week, so much had happened since then.

As it was only possible to go into the trenches at dusk we still had
some time to spare, and after drinking everybody's health in some
excellent benedictine, Major R. suggested we should make a tour of
inspection of the village. "The bombardment is over for the day," he
added, "so you need have no fear." I went out wondering at his certainty
that the Boche would _not_ bombard again that afternoon. It transpired
later that they did so regularly at the same time every afternoon as
part of the day's work! There did come a time, however, when they
changed the programme, but that was later, on another visit.

We made for the church which had according to custom been shelled more
than the houses. The large crucifix was lying with arms outstretched on
a pile of wreckage, the body pitted with shrapnel. The cure accompanied
us, and it was all the poor old man could do to keep from breaking down
as he led us mournfully through that devastated cemetery. Some of the
graves, even those with large slabs over them, had been shelled to such
an extent that the stone coffins beneath could clearly be seen, half
opened, with rotting grave-clothes, and in others even the skeletons had
been disinterred. New graves, roughly fashioned like the one we had seen
in the back garden at headquarters, were dotted all over the place.
Somehow they were not so sinister as those old heavily slabbed ones
disturbed after years of peace. The cure took me into the church, the
walls of which were still standing, and begged me to take a photo of a
special statue (this was before cameras were tabooed), which I did. I
had to take a "time" as the light was so bad, and quite by luck it came
out splendidly and I was able to send him a copy.

It was all most depressing and I was jolly glad to get away from the
place. On the way back we saw a battery of _sept-cinqs_ (French
seventy-fives) cleverly hidden by branches. They had just been moved up
into these new positions. Of course the booming of the guns went on all
the time and we were told Nieuport was having its daily "ration." We had
several other places to go to to deliver Hospital stores; also two
advanced dressing stations to visit, so we pushed off, promising Major
R. to be back at 6.30.

We had to go in the direction of Dixmude, then in German occupation, and
the mud at this point was too awful for words, while at intervals there
were huge shell holes full of water l