ack at us soon, you will see!" said one
of the officers who was at our observation post. "They always do. The
other day they chose this particular spot for their target"--which was a
good reason why they would not this time, an optimist thought.

Let either side start a bombardment and the other responds. There is
a you-hit-me-and-I'll-hit-you character about siege warfare. Gun-fire
provokes gun-fire. Neither adversary stays quiet under a blow. It was
not long before we heard the whish of German shells passing some
distance away.

They say sport is out of war. Perhaps, but not its enthralling and
horrible fascination. Knowing what the target is, knowing the object of
the fire, hearing the scream of the projectile on the way and watching
to see if it is to be a hit, when the British are fighting the Germans on
the soil of France, has an intensive thrill which is missing to the
spectator who looks on at the Home Sports Club shooting at clay
pigeons--which is not in justification of war. It does explain, however,
the attraction of gunnery to gunners. One forgets, for the instant, that
men are being killed and mangled. He thinks only of points scored in
a contest which requires all the wit and strength and fortitude of man
and all his cunning in the manufacture and control of material.

You want your side to win; in this case, because it is the side of
humanity and of that kindly general and the things that he and the
army he represents stand for. The blows which the demons from the
British lairs strike are to you the blows of justice; and you are glad
when they go home. They are your blows. You have a better reason
for keeping an army's artillery secrets than for keeping secret the
signals of your Varsity football team, which anyone instinctively
keeps--the reason of a world cause.

Yet another thing to see--an aeroplane assisting a battery by spotting
the fall of its shells, which is engrossing enough, too, and amazingly
simple. Of course this battery was proud of its method of
concealment. Each battery commander will tell you that a British
plane has flown very low, as a test, without being able to locate his
battery. If it is located, there is more work due in "make-up" to
complete the disguise. Competition among batteries is as keen as
among battleships of our North Atlantic fleet.

Situation favoured this battery, which was Canadian. It was as nicely
at home as a first-class Adirondack camp. At any rate, no other