ers can fire almost like a machine-gun, and the
noise is deafening.

As a nation the French have their faults. They are exceedingly proud
and quick to take offence, they are not very stable or constant
(obstinate shall we say?), and they are about the hardest bargainers
in the world.

Thrift and making use of the shining hour have been driven to their
last conclusions. The British soldiers have been made to pay very
sweetly for their visit to France. I do not think the French ever gave
the British such a warm welcome as the Belgians did.

But when all is said and done we all have our own faults, and the
Frenchman's most shining virtue is patriotism.

XXI

SOUTH OF THE SOMME

After staying for about a week or more at Dernancourt, the Brigade
received orders to go south of the Somme, and to take over part of the
line won by the French this side of Peronne. We marched, therefore,
through Bray and stayed two nights at Mericourt and two at
Fontaine-les-Cappy. At the latter place I was surprised to find some
graves of British soldiers who had fallen there in the earlier part of
the war. Also I had one exciting experience at Fontaine-les-Cappy.
There was a large grenade dump near our camp, and, just as I was
passing it, an explosion took place. A party of men had been
detonating grenades, and two or three grenades had gone off in the
box, killing two of the party and hurling the grenades in a shower all
round the place. One fell close, and I was lucky not to be riddled by
it. For the safety-pin was blown out and the lever of the grenade held
down by a piece of wood from the side of the box, which was jammed by
the explosion into the shoulder of the grenade. I spent a little time
picking up such grenades as I could find, and two or three of them
were in a dangerous condition.

When we got into the line near Belloy I lived for a time at advanced
B.H.Q. called 'P.C. Hedevaux' ('Post Commandant' _Hedevaux_). The
dugouts were deep and proof against ordinary shells. The General,
Brigade-Major, and Staff-Captain resided farther back at 'P.C.
Buelow.' I was shown over the trenches by the _officier bombardier_
(Bombing Officer) of a French unit. And I found it fairly easy to talk
to him without the aid of an interpreter. I told him two English
expressions which seemed to please him greatly. One was 'dugout,' the
other 'dump'; the equivalent for the latter in French being 'Depot de
Munitions.'

I made an entirely new