ur hill. The good old horses would swing
around at the gallop, pull up in an instant, and stand puffing and
blowing, but with their heads up, as if to say, "Wasn't that well done?"
It makes you want to kiss their dear old noses, and assure them of a
peaceful pasture once more. To-day we got our dressing station dugout
complete, and slept there at night.

Three farms in succession burned on our front--colour in the otherwise
dark. The flashes of shells over the front and rear in all directions.
The city still burning and the procession still going on. I dressed a
number of French wounded; one Turco prayed to Allah and Mohammed all the
time I was dressing his wound. On the front field one can see the dead
lying here and there, and in places where an assault has been they lie
very thick on the front slopes of the German trenches. Our telephone
wagon team hit by a shell; two horses killed and another wounded. I did
what I could for the wounded one, and he subsequently got well. This
night, beginning after dark, we got a terrible shelling, which kept up
till 2 or 3 in the morning. Finally I got to sleep, though it was still
going on. We must have got a couple of hundred rounds, in single or
pairs. Every one burst over us, would light up the dugout, and every hit
in front would shake the ground and bring down small bits of earth on
us, or else the earth thrown into the air by the explosion would come
spattering down on our roof, and into the front of the dugout. Col.
Morrison tried the mess house, but the shelling was too heavy, and he
and the adjutant joined Cosgrave and me, and we four spent an anxious
night there in the dark. One officer was on watch "on the bridge" (as we
called the trench at the top of the ridge) with the telephones.

Monday, April 26th, 1915.

Another day of heavy actions, but last night much French and British
artillery has come in, and the place is thick with Germans. There are
many prematures (with so much firing) but the pieces are usually spread
before they get to us. It is disquieting, however, I must say. And all
the time the birds sing in the trees over our heads. Yesterday up to
noon we fired 3000 rounds for the twenty-four hours; to-day we have
fired much less, but we have registered fresh fronts, and burned some
farms behind the German trenches. About six the fire died down, and we
had a peaceful evening and night, and Cosgrave and I in the dugout made
good use of it. The Colonel has an