ins why for
three days I was able to inform the camp commandant, Ronny Hertford,
and all their party, of the latest happenings at the Front, hours
before the French newspapers and the Continental 'Daily Mail' arrived.

And what do you think the men of two of our batteries were doing an
hour after the camps were pitched and the horses watered?--playing a
football match! Marvellous fellows!

We stayed at Estree until the evening of the 28th, days of gossip and
of fairly confident expectations, for we knew now that the Boche's
first offensive was held--but a time of waiting and of wondering where
we were to be sent next. Division was nearly thirty miles away,
incorporated with the French Army, and still fighting, while Corps
seemed to have forgotten that we needed supplies. Still there was no
need to worry about food and forage. Estree was an important railhead,
and the supply officer seemed anxious to get his stores distributed as
soon as they came in: he was prepared to treat most comers as
famine-stricken stragglers. Besides, near the station stood an enormous
granary, filled to the brim, simply waiting to be requisitioned.

About noon on the 28th we were very cast down by the news that, to meet
the demand for reinforcements, the Brigade might be disbanded, and the
gunners hurried off in driblets, to make up losses on various parts of
our particular Army's front.

The colonel had instructions to attend a Staff Conference in the
afternoon, and each battery was ordered to prepare a list of its
available gunners.

There were sore hearts that afternoon. Many of the men had been with
the Brigade since it was formed, and to be scattered broadcast after
doing well, and coming through a time of stress and danger together,
would knock the spirit out of every one. The colonel came back at
tea-time, impassive, walking briskly. I knew before he opened his lips
that the Brigade was saved. "We move to-night to Pont St Maxence. We
are going on to Poix to refit," was all he said.

* * * * *

Every one was anxious to be off, fearing that the Staff might change
its mind. It rained in torrents that night, and owing to the Corps'
failure to map out proper accommodation arrangements, we slept anyhow
and anywhere, but no one minded much. The Brigade was still in being,
and nothing else mattered. I could tell many stories of the next few
days--marching and billeting and getting ready for action again; of