of the other in tiers of three, with a covering of earth three or four
feet thick. But although they were solidly built they had not been proof
against the rain of high explosives. Many of them were in ruins, the logs
splintered like kindling wood and strewn far and wide over the ground.

We found several dugouts, evidently officers' quarters, which were almost
luxuriously furnished. There were rugs for the wooden floors and pictures
and mirrors for the walls; and in each of them there was the jolliest
little stove with a removable lid. We discovered one of these underground
palaces at the end of a blind alley leading off from the main trench. It
was at least fifteen feet underground, with two stairways leading down to
it, so that if escape was cut off in one direction, it was still possible
to get out on the other side. We immediately took possession, built a
roaring fire, and were soon passing canteens of hot tea around the
circle. Life was worth while again. We all agreed that there were less
comfortable places in which to have breakfast on rainy autumn mornings
than German officers' dug-outs.

The haste with which the Germans abandoned their trenches was evidenced
by the amount of war material which they left behind. We found two
machine guns and a great deal of small-arms ammunition in our own limited
sector of frontage. Rifles, intrenching tools, haversacks, canteens,
greatcoats, bayonets were scattered everywhere. All of this material was
of the very best. Canteens, water-bottles, and small frying-pans were
made of aluminum and most ingeniously fashioned to make them less bulky
for carrying. Some of the bayonets were saw-edged. We found three of
these needlessly cruel weapons in a dugout which bore the following
inscription over the door:--

"_Gott tret' herein. Bring' glueck herein._"

It was an interesting commentary on German character. Tommy Atkins never
writes inscriptions of a religious nature over the doorway of his
splinter-roof shelter. Neither does he file a saw edge on his bayonet.

We found many letters, picture post-cards, and newspapers; among the
latter, one called the "Krieg-Zeitung," published at Lille for the
soldiers in the field, and filled with glowing accounts of battles fought
by the ever victorious German armies.

Death comes swiftly in war. One's life hangs by a thread. The most
trivial circumstance saves or destroys. Mac came into the half-ruined
dugout where the off-duty machi