So you can imagine I was not a happy bunny.

I had to ask myself the question – was Broomfield on his way to check which officers were due to collect their laundry and repaired uniforms on the fateful evening?

If Graf Egbert Von Hurgenstein had not spotted a target of opportunity, I tend to think that Broomfield’s methodical nature would have led him back to the Viljoen’s house.

Of course, hindsight is a wonderful thing. Maybe Broomfield would just have cleared McCallion’s name with the Belgian police and moved on to the next case.

Who knows?

Meanwhile, I could continue with my own plodding trail.

At least I knew where McCallion was hospitalised. It was now a question of tracing his movements back to his own unit in time for his deadly confrontation with Hartley in no-man’s land.

Jeez, I’m starting to sound like one of those dime-store novels. Somebody slap me.

Paragraphs extracted from ‘As God is my witness’ by Matron Susan Light.

"In the morning light, much to my surprise, it was discovered that the young soldier, who had been so tormented by his grief the previous evening, was missing.

"He, and another soldier from a Scottish Regiment, were not in their beds when my nurses performed their morning rounds and this was reported to the RAMC Staff Sergeant.

"I had been aware of a growing resentment amongst the wounded. They were disgusted with the policy which would so often return them to the notorious base camp at Etaples where the infamous mutiny was to take place at a later date.

"Men who had proven their worth as fighting soldiers with their chosen regiments feared they would be re-badged and diverted to strange units where the comforting bonds of comradeship would be absent.

"In conversation with some other patients in the ward, I became aware that the two men had pledged to make their own way back to their units in the hope that their loyalty to regiment and comrades would be reciprocated despite their flaunting of the military code.

"I prayed for their success because I was all too well aware that they would soon be classed as deserters and in those trying times, could face the ultimate penalty."

I’ve got a lot books about the Great War. Hey, I can trace my slow descent towards obsession just by looking at my bookcase.

It ranges from ‘The Great War in Pictures’ – a snip at £9.99 from Darks and Prentners; the magnificent Middlebrook volumes; the Huw Strachans (I was getting serious by that stage); The Somme day-by-day and big lights should have been flashing ‘anorak alert’ when I brought that one home.

And of course there was ‘Our Tommy’ by Doctor Uprichard Gnomes. I’ve had my ups and downs with this book. In fact, I gave it a fair old slating on the forum on the basis that it had far too much stuff about officers and staff in it.

I had to keep my head down for a while after that. Nuff said.

But, if I could have given the Doc a big kiss on his bewhiskered visage, I would have puckered up and thought of England.

Not many people know this, as that actor geezer would say, but there actually is a reference to ‘Black Jock’ in Gnomesie’s weighty volume.

And, yeah, he does do a runner from a hospital.

But I had one over on the good doctor … I had more than a nickname. I knew the man to look for. He was McCallion’s mate in the ward, Davie Robertson.

Adjutant’s report 2nd Lanark Highlanders. June 29th 1917.

Pte. Robertson D. A/9821 was subject of disciplinary interview with Lt. Col. Graham Stewart, officer commanding.

This soldier had been lightly wounded near Messines on June 7th and was sent for treatment to Rouen Hospital. Records show Robertson absented himself from said hospital with authorisation.

Military police were informed of the situation by hospital authorities and Robertson plus one other soldier from the 7th (s) Bn.R. Mud. RIF were listed as absent without leave.

Robertson presented himself to Bn. Provost Sergeant on the morning of June 29th and requested permission to speak to Lt. Col. Stewart.

During interview, Robertson was advised of the rash nature of his actions and warned as to his future behaviour. He had previously been an exemplary soldier.

On conclusion of interview, Robertson was promoted to the acting rank of Lance Corporal personally by Lt. Col. Stewart.

From ‘The Lads of Lanark’ (History of the Lanark Highlanders in the Great War 1914-18).

"Much has been said about the wearing of the kilt during the last war. Some, not Scotsmen I hasten to add, have derided this garment as impractical and a cosmetic tribute to period long past in national history.

"But if you were to ask a ‘Jock’ who wore the tartan with pride through the years of war if he would have accepted the ‘breeks’ which were standard for the remainder of the army, the answer would have been a resounding ‘no, nay, never!’

"This sense of national and regimental pride is amply illustrated by the case of a private soldier in the 2nd battalion, Davie Robertson (latterly RSM) who made his own way back to the regimental fold rather than risk being allocated to another formation.

"He absented himself from hospital and, having avoided the attentions of the Military Police, threw himself upon the mercy of Lt. Col. Stewart with the words: ‘I was ‘feared they would send me to another regiment Sir.’

Lt. Col. Stewart’s opinion on the rights and wrongs of Roberston’s behaviour became a legend within the battalion, and, indeed, with other regiments who wear the tartan.

His words are etched on the memory of all who served at that time: ‘Robertson, you are a bloody fool. You could have been shot for desertion. Now go and put a lance-corporal’s stripe on your arm. Dismiss!’

It should also be noted that Robertson’s accomplice in this venture was also accepted back into the fold of his own particular regiment after Lt. Col. Stewart had discussed the matter with his counterpart in the 7th (s) Bn. R. Mud. RIF, Lt. Col. Enoch Beard.