e?

THE F.O.O. There's a Boche working-party in a coppice two hundred
yards west of a point--

THE MOSQUITO (_with renewed vigour_). Ping, ping!

THE F.O.O. (_savagely_). Shut up!

THE JOVIAL VOICE. Working-party? I'll settle them. What's the map
reference?

THE F.O.O. They are in Square number--

THE HARMONIOUS BLACKSMITHS (_suddenly and stunningly_). Whang!

THE F.O.O. Shut up! They are in Square--

FIRST CHATTY SIGNALLER. Hallo, Headquarters! Is the Adjutant there?
Here's the Captain tae speak with him.

AN EAGER VOICE. Is that the Adjutant?

REGIMENTAL HEADQUARTERS. No, sirr. He's away tae his office. Hold the
line while I'll--

THE EAGER VOICE. No you don't! Put me straight through to C
Battery--quick! Then get off the line, and stay there! (_Much
buzzing_.) Is that C Battery?

THE JOVIAL VOICE. Yes, sir.

THE EAGER VOICE. I am O.C. Beer Company. They are shelling my front
parapet, at L8, with pretty heavy stuff. I want retaliation, please.

THE JOVIAL VOICE. Very good, sir. (_The voice dies away_.)

A SOUND OVER OUR HEADS (_thirty seconds later_). Whish! Whish! Whish!

SECOND CHATTY SIGNALLER. Did ye hear that, Jimmy?

FIRST CHATTY SIGNALLER (_with relish_). Mphm! That'll sorrt them!

THE F.O.O. Is that C Battery?

THE JOVIAL VOICE. Yes. What luck, old son?

THE F.O.O. You have obtained two direct hits on the Boche parapet.
Will you have a cocoanut or a ci--

THE JOVIAL VOICE. A little less lip, my lad! Now tell me all about
your industrious friends in the Coppice, and we will see what we can
do for _them!_

* * * * *

And so on. Apropos of Adjutants and Company Commanders, Private
Wamphray, whose acquaintance we made a few pages back, was ultimately
relieved of his position as a Company Signaller, and returned
ignominiously to duty, for tactless if justifiable interposition in
one of these very dialogues.

It was a dark and cheerless night in mid-winter. Ominous noises in
front of the Boche wire had raised apprehensive surmises in the breast
of Brigade Headquarters. A forward sap was suspected in the region
opposite the sector of trenches held by "A" Company. The trenches at
this point were barely forty yards apart, and there was a very real
danger that Brother Boche might creep under his own wire, and possibly
under ours too, and come tumbling over our parapet.

To Bobby Little came instructions to send a specially selected patrol
out to investigat