could be buried. A man told me that one
night when he had come down from the line very late, he found a dugout
full of men wrapped in their blankets, every one apparently asleep.
Without more ado, he crawled in amongst them and slept soundly till
morning. When he awoke, he found to his horror that he had slept all
night among the dead men in the morgue. There was a cemetery at
Railway Dugouts, which was carefully laid out. Beyond this there was
another line of sandbag homes on one side of a large pond called
"Zillebeke Lake." They were used by other divisions.

From Railway Dugouts, by paths and then by communication trenches, one
made one's way up to Hill 60 and the other parts of the front line,
where the remains of a railway crossed the hill. Our dugouts were on
the east side of it, and the line itself was called "Lover's Lane".
The brick arch of a bridge which crossed the line was part of our
front.

One day I was asked by a British chaplain, who was ordered south, to
accompany him on a trip he was making to his brother's grave at Hooge.
He wished to mark it by a cross. As the place was in full view of the
Germans, we had to visit it before dawn. I met my friend at 2.30 a.m.
in the large dugout under the Ramparts at Ypres. We started off with
two runners, but one managed most conveniently to lose us and (p. 125)
returned home. The other accompanied us all the way. It was a weird
expedition. The night was partly cloudy, and faint moonlight struggled
through the mist which shrouded us. The runner went first, and the
Padre, who was a tall man, followed, carrying the cross on his
shoulder. I brought up the rear. In the dim light, my friend looked
like some allegorical figure from "Pilgrim's Progress". Occasionally
we heard the hammering of a machine-gun, and we would lie down till
the danger was past. We skirted the grim borders of Sanctuary Wood,
and made our way to Hooge. There my friend got out his map to find, if
possible, the place where he had buried his brother. He sat down in a
large shell hole, and turned his flashlight upon the paper. It was
difficult to find the location, because the place had recently been
the scene of a hard struggle. The guide and I looked over the ground
and we found a line of graves marked by broken crosses. The night was
fast passing and in the grey of the eastern sky the stars were going
out one by one. At last my friend found the spot he was looking for
and there he set up the