rts of orders and supplies. A day's ration, another gas
helmet (we already had one each), war rations (an emergency ration),
&c. The next day (Sunday) we marched down to the station to entrain,
marching off at 7-45. This was the only hard day we have had so far.
We had a tiring march to the station, carrying equipment weighing
about 60lbs.--an awful weight--we then waited at the station, and a
train came in with our transport on it, who had come over separately
by a different route, and spent four or five hours in the train, and
finally detrained at a very pretty village, where we could distinctly
hear the booming of the guns. There we waited for some time before
marching off, and were greeted with the sound of loud cheers from a
neighbouring field where the Artists were playing the H.A.C. at rugger
and were cheering their own sides. Then we set out, led by a French
guide, and marched about ten miles to reach our present abode. The
thing that struck me on the way was the flatness of the country, and
the roads, which were the typical roads one always sees in the
illustrated papers: long, straight and slightly raised, with avenues
of poplars along them all. The march was awful. The weight in my pack
almost dragged my shoulders off, and the men felt it terribly.
Finally, we arrived in the market place of the village near which we
are, and fell out on the grass immediately, only too glad to get our
packs off and rest, while the billeting officer led the Company
Commanders round and showed them where they were to be billeted.

After an hour or so they returned and we marched off to our billets.
We are billeted in a sort of irregular ring round the village, with
Battalion Headquarters in a small chateau. We are in farms. Most farms
take anything from 50 to 100 men, and all the farms are similar. There
is a central square with a sort of depression in the centre, which is
covered with dirty straw and filthy water; all the rubbish is thrown
into it, and pigs, hens, and cows, wander at will all over it. I asked
the doctor this morning if it was not very unhealthy, but he said that
fortunately such places became septic filters. I think he said they
breed all sorts of bacteria and they have a squabble among themselves,
and by fighting against each other keep things all right. If the
Austrian and German bacteria would only do the same it would save a
lot of trouble. Round the cesspits are barns and pig-houses, &c. A lot
of barns. In