tle of Calais. It was
during that time that I lost my friend, with whom I joined.
Since we were thirteen years old we've been inseparable.
Only 40 per cent. of the draft I was on are left, and in my
pocket I have a long list of chums whom I shall never see
again in this world. It seems wonderful to me that I should
be spared whilst so many better men go. Naturally I am
thankful, especially for mother's sake, that I have escaped
so far. Only once during the eight months out here have I
been more than ten miles from the firing line, and ten miles
is nothing to a gun.

"Well, now I must knock off for dinner, the variety of which
never changes. You've heard of 'Stew, stew, glorious stew';
perhaps, however, beer was the subject then. Well, I'll
resume at the first possible moment; for, in the Army, what
you don't go and fetch you never see, and then again, first
come first served, last man the grouts."

* * * * *

"Here we are again; I was last for dinner, but didn't do
badly by reason of it. I am writing this at a house which
our Chaplain has put at our disposal. It's quite a treat to
sit on a chair and write at a table, after sitting on the
ground with knees up and a bad light.

"The trenches are in a rotten state now owing to the heavy
rain and the snow. It's like walking on a sponge about
eighteen inches deep. Squelch, squelch you go and not
infrequently get stuck; parts are knee deep in water, and
icy cold water trickling into your boots is the reverse of
pleasant or warm. Then the rain trickles through the
dug-out roof--that caps it. I really don't think there can
be anything more irritating than the drip, drip in the
region of the head. Then of course your hands are covered in
mud, for as you walk along you need your hands to keep your
balance, and the sides are all muddy as well. You come
inside then and eat your quarter of a loaf for breakfast and
go without for tea--the usual ration is one-third of a loaf,
which generally is found sufficient. We get jam, too, and
bacon daily, butter three times a week, and stew for dinner
every day in trenches or not.

"Our sergeant took us to the whizbangs concert party last
night. It was A1--one chap makes his fiddle absolutely
speak. He played