PTER XXI
Back from leave--That "blinkin' moon"--Johnson 'oles--Tommy
and "frightfulness"--Exploring expedition.

CHAPTER XXII
A daylight stalk--The disused trench--"Did they see me?"--A
good sniping position.

CHAPTER XXIII
Our moated farm--Wulverghem--The Cure's house--A shattered
Church--More "heavies"--A farm on fire.

CHAPTER XXIV
That ration fatigue--Sketches in request--Bailleul--Baths and
lunatics--How to conduct a war.

CHAPTER XXV
Getting stale--Longing for change--We leave the Douve--On the
march--Spotted fever--Ten days' rest.

CHAPTER XXVI
A pleasant change--Suzette, Berthe and Marthe--"La jeune
fille farouche"--Andre.

CHAPTER XXVII
Getting fit--Caricaturing the Cure--"Dirty work ahead"--A
projected attack--Unlooked-for orders.

CHAPTER XXVIII
We march for Ypres--Halt at Locre--A bleak camp and meagre
fare--Signs of battle--First view of Ypres.

CHAPTER XXIX
Getting nearer--A lugubrious party--Still nearer--Blazing
Ypres--Orders for attack.

CHAPTER XXX
Rain and mud--A trying march--In the thick of it--A wounded
officer--Heavy shelling--I get my "quietus!"

CHAPTER XXXI
Slowly recovering--Field hospital--Ambulance train--Back in
England.

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

Bruce Bairnsfather: a photograph

The Birth of "Fragments": Scribbles on the farmhouse walls

That Astronomical Annoyance, the Star Shell

"Plugstreet Wood"

A Hopeless Dawn

The usual line in Billeting Farms

"Chuck us the biscuits, Bill. The fire wants mendin'"

"Shut that blinkin' door. There's a 'ell of a draught in 'ere"

A Memory of Christmas, 1914

The Sentry

A Messines Memory: "'Ow about shiftin' a bit further down the road, Fred?"

"Old soldiers never die"

Photograph of the Author. St. Yvon, Christmas Day, 1914

Off "in" again

"Poor old Maggie! She seems to be 'avin' it dreadful wet at 'ome!"

The Tin-opener

"They're devils to snipe, ain't they, Bill?"

Old Bill

FOREWORD

_Down South, in the Valley of the Somme, far
from the spots recorded in this book, I began
to write this story._

_In billets it was. I strolled across the old
farmyard and into the wood beyond. Sitting
by a gurgling little stream, I began, with the
aid of a notebook and a pencil, to record the
joys and sorrows of my first six months in
France._

_I do not claim any unique quality for these
experiences. Many thousands have had the
same. I have merely,