re,
of the things that amused us and helped us to carry on, I find that we
were for the most part self-supporting. To the best of my recollection,
except for visits of inspection by the Great Ones, which of course do not
count, there were only two occasions when we had strangers within our
gates.

The first was when the navy, some forty strong, in high spirits and a G.S.
waggon, came to cheer us up.

And here I should like to ask why it is that the moment the sailorman is
ashore he goes forth and looks for a horse, quite regardless as to whether
he has ever put a leg across one before or no. For them, too, a horse has
but one pace: a full-stretch gallop. It took hours to catch all the
riderless horses after the navy had started for their gentle exercise, but
we got heaps of fun out of it and it was very good to see somebody from the
outside world.

The other time was when we had a concert in Moses' Grove and a regimental
band came from El Shatt to entertain us. It was fine to sit there under the
tamarisks around an immense camp-fire and listen to a really good band
playing the old favourites again and giving us a few new ones, to be
whistled or sung about the camp for weeks.

The mail, of course, kept us happy where nothing else could, for not only
was it the single link with home and all that it meant, but it brought us
newspapers which, while carefully avoiding all reference to the armies in
the East, did tell us of the war as they waged it in France. Also, it
introduced Bairnsfather to us. "The Better 'Ole" became almost an
institution; we could speak with authority on "'oles." And "When the 'ell's
it goin' to be strawberry?" was the unfailing jest at meal-times, as we
scraped the layer of flies from the top of the inevitable Tickler.

No doubt these things will strike you as trivial. Quite so. But when you
remember our complete isolation, that for six months we saw no one but
ourselves, so to speak, you will understand that if one did not laugh at
trivial things one simply did not laugh at all--and in the desert that way
madness lies.

For there were days when one hated the sight of one's best friend, when the
mere sameness of everything drove one almost to distraction, and when the
heat and the little exasperations of our daily work kept the temper
constantly on edge. One had to laugh at something; it was the only way to
keep sane. So, if there should occasionally creep into these pages a
somewhat frivolous