en when the trenches are very close together. One gets quite used to
walking about freely in this light, going out in front of the parapet
and having a look round. The only time that really makes one
apprehensive is when some gang of men or other turn up from way back
somewhere, and have come to assist in some operation near the enemy.
They, being unfamiliar with the caution needed, and unappreciative of
what it's like to have neighbours who "hate" you sixty yards away,
generally bring trouble in their wake by one of the party shouting out
in a deep bass or a shrill soprano, "'Ere, chuck us the 'ammer, 'Arry,"
or something like that, following the remark up with a series of
vulcan-like blows on the top of an iron post. Result: three star shells
soar out into the frosty air, and a burst of machine-gun fire skims over
the top of your head.

We made a very excellent and strong emplacement on the road, and used it
henceforth. I had a lot of bother with one gun in those trenches, which
was placed at very nearly the left-hand end of the whole line. I had
been obliged to fix the gun there, as it was very necessary for
dominating a certain road. But when I took the place over from the
previous battalion, I thought there might be difficulties about this gun
position, and there were. The night before we had made our inspection of
these trenches, a shell had landed right on top of the gun emplacement
and had "outed" the whole concern, unfortunately killing two of the gun
section belonging to the former battalion. For some reason or other that
end of our line was always being shelled. Just in the same way as they
plunked shells daily into St. Yvon, so they did here. Each morning, with
hardly ever a miss, they shelled our trenches, but almost invariably in
the same place: the left-hand end. The difference between St. Yvon and
this place was, however, that here they always shelled with "heavies."
Right back at the Douve farm a mile away, the thundering crash of one of
these shells would rattle all the windows and make one say, "Where did
that one go?"

All round that neighbourhood it seemed to have been the fashion, past
and present, to use the largest shells. In going along the Douve one
day, I made a point of measuring and examining several of the holes. I
took a photograph of one, with my cap resting on one side of it, to show
the relative proportion and give an idea of the size. It was about
fourteen feet in diameter, and seven