eyes, came to us in a panic. He ran to me, and
pressed his head HARD against my leg. So I got him a safe place and he
sticks by us. We call him Fleabag, for he looks like it.

This night they shelled us again heavily for some hours--the same
shorts, hits, overs on percussion, and great yellow-green air bursts.
One feels awfully irritated by the constant din--a mixture of anger and
apprehension.

Friday, April 30th, 1915.

Thick mist this morning, and relative quietness; but before it cleared
the Germans started again to shell us. At 10 it cleared, and from 10 to
2 we fired constantly. The French advanced, and took some ground on our
left front and a batch of prisoners. This was at a place we call Twin
Farms. Our men looked curiously at the Boches as they were marched
through. Some better activity in the afternoon by the Allies'
aeroplanes. The German planes have had it too much their way lately.
Many of to-day's shells have been very large--10 or 12 inch; a lot of
tremendous holes dug in the fields just behind us.

Saturday, May 1st, 1915.

May day! Heavy bombardment at intervals through the day. Another
heavy artillery preparation at 3.25, but no French advance. We fail
to understand why, but orders go. We suffered somewhat during the day.
Through the evening and night heavy firing at intervals.

Sunday, May 2nd, 1915.

Heavy gunfire again this morning. Lieut. H---- was killed at the guns.
His diary's last words were, "It has quieted a little and I shall try to
get a good sleep." I said the Committal Service over him, as well as
I could from memory. A soldier's death! Batteries again registering
barrages or barriers of fire at set ranges. At 3 the Germans attacked,
preceded by gas clouds. Fighting went on for an hour and a half, during
which their guns hammered heavily with some loss to us. The French lines
are very uneasy, and we are correspondingly anxious. The infantry fire
was very heavy, and we fired incessantly, keeping on into the night.
Despite the heavy fire I got asleep at 12, and slept until daylight
which comes at 3.

Monday, May 3rd, 1915.

A clear morning, and the accursed German aeroplanes over our positions
again. They are usually fired at, but no luck. To-day a shell on our
hill dug out a cannon ball about six inches in diameter--probably of
Napoleon's or earlier times--heavily rusted. A German attack began, but
half an hour of artillery fire drove it back. Major----, R.A.,