o give me a soft
Blighty an' a drop of toddy, an', oh, some bloomin' fags."

"Can't be done, for something will 'appen to me to-morrow."

He was wrong; decided that the spook had altered for his own good
reasons the daily course of his life and eagerly awaited a visit that
never materialised. Stumpy was disgusted.

"All me eye. I know it wasn't a bloomin' spook when I 'eard 'e 'adn't
asked for a drink. Wot on earth would anyone visit these yere bloomin'
trenches for unless he smelt rum?"

"You don't understand."

"No, an' bloomin' well don't want to. A spook wot rejoins 'is ole
friends on earth an' don't even offer 'em a drink is unnatural--that's
wot I say."

The large, dry and roomy dug-out beloved by the armchair artist, very,
very rarely offers its cosy hospitality to the warrior dwelling in the
Front Line--even if there is anything bearing a faint resemblance to
such an elaboration it is immediately seized by Company Headquarters.
The inter-connecting series of holes occupied by the Normans and
flattered with the term "trenches" had cut here and there into the wet
soil a number of side excavations of smart proportions that served the
purpose of shelter from the elements and shells alike--a heavy barrage
from a pea-shooter would have blown in the muddy roofs of these
water-logged death traps.

To reach the rear lines movement could only be made ON THE TOP and fully
exposed to enemy snipers, who, suffering badly from forced inactivity
and ennui, delighted to exercise their shooting powers by a few minutes'
pleasant concentration upon your helpless figure.

Mud and water, upon which floated an interesting conglomeration of
filthy rubbish, flowed saucily around your ankles, sometimes your
knees, and when you fell off a high duckboard, your neck.

The humour of it--afterwards! The acute misery and suffering of those
long, long nights standing in water; cold, hungry and weary. Body aching
from the fierce winter's blast and the fingers gone stiff, immovable,
almost unfeeling ... with no hope for the future, but always the
ceaseless watch and wait until the great Peace of Death overtakes the
tired body and a troubled soul leaves its burden to be carried on by
those who follow after.

Rain lashed stinging into the face, dripping in rivulets from off the
steel helmet and forcing its way into the neck ... the shrieking of an
unnerving wind ... the blast of mighty shell ... the gas ... death was
NOT the worst alte