leasant ride, because, apart from the mist and the
darkness, I was stopped every few yards by sentries of the West Kents, a
regiment which has now about the best reputation of any battalion out
here. I returned in time to snatch a couple of hours of sleep before we
started at dawn for Belgium.

When the Division moves we ride either with the column or go in advance
to the halting-place. That morning we rode with the column, which meant
riding three-quarters of a mile or so and then waiting for the
main-guard to come up,--an extraordinarily tiring method of getting
along.

The day (August 21) was very hot indeed, and the troops who had not yet
got their marching feet suffered terribly, even though the people by the
wayside brought out fruit and eggs and drinks. There was murmuring when
some officers refused to allow their men to accept these gifts. But a
start had to be made some time, for promiscuous drinks do not increase
marching efficiency. We, of course, could do pretty well what we liked.
A little coffee early in the morning, and then anything we cared to ask
for. Most of us in the evening discovered, unpleasantly enough,
forgotten pears in unthought-of pockets.

About 1.30 we neared Bavai, and I was sent on to find out about
billeting arrangements, but by the time they were completed the rest had
arrived.

For a long time we were hutted in the Square. Spuggy found a "friend,"
and together we obtained a good wash. The people were vociferously
enthusiastic. Even the chemist gave us some "salts" free of charge.

My first ride from Bavai began with a failure, as, owing to belt-slip, I
endeavoured vainly to start for half an hour (or so it seemed) in the
midst of an interested but sympathetic populace. A smart change saw me
tearing along the road to meet with a narrow escape from untimely death
in the form of a car, which I tried to pass on the wrong side. In the
evening we received our first batch of pay, and dining magnificently at
a hotel, took tearful leave of Huggie and Spuggy. They had been chosen,
they said, to make a wild dash through to Liege. We speculated darkly on
their probable fate. In the morning we learned that we had been hoaxed,
and used suitable language.

We slept uncomfortably on straw in a back yard, and rose again just
before dawn. We breakfasted hastily at a cafe, and were off just as the
sun had risen.

Our day's march was to Dour, in Belgium, and for us a bad day's march it
was. My jo