of the other.

During two days Brigade Headquarters and the four batteries had
received piles of belated letters and parcels, and there was joy in the
land. I remember noting the large number of little, local, weekly
papers--always a feature of the men's mail; and it struck me that here
the countryman was vouchsafed a joy unknown to the Londoner. Both could
read of world-doings and national affairs in the big London dailies;
but the man from the shires, from the little country towns, from the
far-off villages of the British Isles, could hug to himself the weekly
that was like another letter from home--with its intimate, sometimes
trivial, details of persons and places so familiar in the happy
uneventful days before the war.

As for the white wine, that did not greatly interest the other members
of Brigade Headquarters mess. But the diary contained the bald entry,
"At 9.30 P.M. the whisky ran out," in the space headed Aug. 28; and
none had come to us since. People at home are inclined to believe that
the whisky scarcity, and the shortage of cakes and biscuits, and
chocolate and tobacco, scarcely affected officers' messes in France.
It is true that recognised brands of whisky appeared on the
Expeditionary Force Canteens' price-list at from 76 to 80 francs a
dozen, but there were days and days when none was to be bought, and no
lime-juice and no bottled lemon-squash either. Many a fight in the
September-October push was waged by non-teetotal officers, who had
nothing with which to disguise the hideous taste of chlorinate of lime
in the drinking water. Ah well!

There was also the serious matter of Major Mallaby-Kelby's pipe. It
became a burning topic on Sept. 4. "I must have dropped it yesterday
when we tumbled into that gas," he told me dolefully. "I mustn't lose
that pipe. It was an original Dunhill, and is worth three or four
pounds.... I'll offer a reward for it.... Will you come with me to look
for it?" And he fixed his monocle and gazed at me compellingly.

"Does the offer of a reward refer to me, sir?" I inquired with all the
brightness at my command. For answer the major commenced putting on his
steel helmet and box-respirator.

It was fitting that I should go. I had accompanied the major on all his
excursions, and my appearance over the horizon had become a sure
warning to the batteries that the major was not far off. "Gunner Major
and Gunner Minor" some one had christened us.

The major conducted the searc