer and man spontaneously broke into song. "Keep the Home Fires Burning" was practically the only song sung and this was kept up until a halt was called just East of Acheux. The Regiment halted here for half an hour in order to cross a ridge when the visibility was not so good for the evening. During this halt the regiment that marched through Louvencourt cut across the head of the Battalion from northwards. They too had evidently mapped out a new route. It was a regiment in which all ranks had a friend so we got a very suitable opportunity to wish them God speed.

When darkness had fallen the Battalion fell in ready to continue the march. The noise of the guns seemed very near now, the sky appeared to be illuminated with incessant sheet-lightning. The heavies were pounding away on the left and every now and then the swishing rush of a shell was heard overhead.

Singing had now ceased; there was very little talking-only a muffled grumble, as a man slipped in a rut or kicked his foot against a stone, for the battle equipment was beginning to feel heavy. Of what the men were thinking let the mothers, wives and sisters imagine. It would not be of the coming battle.

At the last hill into Mailly-Maillet was reached but before entering the village the Regiment turned off the main road, leaving the village on their left. On emerging into open country South of the village an officer was sent forward to warn the batteries that the troops were coming. Now the actual battle area was reached and the march was continued in silence over fields. The batteries were firing hard when the head of the column reached them but they ceased at once when they saw the troops.

It was here that the only unpleasant incident of the march happened. On arriving at the entrance to Tipperary Avenue (a communications trench) it was found that one old friendly Regiment still packed it, so we were forced to halt as we were, strung out in single file over more than half a mile of country that was liable to be shelled at any moment. After five minutes and no shelling we began to hope for no trouble but alas, the swish of a heavy salvo came along and then another and another. They did not burst among us but very unpleasantly close, so close in fact that at least one company had to leave its position and deploy. The wait seemed endless, as also did the enemy shelling. In reality the shelling was not very bad but the time and situation were very critical. When talking the matter over in the trenches an hour or two later, it appeared that everyone was under the impression that someone else was right in the thick of it.

The weary, aggravating tramp up the long communication trench came to an end at last and by 2 a.m. on July 1st the Regiment was settled away in St. John's Road and Clommel Avenue from which trenches the attack was to be delivered. These trenches were comparatively new, having been largely dug by the Regiment and were in rear of the line that we usually held when in the forward sector. St. John's Road was so christened by the 2nd South Wales Borderers as a compliment to the Regiment. The South Wales Borderers put the finishing touches to the trench after the Newfoundlanders had broken the back of the work.

For officers there was no rest but the men, very tired after five hours marching, were soon asleep except, of course, observers, sentries, & C. Lewis gunners overhauled their guns and each man was roused in turn by his platoon commander to have his equipment inspected. Another tedious duty was the issuing of further Battle Stores to those previously detailed to carry them. These stores consisted chiefly of trench bridges and ladders, to be carried by two men each, and the bangalore torpedoes. The torpedoes were long lengths of metal piping filled with explosives and fitted with a fuse for firing. They were used for blowing gaps in wire entanglements. All these heavy stores had been sent up by a careful staff to save the men carrying them on the eve of battle.

Inspections and issues of stores having been completed, there was only the wait for zero hour. This wait was the same as has been written about in almost every book about the war. Most of the men dozed, the officers strolled about their various commands chatting to groups in each fire bay and giving final little bits of advice, cigarette smoking was allowed and altogether it was very much like the final few minutes in the pavilion before a big football match.

The British artillery was keeping up a continual roar; so much firing was going on that the sharp crack of the field guns was almost reduced to nothing by the ceaseless rush of the shells overhead. Slowly the sky in the East grew lighter and as day broke a last meal was taken by all ranks. The enemy had not been shelling heavily but they had caused on or two casualties in the ranks on the left of our line.

At 6 a.m. everybody was alert, the sun was up and the final wait had commenced. The gun fire increased and the intense bombardment, that was to continue until 7:15 a.m., opened. It was now quite impossible to distinguish the report of a gun; it seemed as if all the reports were merged into one continuous roar.

When the intense bombardment commenced an officer was sent from each battalion to meet the Brigade Major and synchronize watches. The officer took two watches and on return to his unit visited each company commander to give him and his subalterns the correct time.

The enemy did not reply to the British bombardment and most of the troops were very anxious to watch the effect of the fire.

"Zero" hour was fixed for 7:30 a.m. and all knew that the remaining interesting items between now and the jump off were firstly, the air activity, secondly, the hurricane bombardment at 7:15 a.m. and last, but, perhaps the most interesting to novices, the blowing up of the mine in front of Beaumont Hamel. This mine was in the sector of the 4th Division but the Royal Fusiliers of the 29th Division were supplying the troops to seize the lip when the explosion took place.

At 7:15 a.m. the hurricane bombardment opened. The noise was now kept at a steady pitch; there was no break in the sound at all; in fact it seemed as if the sound were felt rather than heard, the air seeming suddenly to increase in weight.