e large shell had a curious
experience. It fell in the road to the south of Bully-Grenay, (p. 194)
burrowing under the ground without exploding. Then it rose and went
through the side of a brick house, and finally reposed on the floor of
an upper room. We all went to see it lying there, like some gigantic
sea monster dead and stranded on the shore. The potential force of the
huge shell was enormous, but it lay there perfectly harmless after its
strange pilgrimage.

I was passing one of the siege batteries one day, when I saw a number
of men working round a damaged gun-pit. I went over to it and found
that a shell had landed there that morning, just as they were changing
shifts on the guns. It had killed and buried a number of the men, at
the same time setting fire to our ammunition. The bodies of those who
were buried were burnt almost to ashes by the terrific heat, and only
charred bits of them were recovered.

South of Loos there was the famous Double Crassier. It was a large
slag heap on which once ran a line of railway. The top, of course, was
in sight of the Germans, but down in the hollow on our side of it we
had a great number of battery positions. That little corner where our
guns were concentrated was an easy target for the German artillery,
and many were the high explosives and gas-shells which they dropped.
In the town of Maroc itself there was a large fosse or mine-head. The
buildings round it were capacious, and well made. They were of course
now much damaged, but the cellars were extraordinarily commodious and
extensive. They were lined with white tiles, and the largest one was
fitted up as a place of rest and amusement with a canteen where the
men could get coffee, cakes and cigarettes. I stationed one of our
chaplains there to look after the work and hold services in one of the
cellars which was fitted up as a chapel. In the large room there were
benches, and a stage afforded a good floor for boxing. I determined to
start boxing there as a sport for the artillerymen, who had few
opportunities of enjoying the entertainments which were given behind
the line. I had a great friend in one of the Highland battalions, who
had been wounded three times in the war, and was heavy-weight champion
of the 1st Division. I got his O.C. to attach him to me, and I placed
him in the cellar at Maroc where he began to instruct the men in the
noble art of self defence. People used to wonder why I had a
prize-fighter at