s an envelope.
If, Charles, you hear a rumour that my battalion has been sent across
Germany to join the Russians on the other side _by parcel post_, don't
be too ready to dismiss it as an absurdity.

Everybody has got somebody to look after him here. There was an instance
on the range yesterday. The men were firing their standard tests and
there were rumours of an inspection. The N.C.O.'s in charge, being a bit
anxious themselves, were seeing to it that the privates did their duty.
Be sure we kept a relentless eye on the N.C.O.'s, and the Major in
charge of the whole Musketry Detachment did not deal gently with us.
Then the Adjutant loomed up, and the Major had to explain himself as
best he could; next came the Brigadier, and the Adjutant was on his
defence. Just as the Brigadier was getting into his stride, "The
General, Sir," whispered the Brigade-Major, and it was then for the
Brigadier to account for things being as they were and to promise that
very shortly they should be otherwise. You'd have thought that a man so
mature and beribboned as our Divisional Commander would be immune from
attack; but not so, for up rolled a motor which had come all the way
from London and the War Office and even the dear old General was found
to be capable of error. You may imagine that the five rounds which were
being shot all this while by a mere private were somewhat spasmodic,
especially as he was used by all parties as an illustration of their
particular meanings. Standing by myself all the time while this unhappy
man was severally instructed by N.C.O., Lieutenant, Major, Adjutant,
Brigadier, General and Permanent Staff, I was a little amused to note
that even so he failed to pass his test! And they all told him on no
account to be nervous about it.

You know the song, "Where the wind blows, we'll go"? It is a great
favourite on the march; and full marching kit, together with eighty
rounds of ball ammunition carried by each man, cannot stop it. It is not
a beautiful thing in itself, and it is not made more attractive by being
sung when the band is playing something else. But it takes little to
turn a bad thing into a good one. This morning Lieut. Wentworth, not
usually mounted, took out a party for a route march, borrowing the
Adjutant's horse for the purpose. As the party marched away at ease,
some of their friends asked them where they were going. They answered to
music: "Where the horse goes, we'll go." Wentworth tells me tha