able to make his way back. The Germans got him, stripped him of his
uniform, and left him against the wire. The weather being intensely
cold, the man soon died from exposure. These two incidents illustrate
the two extremes in the attitude of the Huns towards the British. One
was a brutal act of hatred, the other a humane act, which commends
itself to both friend and foe.

[Illustration: To see ourselves as others see us.]

The Germans have been credited with almost every conceivable
atrocity that man is capable of perpetrating. Whether these
brutalities are perpetrated with the sanction of the German
authorities, or are merely the expression of individual hatred, one is
not prepared to state. We have ceased to be angry with or alarmed at
their tactics of intimidation. We interpret every act of frightfulness
as evidence of desperate conditions. The only effect that such
devilish methods have upon the men in the lines is to make them more
determined to crush the mad and murderous spirit of militarism which
holds the Hun in its merciless grip.

During ordinary trench warfare the enemy appears to concentrate his
artillery fire on to the towns and villages at the back of our lines.
Villages have been practically eliminated and large towns reduced to a
heap of ruins. The destruction of these places is of no military
consequence. It is pure vandalism.

Bairnsfather's sketches portraying the humour and coolness that such
critical conditions create are in no particular exaggerated. A
certain building, prominently situated in a fairly large town, within
easy range of the enemy guns, was being used as B.H.Qs. It afforded
accommodation for about twelve officers and as many other ranks. The
outskirts of the town had been subjected to severe shelling during the
day. Towards evening the shelling ceased, but commenced again about
midnight; on this occasion the shells were directed more to the centre
of the town. Pieces of iron and a hail of shrapnel descended upon the
roof of our billet. All were awakened by the noise. From different
parts of the building the same query was advanced: 'Are you all
right?' Then a hurried conference was held, and the C.O. decided that
discretion was the better part of valour. With the aid of electric
torches we collected our blankets, etc., and descended to the cellar.
Everybody was cheerful. The report of the guns somewhere along the
enemy's lines was heard distinctly, and we would wait for the swish