talking to was Sergeant
Driscoll, whom you will remember in the regiment; and that a sergeant
of the Lincolns was killed in my lines exactly the same way the day
before. I enclose Mr. Aitchison's letter. I did not realize that it
was his only son. I heard from Mrs. Baker yesterday in reply to a
letter of mine. She compliments you on your letters, saying you are
quite a soldier's wife.... I calculate that I might, but only might,
get away about February 28th for a week if nothing turns up in the
interval; but, again, I was told that all leave was stopped in the 7th
Division, so I am doubtful what will happen. Perhaps the war will end
soon. Who knows?...

IN TRENCHES.
_February 12th, 1915._

Your letter not come yet, but posts do not always fit. We had a couple
of amusements yesterday. One was the opening of fire from quite a new
direction by the Germans. Fortunately, not very heavy, though. The
other thing was that our house caught fire last night about 5.30.
Major B. and the sergeant-major made the discovery. It originated with
the guard, who, of course, were the last to find it out! Major B. and
the Sgt. Major were both invaluable, but my first business was to see
that the sentry was alert, so that we could carry on our operations
without being surprised by our opponents. Next I got a ladder from a
ruin, put a man up it with a hose, and said: "There are great gaping
holes in the tiles everywhere; pull off the remaining ones, and then
we can pour water all over the fire." There were very few, however,
left to pull off, so the work was done and the fire put out in a few
minutes. Lucky for us it was just before dark and the light just
right, otherwise we should have been shelled to pieces. We buried that
poor fellow I spoke about yesterday afternoon with a parson, keeping
my eyes lifted for rifle bullets all the while. I forgot to tell you I
stopped an N.C.O. as I was coming down to the trenches 3 nights ago to
speak to one of our men; immediately afterwards he was hit in the leg
by a bullet. As it was long range, the bullet remained in his calf,
and he went off in an ambulance to have it dug out. One of my poor men
died also this morning; it was astonishing that he was alive at all,
for yesterday a bullet hit him in the head and blew the back of his
head off, and yet he remained alive and quite conscious without pain
till 2 a.m