.

They tackled every Regiment in the Brigade at football and defeated one
and all, fought their way by sheer tenacity into the Brigade Cup
Final--and lost with good spirit.

Parades were few and light, sport compulsory. Moral and health were
excellent although the genial company of the leech-like post of active
service--lice--began to irritate some few and to send creepy sensations
down the spine of those who were still unblessed. The Duo scrubbed each
other daily in--a biscuit tin of water.

There were baths of course! You marched down in twenties to where a
"room" was screened from the eyes of those who were not there to see by
a bordering of sacking--this served also to "keep out" a shrieking cold
wind that played up and down your bare body with icy persistence, and
finally with a spiteful gust whisked away your solitary towel to the
skies and caused you to ponder how Adam warmed himself in a snowstorm.
To pass from this elaborate dressing-room to the actual torture-chamber
necessitated a short walk OUTSIDE--ugh! Once inside the twenty Spartans
waited for the water to be turned on them from the long spray pipes.
Sometimes this water froze your marrow, but generally it scorched away
the hair that should have been shaved off that morning. However,
splashing and blindly soaping each other you would be half-way through
the operations when steam was shut off with the order "clear out"--to
make way for another twenty animals. Thus, eyes clenched tight to omit
soap-suds, into the open again, a slip in the mud, and, forgetting,
abrupt opening of the eyes--how wonderfully expressive and voluminous is
our English tongue. Although I have heard a no more efficient flow of
useful blasphemy than Duport's vitriolic patois.

Rations were certainly plentiful--with the exception of bread, of which
one man's issue would not choke a winkle.

Breakfast was usually bacon or cheese and chah (tea)--the beverage
slightly tainted with sugar; although there is on record one memorable
occasion of exceptional sweetness of the drink--attributed to the fact
that cookie was startled by the shout of "Raid on," and in went the
whole bag--minus the quarter placed inside for himse--er, emergency.

Dinner, to-day, stew. To-morrow, stew, and the day after--stew! An awful
white concoction called rice went with it. Tea finds jam on the menu--on
your clothes too, because of a struggle with someone over disputed
possession of a pot that did not rightl