sandbag.

At frequent intervals it was necessary to crawl out and visit the
listening posts, who lay in the rank grass just beyond our own wire.

On returning, not only were one's feet wet, but knees and elbows as
well. Then it was up and down the trench again for another hour or so.

A fine drizzle set in and the stars again disappeared, the drizzle
turning to a steady shower.

I retired to company headquarters, only emerging when necessary to visit
the sentries and listening posts again. There, by the aid of a
sputtering candle, I sought diversion in the shape of a sevenpenny novel
that some kindly soul had forgotten in his haste to be relieved.

[Illustration: OUR TRENCHES AT PLUGSTREET.]

Just as I reached the stage where I could sort the various characters
into their ultimate _roles_ of hero, villain, and heroine the sergeant
again intruded with the news that one of the listening posts reported an
enemy patrol approaching. A few flares were fired up, but revealed
nothing except a white glare of grass field, the bean patch, and the
inky black of a few willows with our listening posts huddled at their
bases. These men were, of course, invisible to the enemy, as the flare
had fallen between their line and the willows. A flare must fall behind
the object aimed at to reveal anything with accuracy.

Even a couple of parachute lights fired from "Little Archibald," as we
called the special gun used for these larger flares, revealed nothing,
so I gave up in disgust, woke the only two men who had not been
disturbed all night, tied a couple of sandbags around each knee, and
once again disappeared over the parapet.

An hour later, on returning, the signaller warned me it was time for
the "situation" report. I scrawled out the usual formula, "Situation
unchanged; enemy quiet; wind northerly," and handed him the form.

It was ten minutes late, and though the adjutant would not read it till
morning I knew I was in for a wigging. Wet and disgusted I turned to my
dug-out.

A few minutes later traces of dawn showed themselves in the east. The
rain ceased and a fine mist took its place. The men stumbled out to
their rifles in response to the order "Stand to," and I made a final
promenade of the trench, dragging out a man here and there who was
tardy.

Then I stirred up the officer of the day and handed over my duties.

The mist cleared away, showing the German line, grim and formidable as
ever!

Another day had dawne