ed however that
several things had happened during our absence. On the road to St.
Eloi and about five hundred yards behind our front line, had been a
Belgian farm called Bus House. (A London omnibus was lying, smashed,
in front of it.) This place was now but a pile of brick and timbers.
To the left, another group of farm buildings, called Shelley Farm, was
in about the same condition, and where St. Eloi had been was nothing
but a barren waste. Not a sign of a house or any part of a house was
visible; not a brick remained and even the roads, the fine stone-paved
roads, had been obliterated. Where had been hedges or trees there was
nothing but a desolate expanse of mud which, from a distance, appeared
to be a smooth level plain. For a good six hundred yards back of our
front line there was not a shrub or bush or tree nor any landmark of
any kind. Every inch of this ground had been churned over and over
again by shells. Literally, it was not possible to set foot on a spot
which had not been upturned. The whole area was simply a continuation
of shell craters, joined and interlocked without a break. Where our
communication and support trenches had been it was just the same. No
man could have gone over that ground and said: "Here was a house," or
"There was a field," or "That was once a road," because house, turnip
field and road looked exactly alike. The great granite blocks of the
road had been pulverized to dust, and the bricks of the houses had
shared a like fate. Even the contour of the ground was changed--ditches,
depressions and ridges having been hammered to a uniform elevation.

And every hole was full of water. To traverse this desert one must
wade and flounder through liquid mud waist deep and sometimes deeper.
Yet it had to be done. We had nine positions up there at each of which
a handful of men must be relieved daily; or rather nightly, as it was,
obviously, impossible to move about over that open expanse in
daylight. Every yard of it was under scrutiny from the German lines
and, even at night, owing to the lavish use of star-shells by the
enemy, it was a long and slow journey as it was necessary to stop and
remain absolutely quiet when a light came near.

The hardest thing about the whole business was to find the men who
were to be relieved. There was no path nor road nor landmark of any
kind. During the time we were in, it rained continuously and at no
time was a star visible. The positions where they were s