which dwarfed into insignificance
all previous events in life. We had our fun, we had our jokes, we met
our friends, we saw battalions go on a route march, we watched men
play their games in the fields; but to me it seemed that a new and
mysterious light that was born of heaven hid behind the sunshine, and
cast a glory upon men and even nature. To dine at the rude board table
with the young officers of one of the companies of a battalion,
perhaps in a bare hut, on the floor of which lay the lads' beds, was
something sacred and sacramental. Their apologies for the plainness of
the repast were to me extremely pathetic. Was there a table in the
whole world at which it was a greater honour to sit? Where could one
find a nobler, knightlier body of young men?

In the garden round the Chateau at Warlus were many winding paths,
where old trees gave a delightful shade. Here at odd moments one (p. 300)
could get away for a time into the leafy solitude and think quietly
and wonder. Although we were in rest there was of course no remission
of warlike activity and preparation. We knew that the next thing that
lay before us was the crossing of the Canal du Nord and the push to
Cambrai. That was a deed which would not only tax our strength and
courage, but depended for its success upon the care and diligence of
our preparation.

On the two Sundays that we were at Warlus I had splendid church
parades with the Machine-Gun Battalion. Part of their billets were in
huts beside the road to Dainville. In one of them one night I found
some Imperial officers who were in charge of the wireless telegraph
station. They told me some interesting facts about their work. The
night was divided into different periods when the communiques of the
various countries would be sent out. These, of course, were for all
the world to read. The most wonderful thing they told me, however, was
that they could pick up the code messages sent from the German
Admiralty Headquarters at Kiel to their submarines under the sea. Of
course not knowing the code, our officers could not translate these
despatches.

I received a great blow at this time, for my friend Lyons, who acted
as the chauffeur of my side-car, was sent off to the 3rd Division to
replace one of the despatch riders whom they had lost in the attack.
Our own signallers could not give me another man. As I could not run
the car myself, a sudden move might compel me to leave it behind.
Someone, too, might