and through by the concussion of a heavy battery firing
over our heads. The room was like a toy-shop with a lot of small
children sounding all the musical toys. The vibrators and the buzzers
were like hoarse toy trumpets.

Our only excitement was the nightly rumour that the General was going to
move nearer the trenches, that one of us would accompany him--I knew
what that meant on greasy misty roads.

After I had left, the Germans by chance or design made better practice.
A shell burst in the garden and shattered all the windows of the room.
The Staff took refuge in dug-outs that had been made in case of need.
Tommy, then attached, took refuge in the cellar. According to his own
account, when he woke up in the morning he was floating. The house had
some corners taken off it and all the glass was shattered, but no one
was hurt.

When I returned to Bailleul, Divisional Headquarters were about to move.

A puncture kept me at Bailleul after the others had gone on to Locre.
Grimers stood by to help. We lunched well, and buying some supplies
started off along the Ypres road. By this time our kit had accumulated.
It is difficult enough to pass lorries on a greasy road at any time.
With an immense weight on the carrier it is almost impossible. So we
determined to go by Dranoutre. An unfortunate bump dispersed my blankets
and my ground-sheet in the mud. Grimers said my language might have
dried them. Finally, that other despatch rider arrived swathed about
with some filthy, grey, forlorn indescribables.

We were quartered in a large schoolroom belonging to the Convent. We had
plenty of space and a table to feed at. Fresh milk and butter we could
buy from the nuns, while a market-gardener just across the road supplied
us with a sack of miscellaneous vegetables--potatoes, carrots, turnips,
onions, leeks--for practically nothing. We lived gloriously. There was
just enough work to make us feel we really were doing something, and not
enough to make us wish we were on the Staff. Bridge we played every hour
of the day, and "Pollers," our sergeant, would occasionally try a
little flutter in Dominoes and Patience.

At Bailleul the Skipper had suggested our learning to manage the
unmechanical horse. The suggestion became an order. We were bumped round
unmercifully at first, until many of us were so sore that the touch of a
motor-cycle saddle on _pave_ was like hot-iron to a tender skin. Then we
were handed over to a friendly sergean