ople who had occupied the
Chateau since we were there must have experienced an air raid, because
extraordinary precautions had been taken to guard against bombs. I lit
my lamp and found that the bed was surrounded on all sides by a (p. 252)
wall composed of two thicknesses of sandbags. When I got down Into it
I felt as if I were in a grave. In the morning I got my batman to
remove the fortification, as I thought there was no occasion to
anticipate the sensations of being buried. However, at night I often
heard German aeroplanes overhead, and it was a relief when their
intermittent buzzing died off into the distance.

We were now a long way from the front line, but by jumping lorries I
was still able to go forward and visit the slums. On returning from
such a visit one afternoon I suffered a great loss. The order had gone
out some time before that all stray dogs were to be shot, and many
poor little four-footed souls were sent into whatever happy land is
reserved for the race which has been the earliest and best friend of
man. I had kept a sharp lookout on Alberta, but I never dreamt that
anyone would shoot her. However, that evening while I was getting
ready to go off to Ecoivres, and Alberta was playing in front of my
hut, the sergeant of the police, carried her off, unknown to me, and
ordered a man to shoot her. When I came out from my hut, and whistled
for my faithful friend, I was told that she had been condemned to
death. I could hardly believe it; but to my dismay I found that it was
only too true, and the poor little dog, who was known all over the
Division and had paid many visits to the trenches, was not only shot
but buried. Filled with righteous anger, I had the body disinterred
and a proper grave dug for it in front of a high tree which stands on
a hill at the back of the grounds. There, surrounded by stones, is the
turf-covered mound, and on the tree is nailed a white board with this
epitaph neatly painted in black:--

HERE LIES ALBERTA
of Albert
Shot April 24th, 1918.

The dog that by a cruel end
Now sleeps beneath this tree,
Was just the little dog and friend
God wanted her to be.

Alberta, much respected in life, was honoured in death, for nearly all
the men at Headquarters were present when she was buried, and one of
them told me that at a word from me they would lay out the police. (p. 253)
I should have liked to have given the word, but I told them that we
had