enjoying our coffee when we were disturbed
by a divisional test alarm. I rushed back, but was thankful to find we
were not included in the amusement. To-day the papers would describe
as "Artillery active on the Western front." They have been putting a
lot of shrapnel over into the front trenches, and did some damage
with one shell to my battalion, who are in at present. They always
seem to shell when I am out (touch wood). I am beginning to hope I am
a safe mascot against shells. I will write about the last few days in
the trenches to-morrow. We had one awful attack on my dug-out--by
mice--I hated it. I can sleep through machine gun fire (I mean the
noise of it) and shells as long as they are not too close, but mice,
ugh! they wake me up at once and I hurl the nearest thing I have at
the noise. Fuller came in the other morning to find my dug-out strewn
with Very pistol cartridges; I found they were useful not only for
sending up lights but also for frightening mice. The rats are more
gentlemanly, so far, they keep themselves to themselves, they have
their own dug-out and have left mine alone so far.

By the way, the "Tatler" and "Punch" have not arrived this week, or
rather last week; I have only had one copy of each so far. It must be
the fault of the bookseller who is sending them, as if posted they
would come through all right. I have just had three days in, and I did
not enjoy the first two, as I had a sort of chill, and only ate a
plate of porridge each day, and, added to that, there was one of our
battalions of our brigade in which I do not like. The last day I was
all right, and the Scots were in, so I enjoyed myself. I usually
attach myself to the nearest company mess, as I have told you, and
mess with them, but with the battalion that I was in with for two of
the three days I preferred to mess alone, and it is not nearly so
nice. To-morrow we go into Divisional Reserve for about a week or a
little more. I shall have a topping billet in the town just close to
here; a nice mess-room with a piano, and a good bedroom. I am thinking
of turning Presbyterian (not seriously) because the padre--Black--is
such an absolutely tophole chap, I see a good deal of him. He is
attached to the 16th Scots, of whom also I see a lot. Padre Black was
offered R.J. Campbell's Church after Campbell, but refused it. His
brother, Hugh Black, is rather famous I think. Anyway, the Padre's a
topper. He is like a ray of sunshine in the trench