hrapnel or shell
splinters. In case of a heavy bombardment with high explosives, the men
took shelter in deep and narrow "slip trenches." These were blind
alleyways leading off from the traveling trench, with room for from ten
to fifteen men in each. At this part of the line there were none of the
very deep shell-proof shelters, from fifteen to twenty feet below the
surface of the ground, of which I had read. Most of the men seemed to be
glad of this. They preferred taking their chances in an open trench
during heavy shell fire.

Realists and Romanticists lived side by side in the traveling trench. "My
Little Gray Home in the West" was the modest legend over one apartment.
The "Ritz Carlton" was next door to "The Rats' Retreat," with "Vermin
Villa" next door but one. "The Suicide Club" was the suburban residence
of some members of the bombing squad. I remarked that the bombers seemed
to take rather a pessimistic view of their profession, whereupon Shorty
told me that if there were any men slated for the Order of the Wooden
Cross, the bombers were those unfortunate ones. In an assault they were
first at the enemy's position. They had dangerous work to do even on the
quietest of days. But theirs was a post of honor, and no one of them but
was proud of his membership in the Suicide Club.

The officers' quarters were on a much more generous and elaborate scale
than those of the men. This I gathered from Shorty's description of them,
for I saw only the exteriors as we passed along the trench. Those for
platoon and company commanders were built along the traveling trench. The
colonel, major, and adjutant lived in a luxurious palace, about fifty
yards down a communication trench. Near it was the officers' mess, a cafe
de luxe with glass panels in the door, a cooking stove, a long wooden
table, chairs,--everything, in fact, but hot and cold running water.

"You know," said Shorty, "the officers thinks they 'as to rough it, but
they got it soft, I'm tellin' you! Wooden bunks to sleep in, batmen to
bring 'em 'ot water fer shavin' in the mornin', all the fags they
wants,--Blimy, I wonder wot they calls livin' 'igh?"

I agreed that in so far as living quarters are concerned, they were
roughing it under very pleasant circumstances. However, they were not
always so fortunate, as later experience proved. Here there had been
little serious fighting for months and the trenches were at their best.
Elsewhere the officers' dugouts were