as-Bethune
Road. At a place called Maison Blanche there was a large cavern which
was used as a billet for one of the battalions in reserve. Some
strange stories were told about the fighting that had taken place in
it between the French and the Germans at the beginning of the war. I
went down into it one evening when the 16th Battalion was there. It
was a most picturesque place. The walls and roof were white chalk and
the place was cut up by passages and openings which led into other
caves. The atmosphere was smoky, and a multitude of candles lit up the
strange abode. The men were cooking in their mess tins, some were
playing cards, and some were examining the seams of their shirts. I
told them I was going to have a service at one end of the cavern and I
proceeded thither with a good number following. Some of the card
players seemed too interested in their game to care to attend, and so
I called out to the men in a loud voice not to make too much noise,
lest they should disturb the gamblers. One of the men who was playing
cards responded "If you will wait till we have finished this hand,
Sir, we will all come too." I made the announcement therefor that we
would not begin till the players were ready. The result of this was
that in a very little while all the men came and joined in the
service.

The possession of the Ridge gave the Germans a great advantage, because
it commanded a view of a very large piece of country and several main
roads. Further up the road from Maison Blanche there was a place
called Arriane Dump, where the Engineers had stored material in
preparation for our attack. A long plank road connected it with the
Anzin-St. Eloi road. On a dark and rainy night that wooden track (p. 165)
was an unpleasant place for a walk. Lorries, wagons, limbers, transports,
horses and men crowded it, and the traffic every now and then would
get blocked. No flashlights could be used, and it was hard to escape
being run over. Yet to step off the boards meant to sink almost to
your knees in mud. The language that one heard at such times in the
darkness was not quite fit for ears polite. It is well that the horses
were not able to understand the uncomplimentary speeches that were
addressed to them.

There was a tremendous concentration of artillery in the back area.
The town of Anzin, on the bank of the river Scarpe, was filled with
heavy batteries. To ride through it was to run the risk of many
unpleasant surprises from t