majors and captains who would rather hang on to a job in England than
cross to France and fight. Weston was not of this type. He was a
soldier and a man.

We landed in France on the 15th of September, 1915, and I will never
forget that first march, heavily accoutred, over a big hill to our
first camp. You could easily have picked out our train by reason of
the boots etc., strewn along the line of march, and followed us
without difficulty from the day we left Boulogne till we finally
arrived at a little village in Flanders called ----. Here, within
sound of the guns, we bivouacked for the night, some of the officers
going ahead to look over the trenches we were so soon to occupy. The
next night, under cover of darkness, two platoons from each company
went up to the trenches. I well remember that night, the long march up
the rough shell-torn road, and then along the communication trenches
where we were received by the Imperial troops who, during the next few
days, showed us all around and taught us what to do. Two nights later
the remainder of our own boys came in, and the English soldiers went
south to take part in the battle of Loos. It was about this time that
Major Jones, as fine a soldier as ever went overseas, suffered a
breakdown in his health. The heavy responsibilities thrown upon him
proved too much.

After spending eight days in the trenches we came out for a
well-earned rest. My particular company was stationed at a farmhouse
which was situated quite close to the firing line. The owner was
generally considered to be pro-German, his father, according to rumor,
having previously been shot as a spy. The farmer had a dog which had
been tied up for about nine months, and our sentries had strict orders
that if any of the civilians left the house we were to halt them, and
if they did not halt on the word of command we were to shoot. But I
think at that time it would have been a case of "shoot first," for we
were imagining all sorts of things. As it happened somebody let the
dog loose, and as the sentries felt sure he was going over to the
German lines with despatches, they just shot him dead. Major MacKenzie
had to pay 30 francs for him to satisfy the farmer and to prevent
headquarters hearing of the matter.

At the termination of our six days' rest we went back to the trenches
and relieved the 24th Battalion. "B" Company, to which I belonged,
occupied H 3, J 3, 4, 5 and H 4. Every little while Fritz would