was during this
battle he earned the M.C.

My brother became very popular with those he met in France. Too
popular, indeed, with the girls in the hotel at Amiens to please Maude
or myself. Maude and I used to complain about it. Maude would say,
"William, here you and I have been slaving for months to make
ourselves liked by these girls, and your blinking little brother comes
along, and cuts us out in a few days. It's disgusting." It was true:
Maude, the A.P.M., and I, "le petit Major," took a back seat. We
worked hard to prevent it, my brother did nothing: he kept silent,
laughed, and won. It was very sad, and we were much upset.

CHAPTER IX (p. 062)

WINTER (1917-1918)

Christmas came with much snow and ice. Maude and I went to dinner at
Captain MacColl's mess in the Boulevard Belfort. Maude remarked once,
"MacColl is the only intelligent Intelligence Officer I know." We had
a great dinner, and at 10 p.m. Maude and I went, in a blinding
snowstorm, to the police concert. I'll never forget the fug in that
place: it reeked of sweat, drink, goose and fags. They were all very
happy, these huge men; all singing the saddest songs they could think
of, including, of course, "The Long, Long Trail." American police were
there also. They had come to Amiens to learn their job. We left late,
but we had promised to return to MacColl's mess, so started for there,
but after we had fallen in the snow a few times, we gave the idea up
and went to bed.

About this time I went to H.Q. Tanks, and painted the General and
Hotblack, and had a most interesting time. General Elles was a great
chap, full of "go," and a tremendous worker. Hotblack, mild and
gentle, full of charm; one could hardly imagine he had all those
D.S.O.'s, and wound stripes--Hotblack, who liked to go for a walk and
sit down and read poetry. He said it took his mind off devising plans
to kill people better than anything else.

Then there was the "Colonel" of the Tanks--"Napoleon," they called
him. A great brain he had. Before the war he knew his Chelsea well,
and the Cafe Royal and all the set who went there. And there was a (p. 063)
dear young Highlander also, a most gentle, shy youth. He was very
happy one day; he had a "topping" time. He was out with the Tanks, and
he killed a German despatch-rider and rode home on his bicycle.

[Illustration: XXVI. _Some Members of the Allied Press Camp._]

O